CHAPTER THREE

      IT WAS almost nine p.m. by the time Archie finally made it home and he was exhausted. Working fifteen hours straight was no joke, especially when it had been after midnight before he’d gone to bed the previous night. He went straight to the kitchen and raided the fridge. All he could find was a lump of slightly mouldy cheese and a tomato but it would have to do. He definitely wasn’t heading out again to find himself something else to eat.

      He made cheese on toast, slicing the tomato on the top so that he could ease his conscience by telling himself he was eating at least one of the requisite portions of fruit and veg he was supposed to consume each day. He ate in the kitchen because the dining-room table was piled up with cartons. He had been planning to do some more packing that night, but after he had finished his supper, he couldn’t face it.

      He made himself a cup of instant coffee and retired to the sitting room, glad that at least he had something to sit on. He had packed away all the ornaments and pictures so the room looked very bare but at least he had a seat. Slumping down on the sofa, he sipped his coffee, grimacing at the powdery aftertaste it left on his tongue. Although he was quite an accomplished cook, he never bothered cooking nowadays. There was no one to share a meal with and that took all the pleasure out of it.

      The thought immediately reminded him of Stephanie and he sighed. He tried not to think about her too often but it wasn’t easy. Before the accident his future had been all mapped out, and mapped out the way he had always dreamed it would be, too. He’d had a job he’d loved and a woman he’d wanted to spend his life with. He had been perfectly happy with his lot until his world had fallen apart.

      Archie stood up, too restless to sit there while the thoughts ran like rats around his brain. Going over to the bureau, he opened a drawer and took out an old chocolate box. He had been meaning to sort through it for weeks but each time he’d put off doing it because it had been too painful. However, he was already upset so he may as well get it over with now.

      He sat down and emptied the contents of the box onto the cushion beside him. There were dozens of photographs along with other mementoes of his life with Stephanie. He picked up a programme for the ballet, smiling ruefully as he recalled how angry Stephanie had been when he had fallen asleep during the performance. Next came a single ticket for the opera—he’d had to miss the show when he’d been called into work. Then there was an out-of-date train ticket for an aborted trip by Eurostar to Paris—Stephanie had gone by herself in the end as he’d been too busy.

      Archie frowned as he continued to delve through the remnants of their life together. There’d been an awful lot of occasions when he had let Stephanie down. Work had always been his number one priority and everything else had come a poor second, including Stephanie. Was it any wonder, really, that she’d sought solace with someone else?

      He picked up another photograph, feeling pain tug at his heart as he studied the smiling faces of the people in it. It had been taken a couple of years ago when he, Stephanie and his brother, Duncan, had spent some time together at the family estate in Scotland. Stephanie had stayed on when he’d had to return to London and he’d thought nothing of it at the time.

      Now he couldn’t help wondering if that had been when his fiancée had fallen in love with his brother, after he had abandoned her for the umpteenth time. It was one more reason to feel guilty, another reason why he needed to make amends for what he had done. If he had paid more attention to what had been going on around him, Stephanie and Duncan might not have died.

      It was gone four in the morning when Charlie Maguire suffered a second heart attack. Heather grabbed the crash trolley and raced to his bed. Marion had already started CPR and she looked up when Heather appeared.

      ‘Plug that in then phone the switchboard and ask them to page Mike. We need him back here, stat!’

      ‘Will do.’

      Heather flew to the phone and dialled the switchboard. ‘It’s Heather from Paeds,’ she said as soon as the operator answered. ‘Can you page Dr Mike Bridges, please? We need him here urgently.’

      She hung up after the operator confirmed her request. Some of the other children had woken up now, disturbed by all the commotion, so she made her way around the ward, doing her best to settle them down. Marion and the other nurse on duty that night, Abby Connor, were working on Charlie, but it was a relief when the registrar arrived. He headed straight to the boy’s bed, looking very grim when Marion explained what had happened.

      ‘We’ll shock him and see if that works. I’ll need some adrenaline—can someone sort that out for me, please?’

      ‘I’ll do it,’ Heather offered immediately.

      Mike told her the dosage while Marion gave her the keys to the drugs trolley. When she got back, the team had defibrillated Charlie’s heart once and were about to perform the procedure a second time because there was still no output. Heather found herself willing the child to respond as the paddles were once again placed on his chest.

      ‘Clear!’ Mike rapped out.

      Everyone held their breath as another charge of electricity shot through the boy’s body, but there was still nothing on the monitor apart from a flat green line. Mike turned to her and she could see the worry on his face as he took the drugs from her.

      ‘Get onto Archie. Tell him what’s happened and that it’s not looking good.’

      ‘Of course,’ Heather agreed, hiding her surprise because in her experience it wasn’t usual to phone a consultant during the night.

      She hurried to the phone again and found Archie’s number listed with all the others. She keyed it in and waited anxiously for him to pick up. If anyone could help Charlie, it was Archie—he would know what to do in any crisis.

      She bit her lip because she really shouldn’t be thinking along such lines. It would be only too easy to see Archie as her saviour as well and that wouldn’t do. She cleared her throat when a sleepy male voice mumbled hello.

      ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Mr Carew, but Mike Bridges asked me to phone you. Charlie Maguire has had a second myocardial infarction and we’re having problems stabilising him.’

      ‘How long ago did it happen?’ he demanded, instantly alert. Heather had a quick mental flash of him dragging himself up out of bed and just as quickly dismissed it. She couldn’t afford to get sidetracked.

      ‘Roughly five minutes.’

      ‘Right. I’m on my way. Tell Dr Bridges to continue CPR until I get there.’

      ‘Yes, sir,’ Heather replied, responding automatically to the authority in his voice.

      ‘Thank you, Heather,’ he said quietly before the line went dead.

      Heather’s hand was trembling as she gently replaced the receiver on its rest. Although she hadn’t introduced herself, Archie must have recognised her voice and it gave her a funny feeling inside to realise that. As she went to relay his message to the others, Heather found herself smiling before she realised how stupid she was being to set any store by it. Archie was only going to feature in her life for as long she worked here. He certainly wasn’t going to play any part in her future.

      ‘Is everyone agreed, then?’

      Archie looked at the group assembled around Charlie Maguire’s bed and saw the same expressions on their faces that