Prognosis Christmas Baby - Amy Andrews Page 0,46

their job to be the gophers for the staff looking after the patients as it was policy in PICU that no patient was ever left unattended.

‘Sure thing,’ Ray said.

As Maggie pushed though the swing doors of the unit she heard singing and was delighted to see that the choir that visited the hospital every night in the lead-up to Christmas had stopped outside the PICU parents’ lounge.

The entire floor was often overlooked as outsiders were hesitant about approaching the unit. But Maggie knew one thing for sure — PICU parents were probably the most stressed parents in the hospital.

If anyone needed a little light entertainment, it was them.

They sang ‘Ding Dong Merrily on High’ and Maggie lingered for a moment, listening to the superb voices and feeling a sense of peace on earth and goodwill to all men. She looked around at the parents who had come outside to listen and was gratified to see smiles.

‘They’re good, aren’t they?’

Maggie looked beside her to see Christopher’s grandfather watching as he peeled an orange. ‘Yes.’

‘Where are you off to?’ he asked.

Maggie darted him a quick look. While she didn’t want the hassle of him being alerted to the imminent transfusion, she wasn’t going to lie or sneak around. Christopher needed the blood. It was a medically indicated intervention and she would not let one cranky old man compromise her patient’s condition.

‘To the blood fridge,’ she said, keeping her voice calm and neutral. But she saw his lips thin and his fingers tighten around the orange and for the first time instead of feeling annoyed she felt a little creeped out.

‘Bree’s wrong to allow this,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve read the reports the government tries to cover up. He could end up with HIV or Hep B. You could be passing on a death sentence.’

‘Mr Thirkettle, as Dr Reece has already explained, blood transfusions are screened for both HIV and Hep B.’

‘What about that mad cow’s disease? There’s no test for it.’

‘No, but the donors are screened,’ Maggie said patiently. They’d been through this several times over the last few days. ‘It’s a very safe, very effective treatment. Your grandson needs this transfusion.’

He shook his head. ‘Bree should never have given her consent.’

‘Your daughter is following medical advice.’

‘Hmph! Doctors,’ he sneered. ‘They’ve got it wrong in the past. Just ask my poor Lizzy.’

Maggie was a little chilled by the utter disdain and tinge of hatred she heard in his voice. Her feelings of goodwill vanished as she began to really worry that he might attempt to stop the transfusion going ahead. She made a mental note to ring Security and alert them to the potential threat when she got back to the unit.

Great, just what she needed! Just what Bree needed — her father being carted off by security.

She excused herself as the choir took its leave, putting the altercation behind her. It took all sorts, Maggie lectured herself as she turned in the opposite direction from the singers and walked along the practically deserted corridors of the hospital to the blood fridge.

It was nearly eight o’clock and thanks to Christopher’s grandfather she was now counting down the minutes until the end of her shift.

Ninety, to be exact.

Using her swipe card to access the room where the fresh blood products were kept, the low hum of the fridge’s motor greeted her, echoing around the confined space. Maggie opened the heavy door and searched through the various trays until she found Christopher’s bags.

The top one had the lab form attached and she pulled it out, signed for it in the book beside the fridge, then let herself out of the room.

She was almost back when she rounded a corner to find Christopher’s grandfather sitting in one of the low chairs that had been strategically placed on every floor near the lifts to create a lounge-type area. He rose to his feet quickly when he saw her and she stopped abruptly.

‘Is that it?’ he asked, nodding towards the bag of blood she had in her hand.

Maggie’s heart thumped loudly as a prickle of danger lift the hairs on her neck. She edged closer, her gaze darting over his shoulder. ‘Yes.’ She swallowed.

‘I’m going to appeal to your compassionate side now, Nurse, and ask you not to do this.’

She edged again slowly trying to get to the other side of him. He hadn’t given her any reason to suspect that he’d hurt anyone but this was definitely threatening behaviour. ‘Okay,’ she reasoned. ‘Let’s go back to the

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