The Elusive Consultant Page 5

  ‘Hey, you don’t have to say anything now,’ Tessa insisted. ‘There’s a good reason you don’t want to be exposed to X-rays, that’s all I need to know. You only have to tell me more if you want to.’

  ‘I do want to,’ Kim said fiercely. ‘I’ve been holding it in for weeks now. I think I’ll burst if I don’t talk to someone about it.’

  ‘Does Mark know?’ Tessa ventured, relieved when Kim nodded and managed a shaky laugh.

  ‘It’s all we talk about.’ Blowing her nose loudly, she took a deep breath. ‘We’ve been married for fifteen years. The first ten were spent trying to have a baby,’ Kim whispered. ‘It nearly tore us apart. So many let-downs, nights crying, doctor’s appointments, ultrasounds, blood tests, hormone injections, IVF, GIFT—I’ve been there and done all that more times than I can count.’

  ‘Got the T-shirt to prove it,’ Tessa said dryly, and Kim nodded.

  ‘Every where I looked, friends, family, even strangers in the street, well, they all seemed to either be pregnant or pushing a pram, and the resentment just built up and up. Even something as basic as going to the supermarket was a nightmare in itself. You’ve no idea how appealing those rows of nappies and baby wipes look when you’re on the treadmill of trying to get pregnant.’

  ‘It sounds like hell,’ Tessa said gently.

  ‘It was. And then one day I woke up to myself, realised I’d nearly lost my husband, that I’d lost ten years of my life in the eternal quest to have a baby.’ She looked up at Tessa. ‘I’m not exaggerating. It was all I thought about, all I wanted, and it wasn’t getting me anywhere. So I did something about it—booked Mark and I on a dream holiday that we couldn’t possibly contemplate with a baby, bought a wardrobe of new clothes, made a list...’

  ‘I make lists.’ Tessa grinned. ‘Do you divide up the paper?’

  ‘Yep. On one side I had “Baby,” on the other was “Mark, holidays, money, a career I love.” That’s why I’m the oldest grad nurse in town. I’d put so much into trying to get pregnant I’d let the rest of my life slide.’

  ‘But look at you now,’ Tessa enthused. ‘You’re a fabulous emergency nurse.’

  ‘Honestly?’

  ‘Honestly,’ Tessa said. ‘I wouldn’t say it otherwise.’

  ‘I’d actually got used to the idea of not having a baby, finally realised there was more to life than that little pink bundle. Then a few months ago Mark raised it again, said how technology had come on, that maybe it was worth one more try. And even though we’re really happy now, even though a baby’s not the be-all and end-all, I jumped at the chance. Can you see now why I don’t want the news getting out? I couldn’t bear all the sympathetic stares if it doesn’t work out and I don’t want Heather, the unit manager, thinking I’ve got my head in the clouds chasing baby dreams when she comes to choosing which grad to employ. If I lose the baby I know I’m going to be devastated and I’ll need my job more than ever to keep my feet on the ground.’

  Tessa listened carefully, yet again floored at the complicated lives people led, the tears behind the smiles that she knew only too well, but at least in this case there was some comfort she could offer and she was only too happy to put Kim’s mind at rest. ‘I know I shouldn’t be telling you this, and I’m trusting you to keep this under your hat for now, but I did your report with Heather last week and we’re going to offer you a permanent position in the department once your grad year’s over.’

  ‘Were,’ Kim said resignedly.

  ‘Are,’ Tessa said emphatically. ‘You’re not the first nurse to get pregnant, and I don’t mean that in a glib way—I feel like a pregnancy counsellor some days! And most nurses have a crisis of confidence wondering how they’re going to juggle children and a career. It would seem that it’s one of life’s eternal conundrums, and par for the course in a predominantly female profession, so don’t even think about worrying about your job.’

  ‘Thanks, Tessa,’ Kim said tearfully. ‘Believe me, it’s a problem I’d love to have, but I daren’t let myself worry about it, at least, not yet anyway—it’s the pregnancy I’m concentrating on for now. If I can just get through till Friday I might actually start to believe it’s going to happen. I can’t wait to be in here bending your ears about maternity leave and days off in lieu.’

  ‘Roll on Friday.’ Tessa smiled before glancing down at her watch. ‘We’d best get back out there.’

  * * *

  ‘We’ve got a name.’ Max’s tone was businesslike as Tessa walked up to the whiteboard. ‘Ricky Hunt. Turns out he’s not nineteen, tomorrow would have been his eighteenth birthday. His parents have just arrived.’

  ‘Do they know?’

  Max shook his head. ‘And there was me thinking it was rough in there.’ He gestured to Resus with an air of resigned weariness. ‘Here comes the really hard part.’

  * * *

  Of course, because Tessa really needed to talk to Max, really need a postscript to the little bomb he’d dropped, not one opportunity presented itself. Once Max had delivered the awful news, most of Tessa’s shift was taken up comforting Ricky’s parents, trying to somehow make this bleak dark day no worse for them by an insensitive word, trying not to let the routine of the hospital invade on this awful private time. And finally, when she surfaced, when the roster caught up with her and there was a pile of voicemail messages awaiting her response, whatever mood had taken Max in the coffee-room had long since departed. He smiled his usual smile, gave his usual requests, imparted his corny jokes and basically carried on as if nothing had happened.

  Perhaps nothing had happened, Tessa decided, letting herself into her house and slipping off her shoes with an exaggerated sigh. If Kim hadn’t come in when she had, maybe Max would have added a multitude of names to the one he’d mentioned.

  But...

  She tried so hard not to go there. Tried so hard not to dwell on his words, not to let her imagination wander, but Tessa knew it was an impossible feat. Grabbing her wrap, she headed to the beach, hoping that the setting sun and the emerging stars would work their usual magic, help put her jumbled world into perspective.

  There was a strange comfort in her insignificance as she walked through frothing surf, feeling the pull of the waves against her ankles, the invigorating whip of the wind on her cheeks. Laying down her wrap, Tessa sank to the sandy carpet and took up her regular ringside seat, looking up at the now darkened sky, watching the flickering lights of a silver plane lifting through the dusky night, dividing and uniting with its cold silver tail.

  She had awoken this morning with a naïvety she now yearned for, totally oblivious to the news that was coming, the piece of gossip that would be passed to her like a baton in a relay, and it was up to Tessa to run with it, to arrange the farewell party, to wave the inevitable brown envelope under people’s noses and shop for a supposedly suitable gift. Funny, she’d actually braced herself for it, but the brown envelope that Tessa had envisaged had been for a wedding gift for the happy couple, not a leaving present for Max.

  Pushing her toes into the sand, Tessa bit hard on her lips then finally gave in to the turbulent emotions that she had kept in check all day, allowing the salty tears to slide down her cheeks, the choked gasps to escape from her throat as she contemplated the turn of events, the awful role of the dice that simultaneously bought her time yet gave her nothing. Trying to decide which of the two evils was worse: losing every last glimmer of hope when Max and Emily finally named the day...

  Or losing Max for ever.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘MAY I say you’re looking particularly fetching this morning, Tessa?’

  Max’s dry comment didn’t faze Tessa for a moment. Dressed in a large green theatre gown, her legs encased in gumboots with a sling wrapped around her dark curls, she knew she looked a sight. The humour in her voice came from the delicious knowledge that she was about to have the last word.

  ‘Thanks, Max.’ He was sitting with Fred, both men were eating large ice creams, devouring t
hem actually, which looked a bit strange given that the nine a.m. news was only just coming on the television, but, then, according to the night staff Max and Fred had been there since three that morning. ‘It was you that examined Josie Mitchell, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yep.’ Max said without looking up, his eyes back on the television. ‘She just needs her varicose ulcer re-dressed. They’re looking a bit infected and her chest sounds a bit rattly, so I’ve given her an IM injection of penicillin and a bottle of antibiotics from the ward stock. There’s no way she’d go and get a scrip dispensed.’

  He was right. Josie was one of their regular homeless people and whatever care could be squeezed into her sporadic visits generally was.

  ‘You haven’t written up her card yet.’

  ‘I didn’t have a pen.’

  ‘Well, when you finally get around to it, there’s a little postscript you might want to add to your findings.’ Tessa paused for effect. ‘You’ll be pleased to know she’s alive.’ Tessa smiled, watching as Max popped the last of his cone into his mouth.

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ he said, completely missing the point.

  ‘I’m not talking about a pulse here, Max. Your patient is crawling, literally crawling—at least, her clothes and hair are.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Max groaned.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Tessa grinned. ‘Kim and I are just about to delouse her. I thought I’d bring you round a little present before you take your morning shower.’ With some relish she handed him a couple of tubes. ‘Leave it in your hair for ten minutes and remember all your little creases,’ Tessa said with a wicked wink, as Fred not too subtly moved from the seat beside Max and crossed the room.

  ‘Great,’ Max grumbled, immediately starting to scratch. ‘Just great.’

  Tessa laughed. ‘One of the perks of the job, I’m afraid. Don’t you just love Emergency?’

  * * *

  Bathing Josie was rather like trying to get a very angry, very slippery cat into the water. Getting Josie to agree to the bath was no problem, so long as they promised not to get her beloved Walkman wet, and applying the cream and shampoo no trouble, but, as was so much Josie, the second they lowered the large hoist into the warm soapy water she struggled, kicked and screamed as if they were killing her.

  ‘Nearly there, Josie,’ Tessa said firmly above the screams, pushing the ‘down’ button with one hand as she held onto her patient’s wrists with the other, as an already drenched Kim tried to keep Josie’s legs from flailing over the side. But the second Josie was in, as soon as the warm soapy water lapped over her body, she relaxed.

  ‘Ooh, lovely.’

  ‘Why do you always fight us, Josie?’ Tessa asked. ‘You love your bath when you’re in it.’

  ‘I do, don’t I?’ Josie said, as if it were a revelation. ‘You can leave me now.’

  ‘I’m supposed to stay,’ Tessa pointed out.

  ‘Why? I’m in my seventies, for heaven’s sake. Can’t I have a bit of privacy at this time of my life?’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Tessa agreed. ‘I’ll go to the cupboard and see about getting you some fresh clothes, but no trying to get out.’ Tying the call bell to the handrail at the side of the bath, she showed Josie how it worked. ‘I mean it, Josie, no trying to get out by yourself. If you slip, you’ll end up on the orthopaedic ward for the next six weeks,’ she warned, knowing Josie’s hatred of hospitals.

  ‘Am I too late for breakfast?’ Josie asked hopefully as the bubbles popped around her, the water already turning a dark muddy brown.

  ‘Way too late,’ Tessa remonstrated, then smiled at her most difficult patient. ‘But I’ll see if I can arrange an early lunch.’

  ‘Stay outside the door,’ Tessa warned Kim as they stepped outside. ‘ I don’t care if the emergency bells go off in Resus, you stay here, and if you hear so much as an untoward splash, then stick your head in—Josie will be trying to get out. Don’t trust her for a minute.’

  ‘You’ve got a soft spot for her, haven’t you?’ Kim grinned.

  ‘She’s adorable,’ Tessa conceded. ‘The old dragon. Did you know she’s a bit of a celebrity? Do you ever listen to talk-back radio?’

  Kim nodded, obviously bemused. ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘You see that Walkman she’s always got on? It’s permanently tuned into the talk-back radio station. Her only expenditure is batteries and money for the payphone. Every now and then she rings up the station and because she’s so articulate and well spoken they give her heaps of air time. It’s hilarious, you should listen out for her.’

  ‘The things you learn in Emergency,’ Kim said with a grin as Tessa wandered off to the store cupboard.

  ‘How’s Josie?’ Max had followed her into the cupboard, rubbing his hair with a hospital towel, the white tie on his theatre blues slung low on his waist. She could feel his eyes on her as she stepped up onto a footstool and rummaged through the shelves. Most of the clothes that filled the cupboard were from donations, but every now and then Heather the Nurse Unit Manager took herself off to the Op Shop when supplies were getting low. It was nice to be able to offer the homeless patients the chance of a clean set of clothes occasionally and, given their nature, it was a treat that was never abused.

  ‘In the bath, soaking away,’ Tessa answered abstractedly, rummaging through the racks.

  ‘I could hear her screaming from the changing rooms.’

  ‘She hates getting wet. So do I,’ Tessa added, flicking her damp fringe out of her eyes. ‘Anyway, she’s flea-free now. Did you leave the shampoo on for ten minutes like I said?’

  ‘Yes, Sister,’ Max answered dutifully. ‘I hate the smell of that stuff.’

  ‘It grows on you.’ Pulling out a large green coat, Tessa fluffed it out then shook her head as she put it back on the shelf.

  ‘What’s wrong with that one?’

  ‘It’s green. I tried to give it to Josie last time she came in but she refused and insisted on keeping that shabby old coat of hers. “Red and green should never be seen,” she quoted in that snobby, patronising voice of hers. Don’t you just love her? She still thinks she’s got a head of red curls. I can’t bear to tell her she’s totally grey. It’s a shame because it’s a nice warm coat, this one.’ She was rambling now, terribly, but Max alone with her in this confined space was giving her the most awful verbal diarrhoea.

  ‘Has she ever told you what happened?’ Max’s voice was serious. He was leaning against the cupboard door, settling in for a chat and obviously in no hurry to leave, and was doing terrible things to Tessa’s blood pressure. ‘I mean, has she ever told you how she ended up on the streets? From the way she talks, she’s obviously well educated, she must have come from a good family.’

  ‘Who knows?’ Tessa said thoughtfully, her mind thankfully slipping away from Max as she pondered one of her favourite patients. ‘Just because her parents were affluent it doesn’t mean they were good parents. I think Josie had a baby at some point, or there was a child.’

  ‘Did she tell you?’ Max perked up, the way you did when a jigsaw was about to be completed, but Tessa shook her head, instantly dispelling an easy solution, and Max leant heavily back against the door as she carried on talking.

  ‘Not directly. She came in one night rambling about babies and punishments and the like, but she’s never mentioned it again. I’ve tried talking to her but she just closes up. She obviously doesn’t want to go there.’

  ‘Maybe it’s for the best.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ The interest in Tessa’s voice was genuine. Emergency was a strange place. The patients spent only a relatively short time in one’s care but their impact was huge. Sometimes it was nice to take five, to delve a little deeper into their lives. And anyway, she loved Max’s insights—his view on the world always slightly different from the norm. ‘I thought psychiatry was all about opening up, dealing with the past, coming to terms with things.’

  ‘I’m not a psychiatrist,’ Max pointed out. ‘And with good reason. I just think some
things are best left, some memories are maybe too painful to revisit.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Tessa agreed. Catching his eye, Max was suddenly flying back into her consciousness at an alarming rate, their close proximity registering again. He smiled then, nothing extraordinary in that, Max smiled often, but this one was just for her. For an age he stared as Tessa’s colour deepened, and when the silence had gone on for far too long he gave a little embarrassed cough. Flicking up his hand, he pulled down a jumble of shawls and scarves.

  ‘Give her this as well.’ Max tossed a blue scarf across the cupboard. ‘Tell her, “Red and green should never be seen unless there’s a colour in between”— that’s the full saying.’

  ‘Good idea. What will we do without you?’ It was a light-hearted comment that belied her heavy heart, and stretching to sort out the chaos she’d created on the shelves Tessa automatically pulled her top down over her bottom, painfully aware it wasn’t exactly trim, taut and terrific.

  That tiny gesture bought an unseen smile to Max’s lips, made his throat constrict so hard for a second there he had to struggle to even out his breathing. Tess was so sweet, so utterly and completely adorable, her insecurities so completely unmerited, he had to physically resist the urge to tell her so...

  To tell her she was beautiful and kind and good, that there was nothing, nothing she needed to hide from him, nor would there ever be.

  But did Tessa want to hear it?

  Stepping down off the footstool, he caught her arm to help her, the feel of her skin soft and warm beneath his fingers broiling his senses, her damp fringe hanging over one questioning eye. His grip on her arm tightened as he struggled not to smooth her hair out of her face, to take her soft cheeks in his hands and kiss that delicious full mouth. And though he knew this wasn’t the time or the place, though the mental coin he tossed told him to leave things well alone for now, an eternal optimist, he tossed again, moving on to the best out of three, the best out of five, but the answer to his question was still unforthcoming.