St Piran's: Daredevil, Doctor...Dad!

by Anne Fraser

  What was she going to say to Mac when they met?

  What the hell was she going to do?

  CHAPTER TWO

  ABBY’S stomach fluttered nervously as she stepped into the base of the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service. Although she had been a trained paramedic for almost twelve years, this would be an altogether different experience. She would be flying to rescues and despite the intensive training she had just undergone, she worried how she would cope with being lowered from a helicopter, particularly in gusty weather. But she was here now and those concerns paled into insignificance in comparison to her anxiety about meeting Mac again.

  Ever since she’d seen him on television she’d been agonising over what to do. What if he was married and had a family of his own? What if Mac didn’t want to know about his daughter? That hurt would be too great for the little girl. In which case should she even tell Emma that Mac was here? Did she have the right to keep the truth from Emma?

  In the end she decided she wouldn’t say anything to Emma until she’d had a chance to suss Mac out for herself. After all, a bad father was worse than no father at all.

  The air ambulance leader, who had interviewed Abby when she’d applied for the job, met her at the door. Paul was in his early fifties with an easy smile and a relaxed and welcoming manner.

  ‘Abby, we’ve been looking forward to you joining us,’ he said. ‘Did you enjoy your training? The course leader spoke highly of you.’

  The course leader might have spoken highly of her, but that meant zilch. How she would cope in a real-life rescue would be what counted.

  ‘What do think of Penhally Bay? ‘ Paul continued.

  ‘It’s lovely. I haven’t had too much time to explore yet—what with the course, getting my daughter settled into school and all the unpacking. But I promised Emma that on my first day off we’ll have a proper look around.’

  ‘It’s a great place for a child to grow up,’ Paul said ‘My kids have long since flown the coop, but they come back whenever they can. Is Emma liking Penhally High? Mine went there and they loved it. I can’t imagine it’s changed too much.’

  Abby nodded, managing a small smile. If nothing else, their move here had been the right thing for Emma, at least as far as her new school went. Although her daughter had only been at Penhally High for a short while, she had quickly made new friends and already seemed much happier and settled.

  So she was here to stay, and if life had thrown her a curve ball by flinging her directly in Mac’s path, so be it. There was no going back. But until she decided what, if anything, to tell him, she would play her cards close to her chest.

  Nevertheless her heart was pounding uncomfortably at the thought of meeting him again. Would he recognise her after all these years? It was unlikely. Her appearance had changed quite a bit and he hadn’t paid her much attention twelve years ago. He had been far too caught up in her twin sister, the glamorous, effervescent Sara.

  ‘Come up to the office and meet everyone,’ Paul interrupted her thoughts. ‘They’re looking forward to meeting you.’

  Her legs like jelly, Abby followed him up a steep flight of steps and into a large room where a number of people were chatting and drinking coffee.

  Immediately her eyes were drawn to Mac. He was sitting, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his arms cradling the back of his head as he chatted to a colleague. Like most of the others in the room, he was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, but his was unzipped almost to the waist, revealing a dazzling white T-shirt underneath. There was no disguising his powerful build and Abby felt as if a bird were trapped in her chest.

  ‘Everyone, I’d like you to meet our latest recruit, Abby Stevens,’ Paul introduced her.

  This was the moment she had been dreading. Would Mac remember her? Would he recall Sara’s last name? Had he even known what it was? Although everyone turned to look at her, Abby was unable to stop herself from watching Mac’s reaction. Blue eyes narrowed for a moment as if she had triggered a memory, but then he grinned and jumped to his feet. His eyes swept over her body.

  ‘I’m Dr William MacNeil. But everyone calls me Mac.’ His grip was firm and to her dismay it felt as if she had touched a live wire. Abby withdrew her hand quickly and turned to greet the other members of the team but not before she’d seen Mac’s puzzled frown.

  Abby forced herself to concentrate as she was introduced to the others in the room. Apart from Paul, there were two paramedics, Mike and Jim, a pilot—an older man called Greg—as well as Lucy, another doctor, and Kirsten, whose job it was to take the calls and keep in touch with the ambulance throughout the rescue. They all smiled welcomingly.

  Instinctively Abby knew she would enjoy working with this group of people—with one possible exception.

  ‘Would you mind showing Abby around, Mac?’ Paul asked. ‘I have some paperwork to attend to and Lucy and Mike have just popped in to give us a report on yesterday’s callout.’ Paul turned to Abby. ‘I’ll see you all later.’

  ‘A car accident on the coastal road,’ Lucy explained as Paul left the room. She was small and plump with bright, intelligent eyes. ‘The driver was going too fast for these roads and hit another car head on.’

  ‘Any fatalities? ‘ Abby asked.

  ‘Surprisingly not. Luckily the oncoming car managed to swerve in time. The fire brigade had to use the jaws of life to get the driver out. It took hours and we had to keep him ventilated by hand. He’s still on the critical list, but he’s damned lucky to be alive.’ Lucy glanced at her watch. ‘Time for me to go!’ She held out her hand again. ‘It’s good to have another woman on board, Abby. Kirsten and I get a little overwhelmed by all the testosterone around here, don’t we, Kirsten?’

  Kirsten grinned back. ‘Don’t let Lucy kid you—she’s a match for the guys any time.’

  Abby glanced across at Mac, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. He was studying Abby as if she puzzled him.

  ‘Hey, have we met before?’ he asked.

  Abby’s pulse beat even faster. Although she and Sara hadn’t been identical twins there had been similarities between them—hazel eyes, straight noses and curvy mouths. But Sara had cropped her hair short and bleached it platinum blonde for their Greek holiday. In contrast, Abby had kept her shoulder length caramel hair tied back in a ponytail and at that time had worn glasses. The two sisters could hardly have looked more different and unsurprisingly Mac had barely glanced at Abby back then. Even if he did recognise her, this was hardly the time or place to tell him about Sara and Emma. Not that she had decided what to tell him.

  She forced a smile. ‘I don’t think so.’

  He lost the frown and grinned at her. ‘You’re right,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I would have remembered you. I don’t tend to forget beautiful women.’ He winked at her.

  ‘And unless you’re losing it, they don’t tend to forget you either. That’s what you mean,’ chipped in Lucy. She turned to Abby, her eyes twinkling. ‘Watch out for our Mac here. We love him to bits, but he’s a heart-breaker. Luckily I’m too old for him and Kirsten’s already taken.’

  ‘You know I’d take you to dinner any day of the week, Lucy. Just say the word.’ Mac grinned back.

  ‘Ah, if only,’ Lucy sighed theatrically. She picked up her handbag. ‘I’m out of here.’

  ‘Me too,’ Kirsten said. ‘I’ve got work to do around here!’

  Left alone with Mac, Abby felt as if she had a coiled spring somewhere in her chest. He was still looking at her through half-closed eyes as if she puzzled him. ‘Dr MacNeil,’ she said stiffly. ‘I think we should get on with that tour, don’t you?’

  Again there was that heart-stopping grin. ‘Call me Mac. Everyone else does.’

  Mac stood back to let Abby go in front of him. He whistled under his breath as he watched the way her bottom swayed as she walked. On anyone else the orange uniform tunic top and matching trousers would have been unflattering, but it could have been tailor made for Abby.
And, even apart from her figure which looked as if it had been designed with him in mind, she was a stunner. A man could drown in those eyes and as for the high cheekbones, emphasised by the hint of colour his remarks had brought to her cheeks, he had dated models who would scratch their eyes out for bone structure like that. Even the spattering of freckles over her nose didn’t detract from her beauty—if anything, it made her cuter. He had already checked the third finger of her left hand. No wedding ring. Good. This was going to be interesting.

  Mac had only just started showing Abby the little office where Kirsten and her small team fielded the calls when the telephone rang.

  Kirsten held up a finger, asking for silence. They listened as she entered a few details into the computer.

  ‘Try not to worry, love. We’ll have someone there as soon as possible. Stay on the phone while I talk to the doctor.’

  She swivelled around in her chair until she was facing Abby and Mac.

  ‘I have a lady on the line. She’s thirty-four weeks pregnant but thinks she’s gone into early labour. She can’t get herself to the hospital because she’s on a farm and her husband is away with the car.’ Kirsten covered the mouthpiece with her hand. ‘She also tells me she has placenta praevia and was due to be admitted for a Caesarean section in a couple of weeks.’

  ‘Where is the farm?’ Mac asked. Gone was the laconic man of earlier. In his place was someone who was entirely focussed.

  Kirsten pointed to a map. ‘Over here.’

  ‘What about the local road ambulance?’ Abby asked.

  Kirsten shook her head. ‘It’s at least an hour away on these roads and, besides, the woman—she’s called Jenny Hargreaves—says the track to the farm is pretty impassable for anything except a four-by-four. We’ve had some heavy rain over the last fortnight.’

  ‘We need to get her to the maternity unit as fast as possible,’ Mac said. ‘Okay, Kirsten, get Greg to fire the ‘copter up and tell Jenny we’re on our way. Is there anyone with her who can help? A friend? A neighbour?’

  Kirsten shook her head. ‘She’s on her own, apart from her nine-year-old son.’

  ‘Get him on the line and keep him there. Then phone St Piran’s and bring them up to speed. Could you make sure we have an incubator for the baby on board, too? C’mon, Abby. I guess you’re on. Let’s go and get kitted up.’

  As Abby raced after him down the steps and into the cloakroom where their gear was kept, she ran through what she knew about placenta praevia. And what she did know didn’t make her feel any better.

  ‘Not good news, is it?’ she said as Mac passed her a jacket.

  ‘Tell me what you know about the condition.’

  ‘Placenta praevia is where the placenta is lying in front of the baby, blocking the birth canal. I know it can cause massive, even fatal bleeding if left untreated. If she’s already in labour, we don’t have much time.’ Although they had covered complications of childbirth in their training, until Sara it hadn’t crossed Abby’s mind that it could really happen. Now she knew better. Please, God, don’t let this first call end in disaster.

  ‘Do we have an obstetrician on call?’ she asked.

  ‘At St Piran’s. Kirsten will patch us through as soon as we’re airborne. There’s no time to wait, though.’ Mac stopped for a moment and rested his hands on her shoulders. He looked directly into her eyes. ‘Are you going to be okay?’ His look was calm, reassuring. Everything about him radiated confidence and Abby relaxed a little.

  ‘Sure.’ She kept her voice light. ‘All in a day’s work.’

  They piled into the helicopter and lifted off, heading towards the coast.

  ‘ETA twenty minutes,’ Greg’s voice came over the radio. ‘It’s a bit breezy where we’re heading so it might get a little bumpy.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll be able to put down?’ Mac asked.

  ‘There’s a good-sized field behind the farmhouse, but I guess it depends on how soggy the ground is. We won’t know until we get there.’

  Abby and Mac shared a look.

  ‘Have you ever done an emergency section before?’ Abby asked. If they couldn’t get mother and baby to hospital, it would be their only chance. But such a procedure would be tricky even for a qualified obstetrician in a fully equipped theatre. Her heart started pounding again. Confidence was one thing, but did Mac have the skill needed to back it up?

  ‘I have.’ He leaned across and flashed Abby another wicked grin. ‘But don’t worry, I have every intention of letting the obstetricians do it.’ He held up a finger and listened intently.

  A quiet voice came over the radio. ‘Hello, Mac. Dr Gibson here. What do we have?’

  ‘A thirty-four-weeker with placenta praevia who has gone into early labour. Control has her son on the phone. Mum tells him she thinks her contractions are coming about five minutes apart. The mother’s name is Jenny Hargreaves. She tells us she was due to be delivered by section at St Piran’s so you should have her case notes there.’

  There was a short silence. Abby guessed Dr Gibson was bringing up Jenny’s record on her computer screen.

  ‘I’ll make sure neonatal intensive care is standing by and that we have a theatre ready. How long d’you think before you’ll have her here for us?’

  ‘Another ten minutes until we land. If we can. Say another ten to examine our lady and get her loaded and twenty back. Do you think we’ll make it?’ Again there was that easy smile as if this was just another everyday callout.

  ‘If anyone can, you can,’ came back the reply. ‘But if she’s gone into active labour she could be bleeding massively and you may have to section her there and then. It won’t be easy.’

  ‘Hell, whoever said anything is easy in this job? But trust me.’ He turned and winked at Abby. ‘If I can get her to you without having to section her, I will.’ He flexed long fingers. ‘Been a long time since I did one of those.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Dr Gibson said calmly.

  A short while later they reached the farm. To Abby’s relief the pilot had been able to find a spot to land. The helicopter rotors had barely slowed when Mac hefted the large medical bag over his shoulder.

  ‘Okay, we’re on. Remember to keep your head down.’ Abby took a deep breath, sent a silent prayer towards heaven, and followed him out of the helicopter.

  Mac sprinted towards the farmhouse, carrying the medical case that weighed at least ten kilos as if it were nothing. Abby ran after him, doing her best to keep up.

  A child with wide, frightened eyes was waiting for them by the doorway.

  ‘Please hurry, my mum is bleeding,’ the boy said.

  This was the worst possible news. Jenny being in labour was one thing, but they had banked on having enough time to get her to hospital. If she had started bleeding it meant that the placenta was beginning to detach. As it did, the baby’s life support system became compromised and the life of the mother was in jeopardy. It would have been dangerous enough in hospital, but all Abby and Mac had was some morphine and basic equipment. It wasn’t good. Abby’s heart jumped to her throat.

  Mac paused by the doorway and hunkered down so that he was at eye level with the boy. He placed a hand on the child’s shoulder.

  ‘What’s your name, son?’

  ‘Tim.’

  ‘It’s going to be all right, Tim, I promise. Now, if you could take us to your mum, we’ll look after her.’

  Whatever Tim saw in Mac’s eyes seemed to reassure him. He nodded and led them inside the farmhouse and into a bedroom. On the bed, a woman lay writhing with pain. She was pale and her eyes were stretched wide with fear.

  Abby and Mac rushed to her side.

  ‘Jenny, isn’t it?’ Mac said as he laid the medical case on the floor. ‘I’m Dr MacNeil and this is Abby Stevens. We’re going to do everything we can to look after you and your baby.’

  Abby felt Jenny’s pulse.

  ‘Over one hundred and thready,’ she told Mac as she unwrapped the stethoscope from around her neck.r />
  ‘How long have you been bleeding? And when did the contractions start? ‘ Mac asked.

  ‘I just started bleeding a few minutes ago. The contractions started about an hour ago. I phoned the hospital and they said they would get an ambulance.’ Jenny reached out a hand and squeezed Abby’s fingers hard. ‘You have to save my baby. Please. You’ve got to help us.’

  ‘We are going to do everything possible,’ Abby replied with what she hoped was a confident smile.

  She checked Jenny’s blood pressure. As expected, it was low. Jenny was already bleeding heavily.

  ‘I’m just going to give you some fluids through a needle in your vein,’ Mac explained as he swabbed a patch of skin near Jenny’s elbow. ‘Then we’re going to get you onto a stretcher and into the air ambulance, okay?’

  ‘What about Tim? I can’t leave him here by himself. My husband isn’t due back until tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Is there a neighbour we could call for you?’

  Jenny shook her head. ‘We only moved here a couple of months ago. I don’t know anyone yet. I’ve been so busy getting ready for the new baby.’

  ‘In that case, Tim can come in the helicopter with us. How about it, Tim? ‘ Mac turned to the little boy who had remained by the door, taking everything in with wide eyes.

  ‘Wicked,’ he said. Now adults were taking control, the colour had returned to his face.

  Mac finished setting up the drip.

  ‘Okay, Jenny. The helicopter’s just outside waiting to take you to hospital. We’re going to get you on board as quickly as we can.’

  Jenny clutched her stomach as another contraction took hold. ‘Just get me to the hospital,’ she said through gritted teeth. Then she forced a smile and turned to her son. ‘Tim will help, won’t you, love? ‘

  Tim’s terror had disappeared. Whether it was because they were there helping his mother or whether it was the excitement of the helicopter ride, Abby didn’t know or care. All that mattered was that the boy was calm. It would help Jenny and give them one less thing to worry about.

  Abby draped a blanket round her patient before strapping her into the stretcher. As they carried her outside, Abby tried not to wince when a contraction gripped the mother and she squeezed Abby’s fingers with ferocious strength.