‘We’ve got three helicopters across two regional bases,’ she announced flatly. ‘So, between everything, we’re never more than a fifteen-minute flight to the nearest hospital.’
He whistled. ‘That’s pretty impressive,’ he said, after only a beat of hesitation.
He looked around to take it all in. She felt another odd swell of pride as he turned back to her, more questions at the ready.
‘So, what’s your range?’
‘About six thousand square miles.’ Thea indicated the map on the wall, showing the area in question, grateful to have something concrete to focus on. ‘Our helicopters can fly up to around two hundred miles per hour, and are fitted out with the most advanced lifesaving kit to give the patients their very best possible chance of survival.’
Great—now she sounded like one of the charity’s donation request adverts.
‘Is it usually single individuals, or do you get multiple casualties?’ he asked thoughtfully.
‘Both,’ she confirmed. ‘From a single jockey or a skateboarder to a multi-car pile-up. The most I’ve triaged in one go is nine. So...let me show you around the base.’
‘Thea, we’re up.’ One of the paramedics hurried over. ‘Motorbike accident—twelve miles out.’
With little more than a cursory farewell to Ben, Thea switched her mind from the complications and questions which had been dogging her all afternoon, and focussed in on her team.
Pulling her gear on, she listened as the base’s switchboard operator relayed the details as they were fed to him.
‘Two casualties—one rider, one pillion. High-speed collision with a car at a junction. There are two road crews already on their way to the scene but we’ve been called to attend.’
‘We’ll stay patched in. Keep us informed, Jack,’ Thea said as she headed onto the Tarmac with the two paramedics on her team.
Her pilot, Harry, was already good to go, and as she jumped into the helicopter she brought up the crash location on her onscreen map, talking it through with him. Ultimately it would be his job to choose the optimal landing site.
As the helicopter ate up the relatively short distance to the crash site she kept an eye out for a clear landing location and potential hazards. A pass over the accident itself was an opportunity to take in as much detail as possible from the air—once on the ground it would be all go.
‘There’s a grassy central reservation—looks like we’ll be able to land there. Just keep an eye out for power lines and street lights,’ the pilot reminded her team, as he did every flight. It was part of their ritual, and it made sure they had their eye on the ball.
Thea drew in a few deep breaths as the pilot prepared to land the craft. This was the worst part. They were so close, and her adrenalin was coursing, but they had to be calm, patient. The pilot was lining the helicopter up between the street lights, with everyone systematically checking their own side, the rear, and below. It was always felt so painfully slow compared to the rest of the flight.
With an exhalation of relief, Thea felt the helicopter touch down and she and her team jumped out. The road ambulance paramedics were waving her over to one crash victim. Even as she approached she could tell it was bad. The man’s leg was open to the bone, presumably from his skid across the Tarmac of the road. But it was his silence which concerned her the most. She could hear his pillion passenger screaming in pain, but this man, the rider, was showing minimal response.
She hastily called in to update Jack, back at base, then turned her attention to their patients.
She couldn’t assume the pillion rider was all right without checking, so she carried out a quick triage to confirm her suspicions.
‘Stable, good SATS, broken leg and primarily superficial cuts and bruises.’ She patched in the information to Jack.
But the other man wasn’t so fortunate, and she suspected there would be a risk of amputation without immediate treatment—which was why her crew had been called out.
‘Main casualty has open fracture on his knee. Suspected abdominal injury. Left side of chest severely compromised and he’s in and out of consciousness. His SATS are down in the low eighties and I’m not happy that they won’t drop out. I’m recommending ground ambulance, given the turbulence we experienced on the flight down and the short distance to the closest hospital. I’m going in the road ambulance—my guys too.’
If his SATS dropped again, or there were any other warning signs, Thea knew she would be able to spot them quickly and treat them. The fact that she was a trauma doctor was an advantage the air ambulance had over their road crew counterparts.
‘You’re clear for that.’ Jack’s voice responded immediately. ‘Team Two are still on standby. I’ll contact you if there are any emergencies.’
Giving her pilot a thumbs-up, telling him to return to the helicopter and follow the team to the hospital, Thea swung herself up into the ambulance with the critically injured rider and began to work.
* * *
Ben watched as Thea jumped smoothly out of the helicopter, striding out across the Tarmac back to the base. It was her third call-out in twelve hours. She looked exhausted. And beautiful, Ben realised in a tumble of emotions. Emotions he had no place feeling, which were now vying for his attention. He fought to hold them back. He’d been emotionally prepared for the old Thea. But this Thea—this strong woman who seemed to bulldoze through all his carefully laid plans—was a different prospect.
As she walked into the base and her eyes collided with his, however, he could have sworn he saw her face fall.
‘You were listening in the whole time?’
Why did he get the impression that whatever answer he gave it would be wrong?
‘It was an interesting case.’ He shrugged.
‘But you would have done things better?’
Ben frowned, confused. From all he’d heard, her last patient had been DOA. No one could have done anything about that. But he stayed quiet, giving Thea a moment.
Did she think he was going to challenge her? Nothing could be further from the truth. Thea was good. She was more than good. She had to know that. This sudden hostility didn’t seem to fit with the Thea he knew.
But how well do you really know her?
Ben tried to ignore the niggling reminder that she had never mentioned their marriage, even to her close-knit crew. He told himself it was hardly surprising, given that their marriage had been a sham anyway. But still, he felt oddly hurt and sidelined. She was getting under his skin again.
‘It was another motorbike rider in a high-speed collision—this time with a truck in the oncoming lane.’ Thea pushed past him into the break room, making her announcement to no one in particular and flinging her helmet down in frustration. ‘She was pushed into the central reservation when someone pulled into the fast lane to overtake and didn’t see the bike coming up behind. She clipped the barrier and flipped over into the oncoming traffic. DOA.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he sympathised.
‘Why don’t these people realise what happens to the human body when you come off one of those things?’
‘One in three are dead on arrival.’ One of the other paramedics looked up at Ben from his newspaper. ‘Thea takes it personally. She wants to at least feel she stands a chance of helping the victims she’s flown out to see.’
Ben nodded. He could understand that—it was something he had felt himself many times in the past. Perhaps it was conceit to think that he could have done something if the casualty had been alive when he arrived, rather than accepting that they were so badly injured they would have died whether or not he’d been there.
Still, he could empathise with Thea’s frustration. And it was a relief to find common ground. It was as though it helped him to understand the woman Thea was now. As though it somehow brought them closer together.
He let his gaze fall back on Thea. She’d looked so calm and poised, hour after hour, call-out after call-out. Now, suddenly, she looked sad and deflated. He wanted to comfort her but she wouldn’t welcome him. And besides, she didn’t need him. She probably never had.
Still, wordlessly he moved into the kitchen to make her some strong, sweet tea.
He’d listened to her interactions with Jack every time her team had gone out, had admired her professionalism, her composure, her confidence. She commanded her team with respect and she knew how to get just that little bit more out of them—and her colleagues returned double that respect. Thea had seriously downplayed her talent when she’d told him she was good at her job. He’d be happy to have her work alongside him any time. No, scratch that, he’d be happy to work alongside her any time.
He felt a swell of pride which he had no right to feel. It was as though he’d had something to do with her success, and he knew that wasn’t the case. She’d achieved this all on her own.
Still, this grown-up Thea was a far cry from the twenty-one-year-old Thea who had captivated him with her flightiness and her lust for life, combined with the gentle, almost shy side she’d kept hidden. This Thea was confident, ballsy and sexy, but utterly dedicated and focused on what really mattered. And, from the various admiring glances he’d seen cast her way, he wasn’t the only one to think so.
He briefly wondered what had happened between Thea and Nic, before pushing the question aside. Who she dated wasn’t his business. But the fact that she wanted to was. She was right about the Army not letting her stay in the house if they knew they weren’t really married. But at some point she was bound to find someone else she would want in her life. And she and Ben needed an exit strategy.
He clenched his fists. The very thought simultaneously sickened and angered him. Jealousy? What was he playing at? This had to stop. Now.
Because he was beginning to think that he’d never be able to let her go. Not really. He didn’t think he could stay in that house with her for longer than was absolutely necessary. The sooner he finished his recovery and got back to Army life, away from Thea, the better.
And not just Thea. He was feeling inexplicably drawn to the life she led here. Once, back-to-back tours had made him feel proud—as if he was achieving something. But more and more over the years he’d begun to feel disillusioned. As though he was fighting the same war over and over again but never getting anywhere. As though he’d be more effective elsewhere. Somewhere like here.
But he couldn’t come here. This wasn’t his life—it was hers. A life which she’d carved out for herself despite him. And he had no business being in it.
As much as he suddenly found himself wanting to.
CHAPTER FIVE
THEA RETREATED TO her bedroom the moment they returned to the cottage. It was the only sanctuary she had left now Ben had catapulted back into her life. She flopped onto her bed, expecting exhaustion to claim her, as it always did after a twenty-hour shift. But today it proved elusive and instead she twisted and turned in agitation.
Ben! she thought resentfully. She could hear him moving about in his own room, and even that riled her. She should have known when Ben had agreed to be discharged into her care that he would fight any real attempt to help him through his recovery. She’d been nothing more than a means to an end—a way for him to get away from the hospital and away from people. Because heaven forbid anyone should ever get close to him.
The only person Ben had ever appeared close to had been her brother Dan. Best mates and Army buddies, they would have laid down their lives for each other. Dan had done so. No wonder she could never compete with that in Ben’s eyes.
She harrumphed and jettisoned herself off her bed to go and stare, unseeing, out of the window, lost in her thoughts.
What on earth had possessed her to invite Ben to work, to meet her colleagues, when she’d known it was bound to come out that she’d never told them she was married? Had she subconsciously wanted to create a confrontation? Neither of them had been prepared to be the first one to bring up their past, but now it was out there and she and Ben could no longer pretend to tiptoe around each other.
If it had been her unwitting intention, then it hadn’t worked anyway. Ben didn’t seem to care—not even about Nic. She didn’t like to admit how much that hurt, but it had underlined things for her. She didn’t want to keep avoiding their past—not when she still needed answers that only Ben could provide. They needed to have a conversation, at least once, which included the reason why he had really married her? The last time she’d asked him that he’d told her it had been the only way he could honour his promise to take care of her. But if that had been all there was to it then he wouldn’t have slept with her.
She needed to understand. How could he have walked out on her that night?
And she wasn’t the only one who was owed the truth. At some point she was going to have to tell him that she’d fallen pregnant that night and that she’d lost their baby. But what if he didn’t care?
Thea turned around from the window. She was suffocating, trapped within the four walls of her room. She needed to get out of there.
She lunged across the room to the high chest of drawers and scrabbled for her running kit, but even now, as if taunting her, her eyes slid down to the bottom drawer. In there, tucked in a small brown envelope and slid out of sight under the maternity clothes she had bought in such excitement but which she’d never had opportunity to wear, was the scan image she had of the baby she’d lost.
She froze momentarily before wrenching her eyes away, focussing instead on the drawer crammed with sports gear. She needed to occupy herself, push herself to her limits, exhaust her body so that she might finally find the blissful oblivion of sleep.
Thea dressed within minutes and then ducked down the stairs and outside. She would stretch in the garden—it was a pleasant enough afternoon. A wave of relief flooded over her at her sense of freedom. But it was short-lived.
‘Ben? You can’t seriously be going out for a run?’
Instantly his expression of cautious greeting evaporated, closing down as he shut her out.
He sighed, as if humouring a small child. ‘Look, I’ve jogged before—at the hospital.’
‘Of course you have.’ She snorted. Why couldn’t he just cut himself some slack?
‘Short distances, slow pace. I’ll probably just jog down to the end of the road and back. How about you? How far are you going?
She bit her lip angrily. He was being foolish, but there was no way she was going to be able to talk him out of it. He was so stubborn.
‘I was thinking five or six miles.’ Thea stalled for a moment, contemplating cutting her stretches short. Ben couldn’t afford to do anything to interfere with his body’s healing process, but maybe she should jog away—stretch somewhere else.
Instead she stayed where she was, bending one leg up behind her, tucking her heel against her bottom to stretch her thigh. Refusing to be chased away.
Out of the corner of her eye she watched him move towards the gate. He was clearly pushing past his limits, against all medical advice. Suddenly she felt tired of telling him, tired of trying to be there for someone who clearly didn’t want her help. So much for her hope that caring for Ben during his recovery would help her find the closure that she was so desperately lacking.
She took her time finishing her stretches, wanting to give Ben plenty of time to put some distance between them as he so clearly wanted to. She headed out in the opposite direction when she finally set off.
She wished it didn’t matter. Over the years she’d almost convinced herself that she’d put Ben Abrams into her past. And then she’d received the news that he’d been blown up and was being shipped home. Her whole world had been thrown into chaos and she’d realised she’d never moved on from him, or f
rom their wedding night, at all.
She’d been so silly in the beginning—racing home every day and hoping against hope that he’d be there, waiting for her. When she’d found out she was pregnant she’d believed that somehow he would sense it and come home. He hadn’t. Just as he hadn’t sensed it when she’d seen those first ominous spots of blood, or when the pain had hit, or when she’d lost their baby.
The loss had been visceral. And it had taken her so long to piece herself back together. How many times had she dialled the first few digits of Ben’s mobile—wanting his strength, his comfort—only to terminate the call? She had needed him to come home because he had chosen to—not because she had compelled him. It had only been then that Thea had realised, deep down, that Ben was never coming back. She was on her own and she was always going to be on her own.
In the end she’d thrown herself into the last year of her degree, grateful for the long hours of exhausting work which had kept her out of the house and distracted her. A year to the day after she’d lost the baby Thea had finally picked up her first paintbrush and started the transitioning process, doing little bits of decorating on her few days off or when she’d found herself at a loose end.
Redecorating the house from top to bottom had been the only way she’d been able to occupy her thoughts and move on from what she had lost with Ben. It was no coincidence that her first—awful—date had taken place shortly after there had been no more decorating to do. Apart from Ben’s room, which had remained untouched until last year.
If she looked back she wondered how she had managed to get through those dark, bleak days. So she’d stopped looking back, shut the memories away and pretended they belonged to someone else. And now she wasn’t sure how to unlock them properly again, or even if she wanted to. What purpose would it serve to tell Ben about the baby after all this time? And yet somehow she felt as though he had a right to know.
It piqued her to realise that, deep down, she wanted to tell him. But she still couldn’t shake the fear that he might not care.
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