One Night to Forever Family

by Meredith Webber

  The young girl in the bed opened her eyes and smiled wanly at them.

  ‘We’ve no idea what brought it on, have we, Abs?’ he added, coming closer to take Abby’s hand, ‘but we do know she’s on the mend.’

  He motioned Sam forward.

  ‘This is Sam, Abby, a new doctor and a very good one. We’ll let her have a go at your records and see what she can sniff out, eh?’

  Abby smiled again, then her eyes closed and she drifted back to sleep.

  Andy handed the file he’d picked up from the back of the door to Sam, but kept his eyes on the sleeping girl.

  Abby was thirteen, the same age Sarah had been when she’d died—Sarah, his beautiful, loving, always happy sister...

  * * *

  Sam flipped through the pages, noting the myriad tests that had been carried out on the sick child, realising that nothing had shown up as a possible trigger.

  ‘Had she had a sore throat—could it have been as simple as a cold virus that triggered the swelling in her brain?’ she asked as she slotted the file back in its place on the door, knowing she could read up on it on the computer later.

  ‘Or some autoimmune thing, we’ve been thinking,’ Andy replied, obviously still puzzled over the case. ‘In fact, we did the regular tests, then stopped worrying what might have caused it and simply treated her. She’s a little more alert every day, so I’m hopeful, given time and rest, she’ll make a full recovery.’

  ‘So much of what we do in PICU is rest and monitoring, isn’t it?’ Sam said, hoping she sounded rational and professional, although this being with Andy, trying to pretend he was nothing more than a colleague, was tying her stomach in knots.

  And then he grinned at her.

  ‘Ah, but the monitoring needs to be constant,’ he said, while her head whirled. But Andy had always had that teasing grin so why...?

  She dragged her mind back into gear and caught up with the conversation.

  ‘Which is why the children are here and not down in the normal kids’ wards. Come and meet Ryan—he’s one of our frequent flyers.’

  Sam laughed at the familiar phrase, reminding herself that this was work.

  ‘Premmie?’ she asked, and Andy nodded.

  ‘He’s two years old now, but still susceptible to any damn virus floating past in the air.’

  ‘Usually RSV?’ Sam asked, aware that respiratory syncytial virus, with its respiratory and breathing difficulties, was common in premature children.

  Andy nodded.

  ‘It’s bronchiolitis this time. All the small passages in his lungs are inflamed, but six months ago it was pneumonia.’

  ‘Poor kid,’ Sam said, entering the room and peering down at the small form in the small cot. The little boy was probably only two thirds the size of a normal two-year-old, though what was really ‘normal’ with any child?

  But she was intrigued by the small mask taped to the little boy’s face and the tube from it leading back to a tiny CPAP machine.

  ‘Non-invasive positive air pressure?’ she said, intrigued why the usual nasal prongs weren’t delivering oxygen to the little body.

  ‘We’re finding, particularly with smaller children, that it’s easier to get them off the oxygen when we use the continuous pressure air pump. There’ve been various small trials on it, and no definitive data as yet, but it works for young Ryan here, so we stick to it.’

  Aware there was no treatment apart from oxygen to help their battling lungs, fluid to keep them hydrated, and paracetamol to keep the child’s temperature down, Sam followed Andy out the door. Studying him, thinking...

  He would have had the final decision on her employment, yet he’d employed her anyway—even though he obviously blamed her for Nick’s death.

  She shut the box in her mind that held memories of that day. This was now a new life, and Andy would be, inevitably, a big part of it so sometime soon that box had to be opened and some of the contents discussed. Their last encounter especially needed some explanations and she knew they couldn’t go forward with it in both their minds, blocking out any proper conversation or even, possibly, friendship.

  But in the meantime, Andy was right here—her boss—and she had to prove herself to him.

  He was tall—taller than Nick had been—and he carried himself well, except for stooping slightly to hide his height as he was wont to do. He was good looking, too, with his dark hair and blue eyes.

  But not married—well, apparently not—there was no ring on his finger.

  And why would you be checking that out? she asked herself. He doesn’t even like you.

  ‘We talked about monitoring earlier.’

  The words brought her mind back to the job. It was probably a bit of jet lag that had it wandering so far and so fast.

  ‘And though it seems such a simple thing, it’s paramount. It means we can see when they’re about to crash and need resuscitation, or stop breathing and need urgent intubation, or have a seizure and need protective care and medication to ease it.’

  He frowned slightly, turning to look directly at her, before adding, ‘Though why I’m justifying our work to someone who is as experienced as you I don’t know!’

  Blue eyes looked steadily into her wishy-washy green ones, and about a million synapses in her brain fired to chaotic life.

  Breathe!

  ‘You forget I’ve just come from a hospital that’s barely more than a shed with some beds, and the most sophisticated medical machinery was an X-ray machine that we couldn’t work because of a lack of electricity.’

  Andy stared at her. ‘Seriously?’ he said, and she smiled, relaxing as she talked about the place she’d grown to love. A place where her mother, a nurse, had worked for so many years it had become her home.

  ‘Well, we did have a generator and when we had fuel for it, and it actually decided to work for a while, we could get the occasional X-ray. Whoever had donated the X-ray machine to the clinic had included plenty of film, so from time to time it was very handy. Mind you, I wasn’t there for long enough to get totally frustrated by the lack of technology, but it was very educational in its own way!’

  Andy shook his head, and she followed him into the next room, where a very pale girl of about twelve, was lying listlessly on a bed. Her eyes were open but whether she was seeing them, Sam didn’t know.

  ‘Kayla has recently been diagnosed with Type One diabetes, but it took a while for her GP to get to the root of her problem.’

  ‘Or for her to agree to even see a doctor,’ Sam suggested, and saw the girl give a wan smile. ‘A lot of girls going into the teenage years complain of being tired, of having headaches, or they’re irritable. So it isn’t always picked up on at home and they don’t always get to a doctor until something drastic happens.’

  ‘You’re right, of course,’ Andy agreed, and Sam was just deciding that this would be okay—this working with Andy—but then he smiled, and it was such an open, warm, typical Andy smile that something inside her began to crack.

  Could it be the film of the ice she’d sheathed around her heart when Nick had died?

  CHAPTER TWO

  IT TOOK ANOTHER hour to visit the other patients in the ICU, including the little girl with measles who’d now been installed in an isolation room.

  ‘Has someone been in touch with the family?’ Andy asked the nurse who was checking the drip stand.

  ‘The ED phoned the number the father left, but couldn’t get him, but we’ll keep trying. He could already have realised the implications and be taking his other children for vaccination.’

  Sam nodded, hoping this was true, but Andy wasn’t appeased.

  ‘Come on,’ he said brusquely. ‘We’re done here. I’ll make sure one of the nurses gets on to someone in that family and tells them they need vaccinations urgently. It’s probably best I don’t talk to them when I’m
tired and—’

  ‘Angry?’ Sam offered, and he shrugged.

  ‘More frustrated,’ he said slowly. ‘You see a child so sick from a preventable disease and wonder what people are thinking of. Anyway, it’s time I left. I’ll take you back to my place, and you can do some shopping.’

  Very frustrated, Sam realised, so she kept her mouth shut until he’d led her out of the hospital and into the car park, opening the door of a dark saloon.

  The flashback hit her without warning—Nick’s voice, loud and insistent, the car swerving. Then nothing...

  She knew she couldn’t get into the car; couldn’t get in with an angry—or frustrated—driver.

  Not again.

  Not after the last time.

  ‘I have to go back and get my things,’ she said. ‘My backpack. But you go. I think I’ll stick to my initial plan and get a hotel for a couple of weeks until I find somewhere more permanent.’

  The tightness she’d read on his face vanished like mist burnt off by the sun, and now anxiety drew its lines in his skin.

  ‘Hey, it’s okay,’ he said. ‘I just get a bit upset when I butt up against parents like that.’

  ‘Like what?’ she retorted. ‘A couple where both parents choose to work? Where neither wants to set aside the expensive training they’ve had, largely through public funds, to be with their children twenty-four seven? You don’t know those people, Andy. For all you know, he could be representing a young girl in a rape case and can’t afford not to be in court this morning, and the mother could be helping refugees in an offshore detention centre.’

  He stared at her.

  ‘You’re saying they could both have legitimate reasons not to be with their child?’

  ‘I am,’ she said. ‘I know there are parents who aren’t totally involved in their children’s lives, but we can’t judge all working parents. Half the doctors at this hospital are working parents. Is a surgeon going to cancel a possibly life-saving op to sit with his sick child?’

  Andy said nothing but she could see the idea taking root in his mind.

  ‘So he’d focus on what had to be done—put his personal anxiety aside for as long as it took to get the best result for his patient—and then go back to the child.’

  ‘Of course he would. Ninety percent of parents would.’

  Andy studied her for what seemed like for ever.

  ‘You’ve given this a lot of thought,’ he finally said, and saw a deep sadness cloud her pale eyes.

  But all she said was, ‘Indeed I have,’ before she turned and walked back towards the hospital.

  He went after her, catching up in a few strides.

  ‘Hey!’

  He turned her so she faced towards him and used one finger to tilt her head so he could look into those tantalising eyes.

  ‘Why don’t you forget about a hotel for a while? Come and stay with me while you find somewhere permanent,’ he said, hoping it didn’t sound like a plea. ‘It’ll be fun—like the old days, although we probably won’t see that much of each other because our shifts won’t coincide, but...’

  He paused and tried a smile.

  ‘But when we are together, you can teach me not to judge, and remind me that every picture could be telling many different stories.’

  She stood there, lips pursed—kissable, but he definitely wasn’t going there—and he remembered she’d always done that when she was thinking.

  When they’d all been friends.

  ‘Okay!’ she said, ‘but I still need to get my backpack.’

  He followed her back to the building, surprised when she led him into the ED staff lounge.

  ‘I needed a shower before I ventured anywhere further into the hospital,’ she explained, digging a key out of the pocket of her scrubs and leading him to a locker.

  He watched as she unlocked the locker and reached in to haul out what seemed like an enormous backpack.

  Sliding it out of her hands, he slung it over his shoulder, bending at the knees in faked collapse.

  ‘It’s not that heavy!’ she told him, although he did win a smile.

  Silly really, but the smile made the weight lighter, and he led the way back towards his car, feeling alive and alert, despite the early start. And if a tiny whisper suggested they should have parted when she’d suggested it earlier, he could easily ignore it.

  It would be good to have Sam back in his life.

  It would!

  * * *

  ‘It’s not far from the hospital—my place,’ Andy said, as Sam settled herself into the comfortable passenger seat in his car, ‘but at night I like to use the car, the streets are dark and you never know who’s hanging around.’

  It was such an ordinary conversation Sam should have felt relaxed, but instead she was wondering why she hadn’t insisted on going to a hotel. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy Andy’s company—she always had, although she’d seen a lot less of him after she’d married Nick. He and Andy would meet up for a drink when she was on a late shift, or Andy would be busy when she and Nick were having friends over.

  Then, so upset by what had been just his unthinking reaction to the accident, she’d refused to see him again while she’d been in hospital. But she’d been hurt by his angry words—hurt, if she was honest, because they had been too close to the truth.

  But working with him meant they’d be colleagues, and colleagues were often friends, and she and Andy—

  For heaven’s sake, stop analysing everything. Whatever happened to your philosophy of taking each day as it came. That’s what got you through the accident, and that’s what you have to do here.

  She glanced towards him, pleased he was concentrating on the road so she could study him for a moment. And wonder if perhaps she’d always felt a slight attraction towards him?

  She shook her head.

  ‘Bad thoughts?’ he asked. He’d obviously seen her frown and head shake.

  ‘No, just wondering where we are and how long it will take me to find my way around a new place.’

  ‘You’d never been here before? Never had a holiday on the coast?’

  She shook her head again.

  ‘Mum worked full time—and I mean full time—two jobs usually, just to keep us fed and watered. Any extra money was put aside for the university education she insisted I had to have. Holidays never entered the picture.’

  ‘Well, I’ll just have to educate you. Port Fortesque was first settled way back, much of the original building done by convicts,’ he explained. ‘It was a stopping-off place for boats going north from Sydney to the new penal colony in Moreton Bay, which is now in Queensland but back then was part of New South Wales. There are still some lovely old buildings here, especially the lighthouse. We should go there for dinner tonight to welcome you back to Oz. They’ve turned the lighthouse-keeper’s cottage into a fine restaurant.’

  She’d let him talk, let his voice wash over her, although—

  ‘I don’t need fine dining,’ she told him, ‘and I definitely don’t want you running around after me. You’ll want a relaxing, early night after your four a.m. start, and I’ve got shopping to do and clothes to sort and wash.’

  She paused, aware that what she was about to say was for her own protection. Andy was too darned attractive for his own good, and the less she saw of him outside working hours the better.

  ‘I also need to get onto a real-estate website. There might even be a self-contained B&B I can use as a base until I get to know the area. In London, there were dozens of them set up close to hospitals.’

  He glanced her way.

  ‘Whatever suits you best,’ he said, his voice noticeably cooler. Surely he hadn’t been looking forward to her staying with him. Wouldn’t that put a crimp in his social life, for a start?

  Although what did she know about his social life? Except tha
t he’d be sure to have one. The Andy who’d been half of Nick and Andy had always had a beautiful woman in his life.

  An image of Andy walking into his flat with a beautiful woman, chatting politely for a while before disappearing into his bedroom, had Sam feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Which was a totally ridiculous reaction as Andy’s social life was none of her business, whether she was sharing his apartment or not.

  Nothing to do with her.

  At all!

  He’d been—probably still would have been—her husband’s best friend. She’d known him as long as she’d known Nick—which, much as she’d loved him, had, at times, seemed a very long three years—but Andy had always been there whenever he’d been needed, with a smile on his face and a ready laugh on his lips.

  Except after the accident...

  He’d been pointing out landmarks as they passed, the river with its old wharf now only used to tie up visiting pleasure yachts, the surf beaches between rocky headlands to the south of the river mouth.

  The sun sparkled on the ocean, making magic in the air, so when Andy turned into the drive that led to the basement of newish block of apartments, pressed a fob for the metal doors to rise, she began to regret accepting his offer.

  It might be hard to leave the views this place must have, the rocky headlands curling protectively around the surf beach, a stretch of golden sand, the broken waves rushing up the beach as the tide came in.

  ‘I thought you said it wasn’t far from the hospital,’ she said, as Andy expertly parked his car and came round to open her door.

  She beat him to it, but only just, so she stood to find him so close they could have kissed.

  If they hadn’t been separated by the car door.

  If this had been that kind of relationship.

  And just where had those thoughts come from?

  She might have felt a sudden awareness of Andy as a man, but she was probably the last woman in the world he’d consider getting involved with!

  ‘I brought you the long way around to see some of the sights, but the hospital is only ten minutes directly west, twenty minutes on foot. Though I must warn you...’ he added with a smile that raised goose-bumps on her skin.