The Surgeon's Engagement Wish. Alison Roberts
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patients, of course, but their uniform lack of co-operation or appreciation had provided a bond of camaraderie amongst the staff members that had only increased under pressure.
And Beth was very firmly one of them. Thanks to that inadvertent episode of venting her tension, having stepped into the path of the converging gang members, Beth had not only been welcomed into the ranks of Ocean View’s emergency department staff, she was currently being used as a lynchpin.
Even though it had only taken a few seconds and could quite easily have been a huge mistake, the fact that Beth had taken control had become a kind of emotional bank in which snippets of humour or stamina were being deposited and could be withdrawn whenever someone needed the lift of a shared smile or a pat on the back.
‘I’m just so not in the mood for this’ had become the catch-phrase of the night and never failed to produce a smile.
Dennis, the local cop, had claimed Beth as one of their own with a hint of pride.
‘Keep your eyes open,’ he had told one of the Nelson police officers about to accompany Beth when she needed an escort to Radiology. ‘You might learn something from our Beth they never thought to teach you at police college.’
How ironic that Beth could feel so at home in a new place so quickly when she was still having serious doubts about the wisdom of having come here at all. She even knew her way around the storeroom now, having gone in there so often to fetch new supplies, and she was there again now, checking the fridge, as requested, to see how much O-negative blood they had on hand. Then she moved towards the shelves supporting boxes of dressings.
A number of extra-large gauze pads had been needed to staunch the arterial flow from the blood vessel severed by a knife wound in the car-park skirmish. And a fresh intubation pack was needed to restock Resus 2. Searching for the location of cuffed endotracheal tubes, Beth’s eye was caught by the sterilised, draped rolls of surgical gear.
The obstetric pack was probably useful, but how often would they have the need for a thoracotomy kit here? Beth had only ever seen someone’s chest opened in an emergency department once, and that had only been done because it had been in a big hospital and they’d had a cardiothoracic surgeon available for back-up.
Luke had had ambitions in cardiothoracic surgery so why on earth was he working here? And how could Beth hope to start a new life when there would be such constant reminders of the past?
If she didn’t stay at Ocean View, though, would she end up being back in some emergency department large enough for the triage staff to wear headsets and microphones? Beth’s sigh was heartfelt. She had really been looking forward to the change of working in a much smaller and potentially friendlier environment. And what on earth was she going to say to the nurse manager?
Sorry. This is a great place to work but I can’t possibly stay because the man I was passionately in love with years ago happens to be working here as well, and I’m not sure if I could handle seeing him every day.
How pathetic was that?
Especially when it had been her that had broken up the relationship.
Beth added some other sizes of gauze dressings to the load she was carrying and wondered how the supplies of lignocaine were holding up. A lot of local anaesthetic was being used in the repair of lacerations. The thought was only fleeting, however, and Beth did not reach for any ampoules. She was too busy thinking about something else.
It hadn’t been her that had broken things up, though, had it? Not really. Ending it had been the last thing Beth had wanted. And having her nose rubbed in the puddle of her lost dreams by living in the same small town as Luke Savage was just unthinkable.
And finding him beside the bed of the stabbing victim in Resus 1 was unexpected enough to add considerably to those doubts about her new job. She had thought Luke would be tied up in Theatre for the rest of the night and that maybe encounters with the surgeon would be the exception rather than the rule. Beth averted her gaze hurriedly to avoid renewed eye contact but the surgeon was listening too intently to Mike to notice the arrival of a nurse carrying supplies.
‘…femoral artery,’ Mike was saying. ‘Class III haemorrhage. Estimated blood loss of around two litres, but we’ve finally got it under control with the pressure bandage.’
‘Blood pressure?’
‘Coming up finally. Ninety-five on fifty now. We’ve run in two litres of saline and I’m just waiting for blood results.’
Beth was behind Luke now. It was quite safe to risk a glance. Not that she needed to confirm the impressions gained earlier, but it was tempting to add to them.
The shaggy black hair was a little longer than it used to be and there was just a hint of silver at his temples. Thirty-six seemed a bit young to be going grey, but Beth had found the odd white hair amongst her own recently and she was two years younger than Luke.
His face was browner and leaner, which made him look more serious somehow. Judging by the arms and the smooth V of chest visible around the baggy scrub suit, the rest of Luke’s body was browner and leaner than it used to be as well.
Beth had to take a rather deep breath all of a sudden. No. Luke Savage had not lost his looks in the last ten years. Quite the reverse, really…damn it!
‘Beth?’
‘Sorry, were you talking to me?’
‘I just wondered how the supplies of O-neg were looking.’
‘There’s two units. Plus some packed cells.’ Beth continued putting the dressings into the drawer of the trolley but it would have been rude not to look up again. Mike was nodding. Luke was looking at the patient.
‘How are you feeling?’ he queried.
The gang member gave a noncommittal grunt.
‘We’re going to have to take you up to Theatre and repair that gash in your leg,’ Luke explained. ‘Have you had anything to eat or drink in the last four hours?’
‘Yeah. I had a feed.’
‘How long ago was that?’
‘Dunno.’
‘And you’ve been drinking?’ The question was superfluous, given the smell of alcohol that hung over most of their patients that night, but Luke managed to sound nonjudgmental.
‘Yeah. Had a few beers, man.’
The gang member actually smiled at Luke. ‘You going to fix up my leg, then?’
Beth was slipping out of the cubicle as Luke turned towards Mike. ‘Looks stable enough to go upstairs. We should be ready in twenty minutes or so, I guess. What about…?’
Beth was now far enough away for Luke’s voice to be covered by the general noise in the department. Or maybe it was because the noise level had suddenly increased out here. A wave of weariness hit as Beth wondered if she needed to call for more police assistance.
But it was a police officer who was doing the calling.
‘Help! We need some help here.’
Beth moved fast towards the reception area. She could see a woman lying on the floor near the seats in the waiting room. Another woman was struggling to get away from the grip the police officer had on her arm.
‘I told you Stella was sick,’ the woman shouted. ‘And you wouldn’t listen, you bastard!’ She kicked at the officer, who winced but held on.
Beth dropped to a crouch, reaching to shake the apparently unconscious woman’s shoulder.
‘Stella? Can you hear me?’ With no response to the shaking, Beth pinched the woman’s ear lobe. ‘Open your eyes.’
The woman groaned and rolled her head from side to side. Beth could see her chest rising and the groans were loud enough to suggest that her airway was clear. She was feeling for a pulse on the woman’s wrist as she heard a deep voice behind her.