Falling for Her Mediterranean Boss

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Falling for Her Mediterranean Boss Page 2

by Anne Fraser


  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll find her. You get out.’ She shoved Susan in the direction of the exit. Then she lifted the bottom of her T-shirt and covered her mouth. It wouldn’t be much protection against the smoke, but it might buy her a few minutes. Julie was relieved to hear sirens in the distance. The rescue services were on their way.

  The main dancing area was almost empty, most of the revellers having made it outside. However, even in the smoke-filled atmosphere Julie could make out at least two bodies lying on the floor. For a moment she hesitated. What should she do? Continue to look for Martha, or help the victims on the floor? The fire had already spread alarmingly in the short period of time she had been talking to Susan and tongues of crimson flames were now creeping towards the bodies. There was a good chance Martha was outside and safe. But unless she did something for the collapsed victims, they would be in danger of being consumed by the fire. She couldn’t afford to wait for the firefighters. Before she could act, her attention was drawn by movement towards the rear of the room. The DJ was trying desperately to beat out flames that were licking up his arms. For a moment their eyes held. Julie had never seen such abject terror before. His attempts to extinguish the flames were proving futile, and Julie could see that in the short time she had stood, horror-struck, they had spread from his arms across his chest. It was clear that unless someone did something, and quickly, the DJ would have no chance.

  Realising that she had only a few seconds at the most, she rushed towards him. She had only taken a couple of steps when felt herself yanked backwards. She was swung around to face Pierre.

  ‘I thought you were following me out!’ he said, his accent more evident than ever. Even in the dim, smoke-filled light Julie could see his eyes glinting with anger.

  She wrenched her arm out of his grasp.

  ‘Let me go!’ She pointed over to the DJ who had fallen to the floor. ‘I need to help him!’

  Pierre took in the situation at a glance. ‘You get the others, I’ll get him.’ Before Julie had a chance to protest he was moving towards the stricken man. Whipping off his jacket, he wrapped it around the DJ and rolled him around to smother the flames.

  Tearing her eyes away from the two men, Julie hurried over to the inert form of a female clubber lying on the floor. The girl was barely conscious and Julie knew she had to move her out of the reach of the fire. Blocking out the terrifying crackling of the flames, Julie put her arms under the girl’s armpits and started dragging her across the floor. It was hard going. The limp body was deadweight and the smoke was beginning to make breathing almost impossible. But then, just as she thought she could go no further, firemen in their full firefighting gear appeared and relieved Julie of her burden. Gesticulating towards the exit, it was clear that they were ordering Julie out of the building.

  ‘Help them!’ She pointed to the DJ and Pierre, her eyes streaming. Thank God, the flames that had been licking the DJ’s torso appeared to be almost out. Julie was finding it difficult to speak and her chest hurt. ‘And there’s someone else that needs help over there.’

  One of the firemen nodded and made for the other victim while another firefighter grasped her arm and propelled her out of the building. She tried to resist, not wanting to leave until she was sure Pierre and the other casualties were all right, but she was no match for the burly firefighter.

  Outside, the shock of freezing night air made Julie gasp. Bending over, she rested her hands on her knees for the few moments it took for her to stop coughing and for her eyes to stop streaming. Dazed, she looked up and could barely comprehend the scene before her. It was reminiscent of footage of disasters she had seen on television. At least four fire engines lit the area in swirling patterns of red and blue. Numerous clubbers stood around, looking shocked and bewildered. Several more were sitting on the ground, struggling for breath or sobbing quietly. Snow had started to fall in large wet drops, but everyone seemed oblivious to it. As her laboured breathing normalised, Pierre swept past her, carrying the unconscious figure of the DJ in his arms. In the moving beams of light from the emergency vehicles Julie could see that the DJ was badly burnt. Pierre would need her help. She quickly checked the other victims, breathing a sigh of relief that no one appeared seriously hurt. Leaving them, she hurried over to Pierre, who had laid the DJ down on a grassy verge a safe distance from the burning building. Swallowing her horror at the extent of the injured man’s burns, she dropped to her knees.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked Pierre as she searched for the DJ’s carotid pulse.

  Pierre glanced at her. ‘Go and get yourself checked out,’ he said roughly.

  ‘I’m okay,’ she fired back, shouting to make herself heard above the sounds of the sirens.

  He looked at her sharply, his blue eyes drilling into hers. ‘I don’t have time to argue,’ he said, lowering his head and beginning to breathe for his patient.

  Finding what she was looking for, a faint but discernible pulse, Julie knew that they had to get some oxygen into his lungs and some fluids into his veins as quickly as possible.

  ‘I’ll get help,’ she said, scrambling to her feet. ‘Someone must have emergency supplies.’ As she stood, an ambulance pulled up, its flashing blue lights adding to the red pulses of the fire engines, making it all seem even more surreal. Thank God, Julie thought. There was little she and Pierre could do for the DJ without medical equipment. Almost before the paramedics were out of the ambulance, Julie was by their side. She pointed to Pierre and the inert form of the DJ. ‘Over there! They need oxygen and a drip, and any other medical equipment you might have. Stat.’ The paramedics nodded and, gathering their loaded bags, rushed across to Pierre. Another couple of ambulances pulled up, their sirens cutting the cold night air, their occupants leaping out ready to offer aid.

  As Julie turned back towards Pierre, Susan and Richard ran across to her.

  ‘We’ve got Martha and everyone else. Are you all right?’ the young girl asked, her eyes wide. Then she burst into tears.

  ‘Hey, I’m fine.’ Julie assured them, grabbing hold of Richard’s arm. ‘Rich, get your friends together and move them to a safe position on the other side of the road. Stay there until someone checks all of you over. Okay?’

  Richard nodded and, taking the still sobbing Susan by the arm, moved away.

  Julie raced over to Pierre, who was still attending to his patient. ‘I’m back,’ she said quietly. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  Pierre looked up as his patient coughed and struggled for breath. Julie took an oxygen mask from one of the paramedics and placed it over the DJ’s mouth.

  Pierre was looking worried. ‘His throat is swelling,’ he said. ‘The oxygen won’t get to his lungs that way.’ He spoke a few words to one of the paramedics, who rushed back towards one of the ambulances. Then he turned to Julie. ‘There are two main problems with someone as badly burnt as our patient. Firstly, the swelling of his throat is restricting his breathing. I’ll need to do an emergency tracheostomy here—right now. If we leave it until we get him to hospital, it will be too late.’ The paramedic returned and Pierre began searching through the bag she had brought. In the meantime, Julie had taken the line and drip the paramedic had passed to her earlier and found an undamaged vein in the man’s groin to insert the cannula.

  ‘The other problem is that as we resuscitate him, his skin will also start to swell, becoming like leather squeezing tighter and tighter on his chest wall. As it constricts, it squeezes down on the chest, preventing the lungs from inflating properly.’ Pierre continued. ‘Once I’ve made the hole in his throat and we’re getting oxygen into his lungs, I may well have to make a few incisions into the skin on his chest.’ He seemed to have found what he was looking for in the bag, and a scalpel flashed in the light. He looked straight into Julie’s eyes. ‘I’m going to need you to help me. You’ll have to hold him steady. Can you do that? If you can’t, I need to know now.’

  Julie returned his look steadily. ‘Just tell me wha
t to do.’

  Whatever he saw in Julie’s eyes must have reassured him. He bent low over the injured man. ‘I’m going to do something that will help you breathe,’ he said. ‘I may have to cut into your chest. It won’t hurt, but I’ll give you something for the pain, and then we’ll get you to hospital.’

  He glanced at Julie and she could tell from his expression that he didn’t hold out much hope for the man on the ground. ‘He won’t be aware of what we’re doing,’ he said. Gently he tipped the man’s head backwards so the front of his neck stood out and he felt below the prominence of his Adam’s apple. Then swiftly, but confidently, he inserted the scalpel into the victim’s trachea. Julie used a sterile swab to dab away the blood, and then Pierre inserted a tube through the incision into the throat. ‘Bag him,’ he instructed Julie. She fixed an ambu-bag over the tube and squeezed air into the lungs. Within seconds Julie could see the colour seeping back into the victim’s face. But as Pierre had predicted, almost immediately his breathing started to become laboured again.

  ‘Merde!’ Pierre cursed. ‘It is as I thought. He will need an emergency escharotomy—where we incise the skin on his chest to help him. I hoped the tracheostomy would be enough until we got him to hospital.’ Once more he bent over the patient and, using the scalpel, scored two deep incisions across the chest. Immediately the skin parted, leaving deep furrows across the chest. To Julie the procedure seemed almost barbaric.

  Pierre glanced up and, catching her questioning look, said, ‘The burnt skin will have to be removed later once we are sure he is stable. He won’t have felt anything even if he was conscious as the nerve endings are too badly damaged. This way he has a better chance of survival.’

  ‘Does he?’ Julie whispered. ‘Does he have a chance, do you think?’

  ‘The extent of his burns…’He shook his head. ‘Well, they are bad. But I am hopeful. The sooner we get him to hospital the better. Let’s get him into an ambulance.’

  As the paramedics helped Julie and Pierre load the injured man onto a stretcher, Pierre said to Julie, ‘I need to go with him in the ambulance.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ she offered. ‘I just need to make sure the people I’m with are okay.’

  Pierre shook his head. ‘We can’t wait. He has to go now. Anyway, there is only room for one of us to go with him. And it is better that I go.’ He hesitated, glancing over Julie’s shoulder. ‘Could you do something for me?’

  Julie looked around. There were still four or five casualties needing medical attention but they were being attended to by paramedics. Furthermore, she could see a fluorescent jacket with ‘Doctor’ emblazoned on the back. It seemed as if her help here was no longer required.

  ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Just tell me what.’

  ‘Can you drive?’

  Julie was surprised at the question.

  ‘Yes,’

  ‘Do you have a car with you and have you been drinking?’

  ‘No and no,’ she replied.

  Pierre dug around in his pocket before pulling out a set of keys and pressing them into Julie’s hands. ‘I don’t like to ask you, but see that girl over there?’ He pointed to a young woman who was leaning against a wall, looking dazed. ‘She is my niece. It’s her I came to find here. She is alone. Please, could you take her home? See that she’s all right? Tell her that I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  He watched as his patient was loaded into the ambulance. Julie could see he was worried. For his patient, his niece, or both, Julie couldn’t be sure.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, a little reluctantly. She would much rather have followed up the patient in hospital. Perhaps assisted in Theatre—if the DJ made it that far. Still, she could hardly refuse her new boss’s request—and he was probably right about space in the ambulance. Besides, she did need to make Richard sure and his friends were reunited with their parents, who…she glanced at her watch…should be arriving to collect them any time now.

  ‘Thank you,’ Pierre said softly, just before the doors of the ambulance closed. ‘I owe you a favour,’

  As soon as the ambulance pulled away, with its lights flashing and siren blaring, Julie crossed over to Pierre’s niece. The girl looked up at Julie’s approach.

  ‘He’s gone to the hospital, then?’ The girl nodded in the direction of the departing ambulance. The words were slightly slurred. Had she been drinking? Julie wondered. Apart from that, and an ashen pallor to her skin, she looked okay.

  ‘Yes, he had to. He asked if I could take you home. He’s concerned about you. Are you okay? Has someone checked you over?’

  The girl took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘I’m fine. A bit shook up, but that’s all. I was outside when the alarms went off. Is the person in the ambulance going to be all right?’

  ‘I hope so,’ Julie said. ‘He’s getting the best possible care. I’m Julie, by the way.’ She held out her hand to the girl who shook it reluctantly.

  ‘Caroline,’ the girl replied shortly.

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting just a few minutes while I check on the guys I came with? Then I’ll drive you home.’ Julie said.

  ‘Whatever,’ the girl said. ‘But really you don’t have to take me home. I’m quite able to look after myself. Uncle Pierre treats me like a kid.’ Caroline’s mouth was set in a sullen line

  ‘Please,’ Julie said, ‘let’s just do as he asks. He’s my boss and if I don’t see you home I’ll be in trouble.’

  Caroline gave a loud theatrical sigh. ‘He’s such a bully. But okay—I’ll wait here for you.’

  It only took a couple of minutes for Julie to check on her young charges. Although still shocked, their fright was beginning to wear off and turn to excitement. Their parents had begun to arrive and, seeing that Richard’s parents had everything under control, Julie returned to Caroline. She was relieved to find that she had waited for her. Somehow she wouldn’t have put it past the girl to have sneaked off while her back was turned.

  ‘Do you know where your uncle’s car is parked?’ Julie asked. Caroline pointed in the direction of a low-slung sports car across the road. Julie whistled under her breath. She had always wanted to drive once of those. She grinned at Caroline.

  ‘He does have some pluses,’ she said, and Julie briefly caught a glimmer of a smile.

  ‘C’mon, then,’ she said. ‘Let’s get you home.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘WHERE to?’ Julie asked Caroline as she eased the car into the traffic. Although it was late, the city centre was busy with late-night partygoers, many of whom had come to investigate what was going on. Caroline named a street that made Julie gasp. It was commonly known as Millionaires’ Row by the locals.

  ‘Is that where your parents live?’ Julie glanced at Caroline and there was just enough light from the streetlamps for Julie to catch the wave of grief that crossed the girl’s features.

  ‘My parents are dead,’ Caroline said flatly. ‘They died in an accident.’

  Julie slid a hand across and briefly grasped the girl’s cold fingers in hers.

  ‘I am so sorry,’ she said. ‘I know what that feels like. I lost my mother a couple of years ago and my father a few months after.’ She still missed them both terribly. ‘When did it happen?’ she asked gently.

  ‘Just after Christmas,’ Caroline said softly.

  Only a few weeks ago, then. Julie knew how raw her grief would still be.

  ‘Do you have brothers or sisters?’

  ‘I’m an only child,’ Caroline responded.

  Just like me, then, Julie thought, already feeling herself drawn to the young woman. It seemed they had a lot in common.

  ‘It’s why Uncle Pierre has come to stay,’ Caroline continued after a pause. ‘He lives in France. He’s French, like my father is…was.’ Her breath was ragged as she corrected herself. ‘I told Pierre I was old enough to live by myself, but he wouldn’t have it. Said it was impossible.’ She pouted. ‘He hardly knows me and now he is here bossing me about—inter
fering in my life.’

  ‘But no one should be alone after such a terrible loss. I’m sure he just wants to help.’

  ‘He never bothered with us before. Dad was always asking him to come and visit, but he was always too busy. Eventually my parents went to visit him. And now they’re dead. If they hadn’t gone—if he had come to see them instead like he should have—they’d still be all right. He is so unbelievably selfish.’

  Julie was taken aback by the anger in Caroline’s voice. But then she remembered how after her accident, when she’d felt she had been robbed of everything she’d thought mattered, she too had been angry, pushing away everyone, even her parents. And when a few years later her parents had died, she had thought she could never feel happy again. She too had been angry with the world at first. It had seemed so unfair.

  ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Seventeen. I’ll be eighteen in a couple of months.’

  Julie was surprised. Made up as Caroline was, she could have easily passed for twenty—older even.

  ‘And you were out at the club by yourself?’

  ‘Pierre didn’t want me to go on my own. But he just doesn’t understand…’ She tailed off and looked out the window.

  ‘Go on,’ Julie prompted gently.

  ‘My friends would have come with me. They’re always asking me to go out with them. But even though they mean well, I get tired of their sympathy. They’re always asking how I am. Am I okay? How am I doing? But they just don’t get it—that all I want to do is forget. Just for a little while. Is that so awful?’

  ‘No,’ Julie said softly. ‘It’s not awful at all. Sometimes we all need to forget about stuff that hurts us.’

  ‘I slipped away when his back was turned.’ Caroline admitted. ‘I left him a note telling him where I was and not to worry about me. But he came after me anyway. So embarrassing to be treated like a kid.’

 

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