Their Own Little Miracle

by Caroline Anderson

  Had all that only taken thirty-one minutes? It had been the longest half-hour of her life, but Joe Baker seemed to have taken it in his stride, not seeming even slightly fazed by it.

  Good luck, or good judgement? Maybe a bit of both, but Jim was still alive and she knew if it hadn’t been for Joe they would have lost him.

  It wasn’t going so well for James and his team, though, from what she could hear, and definitely not his patient.

  Then she heard James sigh heavily. ‘OK, everyone, I’m calling it. Are we all agreed?’ There was a low murmur, followed by silence. ‘Time of death, sixteen twenty-one. Can somebody cover him, please, but leave everything in place for the post mortem. I’ll go and talk to his family.’

  Her eyes flicked to James, and he was stripping off his gloves and gown and coming over to her.

  She smiled at him sympathetically. ‘Thanks for your support. I’m sorry about your patient.’

  ‘Yeah, me, too, but that’s life. You did well, by the way. Are you OK?’

  She smiled properly this time, slightly surprised to find that she was, even though she was shaking from head to foot. ‘Yes, I am. He was quite hard on me, but I probably deserved it. I was freaking out a bit, but he made it look so easy.’

  James smiled. ‘I’ve heard great things about Joe. He’s only been here a few weeks, but his clinical lead says he’s red hot, and he thinks he’ll go far.’

  ‘Unlike me. I was like a rabbit in headlights.’

  ‘No, you weren’t, you were just faced with a dying patient and no real way of dealing with it, even though you were doing everything right. Sam couldn’t have got here in time, and if Joe hadn’t been here you would have lost him, or I would have had to abandon my patient to save yours. Not that it would have mattered, as it turns out. Sometimes we just can’t save them.’

  She swallowed. ‘I know.’ She stripped off her gown and gloves, dumped them in the bin, took off the heavy lead apron and realised her stethoscope, her anchor that reminded her on an hourly basis that she really was a doctor and it wasn’t just a dream, wasn’t there. And Joe had already mislaid his own.

  ‘Rats. He’s still got my stethoscope.’

  ‘They’ll have one on the desk. You’ll get it back.’

  She smiled grimly. ‘Too right I will. Thanks, James.’

  He pushed open the door. ‘You’re welcome. Right, I need to talk to my patient’s family, and you need to talk to yours. Ah, here comes the cavalry. You’ve just missed Iona’s first REBOA, Sam.’

  Sam’s eyes widened and he looked at Iona. ‘You did it?’

  ‘No, of course I didn’t, I just assisted. Joe Baker came down and he was going to take him to IR, but then the patient crashed and it was—he did it, just like that.’

  ‘Of course he did. That’s all they do in IR, stick things in blood vessels. It’s their job. I should damn well hope he was good at it. Did he talk you through it?’

  ‘Yes—once he’d lectured me for doubting him.’

  Sam laughed. ‘Yeah, that wouldn’t have gone down well.’

  ‘It didn’t. He got his own back, though. He’s nicked my stethoscope.’

  ‘The one your sister gave you?’ He chuckled. ‘He’s a brave man. I suggest you go and look for a nice quiet ingrowing toenail until it’s time to go home. That should keep you out of mischief. And don’t worry, you’ll get it back.’

  * * *

  He still had her stethoscope.

  The graduation present from her sister, the one he’d been told in no uncertain terms not to lose or damage. He could see why, it was a really expensive one, although it had to be a few years old now. No wonder she’d been precious about it. His own was only slightly better, and he’d bought it last year because he’d mislaid the one identical to this.

  That was getting to be a habit.

  He changed out of his scrubs, pulled on his clothes, clipped his watch on his wrist and checked the time. Seven thirty. She’d be long gone, unless she was on a late shift, but it was worth a try. He might even invite her out for dinner—assuming she’d speak to him. He’d been a bit tough on her, but he felt a grudging admiration for a junior registrar who’d had the guts to stand up to him in defence of her patient.

  He headed down to the ED, found the nurse who’d been with them in Resus and asked her where Iona was.

  She folded her arms and looked him straight in the eye, and he had the distinct feeling he was in trouble. ‘She’s gone.’

  ‘Do you know where I can find her? I borrowed her stethoscope and forgot to give it back.’

  ‘Yes, she mentioned that. She wasn’t happy about it.’

  He laughed softly. ‘No, I’m sure she wasn’t.’

  ‘You can leave it with me.’

  ‘I can’t do that. She told me I’d be dead meat if anything happened to it and I don’t think it was an empty threat. I’ll hang onto it and give it to her tomorrow.’

  ‘She’s away this weekend. She’s not back in till Monday.’

  ‘And I’m on a course next week. Great.’ He hesitated. ‘I don’t suppose you know her address or mobile number?’

  Jenny raised an eyebrow. ‘Now, you don’t seriously expect me to give it to you? I do know where you can find her, though. She’s at the Queens Hotel just round the corner. There’s a charity speed-dating event raising money for the new IR angio-surgical suite. I’m surprised you aren’t going anyway as it’s in aid of your department, but here’s your chance to support it. Out of the drive, turn left, five hundred yards on the right. You can’t miss it.’

  Speed-dating? Seriously? She was gorgeous! Why would she need to go speed-dating, of all things? And then he realised she’d be helping with the organisation. Idiot.

  ‘OK. Thanks.’ He headed for his car, followed the directions and parked on the road opposite the hotel. The speed-dating event was signposted from Reception, and he headed towards the door. It shouldn’t be hard to find her—

  ‘Oh, excellent, we’re short of men, especially good-looking young doctors. That’ll be ten pounds, please. Can I take your name?’

  He frowned. ‘How do you know I’m a doctor?’

  ‘The stethoscope?’

  ‘Ah. Yes. Actually—’ He was about to tell the woman why he was there, and then spotted Iona at one of the tables that were arranged in a circle, a man sitting opposite her. OK, she wasn’t just helping, she was actually doing it as well, and if he wanted to see her, he’d have to pay up and queue for his slot. That was fine. It meant she’d have to listen to him for three minutes or whatever it was, which meant he’d have time to apologise for pushing her so far out of her comfort zone in Resus. And having three minutes to look at her was no hardship. He might even persuade her to go out for dinner—

  ‘Name, please?’

  ‘Sorry. Joe Baker. I’ve only got a twenty-pound note,’ he said, but the woman just smiled, said, ‘That’ll do perfectly,’ plucked it out of his fingers, stuck a label with ‘JOE’ written on it on his chest and handed him a printed card and a pencil.

  So he could score the ladies? Good grief. He wrote her name and ten out of ten, and waited.

  There was a gap before Iona, maybe because of the lack of men, so he hovered and then pounced when the bell rang and the man at her table got up and moved on.

  He sat down in front of her, and she looked up from her score card and did a mild double take, her eyes widening.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  He took the stethoscope from round his neck and handed it to her with a rueful smile. ‘I forgot to return this, and when I refused to give it to the nurse who was in Resus because you’d told me in no uncertain terms what you’d do to me, she told me where to find you.’

  Her mouth flickered in a smile. ‘Ah. Jenny.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right. She wouldn’t give me your addre
ss.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘I should hope not!’

  He gave a little huff of laughter at the outrage in her voice. ‘I might have been insulted if I hadn’t been glad she was so protective of your privacy, but I also wanted to apologise for pushing you out of your comfort zone in Resus.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologise,’ she said, her clear and really rather lovely green eyes clouding, ‘even though you were rude and patronising—’

  ‘Rude and patronising?’ he asked, pretending to be outraged, but she held his eyes and a little smile tugged at her mouth, drawing his attention to it. Soft, full, and very expressive. Like her eyes. He wondered what it would be like to kiss her—

  ‘You were a teeny bit. I was way out of my comfort zone, because I thought you’d need more from me than I could give you. I’ve never led before on a case that critical and I should have appreciated you’d only do what you knew you could, but I was afraid Jim was going to die and I was freaking out a bit. I’m sorry you took it wrong, it really wasn’t meant like that.’

  ‘Don’t apologise,’ he said wryly. ‘Standing up to me took guts, and you were quite right about the risks. Without image guidance there were no guarantees I could get the guide wire in without causing more damage, but I’d had a good look at the X-rays and I was pretty sure I could do it, and anyway, as I think I pointed out fairly succinctly, Jim had run out of options. He’s OK, by the way. I sorted the bleeds, repaired the entry site and shipped him off to the orthos with a nice healthy reperfusion and well within the time limit. They’ve put an ex-fix on in Theatre and he’s doing OK.’

  He saw her shoulders sag slightly with relief. ‘Oh, good. Thanks for the update. I’ve been worrying about him.’

  ‘No need to worry, he’s sore, he’s broken but he’ll make it. Good stethoscope, by the way. Very good. Your sister must think a lot of you.’

  She smiled, her eyes softening. ‘She does. That’s why I was worried about you walking off with it, knowing you’d already lost yours. It didn’t bode well.’

  He laughed at that little dig. ‘I hadn’t lost it, it was in my locker, I just failed to pick it up—but I did lose the last one, so you weren’t wide of the mark. You did well, by the way,’ he added, sliding his score sheet across the table to her. ‘It was a tricky case to manage and you’d done everything right. You should be proud of yourself.’

  She glanced down at the paper and her eyes widened. ‘Ten out of ten? That’s very generous. You must be feeling guilty.’

  ‘No, I just give credit where it’s due, even if I am rude and patronising. And I did return your stethoscope, so hopefully that’ll earn me a few Brownie points.’

  ‘Maybe the odd one.’

  Her lips twitched, and he sat back with a smile, folded his arms and held her eyes, trying not to think about kissing her. Or peeling off that clingy little top and—

  ‘So, anyway, that’s why I’m here. What about you?’

  ‘Me?’ She looked slightly flustered. ‘Because it’s a good cause?’

  He raised an eyebrow at her, deeply unconvinced, and she smiled and shrugged and took him completely by surprise. ‘OK. You asked. I’m looking for a sperm donor.’

  Joe felt his jaw drop, and he stifled the laugh in the nick of time. Of all the unlikely things for her to say, and to him, of all people...

  ‘You’re kidding.’

  ‘No. No, I’m not kidding. I’m looking for a tall Nordic type with white-blond hair, blue eyes and good bone structure, so you can relax, you don’t qualify.’

  ‘I might feel a bit insulted by that,’ he said, still trying to work out if she was joking.

  She smiled, her eyes mocking. ‘Oh, don’t be, it’s not personal. I have very specific criteria and you don’t fit them.’

  He frowned at her, but she was so deadpan he didn’t know whether she was completely off her trolley or winding him up. He turned and scanned the men in the room and this time he didn’t stifle the laugh.

  ‘OK,’ he murmured in a low undertone. ‘Nor does anyone else in this room. So far you’ve written zero out of ten against everyone, and the nearest candidate is white-blond because he’s twice your age. He’s also about three inches shorter than you and twice as heavy. And the lady on the next table looks utterly terrifying, so frankly I reckon we’re done here. I’m starving, I haven’t eaten since breakfast and I don’t suppose you have, either, so why don’t we get the hell out of here, go and find a nice pub and have something to eat? And that way I can apologise properly for being rude and patronising.’

  ‘Won’t your wife mind?’ she asked, clearly fishing, and he raised an eyebrow and gave her the short answer.

  ‘I don’t have one. So—dinner?’

  She hesitated for so long he thought she was going to say no, but then the bell rang, the lady at the next table was eyeing him hungrily, and she looked at the man heading to take his place, grabbed her bag and stethoscope and got to her feet.

  ‘Sorry. We have to go,’ she said, squeezing round from behind the table, and they headed for the door amid a chorus of protests. From both sexes. He stifled a smile.

  ‘Right, where to?’ he asked, and she shrugged.

  ‘What do you fancy? Thai, Chinese, Mexican, Indian, Asian fusion, pub grub, Italian, modern British—’

  ‘Good grief. All of those in Yoxburgh?’

  She chuckled. ‘Oh, yes. They might be busy, though, it’s Friday night.’

  He had a much better idea. ‘How about a nice, cosy gastro-pub? There’s one right round the corner from my house that comes highly recommended, and we’ll definitely get a table there.’

  ‘Is it far? Can I walk back? My car’s at home.’

  ‘No, it’s a bit out of town, but that’s fine, I’ll drive you home. Look on it as a hire charge for the use of your stethoscope.’

  Again she hesitated, a wary look in her eyes, but then she nodded as if she’d finally decided she could trust him. ‘OK. That sounds good.’

  * * *

  To her surprise—and slight consternation—he headed out of town and turned off the main road down a lane so small it didn’t even have a signpost.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, wondering if she should be worried and trying to convince herself that she shouldn’t, that he was a doctor, he was hardly going to harm her—

  ‘Glemsfield,’ he said. ‘It’s a tiny village, but it has a great pub and a thriving little community.’

  ‘It’s in the middle of nowhere,’ she said. Even quieter than where her parents lived, and that was pretty isolated. And it was getting dark. Was she mad? Or just unable to trust any man to have a shred of decency?

  ‘It is. It’s lovely, and it’s only three miles from Yoxburgh and much more peaceful. Well, apart from the barking muntjac deer at night. They get a bit annoying sometimes but I threaten them with the freezer.’

  That made her laugh. ‘And does it work?’

  ‘Not so you’d notice,’ he said drily, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

  They passed a few houses and dropped down into what she assumed must be the centre of the village, but then he drove past the brightly lit pub on the corner, turned onto a drive and cut the engine.

  Although it was only dusk the area was in darkness, shrouded by the overgrown shrubs each side of the drive, and the whole place had a slight air of neglect. She suppressed a shudder of apprehension as she got out of the car and looked around.

  ‘I thought we were going to the pub? You just drove past it.’

  ‘I know, but the car park’ll be heaving on a Friday night so I thought it was easier to park at my house—well, actually my aunt’s house. She’s in a home and I’m caretaking it for her and trying to get it back into some sort of order. It’s going to take me a while.’

  ‘Yes, I think it might,’ she murmured, eyeing the weeds
that had taken over the gravel drive.

  ‘I’ll get there. Come on, my stomach’s starting to make its presence felt.’

  He ushered her across the road, and as they walked back towards the corner she could hear the hubbub of voices growing louder.

  ‘Gosh, it’s busy!’ she said as they went in.

  ‘It always is. I’ll see if we can get a table, otherwise we might have to get them to cook for us and take it back to mine.’ He leant on the bar and attracted the eye of a middle-aged woman. ‘Hi, Maureen. Can you squeeze us in?’

  ‘Oh, I think so. If you don’t mind waiting a minute, I’ve got a couple just about to leave. Here, have a menu and don’t forget the specials board. Can I get you a drink while you wait?’

  ‘I’m going to splash out and have tap water, but I’m driving. Iona? How about a glass of Prosecco to celebrate your first REBOA?’

  ‘It was hardly mine.’

  ‘Ah, well, that’s just splitting hairs. Prosecco? Or gin and tonic? They have some interesting gins. And tonics.’

  She wrestled with her common sense, and it lost. She smiled at him. ‘A small glass of Prosecco would be lovely. Thank you.’

  ‘And some bread, Maureen, please, before I keel over.’

  ‘Poor baby,’ Maureen said with a motherly but mildly mocking smile, and handed them their drinks before she disappeared into the kitchen.

  ‘So, the menu. The twice baked Cromer crab soufflé with crayfish cream is fabulous. It’s a starter but it makes a great main with one of the vegetable sides.’

  ‘Is that what you’re having?’

  ‘No. I’m having the beer-battered fish and chips, because it’s absolutely massive and I’m starving.’ He grinned wickedly, and it made him look like a naughty boy. A very grown-up naughty boy. Her pulse did a little hiccup.

  Maureen put the bread down in front of him. ‘Is that your order, Joe? Fish and chips and mushy peas?’

  ‘Please. Iona?’

  ‘I’ll go with the crab soufflé, please. It sounds lovely.’

  ‘Have sweet potato fries,’ he suggested. ‘They’re amazing.’

  ‘I don’t suppose they’ve got a single calorie in them, either,’ she said, laughing.