by Andrews, Amy
‘Rough day?’
She nodded and cleared her throat. ‘I came out to enjoy the
sunset and then Nimuk’s mother...’
‘Da,’ Katya said. ‘I heard. It’s very sad.’
Harriet nodded, the urge to laugh hysterically bubbling inside at Katya’s typical understatement. It wasn’t that Katya was unemotional — in fact, she was probably the most intensely fiery and passionate of all of them — but she’d had her release today and now she was just getting on with it.
Harriet fanned her hands in front of her face, feeling the heat there. ‘I’m sorry. I must look a state,’ she said, conscious now that her eyes must be red-rimmed and her face all blotchy.
‘Is this just about Nimuk?’ Katya asked, her shrewd gaze performing a detailed inspection over Harriet’s face. ‘Are you and Gill all right?’
It was on the tip of Harriet’s tongue to deny any problems. In fact, the denial nearly came out before she changed her mind. She was sick of carrying it around by herself for two months and the sudden urge to unburden was intense. ‘No, we’re not all right. We’re all wrong, actually.’
Katya nodded. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, everything
sounded all right this morning.’
Harriet gave a tight laugh. That morning seemed so long ago now. ‘Sex has never been our problem, Katya.’
‘So? What is it?’
Harriet hesitated. She didn’t know how much Katya knew or had been able to piece together about her and Gill’s problems. For all she knew, Gill could have kept everyone up to date. But she doubted it. Gill had always done a bit of an ostrich act and she was convinced, despite their year-long separation, that he had just been waiting for her to come to her senses so they could get on with their lives.
‘I want a baby, Katya.’
‘Ah.’ The other woman nodded sagely. She’d known Gill long enough to know all about his vehement stance on children.
‘He signed the divorce papers this morning.’
‘What? Katya stared at her incredulously. ‘What divorce papers?’
Harriet was surprised at her reaction. She and Gill had been separated for a year after all. Or was Katya like Gill, also just waiting for Harriet to come to her senses and resume her natural position, by her husband’s side? Did the whole team think that, too? Had their joyous celebrations when she’d come back been because they’d been relieved she’d seen the light?
‘I want a baby, Katya. He doesn’t. I can’t stay with him
and deny myself the one thing I want more than anything.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. There is more than one way to skin a cat, Harry. Just get pregnant — easy.’
Harriet’s eyes widened at Katya’s matter-of-fact solution. Although she shouldn’t have been surprised - the Russian nurse was nothing if not practical. ‘I could never do that, Katya! I could never trap him like that.’
‘Is not trapping,’ she said, being practical again. ‘You are already married.’
Harriet rolled her eyes. ‘No, Katya. I would never do that. Never! I want him to want to have a baby with me. Want it with every fibre of his being. I don’t want to accidentally fall pregnant and have to live with knowing deep down that I forced Gill’s hand.’
‘Gill would make an excellent father,’ said Katya.
‘I know, I know,’ Harriet agreed. ‘That’s what makes me so crazy. You should see him with my nephew. He’s fantastic, and little Thomas just adores him. I just don’t understand him.’
‘Sometimes men need a bit of a push.’
Harriet was horrified by the conversation. Yes, right at the beginning the same evil thought had reared its ugly head, but she hadn’t even considered it. That wasn’t playing fair and she’d refused to stoop to such lows.
And now she was having this conversation with a woman seven
years younger than her. But the really awful thing was that in her emotional state it was beginning to sound almost reasonable. She shook herself. ‘I don’t want any baby that he doesn’t want, too, Katya.’
‘So that’s it? All over, red rover?’
Harriet smiled at Katya’s use of Australian colloquialisms. It sounded strange in her accent. All over,’ she whispered.
‘You two are fools,’ said Katya. ‘Look out there.’ Her arm gestured to the great dry land. ‘Some people never get a chance at a love like yours. Isn’t that enough to keep working at it?’
Once she would have thought so but, no, just having his love wasn’t enough anymore. She placed a hand on her stomach as the dull ache continued in her abdomen.
‘No.’ She needed more...
CHAPTER ELEVEN - 1700 HOURS
GILL heard the laughter drifting out to meet him in the hallway as he strode towards the dining room. It was a relief that everyone was laughing again after a subdued couple of hours. No one looked up as he entered, engrossed as they were in their game of poker.
‘Deal me in,’ he said, picking up a cashew from the bowl in the centre of the table and sitting down between Harriet and Siobhan.
Gill picked up his cards and took his share of plastic chips out of Helmut’s felt-lined case, and thanked God for it. It came with Helmut on every mission, even if it meant he had to sacrifice space for clothes, and had been used to while away many a boring hour.
Such was the nature of their work. Frantic hours of intense surgery, churning through a multitude of casualties, mending and patching, mending and patching. And then hours of nothing.
Not that the nothing usually went on for long. Occasionally
they were blessed with a day’s respite...occasionally. And it was in these down times, when they weren’t catching up on their sleep, that they played poker.
He looked across at the other table. Some of Ben’s team were playing Scrabble. They were quiet, concentrating intensely on their letters and the board. The others were lounging around, reading which was a stark contrast to the hilarity and camaraderie of his close-knit team.
Gill couldn’t help but compare the two. The difference between a team that had been together for a long time and a new one were glaringly obvious. Ben’s team didn’t yet have the closeness that was essential in this business. That usually took a while to develop but when it did, it was pure magic.
And one of the many reasons he wanted to do this for ever.
He was conscious of Harriet beside him. He had heard Nimuk’s mother a little while ago and had known how upset she would be. He had tried to resist the urge to seek her out but it had been strange to deny such a basic instinct, stranger still that he hadn’t realised how natural it was for him to play the role of her comforter.
Unfortunately, it was the kind of dynamic that had to stop given they would soon be divorced.
But, they weren’t yet. And so, when he’d seen her up on her balcony, he’d gone to her. It had been too late, though, Katya had beaten him to it and he’d withdrawn. But not before he had heard Katya’s shocking suggestion and Harriet’s horrified rejection.
He didn’t know how he would have reacted if Harry had deliberately set out to get pregnant. He would have been angry at being thrust into a situation he didn’t want to be in, that’s for sure. But realistically what could he have done? Made her terminate the baby? No — she wouldn’t have done it and
it wasn’t something he would have asked of her. Left?
No — that was more her style.
He probably would have just lumped it, but the resentment he’d have felt would not have been healthy for their long-term relationship. There had to be trust in a marriage, and if he couldn’t trust her then ultimately it didn’t matter how much he loved her.
Helmut made a grunting, attention-seeking noise and Gill realised they were waiting for him to discard. He hadn’t even looked at his cards. Sure, he’d been staring at them but his preoccupied mind hadn’t registered any of them.
He caught Siobhan’s gaze over the top of his cards and she winked at him. She was we
aring her usual smug smile and Gill had no doubt she’d clean them all out as per usual. Siobhan always claimed it was the luck of the Irish but Gill had a feeling that she’d been gambling since she’d first learnt to count!
He’d bet his last chip she’d grown up at her father’s knee. And Daddy was a bookie! Plus, she was an excellent bluffer. Her poker face was true Las Vegas and her pile of chips was already double anyone else’s!
Hmmm. A pair of kings. Tossing three cards out, Gill held Siobhan’s unwavering gaze as he picked up his replacements which were all rubbish. But he was careful not to give that fact away. When everyone else folded, he tossed out a chip — she was not going to bluff him this time.
‘Raise you another,’ she said calmly.
He raised her again. She reciprocated and then so did he. Clink - another of her chips hit the growing pile in the middle
of the table.
‘You know you’re going to lose, right?’ Harriet said.
‘Nonsense,’ he dismissed jovially. ‘Not with this hand.’
‘Oh, yeah. She’s so scared,’ said Katya, and they all laughed at her deadpan expression.
‘Raise you another one,’ Siobhan said, tossing in another chip.
‘Back at ya,’ he said, adding his.
‘Give in, man, you can’t win,’ said Joan.
‘Never say never,’ Gill chided lightly as his chips dwindled down to the last few. The kitty was very healthy now.
‘I’ll see you,’ said Siobhan.
Damn! He’d hoped he could bluff her into folding. ‘Pair of kings,’ he said, with a confidence he didn’t feel.
She leaned in close and whispered, ‘Full house.’
The table erupted in whistles and cheers as Siobhan all but cleaned Gill out. Helmut gave her a high five.
They kept playing for a while longer. Gill won back some of his chips, mainly from Harriet who was particularly hopeless at poker, but Siobhan had them all cleaned out within twenty minutes.
Helmut threw his cards on the table in frustration. ‘How
does she do that?’ he asked no one in particular.
Just then a muffled explosion went off somewhere in the distance. Not close but not too far away either. Several more followed in short succession and the atmosphere changed abruptly. There was tension now among the group, alertness.
Cards remained unshuffled, magazines unread, Scrabble tiles untouched as they strained their ears and listened in silence to the popping of distant gunfire and the crump of explosions that continued unabated. It sounded like fireworks but they all knew it wouldn’t be remotely pretty when the wounded started to arrive.
‘We’d better eat something,’ said Gill. ‘No telling when
we’ll next get the chance.’
CHAPTER TWELVE - 1800 HOURS
The incoming-wounded siren wailed across the complex as they were tucking into their reheated frozen dinners. Harriet knew it was coming, the noises of war hadn’t stopped for over half an hour, but the siren was at just the right pitch.
It made her jump every time.
‘Twelve more hours,’ muttered Katya to no one in particular. ‘Couldn’t they have waited twelve more hours to kill each other?’
‘Apparently not,’ said Helmut, pushing away his half-eaten dinner.
Gill’s chair scraped back and he walked over to the ringing
wall phone near the door. ‘Kelly? What’s the story?’
He nodded a lot and said ‘Mmm’ a lot and then replaced the
receiver. ‘The first wave will be arriving in the next fifteen
minutes. We should expect the first patient in half an hour.’
The two teams took in Gill’s statement in silence. No one
got up or rushed and hurried around. The theatres were still set to go from the helicopter crash earlier so all they needed were the patients. Instead, they took a moment to have some silent reflection, mental preparation for the next few gruelling hours.
Harriet wondered if they would still be operating in the
morning when their flight was supposed to be leaving.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
What usually happened on change-over morning was one chopper flew in with the two replacement teams, a handover was given which normally took about an hour, then the same chopper flew out with the two departing teams.
But Harriet knew that neither Gill or Ben’s team would leave in the middle of chaos and that they’d stay until all the victims of this latest skirmish had been dealt with.
The departing helicopter would just have to wait.
A hot wave of nausea crawled up Harriet’s throat. There was nothing new in that. The moment the siren wailed, a surge of adrenaline hit her bloodstream and her body responded in kind. Her heart beat loudly in her chest and her stomach prepared for fright or flight by immediately wanting to evacuate its contents.
She swallowed against the rising urge as she reminded herself it was a basic human reaction to stressful situations. And also, that it was good. For the next how many ever hours it would be adrenaline that kept her on her toes, anticipating Gill’s needs, keeping her one step ahead.
That was a good thing.
It would be awful afterwards. Coming down from the high, the
buzz, was the terrible part. She hated the shaky, strung-out
feeling. How everything around her seemed far away and a fog blanketed her brain, making her thoughts slower and her tongue all thick and dry in her mouth.
The only consolation was that at least she’d be en route to London when it hit. She found London was generally a good antidote to the withdrawal.
To most things, actually.
The dull ache in her side was still there and she contemplated taking some pain killers. It wasn’t exactly painful but as it twinged again she knew she couldn’t afford to have it interfere with the hours of surgery ahead and a couple of tablets usually did the trick.
She rose as the teams were quietly talking about the possible injuries and walked into the kitchen area. A first-aid kit beneath the sink carried basic medication. It was a hard plastic contraption that consisted of a series of little drawers. Each drawer had its contents written on it.
Locating the tablets, Harriet pushed two out of the blister pack and popped them in her mouth, swallowing them down with some bottled water.
‘Are you OK?’
Gill’s deep voice was right near her ear and she could feel his heat directly behind her. It was so tempting to lean into him and she clutched the sink to stop herself from swaying back.
‘Sure,’ she said, turning around, forcing him to take a step back. ‘Just a little niggle.’
‘A niggle? Where?’
‘It’s fine, Gill,’ she said, massaging her side absently. ‘I think I have another cyst building.’
‘Oh...OK.’ He looked discomfited, like he wanted to say something more but didn’t know what. Or if it was wise. ‘Let me know if it gets worse.’
‘It’ll be fine.’ Harriet tried and failed to keep the
irritation out of her voice. The adrenaline was making her
edgy. She didn’t need him to take care of her. She’d been managing just fine without him.
‘I can’t afford to have one of my team not at a hundred per cent. If you’re going to scrub in, I need you to be on top of your game.’
Harriet glared at her husband. ‘When have I ever not been on
my game?’ she demanded.
Gill castigated himself for his stupidity. He was feeling worse than useless where Harriet was concerned and he’d let his frustration get the better of him. She had been badly troubled by the cysts over the years but he didn’t know what she expected of him anymore.
Was he supposed to make a fuss or just nod and let her get on with it?
It wasn’t the right time to get into any kind of conversation about it and he knew from experience that this topic was always fraught. He’d been down this road before and knew i
t was scattered with landmines. Talking about her cysts led to talking about her ovary and then her Fallopian tube and then her fertility and then her desire for a baby.
They had a few minutes before critically injured patients depended on them and he knew he couldn’t go into the operating theatre on the back of an argument. He needed clarity. They could potentially be operating well into the night, if not all night. It was important to not be distracted by external forces.
He couldn’t bring his relationship problems into the operating theatre. One wrong move could be potentially fatal or lengthen the operating time significantly. If he allowed himself to be distracted to the point where mistakes were made, the process slowed and things got backed up.
And potentially people died.
He truly didn’t need this now. Neither of them did. Now was the time for mental preparation. To ride the wave of adrenaline to their advantage. Hone their instincts, sharpen their vision, tune up their mental abilities.
But, if he could have bitten off his tongue right now, he would have. ‘Look, I’m sorry...that was a shitty thing to say. It’s been a hell of a day and I just...worry about you, Harry.’
‘Really?’ She raised delicately arched brows.
‘Yes. Despite everything, you are still my wife. Your
problems are my problems.’
‘Well, don’t worry, Gill,’ she said sweetly but he could hear the steel beneath. ‘Pretty soon they won’t be yours to worry about and you won’t have to worry about me being off my game.’
She pushed herself away from the sink, their arms brushing as she strode away.
Gill sighed. Great! Well done, dufus. The phone rang and he strode across the room and picked it up on the third ring. He listened for a brief second. ‘Shrapnel to the abdomen,’
he announced.
‘I’ll take it.’ Ben nodded and his team rose to do their duty.
‘I wonder if the patient was one of the bastards that shot Peter out of the sky?’ said Katya.
There was silence from everyone as Katya summed up in one sentence the conundrum of their job. Gill tried to forget that
