Chapter 4 #2
Bella nodded. ‘I didn’t expect to enjoy geriatrics this much,’ she confessed, ‘but you know what?’
‘What?’
‘They’re as good as babies in their own way. You can’t help loving them.’
Wally was coming out of his post-ictal state reasonably quickly. With plenty of assistance, staff got him onto a stretcher and ready to be taken to the CT lab.
‘Go with him.’ Lady Dorothy had been watching the drama from her bed and anyone could see that Bella was torn when she went back into her patient’s room. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Go,’ Oliver agreed. ‘I’ll come down and see what the results are as soon as I can.’ He lifted a hand in farewell to his mother and followed Bella out of the door.
‘About before,’ he said quietly. ‘You have every right to say “no” to my mother. And if you have any doubts about accepting the position she’s offering, that’s exactly what you should say.’
* * *
If she had any doubts?
What about his doubts? The frank disapproval that had radiated from him the other night when Lady Dorothy had first mooted the subject?
Had he changed his mind? He couldn’t have missed the bond that had developed between her and his mother over the last few days, and Oliver Dawson clearly loved his mother.
And he’d witnessed her dealing with an emergency with another patient today.
Did he, in fact, think she might be the right person for this important job now?
Approve of her, even?
The very idea made her head spin all over again.
Why was it suddenly such a desirable thing to have Oliver approve of her?
Bella tried to shake it off as being no more than a way of redeeming herself for the klutzy mistakes she seemed to have been programmed to make in front of him up till now.
A desire to prove that she wasn’t incompetent and irresponsible. The way she had today?
Wally had had his scan now. A procedure that had shown Bella’s inexpert diagnosis to be correct. There was a growth in the elderly man’s head that was causing his symptoms. He was scheduled for an MRI scan and the more detailed results would determine whether the tumour was operable.
He was resting comfortably in his own room now and Bella was back with Lady Dorothy, testing her blood-sugar levels again.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what Oliver had said, though. And now she was fighting a desire to win more of his approval.
It pulled her back in time. To those way too familiar episodes of being desperate to win back the approval of her father. Or Kate. But then, Oliver wasn’t family. She wasn’t even attracted to him, except in that pining after a movie-star, unattainable kind of way.
Letting herself think for a moment that that unattainability might be up for negotiation was guaranteed to make her head spin to a degree where she might do something really silly, so Bella made a determined effort to plant herself firmly back in reality.
She focused on what Lady Dorothy was now saying.
Oliver had been right. His mother wasn’t giving up on trying to persuade her to become her private nurse.
‘You’d love it, I promise. We have access to a beach that’s so cut off other people can only get to it by boat so it’s virtually private. And’ – Lady Dorothy reached out to touch Bella’s hand – ‘it would mean so much, dear. To both me and Oliver.’
Really?
‘Your son thinks I’m an idiot,’ Bella heard herself blurt out.
Well, maybe he didn’t think she was quite as stupid as he had done but it wouldn’t take much to wipe out the better impression he’d gained today, would it? Bella knew perfectly well she was highly likely to do something else that he would think ill-considered. Or irresponsible.
Lady Dorothy was silent for a moment. ‘Oliver didn’t have the happiest childhood,’ she said then. ‘He learned self-control and responsibility at an age when most children were simply having fun.’
She sounded sad about it. As though she considered it a failing on her part as a mother. Bella found herself curling her own hand around Lady Dorothy’s. Very gently, so she didn’t hurt the still red, swollen joints.
Oliver had had an unhappy childhood? Bella had always found that sadness was very contagious.
‘He’s brilliant at what he does,’ Lady Dorothy continued, ‘and I couldn’t be more proud of him, but…’ She lowered her voice. ‘He’s just a little bit stuffy, don’t you think?’
Bella gasped. This was as outrageous as Oliver making jokes about his mother.
In fact, there was an amused gleam in Lady Dorothy’s eyes that reminded her very strongly of the one she’d seen in Oliver’s.
‘It would do him good to get shaken up a little,’ Lady Dorothy murmured. ‘To have some fun.’
Oh… but that concept appealed to Bella no end. The streak of mischief that she knew she really ought to grow out of was firing up right now. Alert and sending delicious, persuasive bursts of energy through her body. Teasing Oliver Dawson?
It had often worked with her father.
And Kate.
But to try it on Oliver? No-o-o. It would be like playing with fire. Lighting matches near something when she had no idea what the result might be.
A disappointing fizzle?
A conflagration?
An explosion that could cause all manner of collateral damage?
Hmm. Not a good idea. That temptation would have to be filed under the other reasons that weren’t quite morally acceptable.
Like solving the problem of moving out of Kate’s house to give her and Connor some privacy as they started the rest of their lives together.
Like living in some amazing mansion that had an indoor swimming pool and a private beach.
Like having enough money to make her overseas experience one long holiday instead of small snatches of time sandwiched between jobs.
Bella was still holding Lady Dorothy’s hand. Stroking it very, very gently. Feeling the shape of her joints and knowing how much pain and frustration they were causing her.
And then she looked up and caught Lady Dorothy’s gaze and suddenly everything fell into place with a very obvious clunk.
This wasn’t about any financial incentives.
It wasn’t about Oliver Dawson.
It was about a woman who just happened to be his mother and the look in this elderly woman’s eyes. The plea in them. It could be her beloved nana looking at her right now.
She’d been too late to do much for Nana. To help her get to a space where she could still have a good quality of life for however many years she had left. But she could do it… for Lady Dorothy.
She wanted to do it. More than she wanted anything else that was on the immediate agenda, like working with babies or heading for Europe. Six months would be long enough to make a real difference, wouldn’t it?
It seemed long enough to be able to accomplish anything.
‘I’ll do it,’ she said softly. ‘I’d really like to be your nurse, Lady Dorothy.’