Emergency Baby. Alison Roberts
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not hurt but I could have been killed! I want to know who’s responsible.’
‘Are you having any trouble breathing?’ Silly question. Nobody would be snapping at him like an angry barracuda if they were in serious respiratory distress. ‘Do you have any pain anywhere?’
Alex glanced up to see whether he might be needed with a more seriously injured person in one of the other vehicles. No such luck. The male driver of the third vehicle involved was talking to a police officer and his wild gesticulations towards the ‘stop’ sign and then Alex’s position suggested that he wasn’t in any degree of physical distress.
Sam was with the occupants of the car that had been hit side on by the old woman’s car. She was crouched in front of a baby’s seat that had been lifted from the rear of the car. A young woman stood beside her, looking very anxious. Even from this distance Alex could see that the baby was smiling in response to whatever noises or exaggerated facial expressions Sam was making and her posture made it quite obvious that everything was under control there.
And there it was again.
That disturbing little niggle.
A curious disappointment, perhaps, that this job wasn’t going to provide the kind of challenge that his partner thrived on. One that would drive any current dissatisfaction with her career into the background.
Where it belonged.
‘I’m bleeding! Oh, my goodness! I’ve ruined a brand-new pair of stockings.’ The dismay in his patient’s voice was wildly misplaced. The thin leg Alex could see now protruding from the car had had a sizeable flap of skin peeled back from the shin. He snapped open the catches on his kit and reached for a gauze pad and a saline sachet to dampen it.
‘I’m going to cover this to stop the bleeding, ma’am. This might sting a little bit.’
‘It’s not going to fix my stocking, is it? Someone’s going to have to replace these as well. They’re not cheap, you know. I only buy the best. None of that nasty supermarket rubbish!’
‘Of course,’ Alex murmured. ‘Can you tell me your name, please, ma’am?’
‘What for?’
‘I’m going to need to fill in some paperwork.’
‘Oh…all right. It’s Esme. Esme Dickson.’
Alex wound the bandage around Esme’s leg to hold the dressing in place and apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. ‘And how old are you, Mrs Dickson?’
‘None of your business. And it’s “Miss”, not “Mrs”.’
It was a relief to see a police officer approaching. Alex should be able to get the information he needed with a lot less angst after Miss Dickson had had her interview with more authoritative personnel.
‘Is she all right?’
‘Relatively minor skin tear.’Alex had cleaned the wound and eased the skin back into place before bandaging. ‘I don’t think she needs transport to hospital unless it’s what she wants.’
‘Of course it isn’t,’ Esme declared. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me that a good cup of tea won’t fix.’
‘A visit to her GP might be in order to ensure that it doesn’t get infected.’
‘And “she’s” the cat’s mother.’ Esme wagged a finger at Alex. ‘I do have a name, as you well know, young man.’
‘This is Miss Dickson,’ Alex told the police officer, keeping the twitch of his lips firmly under control. ‘I’ll just do a quick check of her blood pressure and so on and then she’s all yours.’
The expression on the officer’s face did not suggest delight. ‘Do you have your driver’s licence available, Miss Dickson?’
‘I hope you’re not suggesting I don’t have one.’
‘Not at all, but it would be helpful if you could show it to me.’
‘It’s right here, in my handbag. Oh…Where is my handbag? It was just here, on the seat beside me.’
‘Is this it?’Alex fished a cavernous bright green bag with thick handles and an ornate clasp from behind the front seat.
‘Yes. Thank you. Now I just need to find my glasses.’
The police officer almost sighed aloud. ‘Do you require your glasses for driving, Miss Dickson?’
‘Of course I do. And I was wearing them. They must have fallen off.’
Alex could see a pair of spectacles, minus their case, inside the now open green bag as he wound the blood-pressure cuff around his patient’s upper arm. ‘Those wouldn’t be the ones you’re looking for, by any chance?’
Miss Dickson looked disconcerted. ‘Goodness! How on earth did they manage to fall in there?’
Alex let down the cuff. ‘Blood pressure’s fine,’ he announced. ‘Heart rate and rhythm are also normal. I’ll come back in a minute to get the details I need for the paperwork.’ He straightened and gave the police officer a sympathetic lift of his eyebrows. ‘I’d better go and see whether my partner needs any assistance.’
She didn’t, of course. By the time Alex approached the knot of people around the back of the ambulance, Sam had lifted the infant from its car seat, presumably having given it a thorough check, and it was bouncing in her arms, looking delighted at the amount of attention being bestowed on it.
There was something just not quite right any more about seeing Samantha Moore with a baby in her arms. Maybe that was what had started making things seem different.
That weird feeling he’d experienced last week, seeing Sam staring at the baby she’d just delivered. Holding it as though…as though it was her own child.
Alex had joked about it at the time, warning Sam not to get any ‘ideas’, but he was quite sure now that he’d discovered the cause of what had been bothering him for the last few days. That Sam’s biological clock had inexplicably started ticking and she was going to go off and have babies and leave him to try and find another partner that he could work with as well as he worked with Sam.
As if!
On both counts. Alex smiled at Sam. A relieved smile. He knew perfectly well how Sam felt about marriage. He’d even met her overpoweringly successful father and the brother that had gone into the fire service rather than trying to follow in his father’s footsteps and join the police force, as her other two brothers had.
Alex could understand why Sam was so fiercely protective of her independence. That was why she was so adamant about never sharing her life with any other male on a permanent basis. And a child would sap that independence even more. Of course he could understand. He felt the same way himself, cherishing his own independence enough to make even a relationship of a few months’ duration seem long term. The idea of permanence or, worse, dependants, was a fate worse than death.
The idea of finding someone else he could work with so well was equally ludicrous. It might have taken a while to get used to in the beginning but Sam was special. As good as any bloke to work with. Better, really, because there were times that Alex’s extra physical strength was needed and he could provide it and feel great. There was none of that subtle competitive stuff you’d get working with another male. And then there were times when a feminine touch was needed. The sympathy angle or an examination on a female patient that everybody was more comfortable having another female providing. Sam could do that and feel great.
Neither of them ever held such advantages over the other. They complemented each other perfectly. They were the best team.
Alex took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He could put that disturbing niggle to rest now. It was something that he had got entirely out of proportion because Sam had been so tired that night and had made those comments