Ear? Mould?
Everything suddenly fell into place.
Ruby’s audiology test must have shown that she had hearing loss—if a further test in six weeks didn’t show a marked improvement it was very likely that she would need a hearing aid. But the way Katrina was talking felt personal—as if she knew exactly what it felt like, rather than what the audiology team had told her.
‘And you know that test you did, where you had to listen for the beeps? That showed the audiologist what you could hear. So then they can programme the hearing aid to help you hear the bits you can’t hear right now, but they don’t make the bits that you can hear any louder.’
‘And it doesn’t hurt?’ Ruby asked.
‘Nope. Once it’s in, I forget it’s even there—like I said, it’s made to fit you perfectly, and only you. Feel. It’s not heavy, is it?’
Rhys realised then that Katrina was definitely talking personally.
She wore a hearing aid.
‘And watch this.’ Katrina lifted her hair again, took the aid from the little girl’s hand and slipped it back into her ear. ‘Push this switch to turn it on—and, hey, presto, I’ve got a bionic ear. I can hear the same as your mum and dad now—well, almost.’
‘So you can’t hear, like me?’ Ruby asked, looking surprised.
‘Nope. And it hasn’t stopped me doing anything I want to do.’ She laughed. ‘Well, obviously I don’t wear it if I go swimming. It’d be like putting your handheld game console in the bath.’
Ruby giggled. ‘That’d be silly. It doesn’t work if it gets wet.’
‘Exactly.’ Katrina smiled at her. ‘So if your next test shows that you do need a hearing aid, you’ll know not to worry because you’ll be fine. And you can get special help at school if you need it.’ She looked at Ruby’s parents. ‘There are support groups, and the audiology team can work with Ruby’s school. And, believe me, a hearing aid takes a lot of the struggle out of lessons. There won’t be any difference between Ruby and everyone else in her class.’ She smiled at Ruby. ‘Except you can show people exactly what the inside of your ear looks like and really gross them out. Oh, and you can choose your colour. I had to have a clear mould because I’m a grown-up, but you can have a pink sparkly one if you want.’
‘Really?’ Ruby’s face brightened.
‘Really. Or a purple one. I really wanted a bright blue one to match my eyes, but grown-ups don’t get to have the fun ones.’
Rhys withdrew, feeling a complete and utter heel. Now he understood why Katrina had ignored him: she hadn’t heard him. And because he’d called out from behind her she hadn’t seen him either, so she’d had no idea he’d even spoken. Considering he’d been about to accuse her of deliberately ignoring him and being petty… Guilt flooded through him. Admittedly, he hadn’t known Katrina Gregory for very long, but in that day and a half he’d really been aware of how warm and sweet she was. She wasn’t the type to be petty or to bear grudges and give someone the silent treatment.
He really should stop judging people by his own family’s behaviour.
And he most definitely owed Katrina an apology.
Katrina dropped by his office later that afternoon. ‘I’ve got Petros Smith’s blood results back. You’re right—it’s G6PD. Thanks for picking that up. There was something nagging in the back of my mind but I couldn’t quite place it.’
‘That’s what colleagues are for,’ he said lightly. ‘Do you want me to come and talk to them with you?’
‘No, that’s fine. I can see you’re busy.’
‘If you’re sure. The offer’s there.’ He paused. ‘Actually, before you go, can you close the door a second?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
‘I’d like a quick word with you.’
She looked wary, but did as he asked. ‘What is it?’
‘Sit down. I’m not going to bite your head off. It’s just…’ He sighed. ‘I owe you an apology.’
She blinked, but sat down. ‘An apology? Why?’
‘I called you earlier. On two separate occasions. You ignored me.’
She flushed. ‘Sorry, I—’
‘Let me finish,’ he cut in. ‘I thought it was deliberate, so I was going to ask you into my office for a quiet chat and sort out whatever the problem was. Then I overheard you talking to Ruby Jeffers and her parents—and I realise now you didn’t hear me.’
She winced. ‘Sorry. Sometimes it’s difficult at work, especially in an open area—it gets a bit noisy and I have to rely on lip-reading a lot more than I do at home.’
‘Don’t apologise. You’ve done nothing wrong—but now I know about it, I’ll make sure you’re facing me and that I’ve got your attention before I talk if it’s noisy.’
‘Thank you.’ She stood up. ‘I’d better go and see the Smiths.’
He knew he should leave it there. They had a truce. But something seemed to take over his mouth, and he found himself saying, ‘Before you do—would you have dinner with me this evening?’
She looked surprised. ‘But you don’t…’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Don’t do team nights out.’
‘I’m not very good with crowds.’ He rubbed a hand across his face. ‘I’m not much of a drinker, I loathe karaoke and that sort of thing, and I’d rather go out for a good meal and a decent conversation than sit at the end of a huge table, not really knowing anyone and being only too aware that I was only invited because everyone’s being polite and it’s cramping their style having the consultant around.’
‘I see.’
Her expression intrigued him. ‘Why did you think I said no to team nights out?’
‘You mean, when most new consultants would go on absolutely everything to try and bond with the team?’ She spread her hands. ‘No idea. Maybe you have a complicated home life.’
‘There’s just me,’ he said softly. ‘No ties of any sort. So it’s pretty simple.’
‘Well, thank you for asking me,’ she said politely, ‘but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I don’t believe in dating colleagues. If it doesn’t work out, it makes life very awkward for everyone else on the ward.’
His brain registered her refusal—but her reason told him something else. She hadn’t refused because she was already involved with someone else or because she wasn’t interested in him: she’d refused because he was her colleague.
‘You’re right, it can make things difficult,’ he agreed. He’d seen it happen with other people rather than experienced it himself; in the past, he’d dated people who worked in the same hospital, but never colleagues from his own ward. ‘I’m asking you out to dinner because we’ve got off on the wrong foot and I’d like us to start again as colleagues—and it’s a more civilised way of starting a good working relationship.’
‘The wrong foot.’ She pursed her mouth. ‘You were telling me how to do my job yesterday.’
He’d wondered if she’d bring that up. ‘I was concerned that you’re getting too emotionally involved with your patients. That’s not healthy for