‘Doesn’t look much like a home,’ Ivy moaned, as they wheeled her into the foyer. ‘It looks more like an institution if you ask me.’ She gave a low, dry laugh. ‘But, then, why would anyone care what I think? I’m just the old coot.’
‘Just try and make the best of it,’ Isla soothed, willing Ivy to be quiet as a rather bossy-looking woman made her way over.
‘Mrs Dullard?’ She shook the reluctant patient’s hand. ‘I’m Noelene, the unit manager.’
‘This is Ivy,’ Isla ventured, praying the manager would force a smile so that Ivy wouldn’t demand to be let out at the first hurdle.
‘And I assume this is Ivy’s vodka?’ Noelene said knowingly, taking the bottle Isla was clutching. ‘Hoping for a quick final belt in the ambulance before you got here, were you?’
‘Do you blame me?’ Ivy answered cheekily, but Noelene had an answer.
‘Completely, Ivy.
‘Right, Martha will take you through to the admission room and go through your bag and coat with you, just to check you haven’t brought any more little surprises, and then we’ll get the admitting doctor down to see you.’
‘Good luck, Ivy.’ Isla gave her a quick hug before Ted wheeled Ivy off. ‘Remember, these people are here to help you.’
‘Kill me more like,’ Ivy shouted over her shoulder, leaving Isla alone with the manager.
‘Poor old thing,’ Isla ventured as Noelene read through Sav’s admission letter. ‘She lost her husband.’
‘Twenty years ago,’ Noelene pointed out. ‘And a “poor old thing” is how Ivy considers herself when, in fact, she’s actually bloody lucky. She’s got a sister who’s willing to take her, which is more than most people have.’
‘She’s really very sweet.’
‘And very manipulative.’ Noelene looked up from the letter. ‘She’s already got you wrapped around her little finger.’
‘I guess,’ Isla admitted, with a wry smile. ‘Do you think she’ll make it?’
‘That’s up to Ivy.’ Noelene gave a tight shrug, then her face softened for a fleeting moment. ‘She’s a tough old boot, but she’s at least got her pride and a bit of fight left in her. It’s nice that she takes care of her appearance.’
‘Do you think?’ Isla’s eyes widened, thinking of the wild grey hair and tatty old coat.
‘She still puts on her lipstick, still manages to make a bit of an effort—it’s a good sign. The doctor will start her on an alcohol withdrawal regime. We’ll give her Valium to get her through the first few days, given her age and everything, and there will be lots of counselling and support for her from the team, but at the end of the day it’s Ivy’s choice. All we can do is give her a chance—it’s up to Ivy whether she takes it.’
‘Any chance of a cuppa, Noelene?’ Doug and Ted were back from admissions. And for the first time since Isla had met her, Noelene actually bordered on approachable, her stern face breaking into a semblance of a smile, a hint of a blush dusting her cheeks.
‘Of course, Dougie. How about you two?’
‘Not for me,’ Ted said. ‘I’ve got me Thermos in the ambulance, and some nice biscuits. Fancy a yarn and a cuppa while I tidy up the van, Isla?’
‘Sounds great,’ Isla said, leaving the blushing duo to it.
‘Dougie lives for call-outs to Eden Lodge,’ Ted said, pouring steaming coffee into a cup and handing it to Isla.
‘Is that why we got an ambulance so quickly?’ Isla asked with a laugh and Ted nodded.
‘He almost put on the blue lights. They’ve been carrying on like that for years now. Dougie’s just never had the courage to ask her out.’
‘Well, he should.’ Isla took a sip of her hot sweet brew. ‘Did you see the way she blushed? They look made for each other.’
‘Like you and Sav.’ Ted took a noisy slurp of his coffee and thankfully didn’t notice the tiny wince on Isla’s face. ‘He’s a great guy.’
‘I know,’ Isla admitted, because, quite simply, he was, but Ted looked up.
‘I know, you know.’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Must be hard on you both.’
‘It has been,’ Isla admitted slowly, frowning as Ted carried on talking.
‘I know when my Bess died I was like Ivy there for a while. Too happy to get home and pour a large whisky.’
‘But you got through it. I mean, you seem happy now.’
Ted shrugged. ‘I am happy, but I tell you what, Isla, sometimes it’s nice to get home and let the mask slip. I know Sav always seems happy and that, but I reckon it’s the same for him, huh? Must be good for him to get home and just be himself.’
He didn’t see her frown, didn’t see her sit staring into her coffee as the radio on the dashboard crackled into life.
And suddenly she understood.
No one was wrong and no one was right either.
It was just grief.
The hard long road of grief that you had to walk for the most part alone, but sometimes every now and then you could, if you read the signs carefully, meet up along the way then hopefully, at some stage, arrive back home together.
Tonight they’d be together.
Tonight they’d stop for a while and find out how the other one was doing.
Be there for each other, compromise for each other and hopefully, hopefully take some steps together.
‘We’ve got a call-out.’ Ted sounded the horn as Isla hastily threw out the last of the coffee and packed up the remains of their break. ‘Priority one,’ Ted shouted as Dougie jumped into the driver’s seat. ‘Heart-attack victim at the shopping centre in the high street. There’s a doctor in attendance, giving BLS.’ All this was said as the ambulance screeched out of the driveway, sirens and lights blaring, and Isla sat on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance and clipped on her lap belt, a bubble of excitement welling inside as the ambulance raced through the morning traffic on its way to someone in need. It was like riding a roller-coaster as Doug accelerated and braked. Her fingers were white as she gripped the underside of the stretcher beneath her, eyeing the LifePak defibrillator, thrilled that she was going to be an active part of this.
Because emergency nurses lived for this. Each and every one surely at some time considered joining the paramedics—being first at the scene, making life-and-death decisions with very little back-up.
High on adrenaline, her heart thumping with excitement, Isla sucked in her breath as the ambulance jolted. She felt the surge as Doug slammed on the brakes, but somewhere it all went wrong. Just as the vehicle should have accelerated again, she felt the vehicle tip, the screech of brakes coupled with a horrible lurch as Ted let out a shout. She saw the flash of a cyclist darting across the road and she thought she should be screaming, but she was trying too hard just to hold on, could feel her upper body hurtling from one side to the other, her cheek slamming against cold metal over and over as the sound of metal meeting concrete ripped through her ears. Her hands flailed wildly, trying to buffer herself, trying to somehow cling on, as glass popped around her, one final, lucid stream of thought as she spun like a rag doll in a tumble-dryer as the ambulance finally tipped on its side and skidded to a noisy halt.
Sav.
Harry.
Luke.
Casey.
They all thundered into her mind with more impact than the car that was slamming into the wreckage.
And then it was Sav all over again.
Did he know how much she loved him?
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘CAN I have a word, Heath?’
Sav frowned as Jayne popped her head around the door. The hours between ten and eleven on a Monday morning were sacred, used exclusively for the weekly doctor’s lecture. Only the most serious of emergencies merited an interruption.
‘Problem?’ Sav checked.
‘Nothing Heath can’t deal with,’ Jayne said lightly—too lightly, Sav thought, his forehead creasing into a frown as Heath mumbled his apologies and ducked out. And suddenly the merits of intra-osseous inf
usions as opposed to IV cutdown didn’t seem to matter very much to anyone, his audience lost for good now as again Jayne’s head appeared around the door.
‘We’ve had an alert from Ambulance Control, guys. Multi-vehicle pile-up, with multiple injuries. We’re sending out the squad.’ Jayne nodded to Martin Elmes, the senior consultant, just back from his extended leave. ‘We haven’t got an estimated time of arrival yet, I just thought I should let you all know.’
‘I’m down for the squad today,’ Sav pointed out, the lecture forgotten as he started to cross the room. ‘Why did you call Heath out?’
‘Because he needs the experience,’ Jayne snapped uncharacteristically, especially given the fact they were in a room full of doctors. ‘Give him his head, would you, Sav? He hasn’t been out with the squad for ages.
‘Martin, can I borrow you for a moment?’ she added.
Suddenly Sav felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach, that niggling sense of foreboding, which had stayed with him since he’d said goodbye to Isla, increasing now. He tried to reason it out, to rationalize the fears that were pinging into his mind at an appalling rate, to take deep breaths and stay in control, to reassure himself that everything was OK.
But if everything was OK, why wasn’t anybody looking at him? Why, as he walked through the department, did everyone seem to disappear, suddenly too busy to look up and smile? There wasn’t one single request for his attention, not a single person meeting his eyes as he strode out to the entrance.
‘I’m going out with the squad,’ he barked, heading for the equipment cupboard, just in time to see Heath pulling on his backpack as he darted outside to the waiting ambulance. Lights and sirens were blazing, Sav’s voice as he called his colleague drowned out in the noise. But for some reason Heath stopped, shouted something to the waiting ambos and headed back.
‘I’m taking Sav.’
‘No!’ Jayne’s normally laid-back voice was perhaps the most assertive Sav had heard it outside the resus room. Even Martin Elmes was joining in the chorus, pulling Sav back with one hand and waving Heath on.
‘I’m taking Sav,’ Heath said again, more loudly this time, his decision firmly made. Sav didn’t need to be asked twice. Even if Heath had taken back his offer, it would have been too late. Already he was jumping into the ambulance, slamming the door, bile churning in his gut as his worst fears appeared to be being confirmed. He turned to face the man who right now he maybe should have hated most in the world, but right now really needed.
‘What the hell’s going on, Heath?’
‘I’m not sure…’ Heath started, but Sav waved the prevarication away.
‘I need to know now!’ Sav was shouting to be heard above the sirens as the ambulance tore out of the bay.
‘One of the vehicles in the accident may be an ambulance!’ Heath waited a second before continuing, watching as Sav’s eyes widened in horror, his face paling, clenching his fists against his temples. ‘Apparently the vehicle that’s called for assistance has a nurse escort on board.’
‘Isla?’ His voice was a hoarse whisper and Heath didn’t hear it, just watched his colleague’s pale lips form the two syllables.
‘We don’t know for sure. There’s a switch on the console of the ambulance, like a panic button. That’s gone off. They could just be assisting at an accident. We don’t know for sure that they’re involved…’
‘Bull!’ Sav shook his head, gulping in air, nausea so vile he could taste it. ‘They don’t press that button just for assistance—that button’s only used if the crew’s in trouble. It gridlocks the system—every ambulance, every police car races to the scene. You know that,’ he said, his voice rising. ‘You know that!’
‘Sav!’ It was Heath shouting now, his voice a mental slap to Sav’s pale cheek. ‘Till we get there we won’t know anything! Now, you know as well as I do that you shouldn’t be here, that a family member is the last thing we need at a scene like this—’
‘I have to be there,’ Sav interrupted fiercely, and Heath nodded.
‘I know. But, Sav, you have to let me go in there first, I mean that. I’m going to go in and assess and I’ll—’
‘I’m going in with you.’
‘No!’ Heath’s voice was equally firm. ‘I’m the doctor in charge here, Sav! This is my call-out and you are not going in there until I say so. Now, if I can’t trust you to wait for me, I’ll tell them up front to turn around…’ He held Sav’s savage glare. ‘I’ll tell them that there’s a chance it’s your wife at the scene and to send out another team from another hospital.’
‘And how much time will that waste?’ Sav growled.
‘Too much,’ Heath snapped. ‘So you’re going to sit tight till I call you.’
Which was an impossible ask, so, instead of sitting tight, he stood as the ambulance slowed down, closed his eyes in a second of silent prayer as the police waved them through, his heart stilling as he eyed the mangled wreckage of an ambulance, lying like a discarded toy on its side, a car impacted into its rear rendering access difficult, smoke pouring out the front as firefighters applied foam. It was like watching a horror movie, like living a nightmare all over again. He could almost smell his own fear, feel appalling memories he’d sworn never to relive flashing in as his heart tripped into life again, pumping loudly in his temples. He knew, just knew that Isla was in there.
That Isla, his Isla whom he’d sworn to protect, had promised to love and make happy, was trapped in the same hell he’d once witnessed.
‘Stay here,’ Heath warned, as Sav lifted the backpack containing lifesaving equipment onto Heath’s shoulders.
‘I need to be with her.’ Sav gripped his arm, stared into his colleague’s eyes and saw something that hadn’t been there for ages—integrity? Honour? He couldn’t quite place it, but something told him that the old Heath was back, that finally once more he could trust him. ‘Even if she’s—’
‘I’ll call for you.’ They were waiting for the all-clear, for the firefighters to give the thumbs-up and let them in. ‘I’m sorry, Sav, not just for this, but for what happened the other night…’
‘Later,’ Sav said through chattering teeth. ‘We can deal with all of that later. Like it or not, right now both Isla and I need you.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SHE glimpsed his hell.
Maybe for the first time Isla understood why Sav didn’t want to talk about it.
The appalling sound of silence as the world slowly came into focus. The ear-splitting noises that had surrounded her as she’d plunged into unconsciousness way more palatable than the noises that were starting to drift in now—the treacherous sound of an obstructed airway, laboured, slow breaths that demanded her assistance, but even as Isla went to move she knew it would be futile. She felt the heavy weight of metal on her chest before she registered the pain and understood that she was trapped.
‘Isla?’ She could hear Ted’s gruff voice in the darkness.
‘Ted!’ It was more a gasp than a word, every breath a supreme effort as the mangled stretcher that pinned her seemed to grip tighter, her one free hand working out the structure as her eyes struggled to focus. ‘Ted?’ She said it louder, more forcibly this time.
‘It’s OK, Isla. I’ve hit the panic button. Help’s coming.’
It had to be coming, Isla reasoned. They were in the middle of a busy street, people would be jamming the phone lines calling for help. But why wasn’t it here? Why wasn’t someone helping?
‘Doug?’ With mounting panic she listened to his laboured breathing, pushed at the stretcher with her hands, desperately trying to budge it, to move legs she couldn’t even feel, to go and render some desperately needed assistance. ‘Ted, you have to do something. I can’t, I’m trapped. Doug’s airway’s blocked, he needs—’
‘I can’t!’ His two tortured words said it all, and Isla’s eyes screwed closed as Ted spoke on. ‘I can’t get over to him. My legs are pinned.’
‘OK.’ Isla gulped in air,
every breath an agony in itself, tried to keep her voice calm. ‘It’s OK, Ted. I can hear sirens. They’ll help Dougie. You just have to stay still, you could have hurt your neck…’
‘But Dougie needs help now! I can’t just sit here and listen to him die. Where the hell is everyone?’ It was Ted that needed reassurance now, Ted that needed the support as his colleague lay dying a few feet away. ‘Why the hell aren’t they doing anything?’
‘They’ll be here,’ Isla said with more conviction than she felt, watching the eerie glow from the emergency vehicle’s blue lights circling around her, listening to the shouts from outside, hearing the sirens and screaming and crying growing louder, but not loud enough to drown out the silence from Doug.
‘Dougie!’ Ted was shouting now, shouting and crying at the same time, and Isla could feel her own tears stinging her raw cheeks as Ted called louder. ‘Dougie, mate, hang in there.’ And then more urgently. ‘Isla, he’s not breathing. I can’t hear him breathing!’
It was the longest three minutes of her life.
Praying, waiting for help to arrive, for someone—anyone—to appear, to give Dougie the help he so desperately needed. It was sheer torture to lie in the remains of a fully stocked ambulance, to know that you were capable, more than capable of dealing with it, yet being able to do nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
‘He’s gone.’ Ted’s choked voice ended the vigil, and Isla nodded, more scared than she had ever been in her life. But the shot of adrenaline that had forced her into alertness was wearing off now, and as her eyes grew heavier, Isla knew she should struggle to keep them open, should fight to stay awake, fight the injuries that were dragging her towards oblivion, but right now the sweet release of unconsciousness was a far more palatable option.
‘We’re in!’ A loud shout snapped her back to consciousness, her hand shooting over her eyes as a bright torch shone directly down at her. ‘It’s OK, love.’ She couldn’t see the face of the person that was talking, but the voice was strong and steady and in control, and Isla felt herself relax a notch. ‘I’m Mike. I’m the chief firefighter, coordinating the rescue. We’re going to get you out just as soon as we can. Can you tell me your name?’
Emergency--A Marriage Worth Keeping Page 12
