Her Little Secret

by Carol Marinelli

  Except there had been Dad then to argue his case for him and, anyway, Tim had a way to him that always won their mum around.

  God, but she missed him.

  And her father too.

  Missed, not just the people but the family they had been then, the security the others had provided, unnoticed at the time, the certainty they were there for each other, which had all been ripped away. So instead of a smart retort Alison looked instead at the fear in her mother’s eyes and apologised for not texting and had a cup of tea and a chat with her mum, till Rose headed off for bed.

  Then later, alone, when surely all her friends were still out, she went on the computer and checked her social network profile. She had one friend request and, yes, it was from Nick. He must befriend everyone, Alison decided, but she did click on his name, hoping for another little peek at his profile, except that, apart from his photo, all the rest of the photos and information were private.

  She went to accept his friend request and for a moment her finger hovered, then she chose to ignore it.

  Very deliberately she ignored it, even if they did have eighteen mutual friends between them.

  It was one a.m. on a Saturday after all.

  A girl had some pride.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘ARE you okay?’

  They were waiting for a multi-trauma at eight a.m. on Monday morning. The sky was black with a storm and the roads like ice after a long dry spell. Alison was in Resus this morning and so too was Nick. She’d said good morning at the bus stop, then moved to her regular seat. Ignored him in the staffroom that morning, her head buried in the crossword, but now they stood on opposite sides of the trauma bed, all set up and gowned up, waiting for the patients to arrive, though they were taking longer to get there than anticipated and Alison was quiet.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Look, about the other night…’

  ‘What about the other night?’ She frowned over her mask to him.

  ‘I got waylaid by Moira and then you’d gone.’

  ‘I’m not even thinking about that—I just hate getting kids in.’

  Yes, it happened day in and day out, but some days you just hated it so and Nick, cool, confident Nick, actually coloured up a little bit, because for once, with a woman, it wasn’t about him. He’d awoken slightly disconcerted on Saturday, and had spent the rest of the day trying ignore a niggle. He’d swum, walked for a while, but had ended up at a cemetery that was, strange as it might sound, both fascinating and beautiful, and then back to the flat, where that niggle had developed a name as he’d checked his social network profile and, no, she hadn’t responded to that request either.

  ‘ETA five minutes!’ Sheila called, and he watched as Alison blinked twice.

  ‘They’re taking ages.’

  ‘Rush-hour.’

  ‘It’s still ages.’

  ‘It might not be that bad,’ Nick said. ‘We’re set up for everything; we’ll worry, if we need to, when they get here.’

  It was actually very good advice and Alison gave a thin smile. ‘Is that what you do?’

  ‘I try to,’ Nick replied. ‘Right now I’m trying to work out seven down—begins with L, ends in E, recurring.’

  ‘Life,’ Alison said, and he grinned. ‘I’m stuck on it too.’

  ‘How’s the flat-hunting?’ he asked. ‘Any luck?’

  And she was about to shrug, to get back to worrying about the family that was coming in, but Nick was right. Until they arrived there was no point, so instead she followed his lead.

  ‘Actually, yes!’ She’d sworn not to get her hopes up, not to say a word, but she was so delighted she couldn’t help herself. ‘I got a phone call from a real estate agent about a flat, and though it’s not officially on the market yet, he’s arranging an inspection. It’s within my price range and they want a quick sale… It all sounds a bit too good to be true.’

  ‘It might be your time for some good luck.’

  ‘How was the rest of your weekend?’ Alison asked, because, well, she was interested and she wanted to get back to normal with him and he was so easy to talk to. ‘Any surfing?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t quite call it surfing, but I did manage to get up and stay up for about half a second. It was great…’ He stopped in mid-sentence as a siren blared the first ambulance’s arrival. ‘Okay,’ Nick said, ‘now we can get back to worrying.’

  Her name was Polly and she was seven and petrified and on a trauma board, her head strapped down. She was so scared that she wasn’t even crying.

  ‘Hi, there, Polly.’ Nick smiled down at her. ‘I’m Nick, I’m a doctor. You’re having a rotten morning, aren’t you?’ He spoke reassuringly to her as he rapidly examined her while Alison transferred the oxygen tubes. The paramedics had started an IV and were feeding information as they worked on. Alison was cutting off Polly’s school uniform, attaching her to monitors and getting her observations.

  ‘Where’s my mum?’ Her little teeth were chattering, just one thing on her mind, and Alison glanced over at Todd, the paramedic, who nodded his head towards the door and Alison went over.

  ‘She’s being cut out of the car,’ Todd explained. ‘She’s conscious, but she’s got some nasty cuts and is really agitated. She should be in soon. The police are trying to get hold of Dad.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Alison said, but nothing else, and headed back to Polly. ‘Mum will be coming in soon, and we’re getting hold of Dad, but right now we need to make sure you’re okay.’

  Amazingly she appeared to be.

  There were some minor cuts and bruises, but she was neurologically sound and her abdomen was soft and non-tender. After a thorough examination and some cervical spine films, they peeled off the board and beneath it was a little girl who was a bit calmer, but still shaky, asking after her mum and very worried about her dad.

  ‘He’s got an interview.’ Now Polly did start crying.

  ‘Hey,’ Nick said, ‘don’t worry about that. Your dad will be so relieved that you’re okay.’ Except the little girl could not be consoled.

  ‘Can I move her over to a cubicle?’ Alison checked with Nick, and then spoke away from Polly. ‘Mum’s about to arrive…’

  ‘Sure, just…’ He didn’t finish, and Alison didn’t wait to find out or to be told—yes, she would keep a very close eye on Polly.

  She could see Todd hanging around, taking ages to sort out the blankets, and she deliberately ignored him. Alison didn’t like him. He was good at his job and everything but he had asked her out a few times and didn’t know how to take no for an answer. He’d also been out with half the department, and expected Alison to follow suit.

  ‘Hey, Alison.’ Todd came over. ‘How is she?’

  ‘Fine,’ Alison answered. ‘We’re just about to move her out of Resus.’

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine,’ came her reply, but she didn’t elaborate, actually refusing to speak to him about anything other than work.

  She was glad she had moved Polly out, though her mum’s sobs still reached the cubicle and after rechecking the little girl’s obs, Alison didn’t try to placate her. ‘I’ll go and find out how she is.’

  The police were outside in the corridor and they brought Alison up to speed on things before she went in. Ellie and Sheila, the unit manager, were helping Nick and Alison observed for a moment before asking how she was doing.

  ‘She’s got a nasty arm laceration that needs to go straight to Theatre,’ Ellie said. ‘She’s hysterical. Nick’s told her that her little girl’s okay.’

  ‘This is the nurse looking after Polly,’ Nick told his patient, and Alison went over to the distraught woman. ‘Rebecca,’ he added, and Alison nodded.

  ‘I’m looking after Polly,’ Alison said. ‘She’s doing really well. As soon as you’re more settled you can see her.’

  ‘David?’

  ‘Your husband?’ Alison checked. ‘I’ve just spoken to the police and he’s on his way in.’

&nb
sp; ‘He’ll be so worried.’

  ‘I’ll look out for him,’ Alison promised. ‘I’ll speak to him the second he arrives and I’ll bring him in to Polly and to you just as soon as I can.’

  ‘He’ll be—’

  ‘I’ll look after him,’ Alison said gently. ‘Try not to worry.’

  ‘Where are they?’ The man, who was chalk-white and looked as if he might pass out any second, needed no introduction. Alison knew this must be the father. A security man was running in behind him, about to tell him to move his car, but Alison dealt with practicalities, got the keys from him and asked for permission for Security to move it. David was really in no state to drive.

  ‘They’re going to be okay,’ Alison said, and guided him straight to a side room. ‘Let me just talk to you for a moment and then I’ll take you in to see Polly.’ She knew he needed to see his daughter, but in the state he was in, he would just upset Polly more.

  ‘Polly’s escaped lightly,’ Alison explained. ‘She’s got some cuts and a few bruises across her chest and to her shoulder from the seat belt, but she’s talking and she’s fine.’

  ‘Rebecca?’

  ‘She’s got a nasty arm laceration and they’re talking about taking her straight to Theatre. There might be some concussion and they’re going to arrange for a head CT. She’s very distressed, they had to cut her out of the car, but she knows where she is and what’s happened, and she’s very worried about Polly and about you.’

  ‘Oh, God.’ He bunched his hands by his head and took in some deep breaths. ‘I thought the worst…’

  ‘Of course you did,’ Alison said gently. ‘We were prepared for the worst too, but they do seem to be relatively okay. I’ll get the doctor to speak to you just as soon as he can.’

  ‘I don’t think I even said goodbye this morning. I’ve got a job interview today…’ Alison frowned, because she’d heard Polly going on about it. ‘I was so worked up about it, I can’t even remember if I said goodbye…’ And he broke down then and Alison listened and found out that he had lost his job nine months ago, that he had, in fact, had a nervous breakdown and was still struggling to deal with things, but was slowly picking up. And because she listened she heard too that today was a vital day, so much hope had been pinned on it, that this job had meant everything, right up till this point. She could understand now how upset Rebecca would be, not about the job but about her husband’s reaction.

  ‘Let me take you in to Polly,’ Alison said when he had calmed down. ‘And I’ll let your wife know that you’re here.’

  He did really well, he smiled and said all the right things to Polly—that the interview didn’t matter a scrap, just as long as she and her mother were okay, that they would be fine, that they were all going to be fine. Rarely for Alison, she felt a sting of tears at the backs of her eyes and left them to it to go and speak with the wife.

  ‘Hi, Rebecca.’ Alison came in as Nick and the trauma surgeons looked at the patient’s arm, and though Nick was concentrating, he still heard her speak. ‘Polly’s fine, her dad’s with her—and he’s fine. He really is okay.’ Rebecca started crying and bizarrely for a second it sounded to Nick as if it was the husband who was hurt. ‘I’ve told him that when the surgeons have finished looking at your arm I’ll bring him in to see you. Rebecca, he’s holding up really well.’ And the arm Nick was holding down for the surgeons to assess relaxed just a little bit beneath his fingers.

  ‘David’s told me all that’s been going on,’ Alison continued, ‘and, honestly, now that he knows you two are going to be okay, he really is fine.’

  ‘He can’t cope with things,’ Rebecca said, and it was the first proper conversation she’d managed since her arrival.

  ‘Not the little things perhaps,’ Alison said, and stroked the poor woman’s cheek. ‘But he’s dealing well with this. Maybe he’s finding out he’s stronger than he thinks.’

  ‘So much hinges on today…’

  ‘I know.’ She glanced up at Nick. ‘David had an important job interview today,’ Alison explained, then looked back at the patient. ‘When things are more settled we could ring the company and explain what’s happened.’ She paused and hoped, not wanting to presume but grateful when he stepped in.

  ‘I’m happy to do that,’ Nick said.

  ‘That’s good,’ Alison said to Rebecca. ‘It will sound better coming from a doctor.’ And Nick looked down at his patient and saw her close her eyes in relief, felt her body relax and he realised that head CT wasn’t quite so urgent.

  ‘There’s a lot of stress going on for them,’ Alison murmured to Nick. ‘They really didn’t need this.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Nick said. He realised he’d learned something, and whatever it was he decided he would process it later.

  As Ellie prepared Rebecca for Theatre, knowing what would put his patient’s mind at rest more than any medication, Nick made the phone call Alison had suggested, then returned to tell the couple how it had gone. ‘They were really grateful for you letting them know,’ Nick told David. ‘Especially with all that’s going on. They’ve asked you to ring later in the day or tomorrow if you get a chance to arrange another time. They sound pretty keen,’ he added, then glanced up as Alison came in with a nervous Polly.

  ‘Here’s Mum,’ Alison said, and Rebecca and Polly had a kiss and a cuddle before Rebecca was taken to Theatre, because only seeing her mum would truly reassure the anxious child.

  ‘I’m going to take her up to the children’s ward soon,’ Alison told Rebecca. ‘Just for observation. They’ll make a fuss of her. You can ring her this evening when you’re back from Theatre and feeling better—or one of the staff might bring her up for a little visit.’

  ‘She’s nice…’ Rebecca said when Alison had left. Nick agreed, saying that Polly was being well looked after by her, then told his patient to put her oxygen mask back on because he didn’t want to think about how nice Alison was—there was more to Alison than there was time to know, more to her than there was scope to explore. No, he really didn’t need this.

  Heading into the staffroom for a quick lunch break later, when Ellie asked if he was going to the social club that night, it would have been far more sensible to answer that gleam in her eye with a smile and a ‘Yes’, or take Moira up on that offer to go to that Irish pub, because instinct told him that they knew the rules—that he was on holiday and not here for a long time, just a good one, but instead all he really noticed was that Alison had glasses on today while doing the crossword and didn’t look up to hear his response, though her cheeks burnt red and her ears were pink as she pretended to concentrate on the puzzle in front of her. Because the seat next to her was the only one left, he chose it, peered over her shoulder and, yes, she was stuck on the same word as he’d been. He was about to nudge her, to tease her, because ‘leitmotif’ was a word it had taken him a full morning to get, but he deliberately stopped himself.

  ‘Leitmotif!’ He heard the triumph in her voice and ignored it, felt the haste of her pen beside him, and it took every bit of effort not to turn round and join her in that moment. No, this Nick really didn’t need.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘ALISON doesn’t want to be my friend.’

  He lasted two days.

  Two days trying not to notice how her neck went a little bit pink when he spoke to her. Two days ignoring the fragrance of her hair when their heads occasionally met over a patient, or that now and then she’d rub her forehead and on would come her glasses. Two days of just talking, just keeping it as it was, then, as happened at times, but had to happen on this day, Alison came off the worse for wear with an inebriated patient. Showered and changed into the most threadbare, faded scrubs, Nick got the most astonishing view of what appeared to be a purple bra and panties, before Sheila pointed the problem out and Alison put on a theatre gown. Like a dressing gown over pyjamas, Nick thought, and then tried not to think, and then just stopped thinking for a dangerous moment as she sat next to him writing up his notes, h
er ponytail wet and heavy, and he forgot, just simply forgot not to flirt.

  ‘Why don’t you want to be my friend, Alison?’ He nudged her as if they were sitting in a classroom and Alison, who wasn’t having the greatest day, annoyed with herself for not replacing her spare uniform, found herself trying not to smile, yet she did carry on the joke and put her arm over the notes she was writing as if he was trying to copy her.

  ‘I am your friend, Nick.’

  ‘Not on Facebook…’

  ‘I haven’t got time to play online…’ Alison said. ‘Some of us live and work in the real world—I’m studying to get on this trauma course.’

  ‘You’re friends with Ellie.’ He grinned and then stopped, and so too did Alison. There was this charge in the air; it would be far safer to carry on writing, or just get up and go, but she didn’t, she just sat. ‘Are you going to have to get the bus wearing that? Only I can—’

  ‘I washed my uniform and begged them on the rehab ward to use their tumbledryer…’ She didn’t get to finish because screams filled the department and Nick jumped up as a man was stretchered in, sucking on the gas, in sheer agony at the prospect of being moved from the stretcher to the gurney.

  ‘Can I have a quick look before you move him?’

  His jeans had already been cut off and it was a rather horrible sight, his dislocated patella causing the whole leg to look deformed. It was an excruciating injury and Alison blinked as, without X-ray, without delay, Nick told the man to suck on the gas and with one flick popped it back.

  A shriek filled the department and then a sob and then the sound of relieved silence.

  ‘Let’s get him on the gurney and then we’ll need X-rays.’ He chatted for a moment to his extremely grateful patient, then chatted a bit more to the rather impressed paramedics, then he walked over to where Alison was now on the computer, checking some blood results, and she could feel the heat whoosh up her neck as he came over.