The Italian's Touch (Promotional Presents) Read online

  ‘Danny, put out a paediatric arrest, please.’ Her voice was clear, unwavering, and she carried on dealing with Archie as she spoke.

  Almost imperceptibly and only for an instant the room stilled, and then she heard Danny pick up the phone.

  Lucy ran in, breathless. ‘He’s epileptic.’

  ‘Good.’ It sounded a strange thing for Mario to say, but the fact that there was a medical reason for the convulsion lessened the likelihood that the fit had been caused because of neurological damage from the dog attack.

  ‘Thanks, Lucy.’ Fleur nodded her appreciation. ‘Stay and watch now, and I’ll go over everything with you later.’

  ‘Paediatric arrest in Accident and Emergency. Paediatric arrest in Accident and Emergency.’ Danny’s pager duly sprang into life and was joined in loud stereo as paediatric teams swung through the doors, alerted by the earlier page.

  ‘Not an arrest, guys,’ Mario said quickly, ‘but we need you.’

  As the second on-call anaesthetist and surgeons arrived—the first on were still in Theatre—the room quickly filled, all working in an urgent attempt to stabilise this tiny life that hung in the balance.

  ‘Fleur…’ Danny came over to the head of the bed. ‘I should push off to this meeting. Are you sure you don’t mind?’

  So absorbed was Fleur in what she was doing that she barely had time to nod. He slipped the pager into her pocket and Fleur felt the weight of it in her linen top. She didn’t have time to be nervous, didn’t have time to fear the weight of responsibility that had descended on her shoulders—she was simply doing her job. And as Archie’s blood pressure started to creep up and his heart rate settled to a less alarming rate, as his reflexes picked up and his breathing steadied, Fleur acknowledged internally that she was doing her job well.

  Blood was given and antibiotics were commenced as the bites would be a huge source of infection. As the oxygen, drugs and fluids started to infiltrate Archie’s system, his condition steadied and the discussion as to his further treatment commenced. ‘I’m going to ring Luke.’

  Fleur looked up at Mario’s words. ‘He’s off this afternoon.’

  Mario nodded. ‘He’s the man at the top. I know that I’d want to be informed about a child as sick as this little guy. Once the press gets hold of this it’s going to be plastered everywhere.’

  He was absolutely right, Fleur thought. Luke Richardson did indeed deserve a courtesy call, yet many, too many, would have let ego come into it. Would have wanted to be the one who ran the show, who dealt with the press. Mario was a true team player—most of the time.

  ‘Then I will talk with the mother. It sounds as if they want to transfer him to the Women’s and Children’s.’ He looked over at Phil Sawyer, the paediatric consultant, who nodded.

  ‘He’s obviously going to need intensive care, and our beds are full—or at least they will be when the MVA gets out of Theatre. Is that right, Wendy?’

  Wendy looked up briefly from Archie whose abdomen she was examining. ‘It sounds that way. If we can arrange the helicopter, we can have him there in less than half an hour. I think he’d do better being transferred now rather than post-op. He’s stabilising and a paediatric intensive care ward would be better. And also Mr Hassed is there,’ she added. Mr Hassed was one of the most eminent plastic surgeons in Australia. Now that Archie’s circulation was improving, the lacerations were starting to fill with blood and bruising was coming out all over his tiny body. The true horror of the child’s injuries were becoming apparent. Wendy’s voice was suddenly thick with emotion. ‘This little guy is going to need all the help he can get.’

  Mario looked down at the little boy, and suddenly the hot-headed, demanding doctor seemed to drain out of him. He stood there for a second, a pensive look flicking across his face, his features suddenly weary. But almost immediately his melancholy was over and normal services were resumed. ‘Do you want me to arrange it?’ he asked briskly, and without waiting for an answer marched out of the room.

  By the time Mario had arranged for the air ambulance and spoken with Luke, Danny had returned.

  ‘They cancelled the meeting. Apparently, the meeting room hadn’t been serviced and, more to the point, the canteen had forgotten to send up the refreshments. Those admin guys want to spend a couple of days in this place— no one’s even had a coffee-break yet.’

  Mario rolled his eyes as he walked over. ‘Please, don’t mention coffee again until I have a cup in my hand. Fleur, will you come with me while I speak with the mother?’

  Fleur looked up briefly at Danny. ‘Can you keep an eye on Archie? He’s stable, but Felicity is pretty upset and Lucy, as good as she is, is still just a student.’

  Danny nodded. ‘Sure, I’d rather be in here than with the mother. Are you sure you’ll be all right, Fleur?’

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ Mario answered for her rather testily. ‘Come on, Fleur.’

  Danny pursed his lips but didn’t rise. ‘Good luck.’

  As they reached the interview room Mario paused for a moment. The muscles in his cheeks were taut, his lips set in a grim line. He took a couple of deep breaths and Fleur watched as his features relaxed. Catching her watching him inquisitively, Mario gave her a small smile.

  ‘Excuse me, but I’m not looking forward to this.’ His hand reached out and touched her bare arm. ‘If I come on too strong, please, Fleur, interrupt me. I don’t want to make things worse for the woman, but—’

  ‘I understand Mario.’ And she did, only too well. Theirs was not to judge or reason, but sometimes it was a tough call.

  Mrs Levitski barely acknowledged their entrance. She sat rocking gently in the chair, wringing the blood-splattered towel over and over in her hands. Fleur noticed the chewed nails and the untouched cup of tea.

  ‘Mrs Levitski, my name is Mario Ruffini. I am the emergency consultant and this is Sister Fleur Hadley. We have been looking after your son.’

  Mrs Levitski didn’t look up or speak. Moving the cup, Mario sat down on the coffee-table in front of her. ‘Mrs Levitski,’ he said softly.

  Her eyes lifted and met his. Terrified eyes, brimming with unshed tears. It was as if she had only just realised there were people in the room. ‘Don’t tell me he’s dead. Please, don’t—’

  Immediately Mario reassured her. ‘No, he’s not dead.’ He paused for a moment, allowing the one piece of good news in the whole sorry saga to sink in before he continued. ‘He is a sick little boy, though, Mrs Levitski. I need for you to tell me exactly what happened.’

  She nodded, swallowing hard to compose herself before she spoke, her voice a hoarse whisper. ‘He’s such a good dog, never bitten anyone, not even snapped or growled, well, not at us anyway. There’s been a lot of break-ins around our way.’

  Fleur glanced down at the admission sheet she was holding and looked at the address. Delvue Waters was notorious for vandalism and crime so she could understand Mrs Levitski’s fear, yet she had to stop herself from visibly wincing as Mrs Levitski continued. ‘The children climb all over him, treat him like a little pony.’

  ‘What happened today?’ Mario asked.

  ‘I put Archie down for his sleep and then I went to hang out the washing. I did a bit of tidying up and then I went to do the dishes. That’s when I saw him lying there on the grass.’

  The room fell silent and Fleur watched as Mario stared down at his hands for a moment. ‘Did you hear Archie scream?’ Fleur prompted gently.

  ‘No, nothing, not a sound. He was just lying there. I was looking out the window, half daydreaming and that’s when I saw him. The dog wasn’t even near him. For a second, as I was running out to him, I thought he must have tripped and fallen, but he was so still…’ She started to cry in earnest. ‘I was calling his name and he just lay there, not moving. As soon as I turned him over I knew what had happened.’ She started to rock again, retreating into her own private hell.

  ‘And where was the dog at this time?’ Mario’s voice was sharp without bei
ng unkind, dragging her back to the story.

  ‘In his kennel, playing with his bone like nothing had happened. I picked Archie up and ran inside. I didn’t know what to do. The phone’s been cut off so I couldn’t call an ambulance. I just grabbed a towel and put him in the car and raced up here. I should have gone to a neighbour, I just didn’t think. It’s all my fault, all of it…’

  And as Mario reached over and for the first time touched the woman, his beautiful olive hands gently reaching her shoulders, Fleur knew he felt it, too—not anger, not bitterness, just an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Mrs Levitski did love her son. She was probably doing her best and doing it tough. She had, like so many others, just assumed it could never happen to her, that their dog was somehow different.

  ‘Maybe Archie disturbed the dog when he was chewing his bone, or tripped and somehow frightened the dog. I cannot say. But I must tell you this…’ His accent was pronounced but his words were clear. ‘Archie has serious injuries, some of them internal. That means he is bleeding inside and needs to go to Theatre. My colleagues and I feel he would do better at the Women and Children’s Hospital, and now that he is more stable we are going to transfer him there for his operation. But first I need to ask some questions. I see that Archie is nearly four years of age. He had a prolonged seizure shortly after he came in to us. A fit,’ he explained as Mrs Levitski frowned.

  ‘He gets them sometimes.’

  ‘Apart from the fits, is Archie a well child?’

  ‘He’s a bit behind, a bit slow, you know. The doctor says it’s to do with the fits, but now they’re better controlled he’s catching up. He’s nearly toilet trained and he knows all his colours and can count. We go to speech therapy twice a week. This isn’t going to help, is it?’

  ‘We’ll have to wait and see,’ Mario said softly. ‘Now, the helicopter will be ready to take him soon. In cases such as this the police will need to speak with you. They will take you in a car to the other hospital so you get there quickly.’ He glanced up at Fleur who was about to interrupt, worried he might be making a promise he couldn’t deliver. ‘I arranged this when I arranged the ambulance.’

  ‘The dog will have to be destroyed,’ Mrs Levitski said suddenly. It was a statement, not a question, and Fleur felt relief that Mrs Levitski was being sensible. ‘Can I see Archie—before he goes, I mean?’

  ‘Of course, I will take you to him now.’ Taking Mrs Levitski’s elbow, Mario helped her up and then he did the strangest thing, considering that he was a doctor, considering his anger only moments before. He wrapped his arms around Mrs Levitski’s scruffy, heaving shoulders and held her for a moment while she wept. And as Fleur watched, a tear fell down her own cheek. That one small gesture, the comfort of human touch, had somehow formed a small shield around Mrs Levitski. He had accepted her for what she was—a grief-stricken mother. He had listened without judging and had shown compassion when it had been needed. And in the awful days that would inevitably follow—the police interviews, the scathing press reports, the emotive public debates—it would be something for Mrs Levitski to cling to.

  * * *

  ‘How are you feeling, Fleur?’

  ‘I’m fine, Felicity. How about you?’

  ‘Actually, I’m still shaking. Do you need a hand to clean up Resus?’

  Fleur shook her head. ‘No, you go and grab a coffee, and perhaps you could bring one back for Mario when you’re done. He’s starting to have withdrawal symptoms.’ She gestured over to Mario who was writing up his notes in the corner.

  ‘Double strength,’ he called as Felicity left. ‘These notes will take ages.’

  ‘Well, be sure to write neatly,’ Fleur said as tactfully as she could. ‘You’ll probably have to do a police report.’

  ‘Good point,’ Mario agreed. ‘Even I can’t read my hand-writing sometimes.’ He looked over and put down his pen. ‘Are you sure you’re OK, Fleur? You did a great job.’

  Fleur nodded. ‘I’m fine, so long as you haven’t forgotten about the champagne.’

  He didn’t get a chance to answer as Danny strolled in. ‘How are you doing, Fleur? Is there anything you want to go over?’

  ‘Honestly, Danny, I’m fine.’

  ‘In that case, why don’t you go and have a break? I’ll finish up here.’

  It was good to have friends, Fleur thought as she attempted to make her way to the coffee-room. But when every staff member she passed, even Len the porter, enquired how she felt, Fleur thought her face would crack when she smiled and assured them all that, no, she wasn’t about to fall on the floor in a heap and, yes, she was fine, thank you!

  Felicity was making her way back with Mario’s favourite brew and as Fleur sat down, slipped her shoes off and took a grateful sip of her steaming drink, she nodded to Wendy, who was obviously taking a well-earned break. But her casual hello died on her lips when she saw that Wendy was crying. Not loud, obvious tears, but her reddened eyes and nose and a couple of mascara smudges were a pretty fair indication.

  ‘Wendy.’ Instantly Fleur stood up and made her way over, taking a seat beside the other woman.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Wendy shook her head and blew her nose loudly. ‘That young nurse that was just in was pretty upset and I was going over it all with her and it just got to me all of a sudden. Luckily I managed to hold off the tears until she’d gone.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with having a cry. We’re all upset.’

  Wendy shrugged. ‘It doesn’t seem that way. Oh, I know that you are, I know everyone is really, but it just seems to me that once you put on this white coat you’re not supposed to have feelings any more, or at least not show them.’

  ‘Wendy, we have debriefings here. Everyone gets together and goes over—’

  ‘How many doctors come?’ Wendy’s voice was suddenly angry. ‘And if they do, they only stay for the medical side of things. Those debriefings are to comfort the junior staff who haven’t seen this type of thing. And it’s not just the doctors who hold back. I know for sure that Danny never gets upset at those meetings and I bet that if you do, you hold it back.’

  She had a point there. No one senior really let down their guards at these meetings, and though Admin would never in a million years admit it, if they were to, it would be seen as a sign of weakness.

  ‘But there’s the weekly team meeting for the senior staff,’ Fleur reasoned. ‘And we all go out every few weeks to have a drink and unwind. It’s not just in the debriefing sessions.’

  ‘But what’s the golden rule on those evenings? What’s the first thing we say as we go up to the bar? ‘‘Let’s not talk about work.’’’

  ‘Tonight I’ll go home,’ Wendy continued bitterly, ‘and my husband will ask what sort of day I’ve had. And, of course, I’ll just moan it was busy or something, without telling him what hell it really was.’

  ‘So why not tell him?’

  Wendy gave a hollow laugh. ‘He doesn’t like the gory bits. Anyway, his answer would be, ‘‘Don’t do it, then.’’ He’s hoping I’ll give up soon to have a family. I love being a doctor, I love nearly everything about it, but I tell you this much—nothing in medical school prepares you for having your feelings dredged every single day and nothing in this hospital is really set in place to help. That little boy was one of the most tragic things I’ve ever seen and, apart from you, who will I talk about it with? I mean really talk about it. Who will Phil Sawyer and Mario Ruffini talk about it with? Sure, we’ll get updates and make a few casual comments, and that, Fleur, will be that. Down to business, onto the next one.’

  It hit Fleur then. Wendy was right, she was so very right, and she, Fleur, was as guilty as anyone. How many times had she said she was fine on her walk to the coffee-room? Instead of having a cry, a rave at the injustice of the world, she had forced a smile and carried on. And what was worse, far worse, was she’d done it safe in the knowledge that tonight Mario would be there for her, holding her, soothing her, when finally she did let her guard down
.

  But what about Mario? Who was going to be comforting him? Fleur cast her mind back, remembering the pensive look on his face, the agony of his conversation with Mrs Levitski.

  Scribbling her phone number down, Fleur pressed it into Wendy’s hand. ‘Come round at the weekend for a coffee or whatever your poison is and we’ll have a proper chat.’

  ‘You won’t say anything?’

  Fleur sighed. ‘That’s the whole problem, Wendy, no one ever says anything. But don’t worry—this conversation stays in this room.’

  Wendy smiled. ‘Thanks, Fleur, I’ll give you a buzz.’

  As Fleur entered Resus she saw Mario there still diligently writing, but now she could see the tension in his shoulders, the deep lines around his eyes as he struggled to put down on paper what he’d just witnessed. Walking over, she placed a tender hand on his shoulder.

  ‘How are you doing there, Mario?’

  ‘Nearly done. I’ve just got to write up the drugs we gave.’

  Fleur squeezed the knotted muscles beneath her fingers. ‘I mean, how are you doing? It was pretty upsetting in there.’

  And though she was standing behind him, she could feel a smile on his lips as his hand reached out and grabbed hers, holding it there on his shoulder. ‘It was bloody awful,’ he sighed. ‘Hell, I might even bring two bottles tonight.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘LOOK, Mum.’ Alex waved a card cheerfully as he ran over. ‘Ricky’s invited me to his party. Please, say I can go.’

  Fleur read the invite as they walked over to the car. The party was next Friday and Alex had been invited to don his pyjamas for a night of fast food and videos and, to cap it off, a take-away breakfast the following morning from the nearby burger bar.

  ‘There’s going to be four other boys, including Ricky, so I’m really lucky to get invited. Ricky said that his mum would ring you with all the details later in the week. But I am going to be able to go, Mum, aren’t I?’

  There wasn’t a logical reason on earth why he shouldn’t. From the second day of antibiotics he hadn’t had a wet bed and Teresa was a lovely responsible woman who had obviously pre-empted that Fleur would want to talk with her. Fleur started the car engine as Alex looked at her expectantly.