I started to get up, but was pushed down by a strong warm hand at my shoulder. A cup of steaming tea was shoved into my hand, and I saw he had moved to crouch in front of me. I looked at him, my brows drawn together in confusion.
‘Drink it,’ he ordered. ‘Its Earl Grey, one sugar.’ How did he know how I liked my tea? ‘You did set your alarm. I turned it off.’
‘You turned it off?’ I repeated, becoming even more confused.
‘Yeah.’
‘Why?’
He looked away a moment then back at me. ‘You shocked the shit out of me when I got here at six thirty,’ he told me. ‘I may have even let out aslightlygirlie scream.’
‘Okay,’ I said slowly, unable to imagine Tom screaming.
‘You didn’t even blink an eye. They heard me in the anaesthetic office down the hall and you didn’t even flinch. You just stayed curled up in a tight little ball and slept like the dead. I took your bleep and phone out of your pocket and you still didn’t wake up. So I turned off your alarm.’
‘What about handover? What about the wards? They must have bleeped me again before my shift was over.’
Tom stood from his crouch, sat back in his big swivel chair and started fidgeting with his shirtsleeve, which I noticed was slightly frayed. Seriously, he was the scruffiest consultant I had ever seen.
‘I … um, answered your bleep for you, and I phoned the handover and told them you were busy with one of my patients.’
‘You what?’ I squeaked, spilling some tea on aLancet. ‘How did you put the ward nurses off?’
‘Put them off?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, so they would delay the jobs that needed to be done.’
‘I didn’t put them off. I did the jobs,’ he said, still fidgeting with his sleeve.
‘What?’ I squeaked again, nearly going ultrasonic.
‘It was just a few difficult cannulas, couple of sick patients, some drug charts. No big deal.’ He shrugged. My eyes were huge and horrified as I looked at him. Consultants did not do ward work.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘You were tired,’ he replied, as if that explained everything.
‘Of course I was tired; I was on a night shift. That doesn’t answer my question.’
‘You weren’t just night-shift-tired Frankie,’ he said, sounding impatient. ‘You’ve looked exhausted for days, ever since you got that weird call from A&E, and you needed sleep.’
‘I –’
‘Now you need to drink tea,’ he said firmly.
‘Oh no!’ I cried. ‘What must they have thought at handover?’
‘They probably thought I’m a selfish prick who steals the ward doctor to do his bidding after a long shift. In fact, I know that’s what they think because your friend Lou used those exact words.’
Yup, that sounded like Lou.
This just got worse and worse.
‘Oh dear,’ I muttered. ‘Sorry about that, she can be a bit forthright.’
He smiled again, ‘That’s one way of putting it.’
‘Well … um, thanks, I guess,’ I said quietly whilst I put my tea on the desk and attempted to extricate myself from the journals. He stood and extended a hand, which I studiously ignored.
