Kitabı oku: «The Pregnant Intern», sayfa 2

Pre-op clinics always ran overtime and today was no exception, given the fact it was the intern’s first day and the consultant had only just returned from sick leave.

It was Alice’s job to clerk the patients, which involved taking a full medical history. From there she would order any test she thought necessary prior to the patient’s admission, such as ECGs and blood tests. Then the consultant would review the patient and agree or disagree with the intern’s suggestions, invariably adding or removing a test. At this point, Jeremy explained, he would like her to be present.

‘There’s not much point otherwise. At least we can both explain our thought processes behind the pre-op work-ups. The down side is it means we won’t be out of here much before six.’ He gave her a sideways look. ‘Or maybe even seven. Is that a problem?’

Alice shook her head. ‘Sounds fine to me.’

And so they battled away. Alice took excellent histories. Somehow she managed to get the patients to open up—maybe because she gave a bit of herself back. But under her steady, unaccusing gaze the ‘occasional smoker’ would admit to a twenty a day habit and even the ‘social drinker’ admitted to a few cans mid-week. She took Jeremy’s advice, though, and somehow by remembering that it was she that was holding the consultation she managed to avoid some of the more embarrassing questions that, until now, patients had assumed it was their right to ask. Not that she wasn’t personable and friendly, but Marcus’s rejection and her current circumstances were something Alice was having difficulty dealing with herself without the constant, however well meaning, advice from strangers.

Jeremy, on the other hand, seemed to be taking his own advice to the extreme. He was courteous, friendly even, yet he gave nothing away about himself. Every personal comment, every attempt by a patient to make small talk was immediately and skilfully rebuffed. So skilfully, in fact, that it took Alice the full afternoon to realise he never spoke about himself other than with reference to his work.

Jeremy didn’t seem remotely bothered by her apparent slowness. In fact, by the time the last patient had been seen and the clock was edging towards seven, he seemed more than happy to prolong the evening with a chat.

‘That’s the last, Mr Foster.’

The young nurse popped her head around the door and Alice noticed her looking pointedly at her watch.

‘Thanks, Emily, you did a great job today. I’m sorry we’ve made you so late. And, by the way, it’s Jeremy.’

Instantly the bitter expression melted.

‘No problem.’ Emily paused. ‘Jeremy. It’s nice to have you back.’

That man could get away with murder, Alice thought. Why, even the most respected consultant wouldn’t be left in doubt of the nurse’s wrath if he let the clinic run more than two hours over, but for some reason Jeremy could get away with it. The nurses had been just as forgiving as the patients.

‘I’d just like to run a couple of things by you before you go,’ Jeremy said, interrupting her thoughts.

‘OK.’ Putting the pile of notes she had completed into the in-tray, Alice took a seat at his desk.

‘You’re sure?’ Jeremy checked. ‘You haven’t got a babysitter you’ve got to get back to or anything?’

‘I don’t have to worry about that for a few months yet.’

‘And if Mrs Marshall’s observations were correct, I can assume you don’t have a husband or partner wanting his dinner on the table?’

Alice swallowed nervously. She had known it would only be a matter of time before he asked. ‘Another thing I don’t have to worry about.’

‘Good.’

Alice looked up sharply. ‘Is it?’

Jeremy gave her a brief smile. ‘For me it is. Look, Alice, you’ve heard the gossip. I’m a has-been, I’m coming back too soon, I’m half the surgeon I used to be, and all that.’

Alice flushed. ‘I’ve heard nothing of the sort,’ she lied.

‘Bull.’

His expletive hit the mark. ‘Well, maybe a few remarks,’ she admitted. ‘But you know what this place is like. Once you’ve been back for a couple of weeks you’ll soon put them right. Anyway,’ she added somewhat more forcefully, ‘what on earth has any of this to do with my marital status?’

‘Everything and nothing. You know how politically correct everything is these days, Alice. Apparently, I’m not supposed to notice the obvious fact that you’re pregnant. And even if it’s brought to my attention I’m not supposed to let it affect my judgement of you in any way. Even by having this conversation, effectively you could run off to the anti-discrimination council and have me up to my neck in hot water.’

Alice was totally confused. ‘Why would I?’

‘Because, as I said, your rather large bump supposedly shouldn’t affect my judgement of you in the slightest.’

‘And does it?’ Alice asked boldly.

Jeremy stared at her for an age. Her heavy dark hair was too much for the loose scrunchy she was wearing and was slipping from its grasp, and dark grey eyes were staring up at him as if waiting for his judgement. For a second he lost his train of thought, but only for a second. His eyes flicked downwards again, and came to rest on the soft yet firm swell of her stomach.

‘Yes,’ he answered simply. ‘Yes, it does.’

‘But why? Just because I’m pregnant, it doesn’t make me any less a doctor.’

Jeremy put his hands up. Tanned, manicured, long-fingered hands, Alice noticed...surgeon’s hands. ‘I never meant—’

But Alice interrupted him, jumping to her feet. Suddenly she felt threatened. Maybe he was about to say he didn’t want her on his team, would never have agreed to it had he been in on the interview. All she knew was that it was imperative he let her stay. ‘Being pregnant makes me a better doctor. I now know what it’s like to lie on an examining couch and be prodded and poked. I know how it feels to be vulnerable, to be a number in the system.’

‘Whoa.’ Jeremy gestured for her to sit down.

Furious with herself for reacting so violently, Alice meekly did as she was told. Not trusting herself to speak, she looked up at him.

Jeremy cleared his throat before speaking. ‘Firstly, I have absolutely no doubt you’re a fine doctor. Your references are exemplary, and from what I’ve seen today you merit every word that was written. Secondly, I’m sure you really are a better doctor for being on the receiving end of the health system. I know without a shadow of doubt that I am, or at least I hope I will be. Take Mrs Marshall today. Normally I’d have dropped her pethidine down even further, and I’m not proud of that fact. But, having been in pain myself, I now recognise it all the more.’ He stopped talking and for a moment Alice thought he had forgotten she was even there.

‘And thirdly,’ she prompted. ‘I assume there’s more?’

Jeremy snapped back to attention, a wry smile touching the edge of his lips. ‘I’m not an obstetrician, and with good reason.’

Alice’s eyebrows shot up in a questioning look.

‘Heaven knows, they make enough money.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Alice grumbled, thinking of the invoice from Brett Halliday sitting in her bedside drawer amongst the other pile of unpaid bills.

‘What I’m trying to say,’ Jeremy continued, ‘albeit not very well, is that pregnant women terrify me.’

Alice started to laugh, then stifled her giggle as she realised he wasn’t joking.

‘You’re not serious?’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Deadly serious. I mean, see it from my angle. If I bawl you out, are you going to burst into tears or, worse, will I induce premature labour? If I keep you behind in a clinic or call you into Theatre at midnight, am I going to do irreparable damage to the baby?’

Alice really was laughing now. ‘Jeremy, I’m not a doll. I’m not some precious Ming vase that’s about to shatter, for heaven’s sake. I’m pregnant, that’s all. Women have been managing it throughout time, in fact.’

‘I know, I know. Look, I’m probably not being fair, landing this lot on you. I know you haven’t asked for special favours or anything. It’s just that I’m going to be pretty full-on in the ensuing months, far more so than any of the other surgeons, and that means I’m going to be asking a lot from you. I just need to know that you’re up to it and if you’re not I need you to tell me.’

‘I’m up to it.’ Alice said with conviction, but it wasn’t the answer Jeremy wanted to hear.

‘You still don’t understand, do you?’

Alice looked at him, nonplussed. What more did he want—an affidavit?

‘If I’m piling it on too thick I need to know you’ll tell me. I’m single-minded where work’s concerned. What I’m trying to say is that my career is everything to me. Now, I might expect loyalty and hard work from my staff and sometimes I admit I stretch the limits, but in your case you have a baby to think of. I’m not a soft touch—anything but—and I need to know that you’ll tell me if there’s a problem. It might not be politically correct, or whatever you want to call it, but I can’t pretend your condition doesn’t exist. If I’m coming down too hard, you must say so.’

Alice was surprised by his words, stunned even. From what she had heard of Jeremy Foster, compassion and understanding weren’t on his list of credentials, and even if his attempt at these had been somewhat bumbling and massively sexist, she was touched at his attempt. ‘I will,’ she said softly.

‘So long as we’ve cleared that up, then.’ Jeremy gave her a dismissive nod and Alice said goodnight. Retrieving her bag from the nurses’ station, it suddenly became imperative that she thank him. Making her way back to his room, she stepped inside. Jeremy was sitting there, his head in his hands. Two soluble painkillers were fizzing away in the glass next to him. From the hunch of his wide shoulders she could tell he was tense, possibly in pain. Sensing someone’s presence, he sat up smartly and turned around.

‘Was there anything else?’

Alice hesitated. Suddenly she felt as if she had witnessed a side that Jeremy didn’t want to be seen, as if she had somehow invaded his privacy.

‘I just wanted to thank you.’

‘There’s really no need. You’ll be calling me all sorts of names by the end of the week.’

Alice gave a small smile. She knew she should go now, but for some reason she found herself standing there. He might be her consultant, but at this moment Jeremy Foster looked nothing like the dashing, confident man she had met this morning. He looked exhausted—the day must have taken its toll—and in pain, too. ‘Er, is there anything I can get you?’

Jeremy gave her a quizzical look. ‘Like what?’

Alice shrugged. ‘A cup of tea perhaps?’

Jeremy gave a low laugh before answering sarcastically, ‘A woman’s solution to everything.’ When Alice flushed he added more kindly, ‘At least, it’s my mother’s solution.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve got a headache, that’s all. I’ll be fine.’ And, turning his back, he started dictating his notes into a machine for his secretary.

Well, what had she expected? For Jeremy Foster to confide in her, to tell her how bad he was feeling? She let out a low moan. Imagine offering him a cup of tea! Of all the stupid things to say—in one sentence she had relegated herself to the little-woman role where Jeremy so obviously thought she belonged.

If only she had known that at that same moment Jeremy’s head was back in his hands and he was thinking that maybe he should have accepted that cup of tea. Maybe a few minutes spent talking to Alice would have made things a bit easier for him if he’d told her how it was for him, that the accident hadn’t left him completely unscathed. That his back was killing him and he suffered headaches that were indescribable. After all, he was going to be relying a lot on her over the next few months and he was hardly about to bare his soul to Linda. And as for Josh—well, Josh was a good bloke but he gossiped far too much. Maybe talking to Alice would have helped lighten his load. But what good could have come from it? She seemed like a nice girl, but he hardly knew her. No doubt in five minutes’ flat the word would be around the hospital. Has-been, past it, came back too soon. Jeremy pulled a face as he downed the rest of the revolting medicine. He’d just have to wear it for now.

CHAPTER TWO

‘COULD I have a bit more light? It’s like operating in a bloody dungeon here.’ Alice moved the overhead light a fraction. She was too focussed on the direness of the situation to take Jeremy’s comments personally.

‘Dear God, why didn’t they bring him in sooner?’

Alice didn’t answer. She knew Jeremy was talking more to himself than to anyone else.

‘More traction,’ he ordered, and Alice pulled back on the retractor holding the incision Jeremy had swiftly cut further back to allow for greater visibility. She could see the sweat pouring down his forehead. No matter how many times the nurse wiped it, only seconds later he was drenched again.

He’s in pain again, Alice thought, suddenly feeling sorry for him.

She had been working with Jeremy for two weeks now, and whatever Jeremy lacked in social skills he made up for in the operating room. He was quite simply the best surgeon she had ever seen. His long fingers worked deftly, his vivid blue eyes seemed to pick up the minutest detail almost before it became apparent to anyone else. But were his skills enough to save this young life?

Lachlan Scott had been wheeled into the accident and emergency department less than two hours previously. The young medical student had been complaining of abdominal pain for a couple of days now, but hadn’t thought to do anything about it. Only this morning had he turned up at his father’s house, vomiting and in great pain. His father, one of the leading physicians at the hospital, had immediately rushed him in. The diagnosis of appendicitis had been made even before he had hit the accident and emergency department; but it soon became clear from his rigid abdomen and shocked appearance that his appendix had already ruptured and the patient was now suffering from peritonitis. Linda and Josh had been in the middle of a hernia repair, which had left Jeremy with only the most junior of assistants.

Alice’s back was killing her. Lachlan Scott had come in on the end of an already busy morning in the operating theatre, but for now her back was the least of her concerns.

‘I think we’re winning.’ Jeremy looked up briefly and Alice could read the look of sheer relief in his vivid eyes. By the time Jeremy had stitched the last of the drains into place, which would drain any excess fluid from Lachlan’s abdomen, and had covered the wound with a huge clear dressing, they had been operating for over two hours. ‘Good work, everyone. Let’s get him out to Recovery.’

Alice would have liked nothing more than to peel off her theatre scrubs, stand under a cool shower and follow it up with a huge mug of tea, but that luxury was going to have to wait. Lachlan had been resuscitated with fluids in the emergency department and huge doses of antibiotics had already been administered, but his post-operative IV and drug regime would have to be worked out carefully if they were to allay any of the multitude of post-operative complications he might succumb to.

‘His father’s just outside,’ Carrie, the theatre charge nurse, prompted. Alice watched as the faintest hint of a frown appeared on Jeremy’s face. ‘Jeremy, he’s a consultant. It will have to be you that talks to him,’ Carrie said firmly.

‘I know, I know,’ he said irritably. ‘I’ll talk to him, but first I’m having a shower. I’ll be back to check on Lachlan shortly.’

‘Why is he so worried about talking to him?’ Alice couldn’t refrain from asking when Jeremy turned on his heel and left. ‘I mean, he did a brilliant job in there. You’d think he’d be the rushing off to tell Dr Scott.’

Carrie shrugged. ‘Probably terrified he might have to get out his handkerchief.’ She gave a small laugh and Alice heard the trace of bitterness in her voice. ‘Jeremy doesn’t like scenes or confrontations. If Lachlan had been a straightforward appendicitis he’d be out there now, grinning like a Cheshire cat and saying how well it had gone. You know as well as I do it’s going to be pretty hard telling Lachlan’s parents how sick he is. He may be out of Theatre but he certainly isn’t out of the woods yet. No doubt Jeremy’s hoping that by the time he’s had his shower someone will have done the dirty deed for him. You’ll get used to his underhand methods. I know I have.’

‘I hear you’ve been having a bit of excitement?’ Alice swung around and smiled as she saw Josh entering the recovery area. Carrie muttered something and went to check on Lachlan.

‘Too much for one morning. How about you, Josh? How was your morning with Linda?’

Josh rolled his eyes. ‘Bearable. At least the mask covers up her face.’

‘Josh, you’re terrible.’ Alice giggled.

‘I just say things as I see them.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Speaking of which, what was Carrie bitching about?’

‘Nothing, she was just saying how Jeremy avoids talking to relatives when the news is bad.’

‘Take everything Carrie says about Jeremy with a pinch of salt. She’s just bitter because he dumped her. Or rather, he didn’t dump her—he got a “friend” to do it for him.’

‘Ouch,’ Alice winced. ‘I thought there was a bit of an undercurrent between them.’

But Josh shook his head. ‘Not where Jeremy’s concerned. As soon as a relationship’s over, he forgets the woman ever existed and moves happily on to the next one. It’s the women who are left simmering—any undercurrents come from them. Jeremy’s exes probably radiate enough energy to act as the hospital’s back-up generator.’

Alice’s laughter was interrupted by Josh’s pager. ‘Now what does Linda want?’ he muttered, but his face paled as he read the message.

‘It’s Dianne ringing,’ he said, referring to his wife. Grabbing the nearest phone, he picked it up and, shaking, attempted to dial home, but kept misdialling.

‘Josh, give it here.’ Alice laughed. ‘She probably just wants you to pick up a pizza tonight. Now, what’s the number?’

But Dianne didn’t want a pizza. She wanted Josh home now or she was going to dial for an ambulance herself.

‘How far apart are the contractions?’ Alice asked as Josh replaced the telephone, his face white.

‘Two to three minutes apart, and from the noises she’s making they’re pretty full on.’ He scratched his head. ‘She was fine this morning, not a peep. I thought first labours went on for ever.’

‘In the text books maybe, but this is real life. You’d better go now, Josh.’

‘What about—?’

‘Go,’ Alice insisted. ‘I’ll tell Jeremy and Linda. Give me your pager. And ring me with the news,’ she ordered, as he handed her his pager and notes. Josh was in such a state that he handed her his wallet. ‘You don’t have to pay me.’ Alice laughed again.

‘Wish me luck,’ Josh grinned. ‘Next time you see me I’ll be a responsible father of two.’

Alice shook her head. ‘A father, yes—responsible, no. Good luck,’ she called to his rapidly departing back. And as he left Alice was suddenly filled with a hollow sadness. Josh was so excited, so ready for all that was ahead. She imagined him holding his wife’s hands, working with her, guiding her through her labour. And afterwards, when their babies were born, sharing in each other’s joy, united as a family. Her hand moved down to the solid swell beneath her theatre greens. Her baby was missing out on so much. And that hurt Alice, not for herself but for her unborn baby.

Maybe lots of women had babies without a partner these days, some even by choice, but it had never been her intention. She had always assumed that when—if—the time came to have children, it would be with the man she loved at her side. She knew the pain she felt now would only magnify with time. It had been hard enough at the antenatal classes, listening as the midwife had explained the role of the partner during labour. Alice had felt the weight of the pitying smiles then as she had sat alone, pretending to take notes.

What would it be like when she was actually in labour? When the pain got too much and there was no one she knew there to comfort her, to guide her and cheer her on? And then... Alice closed her eyes as they started to fill. How would it feel when the baby was born and there was no one to share it with, no one to gloat with and gaze in wonder at the miracle of birth?

‘He’s waking up.’

Alice snapped back to attention at Carrie’s words, and made her way over to the gurney.

‘What are his obs doing?’

‘Stable. His blood pressure’s good, still febrile and his temp’s thirty-eight.’

‘We’ll just have to wait for the antibiotics to kick in. Lachlan, it’s Dr Masters. I saw you briefly in the accident department. Lie still now, Lachlan, you’re just coming to after an operation.’ Alice kept her voice low and steady, trying to orientate and at the same time reassure the young man.

The anaesthetist had entered and was setting up a pethidine infusion for Lachlan. For the immediate post-op period a high dose of analgesic would be administered automatically, to control his pain, but as his consciousness and condition improved he would be using a patient controlled analgesia machine which would enable him to administer a safe dose of analgesic to himself as required.

‘How’s he doing?’ Jeremy asked. Looking refreshed from his shower and, as usual, immaculately presented, he accepted the chart from Carrie. His question was directed more at the anaesthetist than Alice.

‘Happy from this end. Where are you sending him?’

‘There’s a HDU bed on Surgical 1.’

‘Josh’s wife rang,’ Alice informed him. ‘Apparently—’

‘I know already,’ Jeremy answered, without looking up. ‘I collided with him on my way here.’

And that was that. No small talk, no casual remarks about wishing him well, or the usual groan about twins. Jeremy obviously wasn’t remotely interested.

‘He said he’s left his pager with you.’ The blue eyes turned to her and Alice nodded.

‘Well, if it gets too much, let Linda know. She’ll have to pitch in.’

Which was about as helpful as suggesting she ring Josh if there were any problems. There was as much chance of Linda resiting an IV as Josh leaving his wife’s side.

‘How were Lachlan’s family?’ Carrie asked.

‘Upset, relieved—the usual. I said they could pop in for two minutes before we transfer him.’

But Carrie wasn’t having any of it. ‘You know the rules. They’ll have to wait until he’s transferred to the ward, like every other family has to. Just because his father’s a consultant here—’

‘His father’s not the only consultant here,’ Jeremy reminded her. ‘If you’re so against staff having the occasional perk, like seeing their critically ill son in the recovery room, maybe it’s just as well you work in the operating room, Carrie. Your personality wouldn’t go down too well with a conscious patient.’

Alice watched as Carrie’s shoulders stiffened, two spots of colour burning on her angry, taut cheeks. And though Alice knew Carrie had been out of line, the way she had addressed Jeremy, she actually felt sorry for her. Jeremy might have been a consultant, but he had by all accounts been more to her than that, and from her reaction towards him it wasn’t all over where Carrie was concerned.

‘Any news on Josh?’

Alice shook her head as she made her way over to Fi, who was coming out from handover. ‘Not yet. I suppose he’s got a million relatives and friends to ring before he gets around to letting us know.’

Fi shrugged. ‘Dianne’s probably still in labour. Looks like it’s going to be a long hard night for womankind tonight. I suppose you’re covering for Josh as well as your own work?’

‘Linda’s going to help out,’ Alice said without much enthusiasm.

‘Like I said, it’s going to be a long hard night.’

Alice wasn’t given to moaning about her colleagues, but Fi’s inference was so spot on that Alice couldn’t help but give a small smile. ‘I bought some doughnuts,’ she said holding out a brown paper bag, which Fi accepted with a laugh.

‘Then what have I got to moan about? I’d better start doing the drugs. How about you? Do you need anything?’

Alice shook her head. ‘I’m pretty much up to date. I’ve got a couple of bloods to do at eleven so I’ll be back then. I’m going to head down to A and E—there’s a couple of patients Linda wants to admit that need to be clerked before they can be sent up to the ward, and then...’ Her voice trailed off as Jeremy and Linda walked through the ward doors.

‘Bit late for a ward round,’ Fi muttered.

‘How’s Lachlan Scott doing?’ Jeremy enquired.

‘His temperature’s come down and his obs are stable,’ Alice answered. ‘I just left him.’

‘Good. We’re just going to have a quick look before I head off.’

‘Sure.’

But though Linda headed off to the HDU section, Jeremy just stood there. ‘Er, I was wondering if I could have a word?’

‘I’ll get on with the drugs,’ Fi said cheerfully, but Jeremy shook his head. ‘With both of you, please. Fi, do you mind if we go into your office?’ Not waiting for an answer, he led the way. Fi and Alice followed, a worried look passing between the two women. There must be a problem on the ward they didn’t know about. ‘Sit down, please.’

Alice felt as if she were being hauled into the headmaster’s office for a telling-off, but when she finally looked up at Jeremy she realised that he wasn’t angry.

‘I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.’

Alice swallowed nervously.

‘What?’ Fi asked bluntly.

‘It would seem that Dianne’s labour wasn’t very straightforward.’

Alice felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

‘Apparently, the first twin, a little boy, was delivered successfully, but there were problems getting the second twin out.’

‘Shoulder dystocia?’ Fi asked, her voice shaky, referring to a condition in labour where a baby’s shoulders have difficulty negotiating the bony pelvis.

Jeremy shook his head. ‘No, Josh wasn’t very clear on the telephone but it would seem the second twin just didn’t descend at all. They had to use forceps, but they couldn’t get a grip. They made a number of attempts...’

Alice winced at the thought, and Jeremy shot her a look.

‘Sorry, you probably don’t need to hear all the details.’

But Alice shook her head fiercely ‘No, tell me. I’m all right.’

‘Well,’ he continued tentatively, ‘it would seem by the time they delivered the second twin, another little boy, he wasn’t breathing and there was no output. He had to be resuscitated. Apparently it was rather lengthy, though they did get him back. Anyway, the upshot is that the baby’s pretty sick. He’s on PICU. He’s bruised and battered from the forceps and he’s got some breathing difficulties.’

‘Poor Josh,’ Alice whispered, almost to herself. ‘And poor Dianne,’ she added. Although she had never met Dianne, her heart went out to this woman and the pain she must be feeling.

‘Obviously Josh will be taking some time off, which is going to mean more work for you, Alice.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, her grey eyes brimming with tears. ‘It kind of puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?’

Jeremy gave a brief nod. He wasn’t going to be drawn into a deep discussion, but she could tell from his eyes that this news had shaken him, too.

It was a rather subdued group that made their way quietly out of the office. Linda was breaking the news rather less tactfully to the anaesthetic registrar.

‘Which is just great. We’ve got the consultant just back from sick leave, the reg on annual leave, the resident on paternity leave and the intern about to go on maternity leave. I’m carrying the lot of them.’

‘That’s what I like about you, Linda,’ Jeremy said dryly, as the anaesthetic reg signalled a desperate look at Linda to stop. ‘Your sense of team spirit.’ And without a backward glance he made his way across to Lachlan Scott, leaving Linda spluttering her excuses to his departing back.

Blinking back tears, Alice made her way down to A and E. How could it all have gone so terribly wrong? She remembered Josh’s excited face just this morning. Oh, she knew things went wrong, that there were no guarantees of a perfect healthy baby, but why did it have to happen? And why to Josh and Dianne? It just wasn’t fair.

A and E was busy, but wasn’t it always?

‘Hi, Alice.’ Fay, the Unit Manager greeted her.

‘Hi, Fay. I didn’t expect to see you. How come you’re on nights?’

‘Don’t ask.’ Fay rolled her eyes. ‘Given the fact that it’s me who does the roster, I guess I’ve only got myself to blame. Anyway, it might be chaotic down here, but from a surgical point of view it’s not too bad. There’s just two for you to clerk in. Linda’s seen them and ordered a few tests, but most can wait for the morning. As soon as you’re done I can shift them up to the ward and free up a couple of trolleys.’

Which was an extremely nice way of saying ‘get on with it’.

So she did, or at least she tried to, but no sooner had she clerked the first patient and was about to start with the second one than the sound of her pager signalled the end of her introduction to the patient.

‘I’m sorry, Mr West, I’ll just have to answer this. I’ll be back to clerk you, hopefully soon.’

‘No worries, love.’

Dialing the number as she flicked through Mr West’s medical history, she was surprised when Fi answered. Normally Fi held off from paging when she knew Alice was coming back. Something must be up.

‘I haven’t forgotten the bloods, Fi. I’ve just got one more patient to clerk then I’ll be up.’

But that wasn’t why Fi was ringing. ‘I’ve already done your bloods, so don’t worry about that. Look, Alice, I’m a bit worried about Lachlan Scott. Would you mind coming and having a look?’