Children's Doctor, Society Bride. Joanna Neil

with what was on her mind rather than fudge the issue.

      ‘That’s a rather harsh way of putting it, don’t you think?’ His mouth flattened.

      Louise gave a faint shrug. ‘I don’t see any reason not to be blunt,’ she murmured. ‘That way we both know where we’re coming from.’

      He acknowledged that with a faint twist to his mouth. ‘Let’s say that I prefer to see things firsthand. I really need to know what I’m talking about if I’m asked to give an opinion on the various proposals. It’s one thing to look at facts and figures that are laid down in reports, and quite another to get a feel for the place and see the way it actually runs.’

      ‘If I were to take that the way it sounds, I might be encouraged to believe there was some hope that you might change your mind about the move to the Royal Forest Hospital.’ She made a face. ‘On the other hand, I’ve seen the way these things work at other hospitals, and I suspect that in reality you could be looking into ways you might reorganise the facilities when we’re no longer around.’

      He laughed. ‘You’re a cynic through and through, aren’t you, Louise?’

      Her green eyes flashed. ‘Tell me I don’t need to be.’ It was a definite challenge but, as she expected, he wasn’t about to take it up. Perhaps her vehemence startled him, but this department meant everything to her. It was more than a place of work, and she felt an urgent need to defend it and the patients it served. In a way, they were like the family she never had, and she would protect them in any way she could.

      She turned away from him as an ambulance siren sounded close by. ‘I have to concentrate on the job in hand,’ she said. ‘If you’re going to observe, I hope you’ll keep out of the way and let us get on with our work.’ It occurred to her that she was perhaps being too dismissive of him, but her priority was with her patients and if he didn’t like it that was too bad.

      She hurried out to the ambulance bay and observed the small child who was being wheeled in through the main doors of the hospital.

      He was in a bad way. He was still having seizures despite the attentions of the paramedics, and his skin was hot and dry. She listened to what the paramedic had to say, and then glanced at the chart he handed her.

      ‘Okay, take him into Resus Two, Andy,’ she told him. The young man nodded and did as she suggested. Then he stood back, out of the way, clearly unwilling to leave just then.

      Once the child was safely in the room, Louise quickly obtained intravenous access and then administered the drugs that would help stop the seizures.

      ‘Is he going to be all right?’ the toddler’s mother asked in a shaky voice.

      ‘We’re doing everything we can for him,’ Louise told her. ‘If you’d like to stay by his side and hold his hand and let him know that you’re here, I’m sure that will help.’

      ‘Let’s get him on oxygen,’ she said, glancing at Jenny, ‘and we’ll do a blood glucose test.’

      She worked with the child for several minutes, anxiously watching the monitors and infusing him with various medications as she tried to stabilize his condition.

      The Specialist Registrar came to assist. ‘The ECG reading is showing a widening QRS complex,’ he told her.

      She acknowledged him, saying, ‘Okay, Tim, we’ll start bicarbonate therapy and see if that will settle things down.’ Louise glanced anxiously at the monitors once more. ‘You had better notify the intensive care unit,’ she told Jenny. ‘He’ll need to be admitted. In the meantime, I’ll put in a nasogastric tube so that we can give him activated charcoal and then, as soon as we’re able, we’ll do a gastric lavage.’

      Louise stayed with the child until she had done everything that was possible for him.

      ‘What’s going to happen to him?’ the boy’s mother asked. ‘Matthew’s so little and he looks dreadfully ill. I just never realised it could get this bad.’

      She was naturally distressed, and Louise wished that she could reassure her in some way. ‘We’ll keep him in our observation bay until ICU can find a bed for him,’ Louise told her. ‘We’ve washed out his stomach in case there was any antihistamine still in there, and we’re doing what we can to minimise the effects of any of the drug that’s in his system. Other than that, it’s too soon to tell how things will turn out. We’ll know better in a few hours if we’ve managed to counteract the worst consequences.’

      The paramedic was still waiting to see if there were any results. He was a fair-haired young man in his thirties, and Louise knew that he was dedicated to his job.

      He was frowning, and Louise went over and spoke to him as she left the child in Jenny’s care. She didn’t want to leave him at all, but there were other patients who needed her, and all she could do for him now was to wait. ‘I’m sorry there isn’t any better news for you, Andy,’ she told him. ‘I suppose you have to get back to work now, don’t you?’