Single Dad in Her Stocking

by Alison Roberts

  They were getting closer to the front of the queue now and they were all watching as a small girl was lifted onto Father Christmas’s knee. He tilted his head and she cupped her hands around her mouth to keep her wish secret and then beamed at her mother, who was standing beside the photographer. Noticing that the mother’s purse was already open so that she could purchase the image should have scored another point for the commercialism that Max detested but, oddly, it didn’t. What he could see was the love in this mother’s face, her pleasure in having brought her daughter to the Christmas grotto and the sheer joy in the little girl’s face.

  And he remembered something else then. From the time before he had learned to dismiss everything about Christmas. He remembered being taken to see Father Christmas when he wouldn’t have been much older than Ben. With Andy, who would have been about Tilly’s age. And their mother had been watching them with love written all over her face and...and...

  And he could remember the magic. The belief that the man in the red suit could make something special happen. He could also remember that belief becoming something even bigger when he’d come downstairs on Christmas morning to find the gift he’d set his heart on underneath the tree—his first two-wheeler bike with red tinsel wrapped all over it. His wish had come true and it was the best thing ever.

  Look at that... His mother had the biggest smile on her face as she stood there wrapped in his father’s arms. I wonder how Father Christmas got that down the chimney?

  Max had known. By magic. And even though he knew perfectly well now that it had been his parents who’d put the bike there, he also knew that there had been magic involved. The kind of magic that Emma had been talking about in the bonds within a family. About the sharing and celebration and joy. And she had been right about something else too. These particular children needed to find new bonds that they could trust enough to feel safe and they needed a particularly special Christmas this year.

  But he needed help to make that happen. From someone who knew far more about children than he did. Someone who knew more about families than he did and who was warm and caring enough to be able to encourage the connections that would lead to bonds that could form and then get stronger and stronger.

  ‘Do you want to go and visit Emma after we’re finished here?’ he asked Ben and Tilly. ‘It’s not far away to where she’s working in my hospital. If we find out what she needs to help you make stars, we could pick that up on the way home.’

  * * *

  Emma’s first thought when she came out of a curtained cubicle and saw Max Cunningham coming into the emergency department of the Royal with the three children in tow was that something was wrong. Her heart skipped a beat as she imagined one of the children was ill or injured and that must have shown in her face as she walked towards them because Max was smiling reassuringly.

  More than reassuringly, actually. He was smiling at Emma as if she was the person he most wanted to see in the world and her body was responding with that glow of warmth and funny tingling thing that went down to her toes. It was impossible not to smile back. Or to hold the gaze of those amazingly blue eyes. He’d always been a very good-looking man but ageing ten years had added a maturity that was even more appealing. It wasn’t hard to stamp on her body’s response, though, and tell herself how stupid it would be to entertain any ideas of Max being aware of any physical reactions to her proximity. She only had to remember how he’d laughed after that kiss. How quick he’d been to reassure her.

  ‘Don’t worry, Emma, you’re completely safe. We both know you’re so not my type and I’m certainly not yours...’

  She’d laughed along with him, albeit a heartbeat later. He was right. What woman in her right mind would willingly go near someone who was guaranteed to break their heart if they were silly enough to fall for him?

  Her smile was fading as the memory flashed through the back of her mind but Max was still beaming at her.

  ‘We just came in to say hullo,’ he said. ‘I wondered how things were going?’

  ‘Everything’s great,’ Emma assured him. ‘It was quiet enough first thing for me to get to know my way around and meet most of the staff. Miriam’s been amazingly helpful.’

  The senior nurse was making a beeline for the group as she was speaking.

  ‘Emma’s a complete pro,’ she told Max. ‘I doubt there’s anything she couldn’t cope with.’ But Miriam’s attention was on the children and she automatically reached into the buggy to unclip and pick up the baby as Alice began to whimper. ‘May I?’

  ‘Please do,’ Max said. ‘But she’s due for a nappy change and a bottle. We’ve been busy visiting Father Christmas in Derby’s department store.’

  ‘Just the sort of thing a grandma is expert in,’ Miriam responded, as she gathered Alice into her arms. ‘Is everything in that bag there?’

  ‘She’s hungry,’ Ben told Miriam.

  ‘I think you’re right, lovey. And what about you? We’ve got some lovely Christmas cookies in our staffroom that look like snowmen. Would you like to come and have some?’

  Ben nodded solemnly and Emma had to smile as she saw Tilly’s hand slide into his. If her big brother was going to get cookies, she wanted to go too.

  Max was still smiling as he watched Miriam take Ben’s hand to lead both the older children towards the staffroom.

  ‘You look like you’re having a good day,’ she said.

  ‘So far, so good.’ Max nodded. ‘I did want to get close enough to hear what Ben and Tilly were asking Father Christmas for but it didn’t work.’ He raised an eyebrow at Emma. ‘Maybe you could find out? I’d really like to put something special under the tree for them both.’

  Was he expecting her to be heading back to the Cunningham house after work? It was only then that Emma realised she hadn’t made any effort to look for alternative accommodation yet. She’d been far too focused on her work in this new emergency department. She could find out, she thought. She could help the children write a letter to Father Christmas, maybe, to put into the fire so it went up the chimney. If she promised to keep their secrets, they might tell her exactly what to write.

  ‘Oh, we got a tree too,’ Max continued. ‘And they both chose some decorations to go on it. Ben got a box of tin soldiers and Tilly chose an angel to go on top of the tree—although she thinks it’s a fairy.’ His gaze was roaming around his department over Emma’s shoulder. ‘So...have you had any excitement?’

  ‘Not really. We’ve only used a resuscitation room once, for a serious stroke that came in early this morning. Apart from that, it’s been the usual range of problems like chest pain and asthma and some diabetes complications. There was an interesting tib/fib fracture, though...it—’

  But Max obviously wasn’t listening. His gaze was fixed behind Emma. About where the first set of automatic doors to the ambulance bay were.

  ‘Something’s happening,’ he interrupted her.

  Emma turned swiftly to see someone standing outside the outer doors that needed a code to open. It was a man who had a child in his arms and, even from this distance, Emma could see that the child was bleeding heavily. One of the two paramedics who were using the space between the sets of doors to finish some paperwork and clean a stretcher moved to press the button that would open the doors at the same time as both Emma and Max had moved close enough for the inner doors to slide open.

  ‘There’s more.’ The man carrying the injured child was out of breath and sounded panicked. ‘Out on the main road. A truck just smashed into about three parked cars. They need help...’

  Another ED consultant was right behind Max and Emma.

  ‘I’ll take him,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to activate the trauma team as well?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Both Emma and Max spoke at the same time and she had the immediate thought that perhaps she should let Max take charge of this emergency, even t
hough, technically, she was here to do his job. He must have felt her swift glance because he caught her gaze and he clearly wasn’t thinking about whether or not he was even supposed to be there.

  ‘We’d better get out there,’ he said. ‘We’re needed.’

  Emma hadn’t been waiting for his direction. She was already heading for the outer doors despite being in her scrubs, with nothing more than a long-sleeved tee shirt underneath the tunic.

  ‘I’ll get our kit,’ one of the paramedics said. He turned to his partner. ‘You bring the truck so we can transport more quickly.’

  Glancing back into the department as the child was carried inside for assessment and treatment, Emma saw Max hesitating for a brief moment before he followed her and he too was looking back into the department. Towards the staffroom where Miriam had taken the children to give them cookies? Emma could sense that he was struggling with something different this time. Not who should take charge of this incident but with his new responsibilities as a father figure clashing with what he was programmed to respond to as an emergency physician. Was this another reminder of just how much his life was changing? His next words confirmed her line of thought.

  ‘Tell Miriam where I am,’ he called after his colleague. ‘Ask her to keep an eye on the children for me?’

  And then they were outside and running towards the scene that lay just out of the hospital grounds, in the direction that Emma had taken only yesterday when she’d walked with Max to see his apartment. The same intersection where they’d waited for the traffic lights to change and she’d noticed the impressive overhead decorations of icicle lights. Any thought of pretty things to do with Christmas was totally incongruous at this moment, however. It looked as though a large truck had failed to notice the line of stationary cars waiting at a red light and had smashed into the end of the line, in a nose-to-tail concertina of at least three vehicles that suggested a great deal of speed had been involved. The truck had tipped sideways with the impact and there was another vehicle almost hidden beneath the body of the truck.

  Emma had seen plenty of road traffic accidents over the years but nothing quite like this. There was a crowd gathering, with people trying to get into vehicles where doors had been crushed and couldn’t open. They must have come from the lines of traffic now building up in a traffic jam on all sides of the intersection because many of them looked deserted, with doors hanging open. There were flashing lights and sirens coming from all directions as emergency service vehicles rushed to the scene but, even over all that noise, Emma could hear the cries of frightened people. Her steps slowed as she got closer to the carnage and—although Max had been a step or two ahead of her the whole time they’d been running—he seemed to sense the distance between them increasing and he also slowed, turning back to catch her gaze.

  ‘You okay, Em?’

  She nodded, sucking in a deep, deep breath. She knew she had the skills to tackle a scene like this but, for this moment, it was overwhelming. The temptation to hang back and allow Max to take the lead was strong but there was something equally strong and that was a hard-won determination to face up to the most difficult things life could throw at her and Emma wasn’t about to throw away any part of her confidence in being able to do that successfully.

  Max was still holding her gaze and it felt as if he could sense that momentary doubt. As if he was having a similar one of his own, even, and wondering if he should take the lead.

  ‘We’re right beside the hospital,’ she said, turning her head now to survey the scene and assess the dangers and where they might be needed as a priority. ‘All we need to do at this point is to make sure they’re stable enough to get them inside. Basics. Airway, breathing, circulation. Look after the cervical spine. We’ve got lots of help. The firies will cut into the vehicles for us if it’s needed. The paramedics can direct the extrication and transfer.’

  ‘Here...’ A paramedic was coming towards them. ‘Put these on.’

  ‘These’ were fluorescent vests with the word ‘Doctor’ on the back on a reflective strip.

  ‘No...hang on...’ A female paramedic was pulling off her jacket, which she handed to Emma. ‘You’re going to freeze in scrubs. Put this on first.’

  ‘But what about you?’

  ‘I’ve got something else I can wear.’

  ‘Has anybody started triage?’ Max asked.

  ‘We’ve only just got here. That’s our MCI command vehicle arriving now, behind the fire truck.’

  Emma knew that MCI stood for Mass Casualty Incident. She looked at the line of crushed vehicles. Should they start at the front and work back? One of the cars was sandwiched between one in front and one behind and it looked as though the damage in that case was worse than the others. But what about the vehicle beneath the overturned truck?

  Max clearly wanted to start the work that urgently needed to be done here. Emma shoved her arms into the warm jacket.

  ‘Have you got triage labels?’

  The paramedic who’d opened the ambulance bay doors of the Royal to let in the man with the injured child was beside Emma now. ‘I’ve got them,’ he said. ‘Can you come with me? We’ll do a first sweep and if you’re both with me, I can leave you to start treating any red labels and move on. We still don’t know what we’re dealing with in terms of numbers or severity of injuries.’

  Emma had worked with the triage labelling system as well. A red label meant that the victim could only survive with immediate treatment. They might have an obstructed airway or rate of respiration that was far too slow or fast, a very rapid heart rate or an absent radial pulse indicating low blood pressure, potentially from severe blood loss.

  The first car in the line had been shunted well into the intersection. There were bystanders clustered around the driver’s side of the car. The window was broken and Emma could see the deflated airbag hanging from the steering wheel.

  ‘She’s awake,’ someone told them. ‘She says her neck hurts and she doesn’t want to try moving.’

  She was conscious, breathing and talking so this driver wasn’t going to get a red label indicating the need for urgent intervention to save a life. A potential neck injury could still be serious but it could wait.

  ‘Tell her to keep as still as possible,’ the paramedic instructed. ‘Someone will be with her very soon.’

  They moved swiftly to the next vehicle. The paramedic was using his radio to relay information to the person who was taking charge of the scene and would use the available resources of people and equipment according to information coming in and any changes during the operation. Police officers were on scene now, as well, moving bystanders out of the way and trying to clear the blocked traffic.

  There were two people inside the second vehicle, both conscious.

  ‘It’s my leg,’ the front seat passenger groaned. ‘I think it’s broken.’

  The driver was only semi-conscious. ‘Where am I?’ she mumbled. ‘What’s happened?’

  More paramedics had arrived on scene and were immediately dispatched to manage these patients.

  It was the third car in the line that was the most seriously damaged, apart from the one beneath the truck, and it was rapidly, sadly clear that there was nothing they could do for this woman. Her black triage label was a sombre confirmation that the rescue teams were not needed.

  ‘Maybe if we’d got here a bit faster?’ Emma said.

  But Max shook his head. ‘Unsurvivable injuries. I suspect the force from behind and the weight of obstruction in front was enough to just snap her neck.’

  A fire crew was close and had a tarpaulin to put over the car containing the fatality.

  ‘Truck driver seems uninjured,’ they told Emma and Max. ‘Got himself out of the cab. The cops are having a word with him.’

  ‘I’ll go and check him out.’ The paramedic’s tone was carefully neutral. It was obvious that the t
ruck driver was responsible for this horrific crash that had killed at least one person but they couldn’t make judgements about the driver involved. It was possible that it was a medical event or mechanical failure that had caused him to hit a line of stationary vehicles at high speed.

  The fire crew was also making decisions about how to get to the car trapped beneath the truck and Emma heard someone talking about stabilising the truck until they could get the machinery they needed to lift it clear. Looking at how crushed the car was, with its roof almost down past the level of the steering wheel, she fully expected that the driver would be another fatality. She bent to try and look through the front window on the passenger’s side.

  ‘Careful, there, Doc,’ one of the fire officers shouted. ‘We’re not sure how stable it is.’

  The call was enough to have Max by her side instantly and it felt as though he was there to try and protect her. He was certainly ready to assist. Or did he want to take over?

  ‘What can you see?’

  ‘Facial injuries. I can’t see any chest wall movement...’ Emma had her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she scanned the driver’s body as best she could. The seat had been flattened by the roof being crushed so he was lying almost flat, still wearing his seat belt. She couldn’t see any major bleeding other than the injury to his face but... ‘Oh...’ Emma felt her heart skip a beat. ‘I can see chest wall movement. He’s breathing. Or trying to...’

  Max had his head right beside hers now, as he tried to get a visual assessment of the crash victim. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his skin and, like the way he’d looked at her when they’d first arrived on this scene, it seemed that just being close to him was empowering Emma with more confidence than she’d ever known she had.

  She turned to the fire crew. ‘I have to get in here,’ she said. ‘It’s urgent.’

  ‘We’re still assessing how stable this truck is. We can’t start cutting the car up for access until we’ve got jacks in place or lifted the chassis clear.’