The Greek Doctor's New-Year Baby

CHAPTER TWO

ON MONDAY morning—the day before he was supposed to start—Theo Petrakis walked on to the maternity unit.

He liked what he saw. Everything was organised—well, as organised as you could get in a ward where babies decided to arrive earlier than expected, or made their parents wait around and worry before they finally made their appearance—and there were plenty of hand sanitation gel dispensers around, so clearly they were hot on hygiene here. And the warm, relaxed atmosphere he’d noticed at his interview was still present, to his relief. Before now he’d worked in a unit where the midwives and doctors had been practically ranged against each other instead of recognising that they were a team.

‘Can I help you?’ the midwife sitting at the reception desk asked.

He smiled at her and held out his hand. ‘I’m Theo Petrakis. Strictly speaking, I’m not supposed to be here until tomorrow, but I thought I’d drop in and say hello.’

‘Theo Petrakis—our new consultant, yes?’ She returned the smile. ‘I’m Iris Rutherford.’ The senior midwife, according to her name badge. She took his hand and shook it warmly. ‘Pleased to meet you. Especially as you’ve picked a nice quiet moment.’

‘As opposed to three in the morning, when all the babies decide it’s the perfect time to make their arrival?’ he asked wryly.

She laughed. ‘Too right! If you’ve got a few minutes spare, I can show you around and introduce you to everyone.’

‘Thanks. I’d like that.’

And by everyone, Theo discovered, she meant everyone, including the health-care assistants.

It had definitely been a good decision to take this temporary post, he thought. A six-month stint as a locum for the senior consultant, who was off on long-term sick leave. It would broaden his experience so he was ready to make the step up to a senior consultancy role. As it looked as if he’d be part of a team here that believed in working together, this job was going to be a real pleasure.

Then he noticed the slight frown on Iris’s face as they got back to her desk. ‘What’s up?’

‘I was hoping you’d get to meet our registrar, but she’s in one of the delivery rooms right now. She’s brilliant at her job, good with the mums and the babies. She’s going to make an excellent consultant in a couple of years.’

‘Ambitious?’ Theo asked, trying to read between the lines.

Iris smiled. ‘She certainly hasn’t met the man who’ll come between her and her career. But she won’t give you a hard time for taking over from Doug, if that’s what you’re asking.’

By the time Theo left the ward, the registrar still hadn’t emerged from the delivery room—and no way would he interrupt what was clearly already a difficult situation for a woman in labour—but he wasn’t particularly worried about not meeting her before he started. If she was anything like her colleagues, they’d get along just fine.

The following morning, again the registrar wasn’t there when he arrived because she was helping out with a difficult birth. But he was just making himself a mug of coffee when she walked into the ward’s kitchen.

‘Hello. You must be the new…’ She stopped dead, clearly recognising him.

Just as he recognised her.

Even without the mask, he knew her instantly. Those beautiful eyes. That mouth. The prickle of awareness that ran all the way down his spine.

Which was crazy.

Apart from the fact he never mixed work and relationships, it would be impossible here anyway. He was only here for six months, and she was involved. The best he could hope for was a good working relationship. Which meant defusing any embarrassment right from the start.

‘Doctor,’ he finished lightly. ‘Yes. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself to you at the ball on Saturday. Theo Petrakis.’ He held out his hand.

‘Madison Gregory. Everyone calls me Maddie. Welcome to the ward.’ She took his hand.

Using her right hand. And he’d kissed her right wrist on Saturday night, touched his lips to the pulse point.

The impulse to do it again shocked him, it was so strong. He just about managed to shake her hand and then drop it again. ‘I was making coffee. The kettle’s hot. What can I get you?’

‘I’m impressed. You’re well trained,’ she teased.

He shrugged. ‘I don’t mind taking my turn to make coffee. I certainly don’t intend to pull rank and expect my team to run around after me.’

‘Doug’ll be pleased to know his department’s in safe hands—and that you share his attitude towards the team,’ she said. ‘Thanks. That’ll be a lot of milk and no sugar for me, please. And a little bit of cold water, too, so it’s cool enough to drink.’

A trick most doctors learned very early on, Theo knew. If you waited for your drink to cool, the chances were you wouldn’t even get a first sip before you were called to a patient. ‘Busy morning, hmm?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘But I love mornings like this. When things look as if they’re going to go pear-shaped, and all the worst-case scenarios are running through your head while you’re maintaining absolute calm to stop the mum and her partner worrying—and then suddenly it all works and you end up with a new mum and dad, all misty-eyed and cuddling their little miracle. That first moment when the whole world seems brand new.’

Clearly she loved her job. And he knew what she meant: those first moments with a newborn baby always took his breath away, too.

He made the coffee the way she’d specified and handed the mug to her.

‘Thanks.’ She took a sip. ‘Oh-h-h. This is perfect. Just what I needed.’

She seemed to be about to say something else, but then her pager bleeped. She glanced at the readout, then sighed and put the mug on the draining board. ‘Sorry. I’ll finish it later. I have to go. The emergency department needs a second opinion on a pregnant patient with back pain.’

‘Can I come and observe?’ he asked.

She blinked, looking faintly surprised. ‘Well, if you really want to, sure. I’m not worried about someone senior observing me,’ she added, ‘but four would definitely be a crowd and I had intended to take my fourth-year students down with me.’

‘Your students?’

His surprise must have sounded in his voice because she admitted, ‘Strictly speaking, I suppose they’re your students, but before Doug went on sick leave he agreed I could take over the mentoring side of things. And Sanjay and Nita are doing really well—especially Sanjay, who’s blossomed since he’s been with us. I want to keep his confidence up.’

Theo raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought only consultants were mentors.’ And she was a registrar, wasn’t she?

‘Look, I’ll explain on the way down to ED. If you want to observe, we’d better not take the students with us this time—it’s not fair to our mum to have too many people in a cubicle with her, especially as she’s in the emergency department and probably panicking like anything right now. Plus Sanjay and Nita really need to meet you properly before you observe them.’

Theo had to suppress a smile at the way Madison was taking control when officially she was his junior, but he liked her confidence and the way her first thoughts were for other people’s well-being. ‘Sure.’

She stopped off at the reception desk and rang down to the emergency department to reassure them that she was on her way, then ushered him out of the department.

‘So talk me through the mentoring stuff,’ he said.

‘You know as well as I do, we have a recruitment crisis in our specialty,’ she said. ‘All the surveys say that students don’t want to work in obs and gynae because they have such a bad time on rotation—either they’re made to feel they get under the feet of the midwives, or they’re stuck in the furthest corner of an operating theatre watching a Caesarean.’

‘So they never really get to do any of the work and they don’t feel part of the team.’

‘Exactly,’ Madison said. ‘We’re organised nowadays so the team means a whole department, rather than the old way of having a “firm” of a consultant, registrar and house officers who always work together, and in a way that’s a shame because it makes it harder for junior doctors to settle into the team. I really think students need a single point of contact in a department to help them feel they’re really part of what’s going on. Yes, they have to sort out their logbooks and what have you, but they also need proper contact with patients and they need real jobs to do if they’re to get the best out of their attachment.’

‘Responsibilities for something practical, such as a departmental audit,’ Theo suggested.

That earned him another of the gorgeous smiles. ‘Absolutely. On our ward, we have two students at a time on attachment. I’m responsible for bedside teaching, and they attend my clinic and theatre sessions.’

‘Are you pure obstetrics?’ Theo asked.

She nodded. ‘Though I’m interested in foetal medicine as well.’

‘So what about the gynae work?’

‘I liaise with the consultants and the other registrars so the students get sessions with them, too—but I’m still their point of contact if they’re worried about anything, or if they want to see more of a particular subspecialty outside pure obstetrics. I also get them to spend time with the midwives, so they develop a rapport and a bit of respect for our colleagues, as well as a chance to see some low-risk births.’

‘Instead of thinking that life in our ward is all epidurals and emergency sections,’ Theo agreed. ‘That sounds good. I notice you have a sensory room here.’

‘And a water-birth suite. We want our mums to have the best, most natural and relaxing experience possible. Our midwives are fantastic, and we only intervene when we’re asked for help.’

‘Amen to that,’ he said feelingly.

The emergency registrar met them practically at the door and gave them a swift handover. Theo recognised the man’s voice—he was the one who’d swept Madison off her feet at the ball. Yet Madison didn’t greet him as if there was anything more than a professional relationship between them. And Iris had said that Madison hadn’t met the man to come between her and her career. So did that mean she was single after all?

Crazy. He shouldn’t even be thinking about her like that.

And yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her. There was something about her. Something that made him want to break all his personal rules.

Which was even crazier.

The registrar introduced them both to the patient, then left to see the next on his list.

‘Mrs Ellis, I’m Madison Gregory and this is Theo Petrakis,’ Madison said. ‘Ed called us from the maternity department. I understand you’ve been having back pain.’

Mrs Ellis nodded. ‘And it hurts here.’ She pointed to her groin, and clearly the movement hurt her because she grimaced.

‘Has it been going on for long?’ Madison asked.

‘I’ve had twinges for the last week, but today it’s absolute agony.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘Please—I’m not going to lose the baby, am I?’

‘Aches and pains are pretty common in pregnancy and they don’t necessarily mean that you’re miscarrying or there’s a problem with the baby,’ Madison reassured her, ‘but you’ve done exactly the right thing coming to see us. Do you mind if I examine you?’

With the patient’s permission, she examined Mrs Ellis gently but effectively, then listened to the baby’s heartbeat. ‘That’s nice and strong, so try not to worry too much. The baby’s doing just fine. But what we need to do is stop this pain. Do you get the pain all the time, and does anything make it feel worse or better?’

‘It’s only there some of the time. It’s worse when I’m going upstairs or getting dressed or turning over in bed,’ Mrs Ellis explained.

Given where the pain was and the description, Theo knew exactly what the problem was. But rather than muscling in, he waited for Madison, who smiled at Mrs Ellis and squeezed her hand. ‘The baby’s in absolutely no danger. What you’ve got is something called symphysis pubis dysfunction—SPD for short. It sounds a lot scarier than it is, and an awful lot of women get it. At eighteen weeks, you’re practically halfway through pregnancy, and that’s the most common time to start noticing the pain.’

She sat down next to the bed, drew a notebook and pen from her pocket, and sketched a swift diagram to show their patient. Theo liked the way she was managing this: focusing on the patient’s worries, making it easy for her to understand. That kind of empathy would make her a brilliant consultant, as Iris had said. And on a personal level…

No. No involvements. He’d made his decision years ago: he wasn’t going to settle down, get married and have children. Sure, he dated—he was only human—but he always made sure his dates knew he wasn’t able to offer anything long term. If that meant people thought he was a shallow playboy, then fine—he could live with that. As far as he was concerned, other people didn’t have to know the real reason behind his decision. He wasn’t prepared to put the woman he loved through childbirth, knowing first-hand what could happen when everything went wrong. And no way was he going to go through what his father had gone through.

He forced himself to concentrate on what Madison was saying, just in case she decided to throw a question or two his way.

‘Basically your pelvis is in two parts and it’s held together by a joint called the symphysis pubis, which is strengthened by lots of ligaments. When you’re pregnant, your body produces a hormone called relaxin, which softens your ligaments to make it easier for you at birth—but that also means your pelvis can move during pregnancy, and the movements are what cause the pain.’

‘Can you make it stop?’ Mrs Ellis asked.

‘I’m going to give you a support belt, which will help, and you can take paracetamol to help with the pain—that’s perfectly safe for the baby. I’m also going to refer you to a physiotherapist, who can teach you some exercises for your tummy and pelvic floor that won’t hurt the baby but will help ease the pain. I can’t promise you’ll get an appointment with the physio today,’ Madison warned, ‘but if I can do it, I will.’

‘Thank you.’ Mrs Ellis wiped away the tears that had started to spill over. ‘I was so scared I was going to lose the baby.’

‘It’s always the first thing that goes through your mind,’ Madison sympathised, ‘but you’re going to be absolutely fine. Even better news is that there are a few things you can do to help make the pain go away.’

This was his cue, he thought. ‘Why don’t I tell Mrs Ellis while you talk to the physios?’ Theo suggested.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, as if she thought he was trying to take over; but then she nodded, clearly realising that this was going to save them some time. ‘Is that all right with you, Mrs Ellis?’

‘That’s fine. I don’t mind talking to student doctors.’

She thought he was a student? Well, it was an easy mistake to make. Madison had been planning to bring her fourth-year students with her, and no doubt the emergency department had cleared it with Mrs Ellis first. Theo just about managed to suppress his grin, though as Madison left the cubicle he could see amusement all over her face. Well, he could live with it. Telling Mrs Ellis that actually he was Madison’s boss wasn’t going to achieve anything other than make her feel awkward and embarrassed—and his patient’s comfort was much more important than his dignity.

He talked her through the things she could do to help herself, and was just discussing the birth plan with her when Madison swished the curtain aside, carrying a support belt. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Ellis. The physiotherapy department is completely booked up today—but I’ve persuaded them to squeeze you in first thing in the morning, just before their list starts. For now, I’m going to show you how to put this belt on and that’s going to take some of the strain for you.’

‘Thank you so much,’ Mrs Ellis said, looking relieved that she wasn’t going to have to suffer pain for much longer.

‘My pleasure.’ Madison smiled at her. ‘Do you have any questions, or has Mr Petrakis already answered them?’

‘Mr Petrakis said I should put it in my birth plan to make sure I get the most supportive birth position, and it might affect my pain relief. Will I have to have a Caesarean?’

‘I’m not going to rule it in or out at this stage,’ Madison said gently. ‘We’ll see how you go. But I will promise you that we’ll do the best for you and your baby.’

‘Will I get it again if I have more children?’ Mrs Ellis asked.

‘We honestly don’t know,’ Theo replied. ‘You might not get it at all, or it might be not as severe, or it might be worse. It really, really varies. But the best advice we can give you is to leave a good two years between pregnancies—if you do get SPD next time round and your baby’s not walking yet, you’re going to find lifting really hard.’

When Madison had fitted the support belt and checked that Mrs Ellis had transport home, she and Theo walked back up to the ward.

‘So are you happy that I know what I’m doing, or do you want to supervise me with some more cases?’ she asked.

‘I wasn’t checking up on you,’ Theo corrected. ‘I wanted to get a feel for how you worked, and I’m going to be doing the same with all the staff. Mentoring isn’t just for students, you know.’

She looked surprised. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Whatever the stage of your career, you need development or you’re going to feel stuck in a rut and be miserable. The last department I worked in had a policy of job enrichment, and that worked really well. If you don’t already have that here, maybe we can introduce it—and I’ll make sure I liaise with Iris, because I want the midwifery team to be happy with any changes we make and they might have some good suggestions, too.’

She smiled at him. ‘I like the way you think. I’m going to enjoy working with you.’

A feeling, Theo thought, that was very much mutual.

Even though for the rest of the day he was in clinic and she was in Theatre, Theo was aware of Madison all afternoon. To the point that, when their shifts ended and he found himself in the locker room at the same time as her, he said, ‘Come and have a coffee with me.’ Seeing a slightly nervous look on her face, he added, ‘Look, I don’t mean coffee as in a date. I know you’re involved with the guy in the emergency department.’

‘The guy in the…?’ She looked mystified for a second, then smiled. ‘Oh, you mean Ed.’

‘The one who called you down to Mrs Ellis,’ he confirmed.

‘I’m not involved with Ed.’

‘Then you’re free.’ Even though he knew he ought to be sensible about it, he couldn’t help mentally punching the air. And then he caught the expression on her face. ‘To take pity on the new boy, that is,’ he said swiftly. ‘I’ve spent the last five years working in the Midlands, so I don’t know the area at all, and I could do with someone to show me where I can get some good coffee around here.’

She shrugged. ‘The hospital canteen’s OK.’

‘They do espresso?’ he checked.

‘Oh. You mean serious coffee.’ For a moment, he thought she was going to give him the brush-off. Then she smiled. ‘I know the perfect place.’

She led him to a small café not far from the hospital. ‘Giovanni’s—it’s Italian?’ he asked.

She nodded.

‘A little family place. Sounds good to me.’

‘Actually, it’s a chain,’ she corrected. ‘But it’s a good one. And I’m very glad there’s a branch just round the corner from the hospital. They do the best coffee in London—not to mention these fantastic organic chocolate brownies.’

She ordered a frothy cappuccino and a brownie, and shook her head when he ordered a double espresso. ‘That much caffeine is seriously bad for you, Theo. How on earth do you sleep?’

‘I’m used to it.’ He smiled. ‘Espresso is the nearest I can get to Greek coffee outside home. Unless you happen to know a decent Greek restaurant around here?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m afraid Greek coffee is a taste I haven’t acquired. It’s all the bits.’ She grimaced. ‘That thick gloopy stuff at the bottom.’

He laughed. ‘You’re not supposed to drink it to the last drop. And the kaimaki—the froth—is gorgeous, if it’s made properly. Like an espresso. But I admit it’s an acquired taste, and I can’t drink it sweet, the way my father does.’ He paused. ‘I enjoyed working with you today. You’re as good a doctor as you are a dancer. Intuitive and empathetic.’

To his pleasure, her eyes widened slightly. So she wasn’t entirely indifferent to him, then? She felt this same weird pull, the chemistry between them?

‘Thank you.’ She inclined her head. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to thank you for the dance at the ball.’

He shrugged. ‘Your friend was rather—how should I say?—intent on seeing you.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Put it down to too much champagne. On his part, not mine.’

‘I hear you organised the ball. And that you made enough for half a scanner.’

‘Only the first half of it.’

‘That’s still a pretty big achievement.’

She shrugged it off. ‘I was part of a committee.’

‘But the ball was your idea?’

‘The music was.’ She grinned. ‘One of these days I’m going to convert these philistines and make them admit that the old songs are the best.’

‘So you don’t like modern music?’

‘I just like something I can sing along to. The kind of stuff that puts a smile on your face when you hear it because it’s so full of verve. And I don’t care if people think it’s old-fashioned: I like it.’ She took a sip of her coffee. ‘I suppose it’s because it’s the stuff I grew up with. Dad always had it playing in the garage when he was tinkering with a car. Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, that sort of stuff.’

He couldn’t help smiling. ‘So would I be right in guessing that your favourite films are musicals?’

‘Absolutely. You can’t beat a good Gene Kelly film,’ she said, smiling back.

The more Theo talked to Madison, the more he liked her. Felt a connection with her. Wanted to spend time with her. Which made her dangerous. He should stop this right now. Apart from the fact that he was only here for six months, he knew that mixing work and relationships could make life much too complicated. And he wasn’t looking for a relationship in any case.

Yet his mouth seemed to have other ideas.

‘I won something pretty stunning on the tombola—a balloon flight at sunrise. Why don’t you come with me?’

She went very still. ‘Are you asking me on a date?’

This time his head managed to overrule his heart where his mouth was concerned. ‘I’m asking you as a colleague and potential friend,’ he said.

She smiled. ‘Then thank you. I’d like that. I’ve never been in a balloon.’

‘Then let’s synchronise our off-duty. When are you free?’

She took her diary from her handbag. ‘Thursday or Friday?’

‘Not this week. How about next week?’ he suggested.

‘Tuesday and Wednesday.’

‘Wednesday it is,’ he said. ‘I’ll book the flight and find out what we need to know.’