Twice as Good

by Alison Roberts

  Janet almost groaned aloud. She stared at Jamie, feeling like a rabbit caught in an oncoming car’s headlights. He smiled back at her innocently.

  ‘I’ll certainly give the idea some consideration,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I wouldn’t want to outstay my welcome, though.’

  Janet tore her gaze away. What welcome? she thought dourly. Poking a teabag into her mug, she drowned it with boiling water. She barely heard Oliver excuse himself as she added milk and sugar to her drink. It was only when she went to sit down that Janet realised she was alone with Jamie. She stopped short and picked up her mug again, her eyes on the door as she planned her retreat to the treatment room.

  ‘Sit down, Janet,’ Jamie invited.

  ‘I’m a bit busy, actually.’

  ‘No, you’re not. It’s nice and quiet out there.’ Jamie was watching her closely. ‘Sit down. I think I owe you a bit of an apology.’

  Janet was startled into compliance. She sat.

  ‘I was angry when I thought you didn’t trust me to deal with your pregnant patient, but Oliver has explained her history and I can see why you were concerned.’ Jamie smiled a little sheepishly. ‘I must admit I was also a bit thrown to discover you had children. Somehow I just hadn’t expected it. I don’t know why. You’re quite right—it’s none of my business. We said we’d forgive and forget.’

  ‘You said that, not me,’ Janet said quietly.

  ‘Let’s start again, shall we?’ Jamie suggested. ‘As in, fancy meeting you here, Janet. What’s been happening since I last saw you?’ Jamie smiled winningly. ‘I am interested, you know.’

  ‘Why?’ Janet asked desperately. ‘Why do you want to know? Why did you come here, Jamie? Did you know I was here?’

  ‘Not precisely. I knew you’d come to New Zealand to visit your sister. Your friend told me. What was her name? Sharon? Shelley?’

  ‘Sharlene,’ Janet muttered.

  ‘That’s right. Sharlene. How could I forget?’

  ‘How could you indeed?’ Janet flashed Jamie a bitter glance but Jamie merely shrugged.

  ‘Water under the bridge now. Anyway, London was just what I needed at the time. A big hospital, lots of hard work and all the distractions a big city could provide.’

  Janet snorted. What had he needed distraction from?

  Jamie nodded at her disparaging sound. ‘That’s exactly how I felt after a couple of years. I decided that maybe I didn’t want to specialise after all. I wanted to get out of hospital life and into a community. Maybe something small and rural with a few windswept hills and a sea view.’ Jamie paused. ‘I often used to remember Iona and how peaceful it was,’ he said softly. ‘Did you?’

  Janet took a large gulp of scalding tea. She did not want to discuss the island of Iona.

  Jamie shrugged. ‘I ended up in a rural practice in the Midlands which wasn’t quite what I’d had in mind. Then I went back to Glasgow. I got a job in a practice in Hillhead, just a wee way from the Western Infirmary.’

  ‘Did you?’ Janet tried to sound politely interested. Her voice had enough of an edge to let Jamie know she had no desire to discuss that particular area either. She took a more cautious sip of her drink.

  ‘I started going to that pub on the corner of Byres Road. Remember it?’

  ‘Not really.’ Janet’s heart was hammering. The pub where they had shouted their love for each other. Where they’d only had half a drink to celebrate the start of their planned future together.

  ‘Oh.’ Jamie sounded disappointed. ‘Anyway, I met an O and G registrar from the Western there quite often. He came from New Zealand and told me a lot about the country. I started to get interested. He came from Christchurch and he made the South Island sound far more attractive than up north. Larger and less populated, with vast areas of unspoilt natural beauty. Made me think it would be like Iona—on a grand scale.’

  ‘So you decided to emigrate? Just like that?’

  ‘Not at all. I spent a long time thinking about it. Not emigrating—just a working holiday.’ Jamie beamed at Janet. ‘And here I am. OK, your turn.’

  Janet ignored the invitation. ‘So you didn’t know I was here?’

  ‘How could I? I haven’t seen any of your friends for years.’

  Janet twisted a curl of her hair in her fingers. She kept her eyes on the table. ‘Would you have come—if you had known?’

  Jamie was silent long enough for Janet to look up. His brown eyes held her gaze. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I think perhaps I would have.’

  Janet swallowed painfully. There was no sinister motive for Jamie’s arrival here. He had accepted that her children had been fathered by someone else. Did that mean he genuinely still found something attractive about her? Did she want him to?

  ‘I’d better get on,’ she said hurriedly. ‘We’ve probably got a whole bunch of patients waiting by now.’

  Janet could feel Jamie’s gaze following her as she rinsed out her mug and left the room. The conversation with Jamie had raised more questions than it had answered. Why was Sharlene water under the bridge and had Jamie really been unable to remember her name? Why had Jamie been obsessed with images of Iona? Above all, why would he still have wanted to come if he’d known she was here? Even framing the question, it gave Janet a peculiar sensation that could almost be excitement. Fortunately, she had no time to ponder. Someone needing attention was waiting in the treatment room.

  Mary Todd was a young woman who lived next door to St David’s. Janet spoke to her for only a minute, before ducking out to the main office. Jamie was in there. He was picking up the file for his next patient, Taylor Langdon, a young Down’s syndrome girl. Janet touched his arm.

  ‘Have you got a minute, Jamie?’

  ‘Of course.’ Jamie glanced at her keenly. ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘I’ve got Mary Todd in the treatment room. She lives next door and she was stung by a bee about ten minutes ago. She’s feeling a bit odd. Could you have a look at her, please?’

  ‘Does she have a known allergy?’

  ‘No.’ Janet was ahead of Jamie, moving fast. ‘But she’s itchy all over now and says her breathing feels a bit tight.’

  ‘Hello, Mary. I’m Dr McFadden.’ Jamie moved with deceptive calm as he unhooked his stethoscope from around his neck. ‘You had a wee argument with a bee, I understand.’

  Mary nodded. ‘I feel sick, Dr McFadden. I’ve got terrible cramps in my stomach.’

  Jamie had lifted the back of the woman’s T-shirt to position the stethoscope. He glanced at Janet who was lifting a cardboard vomit container from her cupboard. ‘Draw up .5 milligrams of adrenaline, would you, Janet? Intramuscular.’

  Janet’s hands were shaking slightly as she cracked the ampoule of adrenaline and slotted a needle into its neck. If Mary was having an anaphylactic reaction to the bee venom, then this could be a serious emergency. Jamie took the syringe from the kidney dish and then raised an eyebrow questioningly.

  ‘Och, sorry.’ Janet whirled around to pick up the empty ampoule from the bench so Jamie could check that the medication was the correct one. Had she checked the expiry date? Janet felt a cold prickle of perspiration break out on her back. Of course she had. Why did she feel such an unusual lack of confidence?

  ‘Let’s have some oxygen, Janet,’ Jamie suggested, as he injected the adrenaline into Mary’s arm. His hand ran down the woman’s arm and Janet could see that urticarial lumps had formed. Another sign of a severe allergic reaction.

  Janet picked up the cardboard container as Mary retched but Jamie plucked it from her hand. ‘The oxygen,’ he reminded her. ‘High flow. Have you got a nebuliser mask?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Janet could hear the wheeze Mary was producing between the coughs which had replaced the retching. She fumbled to open the plastic bag containing the mask. Jamie took the packaging from her.

  ‘You’re doing fine,’ he said quietly. ‘Dilute 2 milligrams of adrenaline with 4 mililitres of saline for the mask and then draw up
another intramuscular dose.’

  This time Jamie only gave the ampoule a cursory glance before adding the medication to the attachment on the mask. Mary was still sitting up on the bed, leaning forward. Her breathing sounded even more laboured. She looked up at Janet.

  ‘I’m going to die,’ she said desperately. ‘I can’t breathe!’

  Jamie touched the swelling Janet could see around Mary’s eyes. ‘You’re going to be fine, Mary. Just concentrate on your breathing.’ Jamie still appeared perfectly calm. ‘Try and get a blood pressure for me, Janet. Where do you keep your angiocaths?’

  ‘I’ll get one.’ Janet pulled open a drawer. ‘What gauge do you want?’

  ‘Wide bore. A fourteen if you have one.’

  Janet handed him the IV cannula, a tourniquet and antiseptic wipes. Then she wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around Mary’s other arm.

  ‘One-oh-five over sixty-five,’ she reported.

  Jamie had the needle poised over Mary’s vein. He nodded briefly. ‘You’ll feel a bit of a stab here, Mary. Hang on. You’re doing really well.’

  Janet was impressed by the skill Jamie demonstrated in inserting the wide bore IV line. She had a saline flush ready in a syringe as Jamie attached the plug to the line. Then she uncurled the tubing of the IV giving set, inserting the sharp point into the port on the bag of fluid. Mary was sounding worse, despite the medication, and Janet bit her lip as Jamie helped Mary lie flat on the bed, her level of consciousness clearly dropping.

  ‘Get Oliver, would you, please, Janet?’

  Oliver abandoned his patient instantly. Janet paused only briefly by the front office. ‘Call an ambulance, please, Sandy.’

  Sandy’s face paled. ‘Not again!’

  ‘Tell them we have a severe anaphylactic reaction,’ Janet instructed. ‘It’s urgent.’ She shut the door of the treatment room behind her. Sandy would have to cope. She herself was needed in here.

  ‘I’ve just given her some IV adrenaline.’ Jamie had his hand on Mary’s wrist. ‘She’s throwing off a few ectopic beats.’

  ‘Hook up the life-pack monitor, Janet,’ Oliver instructed. He turned back to Jamie. ‘I think we’d better intubate her. Are you happy to do that?’

  Jamie nodded. He caught Janet’s eye as she unwrapped the sterile pack containing the equipment needed. The glance seemed to convey the message that Oliver, at least, trusted Jamie. It also conveyed a question. Did she?

  ‘What size tube do you want, Jamie?’ Janet queried briskly. ‘A 7.5?’

  ‘Thanks.’ Jamie picked up the laryngoscope and fitted on the blade. He reached for the tube Janet was holding only seconds later. His brief smile was appreciative. Of what? Janet wondered. Her ability to assist in an emergency? Or the fact that she obviously trusted his professional skill?

  The trust had been well placed. By the time the paramedics arrived Mary’s condition was stable enough to transfer her to hospital. Oliver went with her, leaving Jamie to cope with the queue that Sandy had accumulated.

  Janet moved into high gear. She knew most of these patients and could fill Jamie in on their histories more quickly than reading their notes could have done. She could see them first, taking blood pressures, ECGs and eliciting details of problems which could then be relayed concisely to Jamie for investigation. They started with young Taylor Langdon who needed any illness monitored carefully because of her congenital heart problems. Between them, they saw twelve patients by the time Oliver returned an hour and a half later. He had Sophie with him.

  ‘Look who I found at the hospital.’ He smiled. ‘I thought we might be in dire need of her assistance.’

  ‘And the waiting room’s empty,’ Sophie said accusingly. ‘What did you do? Put up a ‘‘Closed’’ sign?’

  ‘Janet and I worked like a well oiled machine,’ Jamie told them. ‘There’s nothing we can’t cope with, is there, Janet?’

  ‘No.’ Janet was still feeling exhilarated by the fast pace she’d been working at. Jamie was right. Things had gone incredibly smoothly and they had worked very well together. Something had clicked—professionally, at least. Of necessity, they’d established a rapport which had enabled them to trust each other’s judgement. It was surprising how good it felt. Janet’s grin was directed at Jamie before she turned it on her colleagues. ‘You two can go and have a second honeymoon. We’ll look after the shop.’

  ‘That reminds me.’ Sophie reached into her shoulder-bag. ‘There’s a postcard from Josh and Toni that arrived this morning. They’re in Jamaica.’

  ‘And missing all the fun,’ Oliver said sadly. ‘Two emergencies in the same week. Something’s changed about this place and I’m not sure I can keep up with it.’

  Janet moved away from the group. Something had certainly changed. After this morning she was almost inclined to think it might be for the better. If she and Jamie could actually extend their rapport, maybe they could achieve some kind of understanding—a resolution that might even provide an explanation, if not an apology. Maybe then Janet would be able to forgive Jamie and put the past firmly where it belonged. She might even be able to restore a little of her faith in her own judgement and move on without being haunted by such a momentous personal failure.

  It wouldn’t be easy, of course, but Janet was prepared to meet him part way if Jamie admitted his blame. To forget was impossible. To forgive?

  Maybe.

  The exhilaration stayed with Janet as she worked steadily through the afternoon. She wasn’t dreading encounters with Jamie any more. The eye contact they had was more frequent and less tense. Janet even found herself smiling at Jamie when no one else was around to notice. For his part, Jamie seemed to be looking for reasons to come into the treatment room.

  One reason was quite legitimate. He had a patient with a splinter buried deep in his heel. Janet provided the scalpel and tweezers needed to remove the foreign object, then she cleaned up the infected wound and dressed it. Jamie had no patient to bring with him when he returned a short time later.

  ‘Thanks for your help,’ he said. ‘‘I hope that didn’t disrupt your timetable too much.’

  ‘Not at all. You timed it just right. I had a quiet spell.’

  ‘You did a great job this morning. I wouldn’t have managed without you.’

  Janet looked away quickly, a spot of colour highlighting each cheek. ‘It’s just part of my job, Jamie. It’s what a practice nurse does.’ She pulled open the door of the autoclave. ‘Och!’ Janet blew on her fingers.

  Jamie took a step closer. ‘You should open that door a bit more slowly.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Janet muttered. ‘I’ll try and remember that.’

  Jamie took hold of her hand. ‘Let me see.’

  ‘No.’ Janet tried to pull her hand free. ‘It’s fine.’

  Jamie didn’t let go and Janet stopped tugging. Jamie turned her hand over, examining the reddened fingers. He took a deep breath as he bent his head. ‘Do you still use that herbal shampoo?’

  ‘I … I don’t think so.’ Janet tried to concentrate on her hand but Jamie’s fingers were stroking it. And the sensations the contact provoked were more disturbing than the thought of him noticing the smell of her hair.

  She could hear the change in Jamie’s breathing and her own quickened in response. Was he feeling the same stirrings of desire? He seemed reluctant to drop her hand. Janet gave a little tug.

  ‘It’s fine,’ she told him.

  Jamie let go slowly. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘No damage done.’

  Janet was caught by the intense gaze from those dark brown eyes. She cleared her throat nervously. ‘Um … Jamie?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘Maybe we could … should … um.’

  ‘Should what, Janet?’ If anything, the gaze became even more intense. Janet had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew the reason for her lack of coherence and was quite happy to encourage it.

  Janet took a step back. She couldn’t think straight, standing this close to Jamie. She cleared
her throat. ‘I thought maybe we should have a talk,’ she said in a rush. ‘Not here. Somewhere where we’d have a bit more space and time.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ Jamie said agreeably. ‘We’ve still got a bit of catching up to do. On your side, anyway. Right now, though, I’d better go and catch up with some patients. I’ve got a 3.30 appointment with some children who won’t stop coughing.’

  Janet watched him leave as she emptied the autoclave. The twins should be here any minute and they would have plenty of company in the waiting room. The numbers of children always increased after school hours and the noise level right now suggested that today’s younger patients were rather high-spirited.

  Suddenly struck by the horrible thought that it might be her children responsible for the gleeful shrieks of laughter, Janet dived for the door. She stood in the archway and watched in dismay as Jamie strode across the waiting room to deal with the badly behaved small boy who was swinging on the drape hanging on one side of the bay window.

  ‘Cut that out,’ Jamie ordered sternly. ‘Leave the curtain alone this minute.’ The small boy turned quickly in surprise, still hanging onto the base of the curtain. Another child was clearly behind the drape, still giggling as it clutched at the disappearing fabric. The curtain rail sagged and then snapped at the increasing burden. A small shrouded figure fell, landing on top of the culprit Jamie had just admonished.

  Janet heard Sandy giggle as she watched the unfolding drama. The other mothers present were also watching, keeping their own children under strict supervision. Janet knew she should go in and sort out the chaos her children had created, but she couldn’t move. It was too much, seeing Jamie about to meet his sons for the first time.

  The shrouded child rolled around vigorously, trying to extricate itself. The heaving puddle of fabric on the floor suddenly parted as a small head emerged. Jamie frowned as he looked from one boy to the other. Then he nodded slowly and sighed.

  ‘You’re Janet Muir’s twins, aren’t you?’

  The boys nodded eagerly. ‘I’m Rory,’ one said with a cheeky grin. ‘And that’s Adam.’