by Anne Fraser
‘His poor wife, how will she cope?’ she mumbled into his chest. ‘They’d been married for fifty years. They were everything to each other. How does someone go on after their partner of so long leaves them?’
Jamie was a little taken aback by her reaction. He had always known that Sarah let herself become attached to patients. But she usually hid it well, only ever showing a professional, cool exterior. Perhaps motherhood had changed her, softened her? Jamie was unprepared for the surge of protectiveness he felt as he stroked her hair tenderly. As she started to pull away, he cupped her face, gently wiping away her spilt tears with his thumbs. ‘At least Mary still has her son and he’ll be of some comfort and support to her.’ Jamie soothed softly. ‘And Bill was able to make his peace before he died.’
Remembering what Mary had said about fathers and sons, Sarah longed to blurt out the words that raged in her heart as she searched Jamie’s eyes for some clue as to how he felt about her and Calum. Why couldn’t he love her? And their son? Exhaustion and emotion brought fresh tears welling up in her eyes once more. ‘Shh, it’s OK, SJ,’ Jamie said huskily, and before she knew it, he was kissing her salty, wet cheeks, tracing the tears tracks down her face and then finding her lips and tenderly covering her mouth with his own.
Sarah clung to him, breathing in his intoxicating male scent. The smell of him and the taste of his lips sent her dormant hormones into overdrive. All she could think of as Jamie’s kisses became deeper, more demanding was how much she wanted him inside her. Maybe it was a reaction to Bill’s death, but for the moment neither the past nor the future mattered more than her imperative need.
She slipped her hands under the front of his T-shirt, feeling the muscles of his chest bunch and tense at her touch. She let her hands travel across his skin, first finding the indent of muscle at his lower back and then, as he groaned, pulling her hips towards him, she moved her hands, as light as butterflies, to just above his jeans button to the crisp hair on his abdomen.
Jamie removed his jacket, tossing it onto the floor. In the same swift movement he removed her dressing-gown and pulled her camisole top off over her head. Her nipples tightened with desire as he cupped them gently in hands still rough from years of climbing.
Jamie could not believe he had her in his arms again. And she had come so easily, as if they had never been apart, as if the feelings between them had not lessened with time. How soft and pliant she was, how inviting…The cold intrusive voice of reason made him falter. But was this fair to her? To revive a love affair that should stay ended? What the hell was he doing? He grabbed hold of her hips again but this time it was to peel her away from him.
‘I’m sorry, SJ,’ he groaned, ‘I can’t.’
Sarah stepped away from him as if she had been slapped. He was rejecting her? Again? Did he think she was some sex-starved floozy who had been waiting for him to return so she could grapple him back into bed?
Before Sarah could think of the words to persuade him that her reaction meant nothing, a loud wail tore through the air.
‘What on earth is that?’ Jamie asked.
‘Calum,’ Sarah said quietly. ‘He must be looking for his next feed.’
For a moment Sarah and Jamie looked at one another. She felt slightly dazed. With trembling fingers she scooped up her camisole top and hurriedly pulled it on. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Sarah tiptoed silently into the nursery, leaving the door slightly ajar so that she could attend to Calum without switching on the bedside light. As soon as she picked him up, his loud cries changed to whimpers.
Jamie appeared behind her. ‘I’d better go,’ he said softly.
‘Yes, perhaps you should,’ Sarah whispered, not trusting herself to look at him. Suddenly she remembered his date with Annie Walker. Unbidden, an image of the gorgeous midwife warming his bed sprang to her mind. Was that why he had pulled back? ‘Ah, your prior arrangement with Nurse Walker—she’ll be wondering where you are,’ she stated flatly, anger rising, overcoming her embarrassment. What a stupid, lust-ridden, idiot he must think her.
Narrowing his eyes, Jamie said tightly, ‘Actually, Sarah, I cancelled my date with Annie tonight.’
‘Why?’ Sarah said, turning away from him so he couldn’t read the spurt of happiness she felt in her eyes. His voice was terse. ‘Because, like you, I have more than enough to deal with right now without—’ Before he could complete the sentence Calum began to cry in earnest.
‘Here,’ she said, handing him to Jamie ‘You hold him while I go heat up a bottle. I don’t suppose you can change a nappy?’
Jamie looked at Sarah in dismay. He was holding Calum at arm’s length, as if he were some kind of foreign object. ‘Change a nappy?’ he echoed. ‘You’re not serious?’
‘Why not? You’ll have to learn some time. Whatever else you are, Jamie, you are this child’s father, whether you like it or not.’ Sarah said, and turned on her heel, leaving her son and his father alone together.
Jamie looked at the small bundle he was holding. Calum’s cries had stopped and he was looking at Jamie with interest.
‘Hello, there,’ Jamie said.
Calum kicked his legs vigorously in response. For one horrifying moment Jamie thought he would drop the baby and changed his grip, holding him in his arms the way he had held hundreds of small children in his career. But this wasn’t any child. This was his child. A surge of love and tenderness for his son caught Jamie unawares. Oh, God, he groaned inwardly. What sort of future had he inflicted on this innocent baby? He had to find out the blood results before he became any more involved with either of them. He closed his eyes against the image of life without Sarah or Calum.
‘Ubh,’ he said as tiny, strong fingers reached forward and gripped his lower lip, yanking it forward. His eyes shot open, to meet those of his son regarding him intently. Strong hands. Jamie thought past the pain. He’ll make a good rock climber with a grip like that. And as an image of himself and his son several years older, climbing together, passed through his mind, Jamie realised that for the second time in his life he had fallen hopelessly and irrevocably in love.
Heated bottle in hand, Sarah stood watching Jamie and her son. Their son. He seemed so relaxed with his child and Calum in his turn seemed happy and contented with his father. She felt confused. What did it all mean? Jamie taking her in his arms, playing with his child. And how did she feel about it? She needed to know what was going on inside Jamie’s head.
‘Let me change Calum’s nappy and give him his feed. Then perhaps we can talk once he’s asleep,’ she suggested.
Jamie stood up, handing the baby over.
‘Talk about what, Sarah?’ he asked softly
‘Us. You and me. Well, maybe not us.’ She stumbled over the words. That wasn’t what she’d intended to say. He obviously had no intention of there being an ‘us’. ‘You and Calum.’
‘Of course I’ll make sure you are both well provided for financially.’
‘Financially?’ Sarah echoed, feeling the blood in her veins turn to ice. ‘Is that what you think I want? Financial help with a bit of sex on the side?’
‘I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I don’t think I can give you an answer to what you’re asking—not yet.’
Sarah felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She had got it wrong—again! For a blind moment she had allowed herself to believe that Jamie wanted her as much as she wanted him. But what was even worse, he didn’t seem to want Calum either!
‘You can’t keep popping in and out of our lives, Jamie. Calum, at least, has a right to either have you in his life with all the commitment that entails or you have to stay out of our lives. For his sake—and mine.’ She lifted her chin, determined not to let him know how much her words were costing her. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him see how much she was hurting.
‘I need some time SJ. That’s all I’m asking. At the moment I can’t give either of you what you are looking for.’
‘Then I think
you’d better leave, don’t you?’
Jamie went over to the sofa and retrieved his jacket. ‘Of course. I shouldn’t have come.’ He looked at Sarah and then at his son. Sarah could see something close to anguish reflected in his eyes. ‘Goodbye, SJ,’ he said softly as he gently closed the door behind him.
CHAPTER FIVE
SARAH crept into the department, praying that she’d be able to avoid Jamie until she had some strong coffee under her belt. What had she been thinking? Falling into his arms like some overwrought child? But she knew her response to Jamie had been anything but that of a child. She almost groaned aloud as she remembered how his body had felt, hard and muscular against hers. She felt her cheeks go pink as she thought of his lips trailing across her shoulders, finding the secret spot at the base of her throat that he knew from past experience drove her wild. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she berated herself. How could she have succumbed so quickly to his touch, thought for one moment that his feelings had changed? That he was ready to make a commitment, if not to her, at least to their son. Nothing more. She felt her blush deepen as she remembered the scene, how easily she had gone into his arms. He wasn’t even interested in sex. He had rejected her. She would have gone to bed with him and he knew it. Was the thought of being with her so repulsive to him? Did he think that once they had slept together she would make demands on him? Demands that he clearly didn’t want. He had made that perfectly clear.
With a sinking heart she realised she was going to have to find a way to keep him at arm’s length. Clearly she couldn’t trust the responses of her own traitorous body. Could she persuade him to go back to Africa early? If financial support was all he was prepared to offer, she and Calum would be better off without him. Surely the department could find someone else, even at short notice? But the mere thought of Jamie being thousands of miles away sent her spirits plummeting. She didn’t know which would be worse—seeing him every day, yet not being able to have him in the only sense she truly wanted him, completely and wholly hers, or never seeing him at all. Damn him. Why did he have to come back and upset her neatly ordered life? Just when she’d thought she’d got over him.
As she stepped into the department, Lizzie thrust a cup of hot black coffee into her hand.
‘Thank you. You must be psychic,’ said Sarah. ‘How did you know it was the one thing I truly needed right at this moment?’
‘I’m getting to know you. You run better when you’re kept well fuelled. Besides, we have a young man with multiple injuries coming in in a few minutes. He was found at the bottom of the Clyde Bridge. No one knows what happened. Whether he fell, jumped or was pushed. Looks like we’re going to need all hands on deck. So drink up. It might be your last chance for a while.’
Sarah took a couple of sips of her coffee before setting it down and going to change into her theatre greens. Mentally she ran through the possible injuries that she might be faced with in the next few minutes. As she emerged from the changing room, she noticed that Karen was in some sort of heated discussion with a patient. Judging by the expression on her face, Karen’s usual good humour seemed to have deserted her, and Sarah thought she knew why.
‘Just give me a prescription for the pain, and I’ll be on my way,’ the patient shouted at Karen.
Sarah went over to them, noticing that the man was scruffily dressed and wore a woollen hat pulled low over his brow.
‘Can I help?’ she asked politely.
‘The doctor here won’t give me a prescription for my pain!’ the man said angrily
‘I’m sure if Dr Davidson here doesn’t feel you need a prescription then she is absolutely right, Mr…?’
‘Wilson. Kenny Wilson,’ The man replied truculently.
‘This is the second time Mr Wilson has been here in as many weeks.’ Karen said, unmistakably exasperated. ‘I’ve explained that we don’t give out strong painkillers for headaches, but he’s not happy with my decision.’
‘I assume he’s been thoroughly examined?’
‘Of course. There is absolutely nothing to be found. I’ve checked with one or two of the other A and E departments and he’s a regular attender there, too.’ She shot Sarah a significant look. Sarah knew what it meant. Every department had their share of drug-addicted patients. While Sarah sympathised with anyone whose life had hit rock bottom, an A and E department was not the place to get the help they needed.
Kenny took a step towards Sarah, so close she could smell the alcohol on his breath. It took all her nerve not to step back. ‘You doctors are all the same,’ he hissed.
‘I think it’s time you left,’ a low voice said from behind Sarah. ‘Now, are you going to leave quietly or shall I get Security to escort you off the premises?’
Kenny took one look at Jamie’s muscular frame and uncompromising expression before deciding that discretion was the better part of valour. He sidled towards the exit, grumbling volubly.
‘Thanks, Sarah, Jamie,’ said Karen. ‘I must admit I was relieved you came along when you did. But now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a couple of patients waiting to see me.’ As she left them, Jamie looked at Sarah. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m perfectly fine,’ she said. It was her turn to be annoyed. ‘I know you meant well, Jamie, but when are you going to realise I’m a big girl now and perfectly able to take care of myself and my staff?’
‘I’ve never been in any doubt that you can. You made that crystal clear again last night.’
‘Please, forget about last night, Jamie. I should never have…’ She searched for the right words. ‘Kissed you,’ she managed at last, although they both knew it had been much more than that. She would have gone to bed with him, if Jamie hadn’t pulled away. She suspected he knew that and cringed inwardly. ‘It’s just that you caught me at a vulnerable moment.’ Sarah said stiffly, her cheeks flushing at the memory.
‘It was my fault,’ Jamie answered. ‘But I’m not sure I want to forget about it entirely.’ He smiled lazily.
‘Well, it’s not going to happen again!’ Sarah retorted. ‘So can we, please, just stick to talking about work?’
‘Sarah I…’ Jamie started. ‘No, you’re right. It’s best if we stick to clinical subjects for the time being.’ Before Sarah could think about his words he went on, ‘You’ve heard we’re expecting a young man with multiple trauma?’ He paused as the wail of an ambulance got louder and then shut off abruptly. ‘Sounds like he’s just arrived. Come on. Let’s go.’
While the patient was being wheeled into Resus, the paramedics reeled off information on his status.
‘Twenty-four-year-old, name’s Tom Kennedy, according to his driving licence. Discovered unconscious at the foot of the Clyde Bridge half an hour ago by a member of the public. Has a GCS of 6, BP 90 over 45, pulse 125 and respirations 18 per minute. Bleeding extensively from a head wound, fractured right tibia and fibula, which have been stabilised. Bruising to abdomen.’ The room filled up with medical and nursing staff as they all gathered around the gurney where the patient lay.
‘OK,’ Sarah said, snapping on gloves. ‘Is someone stabilising his head and neck? Good. On my count of three remove the stretcher underneath him.’ Once the manoeuvre was completed with practised timing, Lizzie gently and expertly cut away the bloodied clothes from Tom.
The paramedic continued, ‘No morphine given due to his poor level of consciousness and respiratory distress. IV fluids given stat and second litre of saline almost through. Twenty-eight per cent Oxygen running at 6 litres via a trauma mask.’
Before Jamie put on the gown and gloves that one of the nursing staff held out for him he passed Sarah a pair of protective goggles. Sarah glanced around the room to ensure that all the staff were wearing theirs.
‘I’ll take care of his airway and head injury if that’s OK with you, Sarah?’ Jamie suggested, already preparing to insert an endotracheal tube into the man’s airway.
‘Fine. Keith and I will check out the rest of his injuries.’ Looking up briefly,
Sarah turned to Elspeth, one of the older nurses who had worked in the department for years. ‘Call Theatre and let them know we might need them. Lizzie, can you—?’
But Lizzie had already anticipated her request and was moving towards the telephone. ‘Call X-Ray and arrange a head CT scan, chest and abdo x-rays, and page Orthopaedics—already on it!’
Dr Thompson placed the leads from the cardiac monitor onto Tom’s chest. As the Dinamap—the machine that measured blood pressure, oxygen saturation and pulse rate—alarmed, he called out, ‘BP dropping—80 over 40, pulse 130.’
‘OK.’ Sarah remained calm, her fingers deftly examining the abdomen and chest of the patient lying motionless in front of her. ‘Let’s get some more fluids into him while we’re waiting for blood to be cross-matched. A bag of Hartmann’s stat, please, Lizzie.’ Frowning slightly, Sarah placed her stethoscope on the left side of Tom’s chest.
‘Need a hand?’ Jamie asked, his eyes intent through his protective visor. ‘He’s intubated, airway patent and clear. His pupils are responding to light but nothing further to be done regarding his head injury until we get that scan.’
Sarah nodded at Jamie. ‘He’s got a left-sided tension pneumothorax—he needs a chest drain now! Elspeth, can you pass me a kit, please?’ Lizzie and Elspeth exchanged worried looks. They knew how serious this condition could be, and there could be other hidden injuries, too.
Swabbing the area over his left side with antiseptic to sterilise the skin, Sarah took the scalpel from Jamie with steady hands. Before she could make contact with the skin, however, the heart monitor emitted a warning bell.
‘He’s in AF!’ Keith called out urgently.
‘Carry on, Sarah, we’ll keep ventilating him,’ Jamie calmly responded, attaching an ambu-bag to the tube he had inserted earlier.
Too focused on her patient to be aware of the mounting tension in the room, she made the small incision into the intercostal space without hesitation. Glancing up she caught Jamie’s almost imperceptible nod of encouragement, both knowing how one wrong slip could be catastrophic. But there was no time to waste. They had to get the young man’s circulation going again and the insertion of the drain was crucial. Taking a long, thin plastic tube, she pushed it with an equal amount of strength and gentleness between Tom’s ribs and into his chest. Suddenly the tube filled with frothy red blood, pouring into the container that it was securely attached to on the floor. Immediately the heart monitor stopped its shrill warning and was replaced by the reassuring beeps that indicate a steady heart rhythm.
