The voice of the paramedic telling Judy about the patient was a background blur of sound, only partially com pre hen sible.
‘…seventy-two-year-old woman…. Parkside Rest Home… Advanced Alzheimer’s…’
Kate hadn’t set eyes on this man for six months. No one had. Rory McCulloch had simply vanished. One minute he’d been the senior consultant of this very department and the next he had been…gone.
The day after she’d… After they’d…
‘Query urinary tract infection,’ the paramedic was telling Judy now. ‘She’s tachycardic with a heart rate of one twenty. Pyrexic—temperature’s thirty-nine.’
The woman being discussed made an alarmed cry, and Rory looked away from Kate. He stepped forward to touch the woman. A gentle touch on her forehead, smoothing long strands of nearly white hair from her face. It was an action that spoke of familiarity and deep affection.
‘She’s more confused than usual,’ he said to Judy. ‘And she’s had quite severe abdominal pain. She had five milligrams of morphine, but I’m not convinced it’s reduced the pain scale significantly.’
Judy’s jaw had dropped as she turned her gaze to the speaker.
‘Dr McCulloch! It is you! Oh…my goodness. You’re back!’
‘Briefly,’ he conceded. ‘This is my mother—Marcella.’
‘Oh…’ Judy was looking around the department now, as though searching for a suitably senior staff member to take charge of this case. ‘Let’s put Mrs McCulloch in Resus 2,’ she told the paramedics. ‘We’re quiet enough for the moment.’
The triage nurse was so flustered she didn’t even notice she’d uttered the banned Q word. The stretcher lurched into movement, but then stopped as the woman cried out again in fright.
‘Jamie! Where are you?’ Then her tone changed to one of terror. The language also changed and became a frantic babble. What was she speaking? Was Rory’s mother Italian?
That might explain why Rory had never looked as Scottish as his name and the slight lilt of his voice suggested. Why his hair was so dark and his skin so olive and his eyes that amazing chocolate-brown.
Rory took a stride to catch up with the stretcher, his face set in lines so grim it took Kate straight back to that night. The night before he’d disappeared. Her heart gave the same kind of squeeze it had then. A kind of pain. Wanting to know what was so wrong.
Wanting to make it better.
He took his mother’s hand, saying something soothing in the same language, but she clung to him, tears coursing down a face so lined it made her look much older than she apparently was.
‘Jamie,’ she sobbed. ‘Dio mio… Don’t leave me!’
‘I won’t,’ he said. ‘Shh, now, Mamma. It’s all right.’
Judy frowned. ‘Why—?’
A quick glance from Rory coupled with a tiny shake of his head was enough to stop the obvious question. The triage nurse regrouped.
‘Kate, have you got all the information you need?’
Kate finally looked at the copy of the paperwork the ambulance crew had left on the desk in front of her. She scanned the details.
‘Is the Parkside Rest Home her permanent address?’
‘Yes.’ The word was clipped and gave nothing away about whether Rory was happy with where his mother resided.
‘Has she had any recent admissions to hospital?’
‘Not that I’ve been informed about. I’ve been out of the country for six months.’
‘Yes.’ Kate’s mouth felt dry. ‘So you have.’
She couldn’t help looking up to catch his gaze, and then she couldn’t look away. Was there a message there? Remorse? An apology?
No. But there was something. An intensity that made her feel as flustered as poor Judy had been when she’d tempted fate by uttering the Q word.
‘I’ll come and talk to you if I find I need anything else,’ she said, dropping her gaze.
Rory gave a curt nod at the dismissal and followed the stretcher into one of the well-equipped resuscitation bays.
Hopefully she wouldn’t need anything else. If she had to get up from this chair and move beyond the screen of the counter he would realise why she wasn’t on active duty tonight. The bagginess of the tunic top of her uniform was no longer enough to disguise her impressive bump.
Her heart was racing as she considered the implications. This was no way to learn of impending fatherhood. What would he say? Would he be angry that she hadn’t told him earlier? A lot, lot earlier?
But how could she have when he’d simply vanished? Resigned from his job and walked away without leaving even a forwarding address. People had talked about it for weeks. Made jokes about interplanetary abductions. Asked, far more seriously, where Dr Rory McCulloch could possibly have needed to go in such a hurry. And why?
Maybe some of those questions would be answered tonight. Word was spreading fast. Kate saw the man who was now in charge of the department, Braden Foster, shaking Rory’s hand and greeting him like a long-lost friend. Nurses were flocking to the bay, vying for the privilege of caring for his mother. Somethings certainly hadn’t changed. Even Judy had gravitated in that direction, leaving Kate alone at the desk.
The prettiest nurses had always made themselves available to Rory McCulloch in the two years Kate had worked in St Bethel’s. She had always been in the background. A bit short and round and plain. Just like her name. Nondescript. Invisible.
Until that amazing night…
The radio behind the desk crackled into life and Kate reached for the microphone.
‘St Bethel’s—emergency department,’ she responded. ‘Receiving you loud and clear.’
‘How are you placed for multiple casualties?’
Kate didn’t need to look around to know how ‘restful’ the department was. ‘How many?’ she queried briskly. ‘And what status?’
‘We’ve got a mini-bus from the Castle that’s gone down a bank.’
‘Oh, my God!’ Kate couldn’t help the un professional response. The Castle was actually an old stone house just a few miles from St Bethel’s on the out skirts of London. Its owner, Mary Ballantyne, had been well-known in the district for many years, welcoming all the orphans and foster children she could manage into her home. It had been one of ‘her’ children, so impressed with his new accommodation, who had announced he was now living in a castle, and the name had stuck. The house—and Mary—were a local legend.
‘Ten children on board,’ the voice of the person from the emergency services continued. ‘And Mary was driving. Maybe half of them are injured, and a couple look serious, but we haven’t ex tri cated everybody yet. It would be preferable if we could bring them all to the same hospital, and St Bethel’s is closest.’
‘Of course.’ Kate took a deep breath. ‘Bring them here. We’ll be ready.’
They would be—but Kate’s first task was to alert the trauma team, who would clear the resuscitation bays, gather equipment and put the other staff on standby.
To do that she had to tell Braden Foster what was happening, and the department’s head consultant was still talking to Rory about his mother.
There was no time to consider the implications. Kate stood up and moved from behind the shelter of her desk. She walked into Resus 2.
‘Dr Foster? There’s a multiple casualty incident in progress on the motorway and we’re the closest casualty department.’
Both men in front of her were staring. Braden Foster was looking at her face.
‘How many?’
‘Possibly eleven. The mini-bus from the Castle has gone over a bank.’
Judy’s voice carried to the now silent staff around them, and it was an echo of Kate’s reaction to the news.
‘Oh, my God! On Christmas Eve? That’s awful!’
‘Put Mrs McCulloch in one of the cubicles,’ Dr Foster ordered. ‘Let’s get her bloods off and a urine specimen before we get too busy. Put out a call for everyone in the trauma team, would you, please, Kate?’
Kate held his gaze for just a heartbeat as she watched his mental calculations. Remembering dates. Counting weeks.
Yes, she told him silently. I’m just over six months pregnant.
And you’re the father.
CHAPTER TWO
SHE WAS PREGNANT .
No wonder she had looked different when he’d seen her sitting at the desk. Rounder. Softer. The soft waves of her hair that almost touched her shoulders had been catching the light and shining like a golden halo. If it was true that pregnancy gave all women a special glow, then Kate had turned it up a notch. She shone as brightly as the light at the end of a very long tunnel.
The way he had remembered her being anyway—but she was pregnant.
Enormously pregnant. Way more than six months along, so she must have already been pregnant that night.
And that hurt, dammit, because the memory of that night had been the single bright note in those first dark weeks.
Rory had to help hold his mother’s arm still while blood was drawn for the necessary tests. And the in ser tion of a catheter was the only way they’d be able to obtain a urine specimen from a patient who couldn’t co-operate because she had no understanding of where she was. Or why. It was a miserable but mercifully short period of time.
‘It’s all right, Mamma. It’ll be over soon. You’re being brave.’
He managed to keep up a stream of soothing words, in both English and his mother’s native Italian, even as he reeled from the shock of seeing Kate’s condition—as unexpected as it had been to be bringing his only living relative here tonight.
He hadn’t questioned the destination. He’d already made the demand for extra medical attention for his mother and, given that he no longer carried any authority within this medical hierarchy, it had seemed prudent to put up with what might be a difficult time revisiting St Bethel’s. If he was honest, part of him really wanted the opportunity to see Kate Simpson again, but he’d been wary. He knew quite well he might have made her into something she wasn’t.
A life-saver.
Some kind of saint. An angel, even.
He’d known he’d have to face the probability that she wasn’t all that he had built her up to be in his head—and his heart. But not like this. Not this slap in the face that told him she’d been already pregnant by another man that night. That her words and her touch and the…love he’d felt had not been genuine.
As if it wasn’t bad enough to have his mother’s illness tipping her to a place where she was convinced that her prayers had been answered and she had her precious Jamie with her again. Now Rory also had to deal with the most precious thing he’d had in his life for the last six months being exposed as a fraud. As a dream that had no basis in reality.
The tiny Christmas tree on the central desk, beside a donation box for some worthy cause, caught Rory’s eye as he slumped farther into the chair beside his mother’s bed when the blood test had been completed. He closed his eyes for a moment as he put a hand to his forehead and pressed on both temples—his thumb on one side of his head, his middle finger on the other side.
Merry Christmas, he told himself bitterly.
Merry bloody Christmas!
HE LOOKED AS THOUGH he was wishing himself a million miles away from this place.
Why? Because he had to face the prospect of fatherhood? Of her being the mother of his children?
Well, tough! Kate’s face tightened as she moved swiftly past the cubicle the McCullochs were in, making her way to join Judy as she spotted the arrival of the first ambulance from the scene of the accident involving the mini-bus full of children. Two stretchers and some ambulatory patients were being ushered into the department by paramedics and police officers.
It was probably all for the best that she had no choice but to ignore Rory and his distress right now. He needed time. She’d had more than enough to get her head around the new direction her life was going in, and she’d come to terms with it. More than accepted it. She already loved these babies. Passionately.
That love was comforting to remember. Empowering. And for the first time Kate realised she actually had the advantage. In a neat twist of fate, she wasn’t going to be in the background, watching other women claim Rory’s attention. Eventually he was going to have to seek her out so that they could talk about this. Or she would find him. It didn’t matter, because she was in control.
It was something that might have thrown her completely six months ago, but Lord knows she’d had more than enough practice in discriminating between fantasy and reality. She was an expert. There was no danger of having that control undermined by any hope that her situation would magically change.
Hope got crushed.
It was only when you removed the fuel from unrequited love that it had any chance of burning out.
And the easiest way to remove it was to focus on something else entirely.
Like the teenaged girl on one of the stretchers. Her lower leg was splinted and propped up on a pillow. One arm was also splinted and in a sling. She was sobbing hysterically.
‘This is Helen,’ a paramedic informed them. ‘She’s sixteen years old and has a fractured right tib and fib and a Colles’ fracture of her right wrist.’
‘Vital signs?’
‘All within normal limits.’
‘Resus 3,’ Judy directed.
‘Noooo,’ the girl sobbed. ‘Don’t take me away from Danni.’
Judy was already moving to the second stretcher as she did her job of triage.
‘Who’s Danni?’ Kate queried.
‘This is. Danielle.’ An older woman was standing beside a policewoman. She had a pale face and a bloodstained bandage on her head. She was holding a wailing toddler. ‘She’s Helen’s baby.’
‘Is she injured?’
‘They didn’t think so at the scene,’ the police woman responded. ‘And Florence insisted she was OK to come with her.’
Kate eyed the older woman. ‘You know these children?’
‘Yes. I’m the housekeeper up at the Castle.’
‘Great. You’ll be able to help me with the information I’ll need.’ Kate was all too aware of the need to start gathering that information and filling in paperwork before it got out of hand with this influx of new arrivals.
Another paramedic was handing a new case to Judy, just behind her.
‘Wally’s twelve and he was KO’ed. Unconscious for possibly ten minutes. Responsive, but his GCS is down to thirteen. Repetitive speech pattern and some nausea.’
‘Wally?’ Judy crouched beside the boy, who lay flat on his back with a hard collar protecting his neck. ‘Do you know where you are, love?’
‘We’ve been at a party.’ A white grin appeared in a very dark small face. ‘Christmas. Da-da-da… Da-da-da…’
It was a tuneless ren di tion of what sounded like ‘Jingle Bells’. Judy caught Kate’s glance and they smiled.
‘Resus 4,’ Judy directed, with another glance at Kate, who nodded. Resus 1 needed to be kept free in case more seriously injured victims arrived.
Helen was still sobbing, and the ambulance crew were unsure of whether to increase her distress by separating her from her child.
Kate crouched down, which was no easy task these days. She had to catch the bar on the side of the stretcher to keep her balance.
‘The doctors need to take care of you,’ she told the girl. ‘And we’re going to take very good care of Danni for you.’
‘Is she all right?’ Helen grabbed Kate with her un injured hand. ‘Oh…God! I couldn’t hold onto her, and I tried… I really tried…’
‘I know, sweetheart,’ Kate said. ‘We’ll check her out thoroughly. Try not to worry. You need to trust us.’ She squeezed Helen’s hand. ‘Can you d
o that, do you think?’
There was anguish in the girl’s eyes, but she nodded. What choice did she have? The poor girl was hardly more than a child herself, but the bond she had with her baby was palpable. It wasn’t helping either of them to be hearing the other sobbing so miserably.
‘Good girl.’ Kate smiled. ‘Now, take a deep breath for me. And another one.’
Helen complied, controlling her sobs with difficulty. ‘I—I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t have anything to be sorry for.’ Kate gave her hand another squeeze before heaving herself upright again. ‘Let the doctors take care of you, and we’ll have you back together with your little girl just as soon as we can, OK?’
Helen nodded again, her lips clamped shut on another sob as she was wheeled away. Wally was still singing as he was taken to the team waiting to assess and treat him.
‘Could you put Florence and Danni into a cubicle, please, Kate?’ Judy was writing furiously on the big white-board, putting the names of the patients into boxes that would track where they were and what treatment was underway. ‘I’ll find a doctor to come and see them. Oh, and could you check on Mrs McCulloch? Do her vitals if you get a chance. I think her nurse is caught up in resus now. I’ll try and get someone in to cover the paperwork.’
An empty stretcher was on its way back to the desk. ‘You can expect the next ambulance in about ten minutes,’ a paramedic said. ‘Possibly longer. The driver and another child were still trapped when we left. The fire service is working on getting them out.’
IT WASN’T SO MUCH of a shock being close to Rory this time. Her skin still prickled, and there was that odd feeling deep inside her belly that had nothing to do with any movement from all those tiny limbs in there, but Kate could cope.
She had to.
She fitted a clean earpiece to the tympanic thermometer. ‘So, your mother’s Italian?’
‘Yes.’
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