The Elusive Consultant

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘Max, please, stop...’

  ‘I will not stop. If I wanted to, I could write an incident report. If I wanted to, I could make sure you never go out on another rescue. There’s a pecking order for a reason, Tessa. There’s a leader because someone has to make the calls, make the decisions, and today it was me and you deliberately, blatantly defied me.’

  ‘Please, Max...’ His harsh words were possibly merited, Tessa conceded, and any other time she could have dealt with them, argued her point, bit back with a smart reply or a persuasive argument, but a black wave of nausea, more overwhelming than the waves she had so recently faced, was rolling in now, overwhelming her with ten times the force of the ocean as the ambulance floor spun like a merry-go-round at the fairground. ‘Stop.’

  ‘No, I will not stop. Just because you’ve done the trauma course,’ Max ranted, his eyes on the patient, completely missing the grey tinge to her lips, the beads of sweat forming on her brow.

  ‘Max...’ Tessa lurched as he finally turned his head and saw her. ‘I’m going to be sick.’

  There was nothing she could do to take away the indignity of the situation. Max, one hand on the IV flask, none too gently pushed her head between her knees with the other as Jim handed her a plastic bag and Tessa hunched over it, crying, retching and utterly, completely humiliated as Max was yet again proved right.

  She must have swallowed half the ocean.

  She was too weak, too exhausted to offer any assistance as the ambulance screeched into the hospital grounds. In seconds the stretcher was being rushed though to Resus and all Tessa could do was sit in the back, white and shaking, until Kim appeared some moments later.

  ‘Max told me to come and fetch the heroine.’

  ‘Max said no such thing,’ Tessa said ruefully, managing a very weak grin. ‘Hit me with the truth. What did he really say?’

  ‘OK, he told me to make sure “the idiot who risked her neck” got into some warm clothes and had her bruises checked over.’

  ‘I don’t need to be checked over,’ Tessa said, taking Kim’s arms and somewhat unsteadily stepping out of the ambulance, her legs trembling violently. ‘But, yes, please to the warm clothes. How’s the child? Have we got a name yet?’

  ‘Jamie Hunter, and he’s not eleven—he’s a small thirteen and according to his friend drank the best part of a bottle of wine. Probably why he’s still alive, he must have bounced all the way down.’

  ‘Great.’

  The last thing Tessa wanted was to be checked over, particularly as a very unruffled Emily breezed into the cubicle.

  ‘Look at you,’ she said, her blue eyes wide. ‘You look as if you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.’

  ‘Dragged up a cliff actually. Look, Emily, I’m fine, just a few bruises.’

  ‘You know you need to be seen. Jamie’s in X-ray. He’s got more than enough staff with him so Max asked if I could look you over as I’m the only female doctor down here.’

  Max probably thought he was being sensitive, Tessa thundered internally as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on a gown then lay down on the hard trolley and awaited inspection. Emily might be the only female doctor on, but she was also size eight, honey brown and had probably only ever seen cellulite on one of her patients.

  Well, she was about to get an eyeful now!

  ‘My goodness.’ Emily hastily sketched a rather unflattering body on the casualty card and proceeded to document Tessa’s multiple bruises. ‘You’re going to be sore.’

  ‘I already am,’ Tessa muttered as nimble fingers probed her, not even bothering to pull in her stomach as Emily pushed and prodded. What was the point?

  There was no competition.

  Even Emily’s nails were gorgeous. Tessa sighed to herself, blushing to her roots at the indignity of it all. Not flash and long, just very white and very neat, her diamond ring flashing now and then as it caught one of the overhead lights.

  ‘Nothing broken,’ Emily concluded. ‘No signs of concussion.’

  ‘Can I get back to work, then?’

  ‘The only place you’re going,’ Emily said firmly, ‘is bed. I’ll give you a choice, though. You can either go home without argument, or I’ll admit you to the obs ward.’

  ‘I’m supposed to be taking Jane home,’ Tessa protested, but even that was thwarted as a concerned-looking Jane bobbed into the cubicle.

  ‘Take your own advice, Tessa—get a cab charge. The staff car park’s going to be full tonight with Emergency staff’s cars. Max won’t be driving with that gash on his head. He needs stitches,’ Jane added. ‘Chris is going to do it.’

  ‘No way,’ Emily said, a very tight smile appearing at edge of her lips. ‘That pleasure will be entirely mine.’ Signing off the casualty card, she turned her blue eyes on Tessa. ‘Home or the obs ward?’

  ‘Home,’ Tessa grumbled, lying back resignedly against the white pillow.

  ‘I’ll give you a note till Monday. Just one other thing...’ The fun hadn’t quite finished, though, and Emily gave a small apologetic smile as Tessa waited for the inevitable question, rolling up the sleeve of her hospital gown with a miserable sigh before the words had even left Emily’s lips. ‘When did you last have a tetanus shot?’

  Only when she was gone did Tessa sit up. ‘I’ll be in tomorrow, so don’t go booking any staff.’

  ‘She’s given you four days off,’ Jane argued. ‘Take it, I know I would.’

  ‘I’m just bruised. I’ll see how I feel tomorrow. Anyway, I’ve got Max’s present to bring in. He’ll have to have it in the bag, there’s no way I’m stopping at the milk bar for wrapping paper looking like this!’

  Shooing everyone out, Tessa pulled on some clean, dry theatre blues. She didn’t want to go home, she wanted to see how Jamie was doing, wanted to be in there working on him, following her patient through. And later, when he had been moved to the ward or transferred, she wanted to sit down with her colleagues and a steaming mug of coffee to talk things out, to go over and over their movements, their decisions, to debate the whys and wherefores, to prophesy on the outcomes.

  Sure, no doubt on Monday a memo would appear in her pigeonhole, inviting her to talk things through in a cosy little ‘chat’ with the staff counsellor, but formal debriefing had never done it for Tessa. There was something so clinical, so wooden about sitting on a hard-backed chair with a salaried face nodding you on, urging you to reveal all, to share how it had been for you as you’d dangled off a cliff face, pulled a child from the clutches of the ocean. What would they know about the impulse, the passion, the dedication that spurred Emergency workers on, made them walk that extra mile for someone they had never even met? How could they understand her motives behind ringing up later tonight, the dread as you waited to be connected, the relief if he was still hanging in there, the utter despair if it had all been futile. How could her feelings be summed up in a paragraph in her staff file?

  Coffee and the staffroom did it for Tessa every time.

  Tessa saw Max briefly as she made her way to the ambulance bay. He was wheeling his patient back from X-ray and by the grim look on his face Tessa knew she hadn’t been forgiven.

  ‘Are you going home?’ He nodded to the staff to go on without him.

  ‘Apparently so.’ Tessa shrugged. ‘I wasn’t exactly given a say in the matter.’

  ‘Did someone check you over?’

  ‘Your fiancée.’ Tessa bit back, smiling sweetly, though it stopped far short of her eyes. ‘How’s Jamie?’

  ‘He’s got multiple leg fractures, but you knew that anyway. Thankfully his neck looks OK on the films and the CT scan of his abdomen came up clear.’

  ‘What about his head injury?’

  ‘Hard to say.’ Max was looking at the floor, the walls, anywhere but at Tessa. ‘Once the alcohol wears off we’ll be better able to assess his neurological status. Tessa, back there at Burney’s—’

  ‘You were out of line, Max,’ Tessa finished for him.

 
; ‘No, Tessa, I wasn’t. I was in charge, it was my call as to who went down there.’

  ‘Someone had to.’

  ‘No, they didn’t. Someone has to make the calls, and in my opinion it was just too dangerous. The tide was practically in, the cliff face was unstable and we had no back-up. You put yourself at risk, at serious risk, and before you snap back that I did the same, I’m more experienced, I’ve done abseiling—’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Max barked.

  ‘I feel like a schoolgirl getting a telling-off. I’m nearly thirty, Max, I’ve got a nursing degree, I’ve done my advance trauma course and I’ve been out on plenty rescues. Admittedly, I don’t spend my days off dangling off cliff faces in the name of pleasure and I’m not an expert on walking boots or the benefits of reef knots as opposed to...’ Tessa searched her mind for another example, but her time in the Guides was a very distant memory. ‘To other types of knots,’ Tessa finished lamely.

  A tiny smile was starting to tug at the corner of his lips, so tiny it was barely there.

  ‘But I wasn’t on a suicide mission out there, Max. I wouldn’t have gone down if I genuinely didn’t think I was capable. Now, if you’ve quiet finished lecturing me, my taxi’s here, I’d like to get home,’ Tessa lied, haughtily pulling her bag over her shoulder, then immediately regretting it. There was obviously a bruise there that Emily had missed.

  ‘Will you be OK?’

  ‘I’m off duty, Max.’ Tessa shrugged. ‘So it’s not your concern.’

  Walking out to the ambulance bay, Tessa didn’t look back, didn’t even bother to say goodbye.

  There would be plenty of time for all that tomorrow.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NEVER had a warm bubble bath been so gratefully received. Wincing as she lowered herself, Tessa lay for ages, topping up the water every now and then, staring at the ceiling, torturing herself by going over and over recent events—the inquest, the kiss, the moment of weakness before the call-out.

  The rescue didn’t even get a look in.

  Pulling out the plug, Tessa rubbed moisturiser into every inch of her bruised, battered body, then ran a brush listlessly through her hair before padding into her bedroom.

  So much for wowing Max at his leaving party, Tessa thought, looking at the grey strappy dress she had bought on her most recent spending spree. Not that wowing Max had ever been on the agenda, but she would at least have liked to have looked good when she said goodbye, let him glimpse what he was missing.

  There was no chance of that now, no hope of wowing anyone. The only thing in her room that would cover all her bruises was the sunflower bedspread and a pair of gumboots!

  The next time I fall in love, Tessa thought crossly, lying on the bed and staring at yet another ceiling, it will be with a nice uncomplicated single man, who absolutely adores me, and perhaps most importantly has never even set foot inside a hospital.

  Doctors with over-inflated egos were way down on her list of priorities!

  Next time.

  Exploring her wounded heart, Tessa felt a tiny spark of hope. There would be a next time. Just because she had been hurt, it didn’t mean there wasn’t someone out there for her. Someone who would love her, adore her and, more importantly, someone who was free to love her.

  It wasn’t as if she was short of offers. OK, she didn’t have traffic-stopping good looks or a figure to die for, but the only person who seemed to mind about her weight was Tessa herself, and what man would ever complain that her breasts were too large?

  There was a world of opportunity out there, but just as surely as hope sparked it faded. The one image she couldn’t shake, the one person she truly loved coming into her focus, drowning out all other images.

  Max.

  It wasn’t a man she wanted, a boyfriend, a partner for the sake of it. She wasn’t lonely or dissatisfied with life; there wasn’t an aching gap that could only be filled by a male presence.

  It was all about Max.

  All of it.

  Normally Tessa wouldn’t have answered the door wrapped in a towel, but when the doorbell rang out, there was nothing normal about the way Tessa was feeling. So fed up was Tessa that for once in her life she was determined to hastily bid the inevitable salesman goodbye without receiving a ten-minute sales pitch, or give a polite ‘Not interested’ to religious converters instead of ending up the recipient of a pile of brochures and the promise of a follow-up visit.

  The only trouble was, her list of possibilities hadn’t included Max Slater, standing on her step, bruised and gorgeous, and Max didn’t need to deliver a sales pitch, she’d already sampled the goods. And as for converting her...

  ‘Thought you could use this.’ He held up a bottle of brandy, looking unsure of his reception, as if any second he might change his mind and bolt back down her rather overgrown garden path.

  ‘I don’t like brandy.’ It wasn’t the wittiest answer, but it beat slamming the door in his face, which was her second reaction.

  Pulling him in and burying her face in Max’s chest had been Tessa’s first.

  ‘Strictly for medicinal purposes.’

  Only her head was peering around the door and she eyed him suspiciously.

  ‘How’s Jamie?’

  ‘Good.’ Max shrugged. ‘Well, that’s a slight exaggeration. He’s better than I thought he would be. We were about to transfer him to an intensive care bed at the children’s hospital but he started fighting the tube and we extubated him. He’s on a high-dependency bed on the children’s ward.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll have brain damage?’

  ‘If he hasn’t now, he will once his father gets hold of him.’ The tiny joke relaxed her and her hand, which had been gripping the door so tightly, relaxed as she laughed.

  Big mistake.

  As the door swung open slightly his eyes drifted down over her body, his unsure look instantly replaced by horror, but thankfully, having seen herself in the bedroom mirror, Tessa knew that it wasn’t her rather generously proportioned body having that negative effect on him.

  ‘It’s not as bad as it looks,’ she said almost defensively.

  ‘It looks terrible.’ Max walked into her home uninvited, but shamefully welcome, and it felt so strange to be standing before him, scantily dressed on the threshold of something far more treacherous than a cliff face in a storm.

  There was no safety harness here, no manuals dictating procedures, no leaders, only followers.

  And following your heart was a dangerous, dangerous game.

  ‘Oh, Tessa.’ His hands gently explored the purple angry swelling on her shoulder and she winced involuntarily at his touch, her head telling herself to stop this now, while every shredded nerve end seemed to scream internally for more. For his cool fingers to soothe, for his gentle touch to massage away the pain. ‘I’m sorry I shouted. You were right to go down, I know that. I’ve just never been so scared...’ Troubled eyes looked up and found hers. ‘Actually, that’s not true.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Even her voice sounded strange, as if it belonged to someone else. The Tessa she knew, the Tessa whose body she’d lived in for the last twenty-nine years, would have stopped this before it had even started, never let him in the door dressed only in a towel, would have demanded answers, explanations, but right now all Tessa could live for was this moment.

  ‘Leaving you behind, Tessa, that’s what scares me the most.’

  ‘Emily...’

  ‘It’s over, Tessa, I promise you. I can’t explain it yet. Surely you know by now that I’d never hurt you. That you can trust me.’

  And despite it all, despite the unanswered questions, she did trust him. Max was her safety harness, the one waiting at the top, Max who would never, ever let her fall. Max, who despite his vocal reservations had given her the strength to go down. And it was Max now who was giving her the strength to go on, to cast aside her doubts, to take the whole thing to its natural inevitable conclusion.
All she wanted, needed, desired was now.

  Tessa trusted him, and for now at least, that was enough. Saturated with emotion, trembling at his presence, the horrible, horrible days that had preceded this moment seemed to melt away, and all Tessa wanted was the feel of his lips on hers, for the bliss of his touch on the one part of her body that wasn’t aching or sore or utterly, completely devastated.

  She wanted him to kiss it better, to take away the doubt and the pain and swear it wouldn’t come back in the morning. And when his lips met hers, when they moved in heated unison, when his arms gently wrapped around hers, this time she didn’t push him away, it was Tessa that pulled him closer. And later, when kissing wasn’t enough to quell their desires, when his gentle, wary touch wasn’t sufficient to stem the rising tide, when his whispered words were no longer what she needed to hear, it was Tessa who finally followed her heart and led him to the bedroom, Tessa who held her breath in wonder as he impatiently pulled off his clothes. She stared at him for a moment. Five years of imagining, five years of longing and still her mind hadn’t done him justice. She had thought him thin, but the man standing naked before her was toned and as muscular as an athlete. His chest bore the bruises of the rescue, purple bruises beneath the soft mat of hair that dusted his chest, silken not wiry, she registered as her trembling hand brushed over it, his nipples mahogany, down, ever down her fingers worked, boldly taking him in her hands, touching him tentatively, her eyes wide in excited wonder at the bliss of feeling him, swollen and warm in her gently cupped hand. Looking up for a moment, she was almost knocked sideways by the lust in his eyes, the boyish, mischievous face she had known so well lost now for ever as he smiled the intimate smile of a lover.

  ‘Seems you are an expert on knots after all.’ Somehow her towel had stayed up and Max’s impatient fingers wrestled with the tie. One small final joke, one last glimpse at her friend before he became her lover. As the towel slipped down to the floor, as Tessa stood there she waited, wishing she’d kept to one of her thousand diets, wishing her battered body wasn’t how he’d see her for the first time. But any doubts she’d had, any niggling feelings of insecurity were dispelled in an instant when she saw the wonder in his eyes, felt the passion in his touch as with a low moan he buried his face in her splendid bosom, his lips brushing the white creamy flesh, his tongue working its magic on her jutting pink nipples as his hand slipped between her parted thighs, her groin lifting toward him like a reflex action, small gasps coming from her throat as his mere touch had her pulsing, writhing in the palm of his hand.