by Joanna Neil
Still he hesitated, and then she heard Rhys’s voice saying, ‘I’ll go with her. It could be a two-handed job to get him safely down. If you can rig up some sort of board to shield us from the worst of any falling masonry, we’ll do what we can to treat him up there and make sure he’s safe to be brought down.’
Emma turned to face him, her eyes widening. ‘Rhys—what are you doing here?’
‘They called the air ambulance because the lunchtime traffic has brought everything to a standstill. The helicopter is the only way to get your patient to the burns unit quickly. They’re taking him now, with a crew from the ambulance, and they’ll come back for us.’
‘I’m glad you’re here.’ Relief washed over her. Somehow, with Rhys by her side, the operation ahead didn’t seem quite so daunting.
He nodded, and then looked up at the collapsed building. ‘This brings back memories, doesn’t it?’ He grimaced. ‘But you’re right. We can’t leave him. A few minutes could make all the difference.’
By now the fire crew had managed to rig up a platform, and the fire chief said flatly, ‘You might not get to spend very long up there, and it’s going to be tricky. There’s not much room to manoeuvre. Bear in mind, we’ll pull you out at the first sign of any movement.’
Emma and Rhys were strapped into safety harnesses and then were winched up to the third storey of the building. On a level with the fallen man, they had to negotiate a hastily constructed walkway of planks secured against a joist.
Being smaller and lighter, Emma went first, while Rhys helped to manoeuvre medical equipment and pass it along to her.
She knelt down beside the man, who was obviously in a lot of pain and was becoming agitated. ‘I need to get out of here,’ he said. ‘Why don’t they send a fireman? What can you do?’
‘I’m a doctor,’ Emma said, trying to keep a soothing tone. ‘They told me your name is Rob…is that right?’
He nodded, and she added, ‘I need to find out where you are hurt, Rob. Bear with me for a while, will you?’ She pulled her medical pack towards her and began to take note of his vital signs. ‘Can you tell me if you can feel this…and this?’ She checked his reflexes and finally reported back to Rhys.
‘His collar-bone is fractured, and his ankle is dislocated,’ she said. ‘It’s cold and discoloured, and there’s no pulse. We don’t have time to wait to get him to hospital. The ankle needs to be realigned right now so that we can get the circulation back.’
‘OK. I’ll come and help.’ Rhys began to edge his way towards them, and as he did so the stonework beneath them started to crumble.
He stopped, and Emma held her breath. Her heart was pounding. After a moment he adjusted his weight on the planks and began moving towards them once more. This time there was no shifting of the masonry, and Emma set about strapping Rob into a harness, trying to avoid moving his arm so that no stress was put on the collar-bone.
Above them, bits of rubble fell on to the canvas sheeting that had been roughly clamped in place to provide a makeshift shield. Emma shuddered. How long could they rely on it to hold up?
‘We’ll put the knee in flexion to reduce tension on the Achilles tendon,’ Rhys said. ‘Then we’ll apply traction to the foot while maintaining countertraction to the knee.’
Emma acknowledged that. To Rob, she said, ‘I don’t understand why you were still up here when everyone else went down to the ground floor at the first sign of a fire. You could have made it to the stairs before this section collapsed, couldn’t you?’
In part, she was talking to him, trying to take his mind off the procedure they were trying to enact. Although they had given him a local anaesthetic, it was not an easy manoeuvre.
‘I didn’t feel well,’ he said. ‘I think it must have been something I’d eaten. I felt dizzy and sick, and I just couldn’t get my head together. I was planning on going home, but the boss had me go up and sort out a fault. He knew I felt rough, but I think he thought I’d been on the booze and it was just an excuse.’
Emma made a face. ‘Not your caring, considerate boss, then.’
‘Not by a long way.’
Rhys narrowed his eyes as more masonry started to crumble above them. ‘We’ll mention your sickness to the doctors at the hospital and they’ll check you out. In the meantime, we should start trying to get you out of here.’
He immobilised the ankle and then applied a sling to Rob’s arm in order to steady the fractured collar-bone. As soon as he had done that, he called to the waiting fire crew.
‘We can start to move him out now.’ He helped Emma to move back across the planks and onto the platform, and then handed over the medical equipment. ‘You go,’ he said. ‘I’ll follow.’
She did as he suggested, and waited for him to descend, too, but he didn’t immediately. Instead, he stayed to help the firemen bring Rob down, and she waited, back on firm ground, holding her breath and praying that there would be no more slippage of the fabric of the building.
The press had arrived to capture the moment, and Emma tried to escape, hoping to blend in with the crowd. She didn’t want to be subjected to a barrage of questions and find herself in the papers once more.
As soon as Rob was safely down, they transferred him to a stretcher and hurriedly conveyed him to the helicopter. The doors closed, shutting out the rest of the world, and within moments they were airborne.
They went with Rob to A and E. It wasn’t their usual procedure, but Rhys said softly, ‘We’ll grab a drink and something to eat from the cafeteria, shall we? My mouth is dry after all that brick dust. We can be ready to move if James bleeps us.’
He looked at her closely, as though trying to gauge what was going on in her head, but Emma was feeling numb, her mind drifting in a surreal place, trapped in a nightmare of shattered brickwork and broken limbs.
‘I don’t suppose you had lunch, did you?’ Rhys said.
Emma blinked and glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘No, I didn’t get around to it.’ She realised with a sense of shock that the afternoon shift was already drawing to a close. She had been engrossed in Rob’s predicament and, perhaps because she had been to her father’s place earlier, it had brought memories flooding back…bad memories. Events had taken their toll on her and now she found that she was shaking.
‘Dr Benton.’ The on-call surgeon touched Rhys’s arm. ‘May I have a quick word with you about the patient you just brought in?’
‘Of course.’ Rhys moved to one side, and Emma heard them discussing Rob’s medication. The surgeon seemed to be pleased with the way Emma and Rhys had acted to improve the patient’s circulation.
‘Another collapsed building…you must be getting used to those by now.’ A voice cut into her thoughts, scraping along her nerve endings like a knife. She turned and looked into the eyes of the reporter who had been at the boating accident. ‘I heard our man escaped with a few broken bones. He told me he hadn’t been feeling well before it happened. Something he ate, he said.’
He came and stared her in the face, his manner thrusting, persistent. ‘Do you want to add anything to that?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve nothing to say.’ She turned and started to walk away in the opposite direction.
‘Hmm…’ He came after her. ‘I can understand how you might want to get out of here. There are a lot of sick people about. Some food bug going around, they say. Not pleasant, is it?’ His mouth twisted. ‘But you’d know all about food poisoning, wouldn’t you? What was it at your dad’s place? A bad batch of mayonnaise?’
Emma sucked in a quick breath. What was it with this man that he kept following her around, asking questions? Why was he so determined to rake up past history? She wanted to turn around and shout at him, to tell him to leave her alone, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose her cool.
He caught up with her and tried to jump in front of her and block her path, but Rhys must have seen what was going on because he quickly ended his conversation with th
e doctor and moved to waylay him. He said in a grim tone, ‘That’s enough from you. If I catch you questioning her again, I’ll call the police and have you charged with harassment. Stay away.’
The reporter sent him an assessing look. Perhaps it was the steely glint that flared in Rhys’s eyes, or maybe it was the rigid set of his shoulders that decided him, but clearly he thought better of getting into an argument with him. He backed down, retreating a fraction, his gaze simmering with the frustration of being thwarted.
‘What was all that about?’ Rhys asked as they went to buy packs of sandwiches and filled polystyrene cups with coffee to take out from the cafeteria. He clamped lids in place on the cups and took them to the checkout.
‘I’m not sure.’ Emma frowned. ‘I wasn’t aware that the food scare was common knowledge.’
He turned his gaze on her. ‘What food scare? You’re not talking about the people in A and E, are you?’ They walked along the corridor towards the lifts.
Emma shook her head. ‘No. It was an incident at the restaurant—my father’s restaurant—but I don’t know how the reporter would have known about that…unless he’s been talking to people that my father employed at one time.’
‘So there was more trouble with your father’s business?’
She pressed her lips together. Was he going to assume that her father was at fault in everything? She said carefully, ‘My dad recruited someone to take over when his first chef was offered a job elsewhere. The sous chef wasn’t at all happy about that, because he had hoped for the position, and when he didn’t get it, we think he started to become sloppy in his work. The new chef and my dad had to speak to him about it on a number of occasions.’
The lift doors opened and they stepped inside. Rhys pressed the button for the top floor.
‘One day I sampled some of the mayonnaise that he had prepared, and afterwards I became violently ill—it was lucky that none of the dressing was sent out with the meals, because it turned out that it was infected with salmonella. The sous chef was defensive and thought my father blamed him, but he didn’t. He simply told him that from then on he was to have the ingredients brought in from different suppliers.’
She glanced up at him. ‘I suppose you think we deserve all our troubles, but my dad has always tried to do the right thing. He’s a businessman, but he does care about the people around him and he always tried to be an understanding employer.’
Rhys didn’t answer. The lift doors opened, and he followed as she walked out onto the roof of the hospital.
‘Let’s go and sit on Chris’s garden terrace,’ he suggested, and she acquiesced readily enough, walking with him towards a corner where an assortment of flowering tubs and rustic boxes had been assembled. The copilot was a keen gardener, and he had livened up this tiny area of his workplace with brightly coloured blooms and trellised planters that supported climbing shrubs and served to provide shelter from the breeze.
They sat on the lids of painted wooden boxes that were made for the purpose and which also housed his garden tools. Chris was a perfectionist, and everything was in its place.
Emma opened her lunch wrapping, placing her coffee-cup on the box beside her. ‘Thanks for making the reporter back off,’ she said, taking a bite of a sandwich and savouring the taste of crispy lettuce and cucumber. ‘I don’t think he was about to take any notice of what I said.’
‘I could see that you were feeling low,’ he murmured, swallowing his coffee. ‘It must have been difficult for you, going up on to that ledge, knowing that it wasn’t safe. I remember how you stayed with Amy when she was injured. You leaned over her to protect her from falling debris, and you did what you could to stem the worst of the bleeding. By the time I arrived there, she was very weak, but I think it was you who kept her going.’
‘My father stayed with her, too.’
‘Yes, but he felt that he owed it to her, and that it was his duty to be there. You stayed because you hoped you could save her life and you wanted to give her comfort.’
She frowned. ‘I don’t believe either of us was thinking very clearly. I know that we both wanted to do everything that we could for her.’
Emma lifted her gaze to him, her green eyes troubled. ‘It was a dreadful day and now it keeps coming back to haunt us. I don’t know why the reporter keeps hounding us this way. What does he hope to achieve?’
Rhys put out a hand and touched the wayward curls at the side of her temple. ‘Perhaps he feels rejected. He wanted to get to know you better, didn’t he? Only, like the rest of us, you were too busy trying to find a way out of the nightmare.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You saw what was going on with him?’
He nodded, his fingers moving to gently tuck the strands of hair behind her ear. She loved the feel of his hand on her face and she savoured the moment. His thumb brushed her cheek, and warmth enveloped her, wrapping itself around her.
He moved closer, his head bent towards her, his gaze focussed on the softness of her lips, and she held her breath, trying to gauge what was in his mind, daring to wonder whether he might be about to kiss her.
‘I saw a lot of things very clearly that day,’ he said huskily, ‘as though time had stood still and encapsulated the moment. You were my sister’s best friend and we had all been going around together with a crowd for as long as I could remember, being carefree and having fun, enjoying life simply because we were young and that’s what life was all about.’
His mouth straightened. ‘But it had to come to an end…there always comes a time when we put our youth behind us and move on. I suppose I had always known that it would happen some day, and I was getting ready to let go…but I just hadn’t reckoned on there being such a final moment.’
A line etched its way into her brow. What did he mean? What was he saying? Was he really putting into words what she had known all along? That small crumb of comfort she had briefly tasted was rapidly dissolving on her tongue.
Slowly, he let his hand fall to his side, almost as though he was reluctant to let her go, and then he started to ease back from her.
‘Everything changed that day. I wasn’t expecting it…none of us were…but it’s etched on our minds, in different ways for each one of us, and it seems as if there’s no going back.’
Their pagers bleeped in unison, and Emma blinked, checking the gadget at her waist and cutting off the sound with the push of a button. She looked around and tried to take in the reality of where they were. Another call had come in and now they swept into action, brushing aside the debris of their lives.
Rhys didn’t care for her, not in the way that she wanted him to care. He had made that all too clear. He was moving on, and if it didn’t seem that way in physical terms, most definitely in his mind he had already left her.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘CAN you believe this?’ Emma’s father threw the newspaper down onto the coffee-table and began to pace the floor. ‘How did he manage to get hold of the information? It’s all there, in black and white for everyone to see…the plans for the new restaurant, the date when we’re looking to start up.’
He pressed his lips together in exasperation. ‘And then the clincher…all the gory details about a food-poisoning incident, as if that was anything at all to do with our enterprise. No matter that it was a supplier at fault and we nipped it in the bud before there was any problem. Is this reporter trying to finish me off?’
Emma was dismayed. ‘It’s beginning to look as though he has a problem with us, doesn’t it?’ Another article…another depressing setback to her father’s hopes of making a fresh start. She glanced at him, distressed to see the rigid set of his mouth and the lines of strain that were carved into his face.
From across the room, Kayla looked at him curiously. The little girl was sitting on the rug, playing with the spaniel, but now she asked, ‘Are you cross? Have they put your picture in the newspaper? Emma’s picture was in there, you know.’
Emma’s father glanced at the child. ‘I�
��m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to startle you. No, everything’s fine. I think I just need to go and get some fresh air.’
Kayla nodded wisely. ‘We do that…Mummy and me. We take Samson for a walk on the common.’
Samson’s ears pricked up at his favourite word and Kayla gave him a cuddle. ‘I’ll take you outside,’ she said, glancing at Emma for confirmation.
Emma nodded. ‘Don’t go beyond the courtyard, though.’
She looked back at her father with affection. He was in his fifties, still a fine-looking man, his eyes the same clear green as her own, though his brown hair was starting to grey a little at the edges now and his shoulders were bent, as though the burden of censure was starting to weigh him down. She could see that the struggle to stay on top of things was getting to be too much for him.
He had worked hard all his life in the construction trade, working overtime in order to build up his finances. He had started with nothing, and everything he had achieved had been brought about by physical effort and sheer determination.
‘I should go,’ he said. ‘I only dropped by to thank you for checking over the building work for me the other day…and I’ve a thousand other jobs waiting for me.’
Emma laughed and saw him to the door. ‘You work too hard,’ she said. ‘You should try slowing down a bit.’
‘That’s not really an option,’ he murmured, bending to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Anyway, you can’t talk…this must be the first weekend off you’ve had in weeks.’
It was an exaggeration, but she was still dwelling on that when she looked out into the street and saw a familiar figure coming towards her. She frowned. What was Rhys doing here?
Her father must have asked himself the same question. He stood very still and Emma heard his swift intake of breath.
‘Rhys,’ he murmured cautiously as he approached. ‘It’s good to see you again. It seems to have been a long time since I last saw you…I heard that you and Emma were working together now.’
Rhys nodded an acknowledgement. ‘We are, and you’re right, it has been a long time.’ There was an awkward moment, as both men appeared to be sizing each other up.
