Max’s, too, from the dark look he shot at them both.
‘I’ll take over the massage.’ Max moved in, clearly annoyed. ‘You wait outside.’
Tessa shook her head. ‘I’m fine,’ she said quickly. ‘We’ve already had one change-over with the massage, it’s better not to disrupt things again. Anyway, it’s only one X-ray and I’ve got a protective gown on.’
‘Which isn’t done up,’ Max pointed out. ‘Hold on a second, Luke.’
Like a reflex action, Tessa pulled in her stomach as Max came around, his deft hands pulling the ties together as Tessa worked seemingly unruffled by his closeness. ‘Got to protect those ovaries.’
Another tiny comment, another little reference to her femininity, and from anyone else it would have left her mind as soon as it had been said.
But that was the problem with being in love.
Every tiny statement, every throw-away comment was stored and filed then taken out later, poured over and analysed. And every touch, however fleeting, however unambiguous, registered like a size five earthquake on the Richter scale.
It took every ounce of Tessa’s professionalism to carry on counting in her mind as she carried on the massage.
The X-rays seemed to take for ever to be developed. Tessa carried on with the massage as Max snapped his orders to a flustered Kim, who was running between the two beds. He used every drug on the trolley and a few more, gave the young man every last shot, used every trick in the book in an attempt to get his youthful heart started, but when Luke came back and pushed the film on the viewfinder Tessa knew at a glance it had all been futile.
For a moment or three Max stared, taking the film down and holding it up to the light as if a different view might make the terrible image look different.
‘Max.’ It was all she said but it was enough to break the awful loaded silence.
‘Maybe we should try...’ he began, his eyes darting to the drug trolley, his hands reaching for the internal telephone.
Max could summon who he liked to the department, use every last drug on the trolley, surf the net for any breakthroughs since yesterday with spinal injuries, but for the young man who lay on the resuscitation no amount of technology was going to save him, and the horror of his X-ray only confirmed the fact.
He was beyond saving.
‘Max.’ Tessa said again this time more definitely as Fred swivelled his eyes between them.
Max nodded then, the tiniest briefest of nods as he replaced the receiver in its cradle. ‘Stop the massage.’
Only then did Tessa stop. It had been Max’s call and she knew how hard it had been for him to make it. The three stood there, waited and watched the machines, because that was what they had to do, that was what protocol dictated.
It was Fred who moved first, flicking off the monitor and turning off the oxygen when the miracle they had all been secretly hoping for didn’t materialise. ‘Sorry, guys.’
Nobody spoke as Max performed his final examination. ‘Time of death, twelve fifty-two.’ He didn’t write it down, just stood for a quiet moment, his fists clenched in a strange, defiant sort of salute, then strode off, as Tessa wrote the time in her notebook, knowing Max would need it later.
‘Sorry,’ Fred said again. ‘It’s horrible, losing them when they’re this young.’ Shaking his head, he gave Tessa a weary smile. ‘I wouldn’t like to be around Max in London, when it’s little children lying on the resus bed. It’s going to hurt like hell there.’
The fact Tessa didn’t know her patient’s name didn’t stop her from caring, didn’t stop the sting of tears in her eyes when she looked at the young body before her. Yes, it was part of the job and, yes, she was used to dealing with death, but the professionalism ingrained into her, the familiar scenario of an emergency room, didn’t provide enough of a buffer for the emotions that assailed her. Fred was right, the loss of a young life hurt like hell.
Always would.
Somewhere she had read or heard that a spirit stayed with the body for a while, and though Tessa really didn’t know if that was true or not, the thought made her stay a while longer than needed. A moment or two of gentle talk and a little prayer because maybe, and again she wasn’t sure, maybe it helped. And when there was nothing more she could do, she quietly made her way out from the curtain.
‘No good, huh?’
Phil was still staring at the ceiling, a salty tear slipping down his temple into his hair.
‘No,’ Tessa said softly. ‘I’m sorry you had to hear all that.’
‘Don’t worry about me, love. In some ways it was better.’ He gave a very wobbly smile. ‘Better than being just told he died, that I’d just killed someone.’
‘It was an accident, Phil,’ Tessa pointed out, but he just shook his head, refusing her crumbs of comfort.
‘I got up this morning and the sun was shining and all I could think was what a great day it was to be alive. You just never know how your life’s going to change, do you? Still, at least I know you all did your best for him, I know that he was given every chance. I’m just going to have to learn how to live with it now.’
‘Go and grab a coffee,’ Kim mouthed over the patient, and even though Tessa didn’t particularly want a drink, even though she knew that Kim was just as upset as she was, Tessa also knew that in a few moments she’d have to face the relatives.
Five minutes out was too good to pass up.
* * *
‘Before you say “I can’t save them all,” I know all that.’ Max was staring out of the window, his shoulders hunched as if there was a cold wind, not even bothering to turn as Tessa tentatively came into the staffroom.
For a second she wondered how he had known it was her, but she didn’t say anything, just stood at the door, watching Max, feeling his pain and wishing more than anything in the world that she could go over and put her arms around him, somehow ease some of the agony she knew that he was feeling.
But it wasn’t her place.
‘Here...’ Walking over, she handed him the casualty card which Max stared at for a moment. ‘You’d best write it up while it’s still fresh in your mind.’
‘As if I’m going to forget.’ Tossing the card down, he moved nearer the window. ‘Did you finish arranging your date with Luke?’
There was a spiteful note to his voice that Tessa for the moment ignored, choosing instead to put him right in a calm and matter-of-fact voice. ‘It was Luke who was inappropriate in there, Max, not me.’
Tessa’s apparent calmness only accentuated his pettiness and Max at least had the grace to look shamefaced. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘What’s going on, Max?’ She watched as he stiffened, and though her question was bold and direct, there was nothing brave about how Tessa was feeling. She had only been gone a week, but in that short space of time so much seemed to have changed. Something had happened, not just between Max and Emily, not just the fact he was leaving for London. Their friendship seemed to have shifted, subtly perhaps but there was a definite move away from the easy comradeship they had enjoyed for the last five years, a definite shift in Max’s demeanour towards her.
‘Nothing’s going on,’ Max finally answered. ‘I just didn’t like the way Luke was behaving. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I know you’ve got more integrity than to speak over a patient like that.’
She could have pushed, could have insisted on a deeper response, but even as Tessa opened her mouth to probe further, she knew she wasn’t going to. Max wanted to talk, he’d already told her that, and though a cosy meal might answer a few of her questions, it could only generate a multitude of others.
It was far easier to accept his explanation, to shrug it off with an easy smile and return the conversation to the more familiar territory of Tessa’s dating disasters.
‘Anyway, for your information, there’s not going to be another date. One was more than enough. Luke bored me senseless.’
‘He seems nice.’ Max shrugged.
‘Y
ou didn’t have to go out with him,’ Tessa said, rolling her eyes. ‘All he talked about was work.’
‘All we talk about is work,’ Max pointed out.
‘Well, at least it’s interesting. I now know how many gamma rays it takes to get a decent view of a gallbladder, how long it takes for a barium swallow to work its way through the digestive system.’ They were finally smiling at each other, chatting away as they always did, analysing Tessa’s appalling love life, just as they’d done for years...
So why did it feel so strained?
‘I’d better do these notes.’ Picking up the casualty card, Max rummaged in his pocket. ‘Have you got a pen?’
Tessa handed him one. ‘That’s the second one I’ve given you today,’ she pointed out. ‘I’m going to buy you one on a rope to wear around your neck.’ Her very poor attempt to lighten the atmosphere went without comment and for an age nothing was said, with Tessa doing nothing to break the silence as Max wrote the notes on the back of the card.
‘I didn’t get the time of death.’ Max’s pen paused over the page and she watched as he swallowed hard.
‘Twelve fifty-two,’ Tessa said softly, watching as the pen jerked across the page, feeling the agony behind each word that he wrote. ‘Max, don’t bite my head off again, but you do know that you did everything possible in there to save him, don’t you?’
‘I know that.’ The bitter edge to his voice had gone, replaced instead by weary resignation. ‘In fact, I knew it was over as soon as he hit the department, I knew he was finished before we’d even started.’
‘It would have been nice to have been proved wrong for once.’ Pushing aside a pile of well-thumbed magazine, Tessa perched on the coffee-table. Picking up the remote, she flicked off the television blaring in the corner.
Silence seemed somehow more fitting.
‘He was nineteen, Tessa. Nineteen years old, fit and strong with everything ahead of him, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do to save him.’
‘Not a single thing,’ Tessa said very deliberately. ‘But sometimes you are proved wrong Max, we all are. Every now and then a patient comes in that we’re all sure won’t make it and despite all the odds, despite the worse predictions, it all comes together, whether it’s medicine or a miracle. Every now and then we’re glad to be proved wrong, and that’s why we do it. That’s why we give the patients the benefit of the doubt and go on working on them long after logic says stop, long after the textbooks say it’s over, because occasionally miracles do happen.’
‘Just not today.’ Grey eyes turned to her and she ached, physically ached to go over to him. ‘As soon as Luke put the X-ray up, I knew there was nothing we could do.’
‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? This new job I mean?’ It was a candid question, but it wasn’t a loaded one. Despite Tessa’s internal objection to Max going, she truly didn’t have a secret agenda here, just a genuine concern for her colleague and friend. ‘Won’t this new job be too much for you?’
He almost smiled. ‘Are you psychic or something? I’ve been standing here wondering the same thing.’ He ran a weary hand across his forehead. ‘You’d think that I’d be used to it by now. Maybe I shouldn’t let it get to me so much.’
‘I think you’re a better doctor because it does get to you,’ Tessa volunteered, blushing to her roots as she did so. ‘I know if it was me or mine on that resus bed I’d want a doctor who cared, one who was prepared to give me the benefit of the doubt. But we’re not talking about the patients here, Max, we’re talking about the effect it has on you. I’ve worked with you for five years, we’ve had this conversation more times than I can count, but at least they’re relatively few and far between and nine times out of ten it’s someone elderly. I know it still hurts, I know it’s still sad, but at least you can console yourself that they’ve had a life. What’s it going to be like in a children’s hospital? When every death is agony?’
‘It’s not all about death.’
‘I know, Max. I know there’ll be more wins than losses, more saves than misses, we both know the platitudes, we’ve said them until we’re blue in the face, but you take a piece of each one with you, it hurts you more perhaps than most. How are you going to be on the other side of the world when all the losses, all the misses are children?’
‘You mean, who’s going to come into the coffee-room and give me a pep talk?’
He was smiling now, his eyes crinkling in that endearing way, and the blush that had just about faded from Tessa’s face returned with venom. ‘Oh, I’m sure the staff will be just as nice. No doubt, there’ll be nurses falling over themselves to console you.’
‘It won’t be the same, though.’ His face was suddenly serious. ‘It’s starting to all sink in now I’ve actually handed in my notice and it’s all official. It’s starting to hit me that I’m really going.’
You don’t have to, Tessa wanted to say, but knew it wasn’t what he needed to hear. Instead, she tucked her hands under her legs, a rather pathetic safeguard to keep her hands where they should be, so tempting was it to reach out to him.
‘I can’t imagine getting up each day, going to work, drinking my coffee, moaning about the traffic or the weather.’ He smiled, but it was loaded with sadness. ‘I just can’t imagine doing all that each day...’ His voice trailed off and Tessa stared at the floor, waiting to hear about the comradeship in the department, the friends he’d made, the team he’d built—braced herself even for an endearing reference to Emily. But what Max said, the words that filled the still silent coffee-room made Tessa eternally grateful that she had sat down when she’d entered. Only her eyes jerked up as he spoke, confusion flickering there, her mouth literally dropping open as his eyes searched her face for a reaction.
‘I just can’t picture myself, Tessa, can’t quite picture doing all of this without seeing you.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘CAN I have a word, Tessa?’
How Tessa would have loved to have said no to Kim’s request, to have shaken her head and kicked the door shut, to turn to Max and ask just what he’d meant by that, just what the hell had got into him this morning. But, of course, she didn’t. Swallowing hard, she tore her eyes away from Max, registering he looked as stunned by his words as Tessa had felt on hearing them.
‘Sure, Kim.’
‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Max’s voice for once sounded anything but confident and Tessa was positive there was a hint of a blush darkening his face.
‘It’s OK, Max, you don’t have to go,’ Kim offered. ‘I’m sure you’ve worked out what it’s about.’
‘Uh-oh.’ Max put his hands up to his ears and shook his head. ‘Sounds like secret women’s business. I’m out of here.’
Kim laughed. Even Tessa managed a half-hearted attempt at a smile but her mind was still working overtime, was still reeling from what Max had said, to give an Oscar-winning performance. He stopped at the door, turned and gave that endearing smile.
‘Am I allowed to say congratulations?’
‘Not yet.’ Kim held up her crossed fingers. ‘I’ll be twelve weeks on Friday, touch wood. You can save it for then.’
‘Do you want to go through to the office?’ Tessa suggested, and Kim nodded gratefully. Typical emergency nurses, they made a quick coffee before heading off, careful not to miss an opportunity for a caffeine hit.
‘How’s Phil doing?’ Tessa asked when she realised Kim wasn’t quite ready to open up.
‘He’s gone for a CAT scan. Emily went with him, she’s finally admitted that she’s worried about his head injury. She’s so hard to work with,’ Kim moaned. ‘Give me Max any day.’
‘I know Emily can seem difficult,’ Tessa said quickly, keen to dispel any bad feelings before they blew up—complaints about Emily’s bedside manner were becoming rather too familiar. ‘But she’s a brilliant doctor.’
‘Oh, I’m sure she is,’ Kim said, though she sounded far from convinced. ‘But take it from a grad nurse, someti
mes the odd word of encouragement wouldn’t go amiss. The only reason she doesn’t have me in floods of tears like the rest of the grads and junior staff is because I’m in my thirties. I’ve got enough life experience not to let her aloofness get to me.’
‘It’s just the way she works. Look, Kim, orthopaedics is very male-dominated. Emily’s only too aware, in the nicest way possible, that she’s very blonde, very small and very pretty. Imagine how hard it must be for her. Every time she stops for a chat or a giggle she’s seen as shallow, every time she gets upset about a patient they blame it on hormones.’
‘Well, I can sympathise with that,’ Kim sniffed.
‘Just bear it in mind. Everything Emily does she has to do ten times better to get any credit. It’s no wonder she’s focussed. Just don’t take it personally.’
‘OK.’ Kim nodded. ‘I’ll try. Hey, did you see her necklace, loads of tiny little shells?’
‘Don’t tell me.’ Tessa rolled her eyes and took off her charge nurse hat for a moment, not wanting to come across as impervious to Kim’s very real concerns. ‘Emily made it herself. Is there anything that woman can’t do?’
They shared a little laugh and the tension was broken. A naturally nosy person, Tessa was curious but not in a malicious way. She loved the opportunity nursing gave her to glimpse into people’s lives, and as a manager she was now afforded the same insight into her colleagues, her status delivering the unspoken word that the conversation wouldn’t leave the room.
‘Am I allowed to say congratulations?’ Tessa ventured, slightly startled by the tears that suddenly appeared in Kim’s eyes.
‘Yes, please.’
Wrapping her friend and colleague in a hug, Tessa pulled a box of tissues from the desk.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,’ Kim started. ‘I didn’t think I’d need to just yet, I don’t usually end up in Resus.’
The Elusive Consultant Page 4