by Amy Andrews
The ambulance pulled away, light and sirens blazing. Sophie stopped to thank the first responders and then got in the Jeep and followed at a more sedate pace, listening to the radio chatter. She parked near the emergency doors on her arrival at St Jude’s and found Daniel completing his paperwork in the back of the ambulance.
‘How is he?’ she asked.
‘He’s just developed a mild stridor. They’re going to electively intubate him and send him to ICU.’
Fifteen minutes later Daniel had filled out his report form, restocked the Jeep, called himself clear at Coms and they were on their way back to Headquarters.
He watched Sophie surreptitiously and noticed how quiet she was, just sitting and staring out the window.
‘You OK, Sophie?’ he asked gently.
‘Uh-huh.’ She nodded and turned to face him. ‘It’s just…you know. Different.’
‘What is?’
‘Your job and mine. It’s so…raw. You see people at the worst possible moments in their lives. At least when they get to us the initial shock has worn off and they’re…I don’t know, cleaner or something. Your job’s pretty confronting.’
‘It can be—sure,’ he admitted, holding her gaze as he pulled up at a traffic light. She’d obviously been affected by Simon’s case. Seeing him writhing on the ground, extreme pain racking his charred body, was about as raw as it got.
Sophie gazed into Daniel’s blue eyes. Even in the semi-darkness of the car they glowed. He saw stuff like this all the time. How did he cope with it?
The pager beeped into the silence and she looked away, quickly reining in her emotions.
‘Here we go again,’ he murmured.
The next few hours flew by with no real chance to talk. They spoke about clinical things and directions and possible scenarios they might encounter. They communicated well on that level, comfortable with each other at last. They were despatched to seven cases and stood down from five.
Sophie felt dizzy from all the going back and forth and the turning around and the noise of the siren and the irritating strobing of the vehicle beacons. She was relieved when they finally got back to Headquarters.
‘We should try and get some sleep,’ Daniel said, passing her a blanket. ‘There’s no telling when we’ll be needed next. It’s nearly one a.m.’
Now they were alone again Daniel had slipped back into his awkwardness. She watched as he pushed his recliner back and dimmed the overhead lights, not looking at her once. He turned his back to her so he was lying on his side, facing the wall.
She’d enjoyed the last few hours. She’d never worked with him before and was surprised by their synchronicity. There had been an ease that had echoed past times. Their angst had been forgotten as they had worked like a team that had been together for years.
It seemed they could talk for hours about medical matters with no evidence of strain. Work side by side to save a patient’s life, no problems. But now they were back at HQ, with no lives hanging in the balance, four years of baggage loomed large.
Sophie adjusted the blanket around her and got comfortable in the chair but she lay awake, unable to sleep.
‘Daniel.’ It was now or never.
‘Yes, Sophie.’ He didn’t turn to face her.
‘Truce?’
‘I wasn’t aware we were fighting,’ he hedged, talking to the wall.
‘We can’t go on like this. We’ve got the rest of the shift to get through and I think for John’s sake and your parents and even Max, we should be able to get along.’
Daniel squeezed his eyes tight and stifled a sigh. That was easier said than done when he only had to look at her and his emotions became tangled in such a bitter-sweet jumble he didn’t know whether he wanted to spank her or kiss her.
‘Daniel?’
He moved around in his chair until he was sitting properly and turned his head to look at her. ‘Can we do that, Sophie? Can we put everything behind us? You were sleeping with my brother at the same time you were sleeping with me. Did you tell Michael you loved him as well or did you only save that particular honour for me?’
Sophie shut her eyes at the accusation in his voice. How could he think that of her? The denial came to her lips but she quashed the impulse to clear her character. There had been four years of lies trapping her in a web that just got stickier. She had let him think the worst because it was the only plausible explanation for Max.
‘What do you care? You never loved me anyway.’
‘See,’ he whispered into the gloom. ‘Difficult, isn’t it?’
Sophie swallowed hard as his point hit home. ‘Difficult, sure…but not impossible. If we just agree to leave the past where it belongs—’
‘Ignore it, you mean?’
‘No. Acknowledge that we have one but let the emotions go. I don’t think we’re ever going to get anywhere if we go ten rounds of I-said-you-said.’
He was silent for a few minutes, digesting her suggestion. Maybe she was right. It would make life a lot easier around the house. Of course he couldn’t control where his mind wandered but he could control what came out of his mouth and the way he acted towards her. ‘OK. Truce,’ he agreed.
Sophie let out the breath she’d been holding. For the foreseeable future they would be living under the same roof—hopefully their agreement would ease the way.
The beeper went off an hour later as Daniel lay staring at the ceiling, still wide awake.
‘What is it?’ Sophie murmured sleepily.
‘“Seventy-year-old female. Difficulty breathing. History of COAD,”’ he read off the pager. ‘Come on, sleepyhead.’ He deliberately used a light teasing tone, rising quickly and grabbing her hand to pull her to her feet. ‘Let’s hustle.’
They got in the car and Daniel contacted Coms on the radio.
‘Thank you, 001. You are proceeding to one hundred and fifty Peermont Road, Newfarm. Code one, please. You should be first unit on scene.’
‘Roger,’ said Daniel, and put the mike down. ‘That’s Beryl,’ he said, urgency in his voice and actions as he switched the sirens on and planted his foot on the accelerator.
Sophie almost groaned. Just when they had found some common ground they were going to have to confront a situation that would once again put them at odds. Well, if he thought she was going to be anything other than herself with Beryl, he could think again! She wasn’t going to be cool or distant because he disapproved of her relationship with a patient.
They arrived at Beryl’s in just under five minutes. Sophie lugged the oxygen and Lifepak as Daniel came up behind with the drug box.
Beryl’s husband ushered them through the door and Sophie was instantly aware of the ingrained odour of cigarette smoke. It permeated everything—the curtains, the carpets, the linen on her bed. No wonder her airways were constantly irritated.
Beryl was sitting bolt upright in bed, one leg over the side, her foot planted on the floor, pushing herself as far forward as possible. A Ventolin nebuliser misted out around the mask she was clutching to her face. She looked frightened. Not even the sight of Sophie erased the fear.
‘Beryl,’ Sophie said, going straight to her and swapping the oxygen tubing over to their cylinder and cranking it up. ‘It’s OK. We’re here now,’ she soothed.
Sophie quickly attached three electrodes to her patient’s chest and switched on the Lifepak. The heart rhythm looked normal, albeit a little fast.
‘Can’t…breathe,’ Beryl forced out, holding Sophie’s hand desperately.
Sophie sat beside her on the bed and worked through the elderly woman’s breathing with her. Beryl’s hand was sweaty but Sophie didn’t mind. She watched Daniel out of the corner of her eye and wondered what he was thinking. If this one small comfort helped ease her patient’s fears, he could go to hell. Beryl’s anxiety was only making her breathing worse. And besides, Sophie was a nurse, she comforted—that was her job!
Daniel busied himself with setting up an IV line just in case they needed
it. Beryl seemed worse to him than she had the other day, snatching every breath she could. She was pale and clammy and as Sophie applied the BP cuff he also noticed she was hypertensive. They needed to get her to hospital pronto. If she were to go into respiratory arrest out here, he didn’t fancy her chances.
The smell of cigarette smoke polluted the air inside the house and Daniel found his ire rising. Why did people do this to themselves? It was all well and good to say nicotine was addictive but surely not being able to breathe was a good incentive to kick the habit? Daniel despised smoking with a passion. He’d seen too many people like Beryl throw their lives away.
Sophie removed the nebuliser mask now that the dose was finished, put on a normal mask and delivered the oxygen at six litres per minute as Beryl’s oxygen saturations weren’t too bad. The urge to really crank it up was tempting but Sophie didn’t want to confuse Beryl’s hypoxic drive.
They heard the other ambulance arrive and Sophie went to meet them, instructing them to bring the stretcher, as they would be transporting as soon as possible.
Once again Sophie drove the Jeep to St Jude’s behind the ambulance, pulling in simultaneously this time. Beryl had settled quite a bit on the brief ride to St Jude’s, as was often the case. Patients’ conditions could be exacerbated by their anxiety. The knowledge that they had a trained professional tending them and they were in good hands often had a beneficial effect.
‘Good luck, Beryl.’ Sophie squeezed her favourite patient’s hand as Richard, who was on Triage, took her through to the cubicles.
Sophie waved to her until she disappeared behind the curtains. She would be very sad when Beryl finally passed from this world. Daniel was right about that. But as much as it angered her that her favourite patient was smoking herself to death, Sophie knew that Beryl was a mature adult who understood what she was doing.
Todd came out from a nearby cubicle. ‘Hey. Sophie. Wow! Sexy vest.’
She laughed and did a little pirouette. ‘Oh, yes. Very glam!’
‘It is on you, sugar doll. But, then, you’d look good in a sack.’
A sack? Or the sack. Daniel had heard their banter as he’d rounded the corner. It was obvious Todd had a major crush on Sophie. His tongue was hanging out a mile. The guy was just too smooth for Daniel’s liking.
‘Let’s go,’ he said, trying to keep the terse note out of his voice.
Daniel drove back to HQ, mulling over the Todd thing. Of course other men would find Sophie attractive. She wasn’t exclusively available to Monday men after all. One day he supposed she would find someone else. It was easy to forget she was only twenty-five, she’d been around in his life for so long.
Snippets of memories flitted through his mind as he navigated the Jeep. The day he and Michael had first met her, a gawky, gangly five-year-old, sent to spend the school holidays at Arabella while her mother had recovered from depression. And the many other school holidays that had been the highlight of his younger years.
G., teaching them all to play chess, and the many games she’d insisted they play together so she could get good enough to beat him. The cake she had harangued Sally to let her cook for his sixteenth birthday, complete with a very wobbly DANIEL that her eleven-year-old fingers had personally iced. And…the red gown.
Daniel pulled up in the driveway of Headquarters and switched off the engine. OK, so he’d agreed to let the past go but…surely she hadn’t really forgotten? The hours he had spent searching for just the right gown returned to him. The embarrassment of hanging out in lingerie departments. The shop assistant who had winked and taken pity on him, helping him to find exactly what he had been looking for.
‘Daniel?’
Her quiet interruption brought him back to the present. He turned to face her and he knew he couldn’t let it be.
‘Are we going in?’ she asked, looking at him oddly.
He looked at her some more, his intense blue gaze holding hers. Was that her breathing he could hear roughening? Was she licking her lips because they were dry or was she nervous or something else?
‘Were you serious this morning about the gown?’
Sophie’s breath stuttered out into the close confines of the Jeep. Must they talk about this again? She looked down into her lap. ‘Daniel, I thought we agreed—’
He placed two fingers beneath her chin and turned her head towards him. She looked tired and wary and fragile and…beautiful.
‘The gown, Sophie. Don’t tell me you don’t remember.’
‘I…’
‘I’ve pulled that belt so many times.’
‘Stop it, Daniel,’ she begged in a hoarse whisper. ‘This just gets us nowhere.’
‘Tell me you remember,’ he insisted softly.
‘No,’ she said, shaking her head and dislodging his fingers, hardening the wobbly edge to her voice. ‘I don’t. I won’t.’ She had to deny it. If she admitted it now, if she put it out there, she feared that all their suppressed intimacy would be unleashed and overwhelm the tiny space that separated them.
He lifted her face again and he could see the determination glitter in her eyes.
‘Tell me.’
She shook her head mutinously. Staring him down. Every cell rebelled at his request, screamed at her to get out, but there was something compelling about his eyes, his stare, that she couldn’t resist.
Daniel felt his breathing roughen and fall into sync with hers. He knew if he didn’t kiss her right now he was going to die.
But instead of being soft and gentle and giving, it was insistent, punishing. His fingers held her jaw steady as he plundered her mouth for a few brief seconds and then pulled away. ‘Tell me,’ he gasped.
‘Go to hell,’ she said through clenched teeth.
He lowered his head again and repossessed her soft lips, revelling in her resistance as she shook her head from side to side. They pulled apart again and the air seemed to crackle like a brooding sky before a thunderstorm. Their harsh breathing louder than a cyclonic wind. ‘Say it and I’ll stop.’
Her eyes grew large. He was seriously going to blackmail her over this? ‘I remember,’ she whispered, because she had to stop this craziness and she didn’t think she could cope if he kissed her again.
But he kissed her again anyway. Softer this time. Slower. His fingers stroking her jaw, her cheek. ‘What do you remember?’
She heard the pleading note in his voice and responded to it just as she always had. ‘I remember that the gown was a gift from you,’ she said quietly, leaning her forehead against his, ‘and that I used to tease you by wearing nothing underneath it so you would pull the cord and take it off and make love to me.’
She felt the gentle kiss he pressed to her forehead and tears pricked at her eyes. Was he satisfied now?
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, kissing her forehead again.
They pulled apart and sat quietly, each staring out of the windscreen straight ahead, collecting their thoughts and letting their breathing settle.
What had possessed him? He didn’t know. It had suddenly been so important to him for her to acknowledge their past. Their earlier decision to ignore it had made it seem all the morecrucial. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘Damn right,’ she said, reaching for the doorhandle and letting herself out.
She walked into the staffroom, collected her bag and was out of the door again as he was just alighting from the vehicle.
‘Where are you going? Shift’s not over yet.’
‘It is as far as I’m concerned,’ she threw over her shoulder, walking briskly to her car.
Daniel watched her leave, mentally berating himself for his stupidity. He hadn’t meant for things to get so out of hand. They were supposed to be moving on. He’d acted impulsively and had really ticked her off.
Worse, their kiss had stirred something inside that he’d managed to put into deep freeze for four years. Maybe he wasn’t as over her as he thought?
CHAPTE
R FOUR
MAX jumped on Sophie at four o’clock the next day. She didn’t usually sleep this late after a night shift but she’d tossed and turned for hours, reliving the incident with Daniel before finally getting to sleep midmorning.
‘Come on, Mummy. Wake up. You’ve been asleep for ages. It’s Family Sunday.’
Sophie stretched and woke to find eyes as blue as Daniel’s staring back at her.
‘Helwo, Mummy,’ said Max smiling at her.
‘Hello, my Maxster,’ said Sophie.
‘I wuv you, Mummy,’ he said.
‘I love you, too.’ She grinned and closed her eyes as Max stuck his thumb in his mouth and reached for a strand of her hair, rubbing it against his cheek. Max gave her another five minutes’ sleep, indulging in a rare moment of tranquillity, the comfort of his old routine still having a calming effect. But the joys of Family Sunday beckoned.
‘Mummy,’ he whispered, opening one eye for her with a chubby finger.
‘I’m coming,’ she said, opening both eyes before Max did damage to her eyeball.
She got out of bed and threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Max left her to it, satisfied that she was up. She gave herself a once-over in her mirror. Her hair looked a little worse for wear so she scraped it up into a ponytail. Still average, but it would have to do.
She tried not to think about last night as she slowly made her way to the formal lounge room. Walking out on Daniel like that had been highly unprofessional but, then, so was what he had done. Kissing her like that—she could have him for sexual harassment, no contest!
‘Afternoon everyone,’ she said, suppressing a yawn as she joined the clan.
They were all there—John, Edward and Wendy, Sally and a fully recovered Charlie, Max and…Daniel. Someone had put a CD on and the light music was a perfect backdrop to the lively conversation.
Family Sunday was a Monday tradition that had been around for longer than Sophie had been on the scene. It involved the family coming together on Sunday afternoons and spending time with each other, afternoon cocktails and conversation leading to a wonderfully cooked dinner courtesy of Sally.
