Chapter 9
Something wasn’t quite right.
Oliver couldn’t put his finger on what it was but it was bothering him. His registrar gave him a sideways glance as they stood in front of the CT scan they were examining.
‘Problem?’
Oliver gave his head a definitive shake. ‘Looks straightforward to me. Burr holes here and here…’ He indicated the spots. ‘Lifting the bone flap over this area should give us clear access to the clot.’
‘Right. I’ll go and get scrubbed.’ But the registrar gave him another odd glance, as if he could tell that something was bothering Oliver.
And something was, but it wasn’t anything to do with any of the cases that were lined up for neurosurgery today.
It was Bella who kept sneaking into his head. He could banish her, of course, and get on with his job, but she kept coming back. Leaving this odd, unsettled feeling behind.
Ever since he’d got back from Melbourne a week ago, since he’d come so close to kissing her again when she’d been walking past wrapped in that towel and looking so deliciously damp, she’d been…
different. Not that he’d seen that much of her.
Some days he didn’t see her at all, in fact, and despite the plausible reasons his mother offered, he was beginning to think she was deliberately avoiding his company.
And when he did see her, she was most definitely quieter.
Subdued, almost. More grown up or something.
And, as ridiculous as the word seemed when describing Bella Graham, she seemed more dignified.
He hadn’t heard her singing. Or laughing, come to think of it. He certainly hadn’t seen her dancing.
Boyfriend hassles, perhaps?
Not that it was any of his business. And he certainly had no right to feel put out by the notion that there were other men in Bella’s life.
Other men?
Good grief, where had that come from? As if he was in Bella’s life?
Oliver scrubbed in with his usual attention to detail.
A short time later, gowned and gloved, he supervised his registrar making the burr holes in the shaved area of their patient’s head.
It wasn’t until the bone flap had been lifted and the dura exposed that he held his hand out for the surgical scissors required to snip through the protective covering of the brain.
For a good while then not a single thought of Bella intruded.
The clot that had been pressing on this woman’s brain after the head injury she’d sustained in a car accident was carefully extracted.
There was no new bleeding to be seen and closing the wound was uneventful.
The registrar was left with the task of replacing the bone flap and stitching the scalp back together.
With her head swathed in bandages, the woman would go back to the ICU for observation and Oliver could check in on her before they started their next case.
Stripping his gloves off as he left Theatre, he gave his mask a tug but only the top string broke, leaving it dangling around his neck.
Like a bib.
Like Bella’s had been that day he’d growled at her for coming into his theatre in such slap-dash fashion.
And there she was again.
Okay, maybe it was his business if she had boyfriend issues that were making her unhappy. What if it wasn’t a boyfriend? What if she was becoming bored with her new job of being his mother’s private nurse?
That was a real possibility, wasn’t it?
Bella was made for adventure. For doing wild, irresponsible things that involved lots of noise and movement and laughter. She might be doing an astonishingly good job of helping his mother in her rehabilitation, but how long could such a confined routine appeal to a free spirit like Bella?
She might decide to leave and head off on that overseas trip she was so keen on having, and where would that leave his mother? And him?
This time, that unsettled feeling contained an extra element. Guilt. For some reason Oliver couldn’t help thinking that he might be to blame for whatever was going on.
That attraction between them was as strong as it had been the night he’d totally lost control and given in to temptation.
Maybe it was even stronger on his side judging by the pull he’d felt to kiss her again the other night.
Was it the same for Bella? Was she feeling…
rejected in some way, because he’d told her that it wasn’t appropriate?
Bit like shagging one of the servants, really, wasn’t it?
How absurd was that?
That hadn’t been why it was so inappropriate. It had been because she was his mother’s employee and even that wasn’t enough of a reason in itself.
It was because she was who she was; it was as simple as that.
Someone who could float through life in a joyous and carefree manner, flouting the rules if she thought she could get away with it or if it was going to be so much fun it would be worth it. She had no weight of social responsibilities or even the pressures of doing a high-powered job.
Oliver could feel the scowl on his face deepening as he strode off to do a quick ward round between theatre cases.
A knot of something like resentment was forming in his gut. Was he jealous of the kind of freedom Bella had?
No, of course he wasn’t.
The social obligations were just a distraction. He didn’t care about the status that went with being in an elite group of moneyed people, but he did care about the power they had to change things in society that weren’t right.
He did, however, love his job. He wouldn’t swap it for anything.
He loved the drama and pressure of Theatre and he got enormous satisfaction out of changing people’s lives for the better.
Stepping in when they – or their loved ones – were so terrified because something bad was happening inside a brain.
The idea of the soul being located in the heart was so off beam.
Everything happened inside the brain and if it got too damaged the person was lost forever.
Like poor old Wally, who he was popping in to see now. The elderly gentleman who’d finally had his brain tumour removed was now back in the geriatric ward.
Oliver checked in with the nurse manager to see how he was doing.
‘Not bad at all,’ Sally told him. ‘That left-sided weakness is still there but his speech is getting clearer every day. And once he relearns a word for something, it’s there the next time he wants it.
’ She grinned. ‘He’s feeling so much better today he asked when the next line-dancing class was happening. He’s missing Bella.’
Oliver just stared at Sally. That’s what it was. He was missing Bella, too. The happy Bella. That’s why he kept thinking about her at inappropriate moments. Why he was left feeling unsettled.
‘We’re all missing her,’ Sally sighed, disconcertingly seeming to read his mind. ‘She just has a knack of making the world around her a brighter place, doesn’t she?’
Not right now she didn’t.
‘How’s Lady Dorothy getting on?’
‘Excellent progress,’ Oliver reported. ‘She can’t manage her blood-sugar testing or her insulin injections by herself yet but she’s getting more independent with other things every day. I think she’ll end up needing very little assistance.’
‘That’s fantastic.’ Sally raised her eyebrows. ‘Maybe she won’t need Bella much longer and we could have her back.’
‘Doubt it. My mother has become very fond of Bella.’ Oliver could feel his scowl trying to emerge again. ‘Besides, she’s planning to head overseas to have adventures as soon as she’s not needed in this position.’
‘Oh, that’s right. The big OE and then settling down to have a dozen babies.’ Sally laughed. ‘Our Bella certainly knows what she wants out of life.’
Oliver said nothing. He was, to outward appearances, now deeply focused on Wally’s notes.
What he was actually doing was breathing a sigh of relief.
That was precisely why a relationship with Bella was so out of the question.
It wasn’t that she was so unlike the women he’d always dated because, right now, in this quiet, dignified mode, she wasn’t that different after all.
It was because she wanted something so different from her life.
The kind of women he dated and that his mother was expecting him to choose from to produce a Dawson heir one day would have one or two children at the most. And a nanny to look after them, no doubt.
He could just see Bella with a dozen kids and no nanny. A whole shambolic house full of them, tumbling around and dancing. And singing and shouting and laughing.
It would be loud and chaotic and… well… Oliver couldn’t imagine any neurosurgeon who’d want to go home after a hard day’s work to something like that.
He loved going home to the peace and quiet routine of his life.
To the physical release of his gymnasium and the emotional peace of the summer house.
He’d found it disruptive getting used to having Bella around in the first place.
He should be delighted that her exuberance was wearing off and things were getting back to more like they had been in the past.
As long as she didn’t disappear completely.
* * *
‘Oh, look, Bella…’ Lady Dorothy held up a spray of white roses, having successfully squeezed the handles of the secateurs to snip the stem. ‘I did it.’
‘Well done, you.’
Lady Dorothy was beaming at her with such pleasure that Bella had to give her a hug.
‘How’s your hand feeling?’
‘Absolutely fine. Let’s get some more. I want to have a lovely big bowl of flowers on the table for dinner tonight. Freesias, to go with these icebergs because they have such a lovely scent. I do love yellow and white together, don’t you? Such a happy combination.’