The Nurse's Secret Son

by Amy Andrews

  ‘It’s getting a little crowded here now. I don’t want you to feel you have to keep providing a place for me to live. You’ve been very generous, opening up your home to me.’

  ‘Yours as well, Sophie,’ Wendy interrupted, tears shining in her eyes. ‘It’s high time you started thinking of Arabella as your home, too. For goodness’ sake, you’ve been coming here every school holiday since you were five and lived here permanently since your uni years. Max hasn’t known another home. No.’ She shook her head. ‘We won’t hear of it. Arabella is as much your home as ours.’

  Sophie had felt warmed by her mother-in-law’s affirmation but as she and Max sat waiting for John to arrive she also remembered Daniel’s silence during that conversation.

  This house held plenty of their history, too. So many happy times. She smiled as she thought about them now. Times when Michael and Sophie had followed the older Daniel around like puppies.

  Times the three of them had spent up the mulberry tree, eating handfuls of the sweet berries until their clothes and fingers and lips had been stained dark purple. Times when they’d splashed in the pool. Times when they’d skipped stones across the surface of the Brisbane river that lapped at the edges of Arabella’s extensive grounds.

  And the time when, long after he’d moved out, she and Daniel had realised they loved each other and had spent weeks sneaking around, meeting secretly to kiss and touch and whisper sweet nothings.

  They had kept their new relationship quiet, wanting to savour it by themselves for a while. Carry on without the fuss and attention that they’d known would be made of it. Kissing in the gardens, in the pool, in the bathrooms and in his bedroom. Finally making love on his old bed and knowing they wanted to be together for ever.

  And as Max jumped off the bed at the sound of the car in the driveway and she saw Daniel in the driver’s seat, she remembered the bad times as well.

  Learning about the accident and that Michael, her best friend, was going to be a paraplegic for the rest of his life, discovering she was pregnant and then Daniel’s rejection.

  ‘I don’t love you. I never loved you. I just said that so you’d have sex with me.’

  She remembered how harsh his voice had been and his sneer and her total devastation as her world, already crumbling from Michael’s tragedy, had crashed in a heap around her. How the news about their baby had died on her lips and she’d realised she couldn’t tell him. Not after he had said such an awful thing.

  ‘Come on, Mummy,’ said Max, jumping up and down on the bed excitedly. ‘G.G.’s home!’

  He grabbed her hand and heaved with all his three-year-old might to pull her off the bed. She smiled at her snowy-haired son and felt tears sting her eyes. Oh, to be so carefree!

  ‘Mummy’s coming,’ she sniffed, and swallowed the hurt along with her tears.

  A week later Sophie walked into the entrance to St Jude’s Hospital and made her way through the sliding doors of the ground-floor accident and emergency department. She greeted the three other RNs who were waiting for handover from Georgina, the department’s nurse manager.

  She sighed contentedly—it was great to be back at work. It would give her a break from the constant state of wariness she now lived in. Running into Daniel was becoming a more frequent occurrence now that John was home, and she was finding the situation increasingly difficult.

  Her anger with him warred with rekindled memories and she found herself increasingly just wanting to shout at him. For his rejection, for his distance and for seducing her at an emotionally crippling time of her life and then treating her like…Eve who had tempted him with the forbidden apple. Oh, yeah. She was definitely mad at him.

  ‘In cubicle one,’ Georgina interrupted Sophie’s turbulent thoughts, ‘we have a twenty-three-year-old female with abdominal pain. We’re waiting on blood and urine results. She’s had fifty of pethidine and her pain has settled.’

  ‘Any bleeding?’ asked Sophie, snapping into her clinical role.

  ‘No. Not gynae. Preg. test is negative.’

  ‘Cube two is a sixty-year-old female with a chest infection. X-ray shows left lobe consolidation.’

  ‘Antibiotics?’ asked Richard.

  ‘Stat dose of penicillin. Sputum samples have been sent.’

  ‘Let me guess. We’re waiting on a ward bed,’ said Richard, his voice heavy with derision. Bed shortages were always a problem.

  Georgina nodded and continued. ‘Cubes three and four are empty. Cube five is a forty-two-year-old male who sliced open his left lower arm on some kind of industrial saw thing at work a couple of hours ago.’

  ‘Ugh! Did he lose much blood?’ asked Leah.

  ‘Estimated loss of approximately two hundred mils. He’s lucky there’s been no damage to any major vessels, tendons or nerves. He’s scheduled for suturing as soon as Todd’s ready.’

  Oh, goody! Todd was on—they were definitely going to have a great night. Dr Todd Hutchinson was one of the department’s registrars. He was nearly at the end of his six-month rotation. He had blond curly hair and looked about nineteen instead of thirty. His youthful looks gave him an air of innocence despite his dreadful habit of practical joking. He was a laugh a minute. And a dreadful flirt. Sophie really enjoyed working with him.

  ‘Cubes six, seven and eight are also vacant. The six beds in Short Stay, however, are packed to the roof. There’s been a vomiting and diarrhoea bug going around since the Ekka started. Everyone’s on IV fluids and anti-emetics.’

  They all had a chuckle. Every year the same thing happened. The yearly agricultural exhibition came to town with its sideshow alley and carnival atmosphere, and everyone in Brisbane came down with whatever the prevalent illness happened to be at the time. Last year it had been flu, the year before conjunctivitis. When hundreds of thousands of people mingled, there was bound to be some germ swapping!

  ‘No one’s in Resus and there’s nothing around the ridges that I know of. You should have a quiet shift.’

  Leah looked at Sophie then at her boss and said, ‘Thanks, George! Give us the kiss of death, why don’t you? When the bus-crash victims start rolling though the door you’ll be the first one we call.’ They all laughed.

  As Sophie had seniority it was her job to allocate the late-shift staff to the areas they would work in until they knocked off at eleven p.m.

  ‘Richard, can I give you Short Stay?’ She batted her eyelids dramatically and smiled her sweetest pleading smile. Eight hours with vomit bowls and bedpans was a very long time!

  ‘But, of course, Sophie, my dear. I love vomit. I live for vomit. Vomit is my best friend.’ He rolled his eyes.

  ‘You’re a darling.’ She giggled. They watched as he stuffed his pockets full of disposable gloves until they were bulging then donned special splash goggles and a plastic apron. He looked ready to do battle.

  ‘Karen, you can do Triage.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Karen’s smile was hesitant. She was a new graduate who had only been in the department for a few months and this would be her first time solo at the triage desk.

  ‘Positive. You’ll be great. You’re a natural.’ Sophie shot her a reassuring smile and watched as Karen blushed. ‘Just come and ask if you’re not sure about anything.’

  They watched as Karen headed to the desk, a spring in her step. ‘OK, babe,’ she said to Leah. ‘You and me got the cubes. Reckon we can handle it?’

  ‘With our eyes shut.’

  Sophie grinned at her friend. She felt the stress of the last month lift a little. She loved her work here at St Jude’s. Being an emergency nurse had always been her goal and she had come straight to the department from her training five years before.

  They had been tremendous during her times of need. Like Michael’s accident and the numerous times she had needed leave at a moment’s notice in the beginning to grapple with some new crisis due to his paralysis. And then maternity leave and the whole awful time surrounding Michael’s sudden death two years later. She cou
ldn’t have asked for a more supportive workplace.

  She only worked part time these days, mainly night duty with the occasional late shift. She didn’t want to be disruptive to Max and his routine and found these shifts suited best.

  Michael had been house-husband when he’d been alive and she had worked full time. His male pride had occasionally been pricked but he had thrived in his role and Sophie had loved how close he and Max had been. Especially when Michael had always known Max was not his son but had loved him like his own regardless.

  ‘Sophie, don’t forget you’re rostered on at the city station for your yearly ambulance ride-along on Saturday night,’ Georgina reminded her as she walked past on her way out.

  Damn it! She had forgotten, with everything that had happened recently.

  ‘Sophie!’

  A low whistle from behind had her turning around. ‘Hey, Todd.’ She grinned.

  ‘Look at you.’ He laughed. ‘You look great. Fantastic tan,’ he said, stroking his hand lightly down her sun-kissed arm. ‘How’s the professor?’

  ‘In much better humour now he’s at home,’ she said.

  Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion coming from the triage desk. Leah, Richard, Todd and herself went to investigate.

  An elderly woman—Sophie thought she might be in her eighties—was babbling away in a foreign language and gesticulating wildly at Karen. The young nurse looked bewildered, getting a word in when she could. Another woman—about her own age, Sophie thought—was adding her voice to the hubbub, trying to calm the older woman.

  Sophie dug Richard in the ribs. His smooth charm had calmed many an agitated patient. He moved forward into the fray, ever-present vomit bowl in hand.

  He stood beside the elderly lady and she turned to glare at him. Then she said something that sounded suspiciously like an insult and promptly threw up into Richard’s bowl.

  A few seconds of stunned silence followed.

  ‘Well done, good catch, Richard,’ said Todd, and everyone smothered laughter.

  ‘My grandmother has been vomiting all day,’ the younger woman said into the silence. ‘She doesn’t seem to be able to stop.’

  With great difficulty they ushered the pair into an empty cubicle. Sophie left Leah with them as she went to gather the paperwork.

  ‘Hello, Sophie.’

  She looked up to find Daniel standing on the other side of the desk in his navy blue paramedic overalls. They fitted him superbly, the stripes on his shoulders completing the image of a professional intensive care paramedic. He had started work a few days ago.

  Daniel swallowed hard and forced his facial features into neutrality as his body reacted to seeing Sophie in her uniform. It had been years since he had seen her dressed as a nurse. He remembered how it had turned him on, the virginal, don’t-touch-me aura that the pristine white uniform had given her. It had made him want to get her dirty and the front zipper had always been too much of a temptation for him.

  His eyes were drawn to the way the white cotton pulled across her bust and how her fob watch swung lazily across the fabric at her breast with each movement. It was hypnotising, the swish and sway mesmerising.

  ‘Daniel,’ she said, surprised. She knew that their paths were bound to cross at work from time to time but she hadn’t been prepared to see him tonight.

  The patient on the trolley coughed and Sophie remembered that there was actually a purpose to Daniel being here.

  ‘Beryl!’ Sophie recognised Daniel’s patient instantly. She was a regular to the department and one of Sophie’s favourites. Beryl had been Sophie’s first-ever patient as a student nurse and she had nursed her on and off ever since.

  ‘Hello…my…lovely.’

  Beryl’s speech was forced out between snatched breaths. She sat bolt upright on the trolley, leaning forward slightly, her outstretched neck reminding Sophie of a turtle. An oxygen mask was pressed desperately by one shaky hand to her face.

  She looked pale and pasty with a film of sweat on her creased forehead. Her eyes were large and round—fear of dying bulging them to their full extent. She clutched Sophie’s hand across the desk. ‘In…a…bad…way,’ she said.

  ‘Cube three,’ she said to Daniel, and followed them into the cubicle.

  Sophie busied herself getting Beryl settled while Daniel relayed the incident details and his treatment. Sophie tuned into the low rumble of his voice and her mind drifted to how she had loved to listen to him talk after they had made love and her head had been snuggled on his chest, her ear pressed to his skin.

  ‘Sophie?’

  She looked at Daniel blankly. Had he said something? He held the end of the oxygen tubing towards her and she stared at him for a few seconds before she realised he wanted her to plug it into their wall supply. She took it, feeling foolish, lecturing herself on appropriate workplace thoughts. She connected it and placed a finger probe on Beryl to assess her oxygen saturations.

  She noticed the yellow staining on her patient’s clubbed fingertips and the cigarette packet hanging out of Beryl’s open handbag. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had been the cause of this acute exacerbation of her chronic airway disease.

  ‘Beryl,’ she chided gently, ‘I thought you were giving up after your last scare.’

  ‘Too old…too…set in my…ways,’ Beryl wheezed. ‘I’m old…I need some…pleasure.’

  Pleasure. The word settled between them. Sophie looked at Daniel. Daniel looked at Sophie. Then they both looked away, busying themselves. Todd entered the cubicle and stood close to Sophie. She’d never been more grateful to see another human being. She beamed at Todd and relayed the information to him, tuning Daniel out altogether. When Daniel took his leave she almost sagged to the floor in relief.

  Daniel pushed the trolley to the waiting ambulance, refusing to dwell on what had just happened inside. He helped the crew of the transport vehicle to restock and talked with them briefly about Beryl’s case. He waved to them as they departed then climbed into his own single-officer vehicle.

  The white Jeep was a compact mini emergency department equipped with almost everything he could ever require in any situation. Two people could be seated in the front but it was strictly a non-transport vehicle. IC paras were there to provide a higher skill set. Their cars were not equipped for patient transport.

  As he drove out of the ambulance bay he remembered how Sophie had smiled at Todd and had seemed to only have eyes for him. Were they in a relationship? His mother hadn’t mentioned anything in her regular phone calls and she’d always given him the rundown on Sophie and Max’s goings on.

  They were obviously very friendly, but was there something else going on? He felt sick. It had been bad enough thinking about Michael touching her, but this Todd guy? He was just too damn cute!

  Back at St Jude’s, Sophie didn’t have time to reflect as Beryl kept them busy for a while. She was requiring regular Ventolin nebuliser treatments to improve the wheeze. A chest X-ray didn’t show any new changes but it did reveal a slightly enlarged heart.

  ‘Keep the nebs up every fifteen minutes to start with,’ Todd ordered, scribbling on Beryl’s bed chart. ‘If she starts to become less short of breath, we’ll knock it back.’ He smiled at Sophie with his thousand-watt smile.

  ‘I’ll just reduce her oxygen now her saturations are in the mid-nineties,’ Sophie said as she switched the neb mask for the oxygen one.

  ‘Good idea. We don’t want to knock off her respiratory drive.’

  People with chronic airway disease operated on a hypoxic drive. The general population depended on rising carbon-dioxide levels in the bloodstream to stimulate a breath. Chronic airway sufferers had persistently elevated levels as their norm. Their bodies compensated for this by reverting to falling oxygen levels to stimulate a breath. Too much high-concentration oxygen could knock off this vital drive and the patient could just stop breathing.

  ‘Nurse…Nurse.’ Beryl clutched Sophie’s arm and then the lap
el of her uniform in a bid to bring Sophie closer.

  ‘It’s OK, Beryl, I’m here,’ Sophie reassured her patient.

  ‘I’m scared,’ the old lady gasped out.

  ‘Beryl, we’ve got you now.’ Sophie softened her voice and spoke gently, trying to ease her favourite patient’s distress. ‘I know your breathing is difficult at the moment, but you are improving. Try not to panic, it’ll just make your breathing worse.’

  Beryl gulped in air like a fish floundering on the shore after it had been hooked. She fixed Sophie with frightened eyes. ‘I don’t…want to…die.’

  Sophie squeezed Beryl’s hand as Todd left the cubicle.

  ‘That’s just what I mean, Beryl. You need to think positively here. Come on, breathe with me. In…’ Sophie sucked in a deep breath and held it. ‘Now out…’ she said, exhaling slowly. She repeated the exercise with Beryl, who quickly calmed down.

  Half an hour later Sophie left the cubicle, satisfied that Beryl had settled. She gathered paperwork at the nurses’ station.

  ‘How’s Beryl doing?’ asked Todd.

  ‘Better now.’

  This time anyway. Both of them knew that Beryl was smoking herself to death. Today had been a close call and unfortunately they were becoming more and more frequent. One day soon she wouldn’t be so lucky. Sophie hoped it wouldn’t happen on her shift.

  Two hours later Beryl’s condition had stabilised and she was happy to go home. Her breathing had settled back to its normal level and her husband had arrived with her home oxygen cylinder for the trip back. As Sophie waved them off she wondered how long it would be until she saw Beryl again.

  Sophie’s thoughts were distracted by raised voices behind the curtain in cubicle four. It was the old lady in full swing again, pointing and swearing in Polish. Mrs Schmidt had vomited down her shirt and Leah was trying to remove the putrid clothing and put her into a fresh gown.

  The old lady clutched at her top, ignoring the desperate pleas of Anna, her granddaughter, to let them help.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’Anna apologized. ‘My grandmother was in a refugee camp after the war. She has dementia now and thinks she’s still back in the camp.’