As they paced along the corridor she was aware of an odd sensation. At first she didn’t recognise it, it just seemed that the world might not be as bad a place as it had seemed a few minutes ago. There was promise in it. Then it struck her, so suddenly that for a moment she stopped walking. It was Ed Tremayne! He was…she was…she was attracted to him! This was ludicrous!
Her felt her stop, turned to her. ‘Everything OK?’
‘Just something I thought I had forgotten,’ she mumbled. ‘Nothing important.’
She tried to examine what she was feeling. It was just relief, she decided. There was something solid and dependable about Ed. Whatever attraction there was, it wasn’t sexual. Was it? But he was attractive—both physically and in his personality, And there was something hidden about him—she couldn’t work out quite what it was…
‘Which branch of the armed forces were you in, Ed?’ she asked, hoping her voice sounded normal.
He laughed. ‘How did you know that I’d been in the armed forces?’
That was an easy question to answer. ‘Well, there’s the short haircut. But more than that, I’ve had dealings with soldiers before. There’s something about the way they behave that I recognise. It’s the way they look round, assessing everything. Then the certainty that they are right. Often the way they are ready to take charge.’
A small smile. ‘So you expect me to take charge? Maddy, I’ve no intention of doing that. I’ve said it and I meant it—we’re partners. And I’ve always thought of myself as a doctor far more than a soldier. As to being certain that I’m right, well, no. I’ve been wrong, very wrong. And later I’ve realised it.’
His voice went quiet as he spoke, as if an unwelcome memory had flashed across his mind. For a moment she wondered what he was thinking, but she decided it wasn’t the right time to ask. ‘We all make mistakes,’ she said. ‘It’s part of the human condition.’
‘True.’ His voice was mild as he went on, ‘but I do have to own up. I am an ex-soldier and some of the happiest days of my life were when I was in the army.’ He paused a moment and then said, ‘But not necessarily because I was in the army.’
‘Right,’ she said.
CHAPTER THREE
ED HAD skimmed through her notes and decided that this was the patient he wanted to see first. She had been one of the earliest to fall ill, and her condition appeared to be one of the worst.
Miriam Jones was a widow of sixty-eight. She was not happy with her condition. ‘I paid a lot of money for this trip, Dr Tremayne,’ she said after Ed had introduced himself. ‘I do not take kindly to having to spend the last two days of it lying on a bed in my cabin.’
But her voice was weak. Maddy could see that a lot of the strength had gone out of someone who had previously been a tough lady. She was trying to survive—but she was failing.
Ed examined her. Maddy had already set up a giving set to get fluids into the patient but Ed suggested a more rapid rate of flow. He also prescribed a larger dose of the antibiotic that Maddy had already given her. Then he took Mrs Jones’s hand.
‘I’m not going to hide anything from you, Mrs Jones,’ he said. ‘You’re seriously ill. But I’ve got confidence in you, I know you’ve got the strength to pull through. And I know you won’t be as much trouble as some others we’re seeing.’
Mrs Jones’s pale face lit up. ‘No, I won’t,’ she said.
‘Then I’ll be in to see you later. Anything really serious, phone us.’
The next call was totally different. Miss Owen—the new Miss Owen, having previously been Mrs Dacre and now very satisfactorily divorced—had come on this cruise to ‘rebuild her confidence’. Contracting gastroenteritis had shaken this confidence.
Maddy saw Ed handle this patient in a totally different fashion. He joked with her. Even got a smile. And when they left the cabin, Miss Owen was a slightly happier person.
They worked their way through the rest of the cases. Most cabins were occupied by couples. Maddy noticed that when this was the case, Ed was as charming as ever with the sick person. But then he took the husband or wife to one side and had a quiet word with them. She managed to listen to one conversation and was intrigued by it. Ed’s words were partly reassurance and partly a clear statement of what he expected. Ed knew what the patients needed and was going to see that they got it.
Finally they had seen all the cases and were walking back to the medical centre to meet Nick again. Maddy felt that this was going to be a good partnership. ‘I’m glad you’ve come on board,’ she said. ‘I feel that things aren’t too bad now.’
He glanced at her, smiled. ‘So, for the moment, have you got over your bitterness at the military mind? Tell me, was it the army as a whole or one particular individual?’
This took her aback. Ed was an astute observer, far more perceptive than she had realised. ‘Sorry if I was a bit short with you,’ she muttered. ‘I’m sure we’ll work well together.’
She wasn’t going to answer his question about her being upset by one particular individual. She waited for him to ask again but he didn’t. He knew she didn’t want to answer and that made her even more cautious.
She didn’t want to reveal herself, to be vulnerable. And Ed was getting close to making her feel exposed.
They turned a corner and saw a mother and child coming towards them. The little boy, aged about seven, ran towards her, yelling, ‘Nurse Maddy! Look, I’m a pirate again.’
And a pirate little Robbie Cowley was. He flourished a large plastic cutlass, had a skull and crossbones on his large plastic hat. His T-shirt didn’t quite match, though. On it was the picture of a devil, cheerful rather than frightening. There was a dressing on his right arm.
Laughing, Maddy was about to pick him up then remembered where she had just been. The less contact between people the better.
‘Just stay there, Robbie,’ she said with a smile to reassure him. ‘There might be some nasty stuff on me.’ Then she turned to the mother and smiled. ‘Don’t tell me, Mrs Cowley, he’s still a handful.’
Mrs Cowley, a buxom blonde in her early thirties, smiled and shook her head. ‘I thought when he cut his arm that it would quieten him down a bit. You told him he had to be good, not to run around so much or he might hurt his arm even more. And he was good, didn’t run around. For about twenty minutes.’
‘That’s little boys for you,’ Maddy agreed. ‘You just have to be there with them all the time.’ She turned and said to Ed, ‘This is Mrs Cowley and her son Robbie. I’ve seen quite a bit of young Robbie.’ She twinkled at the little boy. ‘He’s been a regular customer—that devil on his T-shirt says it all.’
‘I’m a pirate now, not a devil,’ Robbie shouted. ‘What nasty stuff on you? I’ll hit it with my cutlass.’
Ed stopped a cutlass swing with his arm, and crouched down to face Robbie. ‘That’s a fine weapon you have there, Captain,’ he said, ‘and a fine hat, too. What’s the name of your ship?’
‘The Hisp…the Hisp thingy,’ Robbie said. ‘After Nurse Maddy had bandaged up my arm she read me a bit about it. It was good!’
‘She’s a good reader. I’ll get her to read to me. Now, you will be careful with that deadly weapon, won’t you?’
Maddy watched curiously. Ed had work to do but from his body language it was obvious that he was clearly taken with the little boy. There was regret in the way he straightened himself, became a doctor again.
‘I’m going to capture a ship,’ Robbie told him. ‘One of those white ones on the top deck.’
‘I wish you luck. A pirate’s life is a hard one.’
There was time for a few polite words with Mrs Cowley and then they moved back to the medical centre. ‘You seemed to quite take to Robbie,’ Maddy suggested.
‘Typical little boy. I like them.’ A clipped reply. ‘Is his father on board?’
‘There is no father. And Mrs Cowley has just been diagnosed with adult-onset diabetes. She has the pills, she knows—or she should know—how to con
trol her diet. But she relapses. I’ve kept an eye on her, tried to get her to discipline herself. But if you like eating then a cruise ship is the last thing you want to be on.’
‘So Mrs Cowley has spent quite some time resting in her cabin? And Robbie has been allowed to run riot?’
‘There are two big children’s playgrounds and staff always on duty. But no way can they keep track of every child. Robbie was trying to climb onto a lifeboat but he fell and gashed his arm. Before that he tumbled down some stairs and trapped his fingers in a door.’
‘But a cheerful child?’
‘He’s lovely,’ Maddy agreed.
There was a message from the captain waiting for them when they got back to the medical centre. The storm had got worse and the forecast was that over the next twelve hours it would get worse still. It would be extremely difficult, probably impossible, to try to move ill people from the ship to land. A helicopter landing was out of the question, a boat trip would be highly dangerous.
‘I don’t think we want to start moving old sick people anyway,’ Nick said, ‘but we’ll have to decide if it’s necessary. What do you think, Maddy, Ed?’
Maddy was pleased that she was included in the decision-making. But she decided to remain silent for a while. Perhaps she was too close to the problem.
‘It’s gastroenteritis all right,’ Ed said, ‘but it’s a very nasty strain. I still suspect it’s bacterial in origin.’
Nick shook his head. ‘We can’t be certain until I’ve done tests,’ he said. ‘I’ve collected samples, and we’ll know more when I’ve been inside the lab for a while.’
He looked at his son, a glance half compassionate, half assessing, Maddy thought. There was something here that she didn’t know about. And she wanted to know what.
‘We’re agreed that Maddy needs help—that one of us should stay aboard?’
‘We’re agreed. There’s just too much work for one person. And I’m the obvious one to stay.’
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’ Nick asked.
‘I’ll be fine.’
Another silence. Maddy wondered what was happening. There seemed to be some silent exchange of messages between the two men. She could read it in their body language. Nick was relaxed, trying to be helpful. Ed had the taut look of a man who was expecting an argument. Finally Nick said, ‘Right, then. Still, remember, a good doctor will ask for help if he needs it. Now I’m going to see the captain, explain the situation and tell him what we think it’s best to do. Then the final decision will be his. But unless he objects, Ed, you stay, do what you can, and remember that the next twelve to twenty-four hours will be the hardest.’
‘I’ve dealt with that before,’ Ed said.
‘Good. Oh, the patients I’ve just seen, there’s one, a Mr Simmonds. He’s got gastroenteritis all right and I’ve given him a thorough examination—he’s an old man but there’s nothing seriously wrong with him. Nothing physical, that is.’
‘But mentally?’ Ed asked.
‘Well, I noticed he’s on antidepressants—mild ones. When I asked him about them he said they did little good, he’d stopped taking them and he felt better. But…I’ve got a feeling about the man.’
Ed shook his head. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him,’ he said, ‘but I suspect there’ll be nothing we can do. We just have to hope.’
‘Sometimes that’s all a doctor can do,’ his father said. Then he turned to Maddy. ‘Been good to see you, Maddy. Hope you and Ed get on well together. I’ve every confidence in the pair of you.’ And then he was gone.
Maddy and Ed looked at each other. ‘This morning we didn’t even know the other one existed,’ Maddy said hesitantly, ‘and now we’re thrown together like this.’
‘Strange, how things happen. But I’m looking forward to working with you. Getting to know you better.’
That was a statement that could be taken more than one way, Maddy thought. But as they looked at each other he didn’t say anything more. There seemed to be some kind of understanding flowing between them that, just for the moment, didn’t need words. His blue eyes stared at her. She could see puzzlement there, as if he didn’t really know what he was feeling. But finally he jerked them back into the present.
‘Let’s get started,’ he said. ‘Now, are there any scrubs I could borrow?’
She pointed to a cupboard. ‘One thing about being on a cruise ship, the laundry is done fast and well.’
‘It’s going to need to be that way,’ Ed said. ‘During a gastroenteritis outbreak, cleanliness is all important. Now we need to see what resources we—’
The phone rang. Maddy picked up the receiver, listened for a moment. ‘Cabin B52? We’ll be right there.’ She looked at Ed. ‘Another case. It’s going to be like this nonstop now, isn’t it?’
‘It is. And there’s your regular work, too.’ He smiled again. ‘But we’ll manage together.’
He decided to change into scrubs before they set off.
When he came back in the green shapeless garments she noticed the muscles on his forearms. And she noticed something else. He was wearing a wedding ring.
For some reason she was disappointed, which was silly. She should have known. A good-looking man like Ed would obviously be married. He would have been snapped up years ago. What was she thinking of? Anyway, she was off men. It was foolish on her part, harbouring even the smallest feeling for him. They were just colleagues for a while.
They went to Cabin B52 and examined the patient—a man this time. There was the usual initial assessment. A high temperature suggested bacterial infection rather than viral. Hypotension—low blood pressure—was another indicator. There would be tachycardia—a fast pulse, and often it would be thready. The most obvious signs were of dehydration. A dry mouth, no tears, skin that tented when it was pinched, poor capillary return, tested by pinching the fingernails. There would be mild discomfort to the abdomen—but it didn’t get worse when palpated. Either she or Ed would take a blood sample and test it in the medical centre.
And there was always the chance that it could be some other condition. It would be foolish to assume that any illness was automatically gastroenteritis.
To avoid dehydration each patient had to be given a saline and dextrose IV line. The amount given depended on physical state, body weight and the blood count. Since Ed had decided that this was a bacterial infection, not a viral one, antibiotics could be used. But the kind and the amount and the frequency depended on the patient’s state. And the seriousness of the attack. Some people were more susceptible than others.
As before, after this assessment Ed spoke to the man’s partner and told her what to expect, what to do. Again, as before, Maddy was impressed by the clear way he spoke, by the manner in which he made it clear that he expected his suggestions to be carried out. The passengers certainly seemed calmed by him.
But Maddy still felt a little unsettled. Working with Ed was not as satisfying as it had been before.
As they walked back to the medical centre she asked, as casually as she could, ‘Ed, will your wife mind you being away for a while?’
‘Why do you think I have a wife?’ The question was abrupt, hostile even.
‘Well, it’s just that I saw you were wearing a wedding ring. I’m sorry if I upset you.’
‘You didn’t upset me.’ But his tone contradicted his words. ‘My wife is dead.’
She wondered if he was going to say any more, then wondered if she ought to say she was sorry again. But he said nothing, pacing more quickly down the corridor so she had to hurry to keep up with him.
Obviously she had upset him. She wondered if all relationships had to result in pain.
When they got back to the medical centre Ed became his normal efficient self again. ‘We know the situation is going to deteriorate,’ he said, ‘and we need to get on top of it now. I’d like to check on all supplies. If necessary, we might have to get in some more. Somehow.’
‘I’ll write out an inventory of t
he most needed drugs,’ Maddy said, ‘we can mark them off as we use them, so we know when we’re getting low.’
‘Good idea. And shall we have a list of the stewards we can call on and work out a rota? If you want to pencil in any personal comments, I’ll see them but they’ll go no further.’
‘You’ve done this kind of thing before, haven’t you?’ she asked.
‘I have.’
She noticed he didn’t give her any details. For a moment there was a hunted look on his face, as if there was a painful memory. But when he spoke he was as clear and forceful as ever. ‘What’s very useful is to have a wall chart, marking off each patient we have, the stage of development of the illness, the treatment. It’s important that we can see at a glance just what the situation is. A set of patient’s notes that you have to page through just isn’t good enough.’ He thought for a moment. ‘In fact, could we have a steward or someone in here to act as ward secretary?’
‘I’ll phone the captain, see if he can find someone for us. I’m sure he will.’
‘Good. Is there anything special that you—?’
The phone rang again. This tine it was Ed who answered it, who took the number of the cabin and then said, ‘I’ll be right there.’
He looked at Maddy. ‘Looks like another case. I’ll take this one on my own—you’ve got plenty to do here organising the logistics of this operation. I’ll be back to liaise as soon as I can.’
Back to liaise? Maddy thought as soon as he had gone. Had she joined the army without knowing it? Then she realised. Everything Ed had done made perfect sense. This was an emergency and he was treating it as such. He was concerned about the welfare of his patients. Then she remembered something else. There had been a set expression on his face as he’d talked about the organisation necessary. As if this was—or had been—painful. What was he hiding?
She had finished the paperwork when he returned and told him that the captain was sending them down a purser’s assistant to act as ward clerk. He nodded approvingly. ‘I hate paperwork,’ he said, ‘but I know it’s vital to keep it up. Now we can concentrate on the important work. Maddy, did you tell me that you thought that one of your patients had a TIA this morning?’
Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 2 Page 20
