‘It’s always been a pleasure to work with you, Hannah. A pleasure that I hope will continue for a long time.’
‘So do I.’ Hannah toyed with her almost empty cup of coffee. ‘I’m going to be biting my nails waiting for this consultancy to be decided.’
‘You really want this job, don’t you?’
‘It’s exactly what I want, Pete.’
‘But it’s only a seven-tenths position and you don’t want to do any private practice, do you?’
‘Will that make a difference?’ Hannah asked anxiously. ‘Do you really need someone else in your practice?’
‘I will eventually. I’m not getting any younger, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
Peter was nearly sixty years old but Hannah grinned. ‘I hadn’t. You’ll need to develop some more crinkles, as Livvy calls them.’
‘I’ve got plenty of ‘‘crinkles’’.’ Peter’s face brightened. ‘How is Livvy?’
‘She’s great. She can write her own name now. She drew the most amazing picture yesterday and signed it for me. I think I’ll get it framed.’
‘What’s it a picture of?’
‘Joseph.’
‘That’s your…donkey, yes?’’
Hannah laughed. ‘That’s the one.’
‘It’s a bit difficult remembering all the names of your pets. Every one of those hens has a name, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes. And the goat and cats. We’d love to get a puppy some time as well.’
‘How on earth do you look after them all?’
‘It’s not difficult. And if I get this consultancy I’ll have a bit more time at home so maybe we could think about getting a dog.’
‘Is that why you’re so keen?’
‘Of course not. Having more time with Livvy is the main appeal. On a consultant’s salary I would be paid as much for seven-tenths as I am for this registrar position, which feels like twelve-tenths a lot of the time. Plus I’d be able to stay in Christchurch on a permanent basis. Neither Livvy nor I want to leave our property. I’ve spent years turning that old house into something worth living in and I’d hate to move. We’d never find land so close to town that we could afford now either. The prices for lifestyle blocks have gone through the roof in the last few years.’
‘So the department doesn’t really rate, then?’
‘Come off it, Pete.’ Hannah’s admonishing tone was negated by the smile she bestowed on her boss. ‘You’ve been far more than a boss, or even a colleague, to me and you know it. I might never have come back after having Livvy if it hadn’t been for your encouragement, and thanks to you, the paediatric department of Christchurch Central is probably more sought after as a place to work in than anywhere else in this country.’ She sighed. ‘That’s the problem. I’m going to be up against some pretty stiff competition for this position, aren’t I?’
‘I wouldn’t worry too much about that. I was just discussing you with Tom Berry, in fact.’
‘Oh?’ Tom Berry was one of the paediatric surgeons at Central. He would also be on the committee that would decide the position. Hannah widened her eyes anxiously but Peter simply grinned.
‘He had very nice things to say about you.’ Peter glanced at his watch. ‘And that reminds me. I was supposed to be in Tom’s office ten minutes ago for an afternoon tea to welcome their new appointee.’ He stood up hurriedly. ‘I’ll have to disappear. Sorry, Hannah.’
‘That’s OK.’ Hannah followed his example and rose, collecting her empty plate and cup. ‘I’m due back in the ward for an admission anyway.’
Her resigned expression made Peter smile. ‘Anyone I know?’
‘Jadine Milton,’ Hannah replied. ‘She looks set to become our latest frequent flyer.’
‘Abdominal pain again?’
‘Yep. And I’ve ruled out every obscure medical cause I can think of over the last three admissions.’
‘Crohn’s disease? Constipation? Lead poisoning?’ Peter was walking with Hannah as she left the cafeteria.
‘And intussusception, intestinal obstruction, appendicitis, pyelonephritis and pancreatitis.’
‘Diabetes?’
‘Blood sugars are normal. I’m sure there’s no organic cause. We even did an endoscopy last time to rule out peptic ulcers.’
‘Munchausen’s?’
‘It’s starting to look like that. Or Munchausen’s by proxy. The mother’s got a few problems.’
‘Who initiated today’s admission?’
‘The GP. I suspect she’s fed up.’
Peter turned off as they reached the lifts near the gift shop in the main foyer. ‘Get some input from Psych this time. And maybe Social Services.’
Hannah nodded wearily. ‘I’ll see if I can have a good talk to the mother myself as well.’ She headed for the stairs unsurprised that that vague feeling of premonition had returned. This was another challenging case but behavioural and social problems were veering away from any field of expertise Hannah had and it was hard to stay uninvolved when she liked her patient. Six-year-old Jadine was not unlike her own daughter to look at, with her blond curls and big, brown eyes. Her single mother was also struggling with the kinds of issues Hannah had dealt with herself. The case would be time-consuming, however, and there were a lot of loose ends on the ward that Hannah would need to deal with before she could leave for the day. She almost welcomed that familiar tension that came with the conflict between wanting to get home to Livvy and needing to do her job as best she could. She was used to coping with this and it was preferable to that formless fear still clouding her day.
* * *
Jadine Milton lay on a bed in Room 4, next door to where young Jamie was receiving IV fluids to correct his dehydration. The small girl’s face was pale but Hannah suspected this was quite a normal colour for her. Clutching a Barbie doll, Jadine was shaking her head vigorously as Hannah entered the room.
‘I don’t want a drink, Mummy. I hate water!’
‘Water’s good for you. You drink far too much cola. It’s probably got something to do with all these tummyaches you’re getting.’
‘Hi, there, pumpkin.’ Hannah smiled at her patient. ‘Fancy seeing you in here again.’
‘I’m so sorry about this.’ Jadine’s mother, Caroline Briggs, sighed theatrically. ‘I felt embarrassed enough turning up at the medical centre yet again. It’s even worse to have to come back into hospital. I know how busy you are and—’
‘It’s not a problem,’ Hannah interrupted. ‘What’s important is making sure that Jadine is fine.’
‘You haven’t found anything wrong with her the last three times she’s been in. You must be starting to think we just make a fuss about nothing.’
Hannah hoped her smile was reassuring. She could see the anxiety in Jadine’s face. No matter what the cause of the recurrent abdominal pain, a six-year-old child couldn’t be held responsible for any wastage of time and resources.
‘So your tummy’s sore again, Jadine?’
The little girl nodded.
‘Does it feel just the same as last time?’
She nodded again.
‘When