The Surgeon's Blade (13 page)

Libby smiled at her colleague and friend. “No thanks. I hardly think I’ll have a relapse now. I’m fine, don’t fuss so. You’re worse than Jem and his Simon.” The mention of Simon and his precious ways had them both giggling.

“Don’t.” Lisa laughed. “He cracks me up sometimes. I never know how I keep a straight face when he’s around. Thankfully, he doesn’t work here. He’d never survive.”

“You’re telling me. Anyway, he hates the sight of blood. He faints if he has to have a blood test, so Jem says.”

“Love works in mysterious ways,” Libby said.

“And what about you then? “

“What about me?”

“Jem told me in confidence that you and Nigel St John just might be an item.”

Libby cast a quick look round making sure no one was within earshot. “Hush! We want to keep it secret. Wait until I get hold of that Jem! He knew he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone yet.”

“Well, I’ve heard it now. Jem, bless him, says he was only thinking of you. Since you’re now back at work, he said I should know because we work so closely together. Anyway, Libby, why all the secrecy? Most people newly in love want to shout it from the rooftops, especially with a catch like Nigel St John. He’s got to be the most desirable male we’ve had around here for years. With his sexy good looks, even I might have been tempted with a fling.”

“It’s Nigel’s idea. He doesn’t want his ex-wife to get to hear about it.”

“Why ever not? If she’s his ex, what’s it got to do with her? She works abroad doesn’t she? America, isn’t it?”

Libby shrugged, “Yes. New York and London, I believe, although I hear she’s going to spend a year in Sydney soon.”

“She’s a lucky girl, with all that travel. Are they actually divorced?”

“Yes, of course, Nigel said he received the decree absolute ages ago.”

“That still doesn’t explain why he wants everything between you kept a secret.”

Libby shook her head, caring neither way. She had no parents to tell about her newfound love. If she was honest, she felt a bit depressed about it all. She had always dreamt she would meet someone, fall deliriously in love with them, tell the world about it, and get married. At the moment, nothing seemed settled.

“It’s what he wants.”

Lisa peered at her. “But is it what you want, my dear? Are you happy with him?”

Libby pulled herself together and flashed Lisa a huge smile. “Yes, of course. And I’m fine. Really I am. I’m just a little tired, and Nigel relishes his privacy.  Don’t forget, Nigel has been under a lot of pressure this last year since taking the post on the Trust board.”

“Mmm. He has been ever since that nutter attempted to kill him. Do you remember the man? He tried to bring a case of malpractice against Nigel at his previous hospital, and then he laid in wait for him one night after his appointments were finished. Nothing ever came of it I believe. I wonder what really happened. The press never got hold of the true story. Nigel was lucky there wasn’t a scandal. All too often these days, people point the finger for the most trivial of things, and the awful thing is they often get away with it. There’s many a doctor who’s suffered from someone with either an overactive imagination or simply by telling lies about them.”

“I don’t know. He’s never mentioned any of it to me, and it’s none of my business. Lisa, how do you know all this? You never cease to amaze me with your capacity for gossip! All I know is he’s very hardworking – too hard most of the time – and he’s very caring towards his patients.”

Lisa gave a shrug. “I’m sure he is. Anyway, hospitals always seem to attract the nutcases for some reason. You’ve heard about last night’s horrible scare, haven’t you? There’s been another sighting of that stalker again. I’m glad I don’t work nights.” She gave a shudder.

Libby gave a horrified gasp. “Really? No, I didn’t know that. What happened and where was it?”

“Apparently, last night around two, a midwife had to go to the blood bank and she stopped to have a quick cigarette break outside beforehand. She was approached by some man wearing a dark coat. She had a fright when she thought he was about to expose himself to her but had the foresight to run back to where there was more light. Apparently, he attempted to corner her, but when she kneed him in the crutch, she was able to get away.”

“Did she say what this man looked like?”

“No. It was too dark. All we know so far is she said she thought he was white, quite wiry and slim and possibly wearing some sort of wig, but apart from that nothing else.”

“Scary. Remind me not to volunteer for any nights either.”

“Mmm, it must have been very frightening, especially coming after those two nurses going missing earlier in the year. I was hoping we’d seen the end of that ghastly episode, and St Thomas’s Hospital is having its own problems I see. What is the world coming to? I put it down to far too many graphic films and novels these days.” She gave a huge sigh before continuing. “Anyway back to you and Nigel. Surely you’ll let your friends know you’re seeing each other soon? Think of all the parties you’ll miss out on if Nigel doesn’t want to go?”

Libby nodded. “We’ll get round to it, I’m sure. Maybe we’ll have a party ourselves once I move in with him.”

“That’ll be fun. I’ll look forward to it. Right, it's four o’clock now, time for the drug round. Would you like to do the honours this time?”

Libby nodded her assent and took the drugs cupboard keys from her. She always enjoyed the drug round as it gave her a chance to chat to the patients and ensure they were comfortable. With so much paperwork these days, getting to know the patients was almost a luxury.

Stephanie had been sent up to her ward, and Libby found her easy-going, just like her brother. She knew from her delicate questioning that Stephanie was aware of Libby and Nigel’s argument and Robert’s involvement, but she never directly asked what the row was about. Now Stephanie had been discharged, complete with a carrier bag – or so it seemed – of antibiotics and painkillers, and she made sure Libby had her address and telephone number.

“Don’t forget, I’m inviting you to supper as soon as I’m back on my feet and feeling more like myself,” she said as she left the ward on crutches. “It’ll probably be in a week or so.”

Libby sighed, not wanting to dwell on Stephanie or her brother. The truth was she missed Robert with the laughing hazel eyes. She missed his easy wit and banter and the little smiles he had given her when they had shared dinner together on
Caterina.
Why did life have to be so difficult?

While Libby was pushing the drug trolley round the ward, she noticed Nigel in the office. Lisa was with him, and Libby presumed he was there checking up on his theatre cases. With the hospital full, they had had to take a couple of emergency gynaecological patients. Nigel had already been on the ward twice that day, and Libby couldn’t help admiring him for his care. Not many consultants took as much trouble, she mused.

When they had finished the drug round, Libby returned the trolley to the office and locked it. She discovered Nigel had left the ward and thought it a bit odd that he hadn’t made any attempt to speak to her. Sometimes she thought he carried all the secrecy about their relationship a little bit too far. Shrugging to herself, she decided to go and tidy the linen cupboard. They were waiting for a delivery of clean linen from the laundry, and now was a good time to sort the shelves out before the new bundles arrived. It was an easy task and undemanding. Just as she finished, she heard a movement behind her and found the doorway blocked by one of the porters. She knew the porter, as he was a regular visitor to their ward, and Libby recalled his name was Peter. Peter was in his late thirties. He was pale and thin, with a mass of untidy dark hair. Libby also recalled that he was incredibly shy, especially with women.

“Peter, you gave me a start. I didn’t hear you come in. Have you brought our new linen up?”

Peter stared intently at Libby without saying a word. Instead, he directed his gaze to the scar on her forehead, which she had attempted to cover with her fringe. Without a word, he grimaced and pointed to her head and then to his own.

Libby wondered what he meant and frowned. “What?”

“I have one too,” he muttered. He brushed his thick hair to one side, and Libby saw a deep puckered scar along his hairline. However it had happened, Libby saw it must have been a severe injury.

Libby nodded. “Yes, you have.”

“Did your mother do that to you too?”

Libby almost gasped at his statement. “What? No, of course not. I had an accident. Don’t you remember, Peter? I was hurt on a boat, and I’ve been off work while it healed.”

Peter remained where he was with a puzzled look upon his face, as if he was slowly turning her words over in his mind.

“Peter, I need to get out of here now. Can you please let me pass?”

He remained where he was. His mouth trembled, as if he was working out what to say to her. Libby suddenly felt vulnerable as he took a step nearer to her, his hands stretching out towards her. For some strange reason, she felt the urge to scream and backed away until she was pressing up hard against the shelves behind her.

“You need to take more care when you—” he began.

“Peter, what are you doing?” Lisa’s voice came from behind. “You know you’re not supposed to be in there.”

He gave Libby another look and then turned round in the doorway giving Lisa her first view of her.

Lisa frowned and took his arm. “Peter you need to unload your linen trolley. Come on, let’s get it cleared. We need it.”

As he followed Lisa back out onto the ward, Libby found she was shivering, and she hurried past them into the sister’s office and sat down.

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Lisa said once she had rejoined her.

Libby lifted her pale face and nodded.

“What did he say? He didn’t…he didn’t do anything, did he?” Lisa frowned. “He’s never been any trouble despite his wild looks. Peter’s always been a gentle sort of fellow; very shy and introverted though. He has Asperger’s Syndrome and finds it really hard to fit in socially. He has the classic triad: lacking social communication, interaction and imagination.”

“No, he didn’t do anything. I think he just surprised me, and I got a bit spooked. He started saying something else, but I didn’t quite catch what he said.”

Lisa breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I’d hate to have to report him for something. It must be hard to get a decent job when you’re as inhibited as he is. Are you sure you’re okay now?” She peered at Lisa. “What about a nice cup of tea? I’ll make it.”

“Yes. No, I’ll make it. I need to do something. I’m just being pathetic. I think it was because we were talking about that stalker earlier. Not that I suspect him or anything, it was just me being silly.”

“Well, if you’re sure then. Peter really is harmless. He spends a lot of his time here in the hospital. I’m told he has a sort of social life. He belongs to a local drama group. He doesn’t act of course, he’s too unsure of himself, but he helps with scenery and then there are his trips up to London. Apparently, he loves hanging around Waterloo Station watching the trains come and go. A few of the other porters reckon he’s looking for someone. It’s most probably his mother, who was a manic depressive and hanged herself. Peter was found sitting next to her swinging body four days after she took her own life. Poor little kid – he was only about seven at the time.”