Brought Together by Baby (2 page)

‘Fine.’

The response was muffled and the girl’s head remained bowed. Clearly she was anything
but
fine. Making a mental note to keep an eye on her, Gus moved to the nearby whiteboard. As he wiped off the details of his last patient he listened in to Robert’s side of the conversation, and it was immediately obvious that Carolyn had been right: something major
was
taking place.

‘I trust your judgement, Frazer,’ the consultant said, identifying the caller as Frazer McInnes, one of the flight doctors on Strathlochan’s air ambulance. ‘Kathleen is calling in the relevant specialists and alerting the operating theatre
now. She may have experienced the first signs of labour before the crash…No, I agree with you. Our primary concern has to be for the baby and making every effort possible to save it. If she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt she might have sustained such fatal injuries hitting the steering wheel and the windscreen. How’s the foetal heartbeat? I’m not surprised the baby’s showing signs of distress. Do what you can to control the haemorrhaging. We’re on standby ready for you. We’ll bypass Resus and go straight to Theatre.’

Gus suppressed the wave of nausea that ripped through him as the horrific implications of the accident sank in. How dreadful for the casualties—the pregnant woman’s family in particular—but his sympathies also went out to the medical personnel. Any emergency that involved a baby was always difficult but, like himself, Frazer was also anticipating becoming a father soon, so this would be painfully close to home right now.

He certainly didn’t know how
he
would cope were he in Frazer’s place, confronting such a critical, challenging and emotional situation, Gus admitted, a shiver running down his spine. This was one occasion when he was glad to be in a well-equipped A&E department with back-up at hand rather than dealing with the pre-hospital conditions out at the roadside, making the best of what was available and taking the responsibility of making split-second life-and-death decisions.

Robert hung up the phone and turned to address the assorted personnel who were gathering around him and who seemed, Gus thought, more tense and edgy than usual. Why were they acting so strangely? Even the department’s joker, registrar Dr Will Brown, renowned for his ready smile and sense of humour, was uncharacteristically sombre and subdued. Puzzled, Gus put his colleagues’ changed behaviour down to the stress of the incredibly busy and pressured day.

‘ETA four minutes. I need extra fluids made ready—Frazer will be running low,’ Robert announced, and a senior nurse hurried off to do his bidding. ‘Kathleen, ask Security to help maintain a clear route to Theatre. And alert the blood bank. A transfusion is more than likely.’

‘I’m on it.’

Hoping to make himself useful, Gus stepped closer, but when he caught his boss’s gaze he was unable to read the expression that lingered there before the older man turned away to issue further instructions.

‘This is a unique and horrible situation, so focus on your tasks and not on the wider implications,’ he advised cryptically, puzzling Gus further. ‘You know what to do. Let’s get on. Someone hold the lift so there’s no delay when we need it. Kathleen…?’

‘Security are on the way. I’ve notified the blood bank. And I’ve fast-bleeped the emergency obstetrician and neurologist. They’re going straight to Theatre to scrub up,’ the middle-aged woman announced, the waver in her lilting Irish voice and her unusual pallor increasing Gus’s concern and the insidious feeling that something was very wrong here.

Grim-faced, Robert nodded. ‘And the neonatal consultant?’

‘He’s dealing with a problem baby in Paediatric Intensive Care next door,’ Kathleen explained, referring to the maternity wing adjacent to the main hospital. ‘But he’ll be across directly.’

Unsettled, Gus spoke up. ‘Is there anything I can do to help, Robert?’

‘No!’

Gus was taken aback by the shrill and sudden denial—even more so because it came from Laura. A flash of anguish in
her own eyes, Kathleen hurried across to the girl, who was clearly distressed.

‘Take a break in the staffroom to get yourself together,’ the older woman advised, kind but firm. As Laura pushed back her chair and hurried away, Kathleen exchanged another pained glance with Robert. ‘I’ll talk to her when I’ve finished here.’

‘Of course,’ the consultant agreed.

Before Gus could query Laura’s strange reaction, Robert laid a hand on his shoulder and drew him aside.

‘Gus…’ He paused and shook his head, concern and compassion evident in his eyes before his gaze strayed towards the entrance. The doors were open, allowing them to hear the first sounds of the approaching air ambulance. ‘Please wait for me in my office,’ Robert continued. The distinctive noise of the helicopter’s rotor blades increased as the aircraft descended onto the landing pad. Gus was aware of Robert’s hand tightening briefly on his shoulder before contact was withdrawn. ‘I’m sorry, Gus. I’ll come and talk with you in a few minutes.’

The consultant was rushing through the department before Gus could ask what he was sorry for and what he wanted to talk about. As he made his way to the office his unease increased in unison with the strange buzz in the department. If Robert wasn’t going to reassign him, he needed to get back to Minors to see his share of the patients requiring attention. Either way, he didn’t want to be cooling his heels here for long.

His thoughts took an abrupt change of direction when he saw Frazer McInnes enter the department at a run, his flight paramedic Rick Duncan at the other end of the stretcher. Both men were covered in blood and carrying IV lines in one hand while guiding the trolley with the other. And both
looked drained, clearly shaken by the traumatic events they had witnessed at the accident site and on the flight to the hospital.

‘Clear the way!’ Frazer called, his voice rough and impatient.

As Frazer, Rick, Robert and their entourage rushed down the corridor to the lifts, Gus offered up a plea for the baby’s survival. Moved by the tragedy, he thrust his hands into the pockets of his scrub trousers and paced the small office, too on edge to wait patiently. He was on the point of returning to Reception to question Kathleen when his boss returned.

An inexplicable shiver of dread rippled through him at the uncharacteristically bleak expression in Robert’s eyes as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

‘Sit, please,’ he invited.

Gus did as he was asked, but instead of moving round the desk to take his own chair Robert stood beside him, once more resting a hand on his shoulder. Rather than reassuring him, the gesture increased Gus’s unease. A dark premonition chilled his blood.

‘What is it, Robert? Have I done something wrong?’ he asked, unable to bear the electric silence another moment.

‘No. No, of course not,’ his boss responded, sounding weary and resigned. ‘Gus, there’s something I must tell you…’

* * *

Holly Tait finished the scheduled observations and wrote the information on her six-year-old patient’s chart. The little girl had returned from Theatre less than twenty-four hours ago following an operation to remove her infected appendix. Understandably, she was still very sore. Holly checked the chart to see when the next medications were due, her disobedient gaze straying to the signature of the A&E doctor responsible for the girl’s admission.

Gus Buchanan. Pain lanced through her, but Holly knew that hers, unlike her patient’s, was a pain no medicine could cure. She’d transferred from the A&E department to the Children’s Ward in January, hoping that removing herself from Gus’s presence would be the first step in the healing process. It hadn’t worked. Now it was June, and she still couldn’t get him, what he’d done, or the barrage of conflicting emotions out of her mind. Even reading his name or seeing his handwriting twisted the knife that pierced her heart. And it hurt as much as ever.

Sensing she was being watched, Holly looked up and saw Sister Erica Sharpe’s formidable form standing in the ward’s office doorway. Erica beckoned her and Holly nodded her understanding. She hung the chart on the bed and ensured her young charge was comfortable before walking towards the office, wondering if they had a new admission to contend with. It had been a busy day, with several new patients coming in, and they had little space left for any more beds.

As Holly approached Erica remained in the doorway, hands planted on ample hips. She could be anywhere between fifty and seventy years of age—no one knew, and asking was out of the question. Erica had been part of the hospital since its transformation from a small cottage hospital to the well-equipped regional infirmary it had become, growing over the years in proportion with the way Strathlochan itself had expanded.

Erica had a fearsome reputation—Sharpe by name and, on occasion, sharp by nature—and even the most senior consultants had been known to quiver in their boots when on the receiving end of her displeasure. Student nurses approached her ward with awe and trepidation. Holly smiled, remembering her own scary first meeting with Erica. Several years on and she had huge respect for the woman who gave everything
for her patients and under whose impressive bosom beat a heart of gold.

‘Come in, Holly,’ she invited, her sombre expression and the look in her eyes making Holly feel uneasy.

Inside the office Holly faltered, surprised to see Gina Adriani, one of her closest friends, sitting there. A fellow staff nurse, Gina had worked with her in A&E before leaving the previous summer to take up a position at Strathlochan’s new multi-purpose drop-in centre. Just married and blissfully happy, today Gina looked uncharacteristically pensive and pale.

‘Hello! What are you doing here? Have you come to do some real work?’ Holly joked, trying to shake off a sudden sense of foreboding.

‘No, not that.’

Gina didn’t return her smile and Holly’s apprehension increased. ‘What is it?’

‘Sit down, my dear,’ Erica advised, nudging a free chair closer to Gina’s.

‘What’s going on?’ Holly asked again, glad for the seat as her legs now felt too wobbly to hold her.

Erica never called anyone ‘my dear’ unless there was bad news. Holly’s imagination ran wild and fear took hold. Had something happened to Seb, Gina’s husband? Or to their mutual friends Rico and Ruth?

Before she could voice her anxiety Gina took her hand. ‘I wish there was some better way to tell you.’

‘Tell me what?’ Holly’s chest tightened as alarm increased. ‘Gina?’

Her friend sucked in a breath. ‘There’s been a terrible road accident. Holly, it’s Julia. She’s been fatally injured.’

Holly reeled, suddenly feeling as if she was dreaming. She groped for words, which at first would not come.

‘Wh-What about the baby?’ She somehow forced the question past the fear and shock that clogged her throat. ‘It’s not due until next month.’

‘Julia was brought in by air ambulance and is in Theatre now. A specialist team is doing everything possible to save the baby,’ Gina explained, but the words failed to quell the terror building within.

‘Oh, my God.’

Holly sagged in the chair, her fingers tightening reflexively on Gina’s as Erica rested an arm around her shoulders. Both women were talking, but Holly didn’t hear a word: her heart was racing, every manic beat reverberating in her ears. As the horrific news sank in a range of mixed emotions and unanswered questions chased themselves through her head, and a cry of distress welled within her as she zeroed in on one thing.

One
person
.

Whatever else had happened, however much he’d hurt her, and however badly things had gone wrong, there was only one person she could think of now and only one place she needed to be.

‘Gus,’ she whispered, her voice raw with the pain searing through her. ‘I have to go to him.’

CHAPTER TWO

H
OLLY
didn’t care whether hospital rules discouraged running in the corridors. The only thought pounding in her mind as she raced out of the Children’s Ward was to reach Gus as soon as possible.

‘I don’t know how the accident happened,’ Gina said, keeping pace beside her. ‘We had a phone call asking us to come in and give what support we could. I came to you…Seb went to find Gus.’

‘Thank you.’

However conflicted her feelings, however strong the sense of betrayal, and however angry, hurt and upset she was with him, she couldn’t bear the thought of Gus’s grief. It was a relief to know Seb was with him. On the darkest and worst of days, when part of her had wanted to lash out at Gus, to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her, she would never have wished something this awful to happen.

Rather than wait for the lift Holly pushed open the door to the staff stairway, footsteps echoing as they hurried down two flights to the floor below. As they emerged into the wide corridor and approached the double doors of the operating suite their pace slowed and Gina rested a hand at the small of her back.

‘Holly, I’m worried about you.’

‘Worry about Gus and the baby,’ she requested, her voice shaky. ‘Not me.’

‘I know how you feel, hon, but…’

As the anxious words trailed off Holly acknowledged that, although her best friend had some understanding of the situation, no one—not even Gina—knew the true extent of her feelings, because she’d worked so hard for so many months to hide them. She had presented an outward image of calm serenity to the world…one that belied the terrible pain, loss and the sense of betrayal that ripped her to shreds.

Before Gina could utter another word Holly opened the door and headed towards the waiting area. There were several people inside—Seb, a theatre representative, Frazer and Rick from the air ambulance, a policeman…and Gus. It was to the latter that her gaze was instinctively drawn.

Dressed in A&E scrubs, he stood apart from the others and a little ache settled inside her at how symbolic that was, how characteristic of the man she had come to know. A man who had been so alone and who found it so hard to let anyone get close to him. She’d breached that reserve and for a brief while had found the man within. And had fallen in love with him. Before everything had gone so spectacularly wrong.