Emergency at Bayside Page 3

  ‘What does Mum have to say about it?’ Meg asked slowly.

  ‘Well, the fact we want to get married so quickly— on Valentine’s Day, actually—led to a few sticky questions, but we’ve finally managed to convince her that it’s not a shotgun wedding. We’re just head over heels and want to do it as soon as possible. She’s tickled pink, actually, and insisting that we have an engagement party. But I’ve told her that the most we want is a casual dinner.’

  Meg gave a wry laugh. ‘So no doubt she’ll spend tomorrow on the telephone, ringing up hundreds of relatives.’

  ‘Probably,’ Kathy conceded. ‘But after she’s been in to see you, of course,’ she added hastily. ‘Whoops, look like I’d better make myself scarce—here comes Flynn now.’

  Meg screwed up her forehead. ‘Flynn? Do you know him?’

  ‘He’s a friend of Jake’s…’ As Flynn approached the bed Kathy’s voice trailed off.

  ‘Good evening, Meg—Kathy.’ He gave her sister a friendly nod.

  ‘Hi, Flynn. I’ll leave you to it; see you in the morning, Sis.’ Popping a quick kiss on Meg’s cheek, Kathy limped off.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Better. Well, sore but better.’ The beginning of a blush was creeping over her cheeks.

  ‘That’s good. You’ve had a very lucky escape, Meg, all your tests have come back as normal. Apart from a lot of bruising, which is going to hurt for a while, and a mild concussion, you’ve got off very lightly.’ He peered at his notes for a moment, and Meg watched as he fiddled uncomfortably with his pen. ‘Can you remember what happened yet?’

  Meg shook her head. Normally she would have left it there, but there was something about Flynn, something about the way he had smiled at her this morning, the drama they had shared, that made her take the plunge and for the first time in ages prolong a conversation. ‘No, but I do remember you offering to save me a Danish pastry. You didn’t, by any chance, did you?’

  Her attempt at small talk was instantly to her dying shame rebuffed.

  ‘Apparently the police seem to think that you might have fallen asleep at the wheel.’

  Embarrassed at his businesslike tone, Meg felt her blush only deepen. ‘I didn’t!’

  ‘There were no skid marks at the scene, and apparently you were exhausted when you left this morning—though Jess told only me that, I hasten to add. I haven’t written it in my notes.’ He ran a hand through his hair, an exasperated tone creeping into his voice. ‘Why the hell didn’t you get a taxi?’

  She knew he was wrong, knew somehow that the picture he was painting wasn’t how it had happened, but her total lack of recall didn’t put her in the best position to argue the point.

  ‘I didn’t fall asleep,’ Meg intoned.

  ‘The police…’

  ‘The police are wrong,’ she retorted quickly. ‘And anyway, it’s none of your business.’ She knew she was being rude, but something about Flynn had her acting completely out of character. The little hint about the Danish pastry, the blush that wouldn’t go away—and now she was answering him back. It wasn’t actually out of character. It was more the old Meg. The Meg before Vince had extinguished every last piece of her fiery personality.

  Flynn begged to differ. ‘Oh, but it is my business, young lady. It became my business at precisely four minutes past eight this morning, when I stabilised your neck in the wreckage of your car.’ His voice was curt and formal, with no hint of the man who had held her hand just this morning, cajoled her to stay awake—who, even in the most dire of circumstances, had actually managed to make her laugh. ‘It became my business when I found out that one of the nurses in my department was so damned tired after her night shift she nearly killed herself. And,’ he added, standing over her so she had no choice but to look at him, ‘had you wiped out an entire family, no doubt it would have been left to me to deal with it. So you see, Meg—’ his lip curled around her name ‘—it is my business.’

  Despite his anger, it wasn’t a no holds barred attack, Meg realised. Not once had he mentioned the very real danger he had put himself in by staying with her throughout the ordeal, and his modest omission somehow touched her.

  He stood there for a moment, his eyes challenging her to respond, but she was too tired and too utterly defeated to argue. ‘Right, then. I’ve spoken to your parents, and I’m happy for you to be discharged tomorrow as long as you go and stay with them.’

  ‘That’s all I need,’ Meg muttered ungraciously.

  ‘I want the physio to see you before you go and run through some deep breathing exercises. Your chest is badly bruised and it’s important he sees you.’

  ‘No.’

  Flynn let out an exasperated sigh.

  ‘The catheter I can understand your objection to— but physio, for heaven’s sake? Do you have to argue about everything?’

  ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘So enlighten me.’

  ‘Jake Reece is the Emergency physio,’ Meg started, her eyes darting around the obs ward to check that Kathy had definitely gone.

  ‘So why is that a problem?

  ‘He’s marrying my sister.’

  Flynn’s face broke into a grin then, and for a second he looked like the Flynn from this morning. ‘Jake and Kathy are getting married? That’s fantastic news.’ He seemed to remember she was there then, and stared at her, perplexed. ‘So why on earth don’t you want him to see you?’

  ‘Because, unlike you, I’m not exactly thrilled with the news.’

  ‘Why?’ He seemed genuinely bemused and Meg couldn’t believe that he didn’t understand how she was feeling.

  ‘He’s her physiotherapist, for heaven’s sake. Kathy’s handicapped. It’s wrong.’

  His face changed. She saw his bemused look change to one of distaste.

  ‘Please don’t try to tell me that you’re so politically correct you haven’t even noticed.’

  ‘Of course I’ve noticed. Kathy has also told me about it herself. Unlike you, she doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. From what I can remember of our conversation, she has mild cerebral palsy from birth, which has left her with a limp and a minor speech impediment. What she didn’t tell me, but I soon found out for myself, is that she happens to be a fun, happy, caring and very attractive woman.’

  ‘He’s ten years older than her.’

  ‘Hardly a hanging offence.’ He paused then, eyeing her carefully before continuing. ‘As you yourself pointed out, he’s her physio, not her doctor. They will have spent a lot of time together. If you got down off your high horse and actually spent some time with them, instead of judging them, you might find yourself pleasantly surprised.’

  And, after signing off her discharge papers, he left her lying there.

  Lying there for all the world wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MEG’S childhood had ended at nine years old.

  The day Kathy was born.

  She had spent endless afternoons sitting after school in a waiting room doing her homework while Mary took her youngest daughter to a seemingly never-ending round of appointments. Paediatricians, speech therapists, occupational therapists—the list had been endless.

  The only person who had taken it all in her stride, literally, had been Kathy. Defying the doctors’ grim prognosis, she had cheerfully picked herself up, over and over, until finally at the age of four she had taken her first steps. Her optimistic, sunny nature had served her well in the playground also, with Kathy making friends easily and keeping them. A group of little girls Meg had referred to as ‘Kathy’s army’. But Kathy’s army hadn’t always been there for her, and the playground hadn’t been the only place a child like Kathy could run into trouble or become the victim of a cruel and thoughtless taunt.

  So, from the day Kathy had come home from the hospital, Meg had taken it upon herself to look out for her. It was almost as if Meg had been fitted with an inbuilt radar, constantly on the alert, always lo
oking out for her little sister.

  And even though the callipers had long since gone, even though Kathy was nineteen years old now, and, as Flynn had pointed out, extremely attractive with a social life that would exhaust anyone, Meg’s radar was still there. The protective feelings Meg had for her little sister hadn’t faded one iota. That was why she was cautious of Jake. She certainly wasn’t the bigot Flynn had implied. Her concern here was only to save Kathy from being hurt. After all, Meg knew better than most how easily your heart could be broken.

  But a couple of weeks at home, hiding away in her old bedroom, reading again the wonderful books that had fuelled her childhood and eating the inordinate meals that appeared every few hours, had given Meg plenty of time for reflection and introspection, and somewhere along the way Meg had finally realised that Kathy neither wanted nor needed saving.

  But Kathy wasn’t all that Meg had dwelled on as her sick leave days ticked by into double figures. Hesitantly, painfully, Meg had travelled the bittersweet journey of the brokenhearted. Bitter because, bruised and battered, and with a good excuse to cry, Meg had allowed herself to finally grieve—grieve for the man she had lost, the man she had thought Vince was. And sweet because, despite the pain, despite the soul-searching as her blackened chest turned to a dirty yellow and her swollen lips finally went down, for the first time in six months Meg actually knew she was finally over him.

  ‘I’ve brought you some soup.’

  Meg screwed up her nose as Kathy peered around the bedroom door, a laden tray in her hands. ‘I’m sick of soup.’

  ‘How do you think I feel? I wasn’t even in an accident and I’m having lentil broth forced down me twice a day. At least you can afford to put some weight on; I’m going to be huge for my party at this rate.’

  ‘What happened to the ‘‘casual dinner’’?’

  Kathy laughed. ‘Mum got involved, that’s what happened. How she’s managed to book a hall and caterers at such short notice I’ve no idea. I shudder to think what the wedding’s going to be like. Half of me just wants to get a licence and get it over and done with, without all the fuss.’

  Raining salt on her soup, Meg didn’t look up. ‘And the other half?’

  ‘The other half of me is starting to buy all the bridal magazines and is wrestling between crushed silk and organza, and lilies as opposed to freesias. I guess the upshot is I can’t wait to be married.’

  This time Meg did look up. Seeing her sister sitting on the edge of her bed, her face glowing, her eyes literally sparkling, Meg knew she had never seen Kathy looking happier. ‘You really love him, don’t you?’

  ‘I really do.’ Kathy paused for a moment. ‘And the best bit of it all is that I know Jake loves me—all of me—even down to my limp. He says that if it wasn’t for my limp we’d never have met, which is a pretty nice way of looking at it.’

  It was nice, Meg admitted to herself. Actually, in the last few days she had found herself looking at Jake rather differently. He had treated Meg with professional friendliness at the hospital, and as—thanks to Flynn Kelsey—she had been forced into spending the last two weeks at home, there had been plenty of time to watch Jake and Kathy together. Jake even took Mary’s somewhat overbearing nature in his stride.

  ‘How do you feel about going back to work tomorrow?’

  Meg shrugged. ‘It will be nice to get away from the soup.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bet on it. Mum’s just bought a massive stainless steel vacuum flask; you’ll be supping on her Irish broth for weeks yet.’ When Meg didn’t laugh Kathy continued tentatively. ‘A bit nervous, huh?’

  Meg nodded. ‘A bit,’ she admitted. ‘It doesn’t help that everyone thinks I fell asleep at the wheel.’

  ‘It will be old news soon. They’ll soon find something else to talk about.’

  ‘I just wish I could remember what happened.’

  ‘You will.’

  Meg fiddled with her spoon. ‘I feel as if I’ve been away for months, not just a couple of weeks. I’m more nervous than when I first started there.’

  ‘Once you’ve been there a couple of hours you’ll soon be back in the swing of things. They seem a nice bunch of girls; you should try to get to know them better. That Jess was lovely to us while you were sleeping.’

  ‘Oh, Jess is nice. She can be a bit overbearing, but it’s all well meant. She’s probably the one I’m closest to, but a night out with Jess isn’t going to do my social life wonders—it would be like going out with Mum.’

  ‘What about the rest of them?’ Kathy asked.

  ‘They all seem nice enough,’ Meg replied. ‘But I don’t really know them. I mean, we chat about work and what we did on our days off, but apart from Jess I don’t really know much about any of them.’

  ‘And whose fault is that?’ Kathy said gently. ‘Look, Meg, I know you’ve had it tough recently, but it’s really time to move on, let the world in a bit.’

  Meg nodded. ‘I know it is.’

  Kathy put a hand up to her sister’s forehead, an incredulous look on her face. ‘Quick—call a doctor! The girl must be delirious. You’re not actually agreeing with me, are you?’

  Meg grinned as she pushed Kathy’s hand away. ‘For once I am. Bloody Vince.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Kathy agreed, grinning broadly. ‘That’s more like it. There’s a whole world out there full of gorgeous single men.’

  ‘Hold on a moment,’ Meg said quickly. ‘A relationship’s the last thing I want at the moment. I’m talking about resuming a social life, nothing else. I mean it,’ she added as Kathy gave her a questioning look.

  ‘I believe you,’ Kathy said, but just as Meg started to relax a meddling look flashed across her sister’s face. ‘But if there was anyone you wanted me to add to the party list, you know you’d only have to ask?’

  For a nanosecond Meg’s mind involuntarily flashed to Flynn—the Flynn who had sat with her in the car, not the jackbooted doctor who had visited her in the obs ward—but resolutely she pushed all thought of him away. That was one path she definitely wasn’t heading down—and anyway, the last person she wanted to help with her love life was her little sister; a girl had to have some pride! ‘I’m quite capable of sorting out my own social life, thank you very much.’

  Kathy grinned, not in the slightest bit bothered by Meg’s haughty tones. ‘Okay, okay, it was only a suggestion.’ Picking up the last of Meg’s bread, she popped it into her mouth. ‘At least it’s a start.’

  * * *

  A small start, perhaps, but to Meg it felt monumental. This time when she pulled on her uniform and clipped on her badges she forced a smile as she made her way out to the department, utterly determined that when someone suggested heading off to the bar after work, or a house party next weekend, instead of murmuring her usual excuses she would smile warmly and agree to go.

  ‘Morning, Meg, welcome back.’

  ‘Good morning, Carla, how are you?’

  Unless it was Carla.

  Meg quickly made a sub-clause in her self-imposed contract. A students’ bash with cheap wine and even cheaper comments from the medical and nursing students she could do without. She wasn’t that desperate.

  Yet.

  ‘Fine.’ Carla flicked her long blonde fringe out of her eyes and Meg watched as it promptly fell back over them, tempted to tell her to take a bandage from the trolley and tie the shaggy mess back. But, in the spirit of it being her first day back, Meg said nothing. Jess could sort Carla out later.

  ‘Where are you working this morning?’

  ‘I’m in the cubicles at the moment, but Jess said that if anything comes into resus I’m to go in.’

  Meg heard the nervous note in the young student’s voice. ‘You’ll be fine. No one will expect you to do anything, you’re just there to observe, and when you’re feeling up to it you can join in.’

  ‘Thanks. Will you be in there?’

  Meg was saved from answering as Jess appeared, crisp and fresh in her white linen blouse. �
��How about it, Meg? Do you fancy starting back in the deep end? We’re a bit low on numbers this morning, and I’m supposed to be going to an occupational health and safety lecture at ten. I can’t believe it’s been two years since my last.’

  ‘No problem,’ Meg answered, before turning to give Carla a reassuring smile. ‘Dr Campbell is really nice to work with in resus.’

  ‘Except he’s on two weeks’ annual leave.’ Jess rolled her eyes. ‘Flynn’s on this morning. If it’s quiet he wants to lecture the students and the grad nurses in CPR—or BLS, as it’s called now. Why do they have to keep changing things? And when does this place ever stay quiet?’ she asked, but as usual didn’t bother to wait for an answer. ‘I’ve told him Annie is off having her arm stitched back on, but he still wants to go ahead.’

  ‘What happened to Annie?’ Meg asked. Annie, the plastic doll the staff practised their lifesaving skills on, was a popular member of the staff, and the concern in Meg’s voice was genuine.

  ‘My lips are sealed,’ Jess said dramatically, which meant she was pausing for breath before she continued. ‘Let’s just hope that next time our dear Dr Kelsey tries to show the new interns how to reduce a dislocated shoulder, he’ll leave poor Annie alone. The man doesn’t know his own strength.’ Tutting away, Jess turned her attention to Carla. ‘In my day—and, I hasten to add it wasn’t that long ago—we wore hats, and with good reason. Now, go and do something about that blessed fringe of yours or I’ll make you wear a theatre cap for the rest of your rotation.’

  As she bustled off Carla rolled her eyes and turned to Meg. ‘She talks as if she trained during the Second World War; just how old is Jess?’

  ‘Fifty-something,’ Meg mumbled.

  ‘Oh, well, I guess that explains it,’ Carla replied, accepting the bandage Meg offered her and managing to still look gorgeous with a massive white bow on the top of her head.

  ‘Which means she’s got a lot of experience,’ Meg said pointedly, annoyed at Carla’s surly comments. ‘I know first-hand what a good nurse she is—and not just from a professional point of view. Jess is the first person you want to see when you’re coming through those doors on a stretcher. Tying up your hair and looking smart might seem minor details, but they’re important ones; it goes a long way to instilling confidence in the patients.’ Suitably chastised, Carla followed Meg into resus.