There were sensible, flat shoes on the other end of her body and, in between, he could see a small amount of a plain, straight skirt. She wore a white coat, for heaven’s sake. Who did that these days? And even the people who felt the need to advertise some kind of clinical status would never, ever be uncool enough to button it up like that.
When he lifted his gaze to her face again, he found Kate staring back at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. He suppressed a sigh.
‘No, I don’t suppose you would ever feel like doing that, would you?’
‘If you mean I wouldn’t feel like bringing a motorbike indoors and puffing poisonous exhaust fumes around a whole lot of sick children, you’d be right. I can’t believe that you thought it was?—’
Her outraged admonition was interrupted by someone hurrying towards them.
It was the mother of the little boy from the back of the bike. She’d courageously managed to hold back her tears earlier, but they were flowing freely now.
‘Thank you,’ she said, her words choked.
‘Hey…’ Connor held the weight of the bike with one hand, using his other arm to draw the woman close as she wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘It was nothing, Jeannie.’
Jeannie gave an enormous sniff. ‘I have to get back. It… it won’t be long now.’
‘I know.’ The lump was back in Connor’s throat. He needed to find a space by himself for a few minutes. Preferably with a bit of speed involved. Maybe he’d take the bike for a quick spin on the motorway.
Jeannie stood still for a moment, taking a huge gulp of air to steady herself. ‘I just had to say thank you,’ she whispered. ‘Liam… went to sleep with the biggest smile on his face.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘I don’t think he was even aware of any pain when he was sitting on your bike. The photos are… are…’
‘Something you’ll treasure.’ Connor had to swallow hard. ‘Go and be with Liam, Jeannie. He needs his mum.’
Her face crumpled again as she turned away. Connor had to take a very deep, slow breath because he was suddenly aware that Kate was still there and that she’d heard every word of that emotional exchange. Surely she couldn’t have missed the undercurrent? The reason why Connor had been prepared to break so many rules here?
She hadn’t. He could see it in her face, which had gone a shade paler. And in the way her eyes seemed to have grown a lot bigger. He hadn’t noticed how blue they were before.
‘I… I don’t know what to say,’ she stammered awkwardly.
‘Don’t say anything, then,’ Connor advised wearily. He had to get away. If he was going to cry, it had to be out on the motorway where the moisture could be attributed to the wind getting in his eyes.
He got the motorbike moving again with a jerk. Kate was still standing there, opening and closing her mouth as though she really wanted to say something but couldn’t think what. She looked like a stranded fish.
And she was still giving off a disapproving vibe. Maybe she still intended to do something about his misdemeanour. Connor felt sandwiched between the constraints of the establishment she represented, with its inability to do enough for someone like Liam, and the weight of grief he could feel emanating from that private room down the end of the ward where a mother would be cradling her dying child.
He had to push back against one of those barriers or he wouldn’t be able to breathe.
‘You know what?’ Connor shook his head. ‘You need to get a life. You’re about as buttoned up as that ridiculous coat you’re wearing.’
* * *
Her coat?
What was wrong with her coat?
Kate collected the samples that needed urgent testing to see whether a two-year-old girl had meningitis. The nurse who handed them over had clearly been crying very recently. Other staff members were huddled at the central station, clutching handfuls of tissues. One took a sheet of paper emerging from the printer in the corner and held it up.
Someone else stifled a sob.
Kate craned her neck a little to see what they were looking at. It was a large copy of a photograph. A small boy, his head almost obscured by the oversized helmet he was wearing so that what jumped out at the viewer was his grin. And what a grin. Bright enough to make anything else in the image irrelevant, even the tangle of IV lines that were coming from the central line just under his collar bone.
She turned and walked away with something close to panic nipping at her heels. The emotions were so raw here, but what was she hurrying towards? Something even worse?
Arriving at the pathology department, Kate delivered the samples. ‘Do them immediately,’ she instructed. ‘Phone through the results but make sure a hard copy goes straight to the ward.’
