Page 14 of Beg, Borrow or Steal
However, it would seem she was a long way from ‘sorting it’, and the entire day of frustration crashed over her as she swiped furiously at her cheeks – which was why she missed the flash of pink streak pass her into the office.
‘Why did you make my mummy cry?’ asked Rosie. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips and her head tilted to the side – both danger signs, warning Libby that she’d better remove Rosie from the situation pronto.
‘I …’ Dr Morrison turned around in her chair and jumped when she saw the angry little girl standing right next to her. Her eyes went from Rosie to Libby and she frowned in confusion.
‘Are you okay, dear?’ Dr Phillips asked Libby, his wrinkled face frowning as he got up to shuffle over to her and put his arm around her shoulders.
‘I’m sorry,’ Libby said in a broken voice as the tears continued to flow. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me; I didn’t mean to disturb you.’ She gave him a watery smile. ‘Come on, Little Louse,’ she said to Rosie, trying to take the little girl’s hand; but she wriggled out of her grip.
‘I didn’t mean to make your mummy cry,’ Dr Morrison said to Rosie, staring at her in fascination.
‘Well, you did,’ Rosie told her.
‘Yes … I did,’ Dr Morrison agreed, much to Libby’s shock. ‘And I’m very sorry.’ She flashed Libby a very brief look as she said the word sorry; regret and confusion were all Libby could see in her expression, not the anger she might have expected. ‘Sometimes … I’m not very good with … people.’
‘Why not?’ Rosie asked.
‘Well, I … um,’ Dr Morrison’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I guess they ... I guess they sort of scare me.’
Rosie’s hands dropped from her hips, much to Libby’s relief, as this meant they were out of the Danger Zone, Rosie-temper-wise. ‘But my mummy’s not scawy.’
‘Rosie,’ Libby said, her voice stronger now that she had some control over her tears, ‘what happened to the little mouse that lost his voice? Come on, we’ve got to go.’
‘I wasnota mouse – I was a squashed dead slug. But I decided to come back to life.’
‘Right well come on, slug. Let’s – ’
‘I’m going to stay with the grumpy lady, Mummy. You go and finish your work. I’m tired of being a squashed dead slug.’
Libby made a grab for Rosie’s hand again but she darted further into the office to stand on the other side of Dr Morrison.
‘Rosie,’ Libby whisper-shouted, now beyond mortified that she had not only cried in front of two of the hospital’s radiologists but was also demonstrating how little control she had over her own daughter. ‘Come herenow.’
‘She … um …’ Dr Morrison flashed Libby a very brief glance before looking back at her computer screen, which seemed to be her default. ‘She can stay here if you … I mean, if you have things to do before you leave. I don’t mind.’
‘But I thought you finished at five? It’s past six, don’t you want to – ’
‘You go and sort what needs sorting, young lady,’ Dr Phillips said, patting her on the back. ‘Millie’ll keep an eye on her. We’ll take a look at that report, you get your stuff together and finish up what needs to be done.’ He was smiling broadly as he watched Rosie and Dr Morrison together – for some reason bizarrely happy at this turn of events. Libby pushed her hair behind her ears and puffed out a frustrated breath. If she was honest the prospect of not having to cart Rosie around with her to grab her stuff and finish up on the ward was very welcome.
*****
Jamie ran down the last of the stairs into the radiology department to the office he was after and knocked loudly on the door. When there was no answer he breathed a sigh of relief and shoved the envelope under the office door. Whatever communication Pav needed to have with Nuclear Winter (the name, one of Pav’s creations, had been adopted by most of the hospital for Dr Morrison, seeing as she was ice cold and worked with radiation), Jamie really wished he wouldn’t ask him to run things down to her office. Today it was: ‘You’ve got to help me out, mate. She seriously gives me the creeps but I need to get her on board with presenting her project at the Grand Round.’
He was about to turn and leave when he heard hushed voices from inside the office. He frowned and put his ear to the door – the louder of the two voices was almost certainly a child’s. Nosey bastard that he was, he knocked again and the voices fell silent, so he turned the handle and pushed. Nuclear Winter was kneeling on the floor, with Rosie sitting cross-legged in front of her. Rosie’s head was covered in an intricate series of French plaits and Dr Morrison was securing the back of them with a hair band.
‘Jamie!’ Rosie shouted, jumping up from the floor and barrelling into his legs to give them a bone-crushing hug. ‘Have you come to take us home now?’
Jamie stared down at Rosie’s happy upturned face, then over to Dr Morrison, who was awkwardly getting to her feet. He had never seen the woman in anything less that perfect order; it was weird to see her skirt wrinkled and her face flushed.
‘Why didn’t you answer the door?’ he asked Dr Morrison, who was now back to her annoying habit of zero eye contact.
‘Millie doesn’t like people,’ Rosie told him. Dr Morrison’s horrified eyes flicked to his and then away, and her face flushed even redder.
‘I’m not on call, Dr Grantham,’ she told him in her little robotic, ice-cold voice. ‘I finish at five today.’
‘That doesn’t mean you can’t open the door.’
‘She didn’t know it was you looking for me, silly,’ Rosie chipped in. ‘I told her to open it. I told her it might be someone shewantsto see, but she said there was nobody sheeverwanted to see.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘She’s a bit weird.’
