Accidental Reunion

by Carol Marinelli

  It was Lucy who responded this time. ‘Implement a system of assessing an elderly patient when they come in—if they need pressure area care then make sure it’s carried out regularly.’

  ‘It wouldn’t work,’ Lila said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe for a couple of weeks, but sooner or later everyone would slip back into the old ways. We could start doing four-hourly pressure area rounds, like on the wards. Anybody needing pressure area care would be treated then.’

  ‘A fantastic idea. What do you think, Hester?’

  Yvonne turned and addressed the unit manager, who gave a thin smile. ‘Worth some thought, I’m sure,’ Hester agreed, though her tone could hardly be described as enthusiastic.

  The meeting continued in the same vein. They bounced ideas off each other, trying to come up with solutions to the endless problems nursing threw up, but finally at ten to nine they were done, leaving just enough time to grab a quick coffee before the night shift started.

  ‘Thanks a bunch,’ Sue said good-naturedly as they picked up their bags. ‘If we don’t have enough work already, now the Horse will have us doing pressure area rounds. I came down to Emergency to escape all that!’

  ‘Sister Bailey, if I could have a quick word in my office?’ Hester’s voice was hardly friendly, and, forgoing any chance of a coffee, Lila turned and followed her boss down the corridor, closing the door behind her as Hester took a seat at her desk.

  Anticipating a ticking off for her gymnastic display, Lila tried to keep her face impassive. Her lateness she could accept being told off for—after all, none of the staff knew the true extent of her mother’s illness. If they had she was sure they would have happily made allowances. However, Lila consistently refused to apologise for having a bit of fun now and then. Heaven knew, the staff worked hard enough in this department—between them they saw enough terrible sights to send even the most stable person searching their soul. Letting off a bit of steam at work did no harm, in Lila’s eyes; in fact, she felt it did a lot of good. It was a point she and Hester would never agree on, and one of the many reasons Lila preferred night duty. Away from the politics of days, away from the bureaucracy and the demands of admin, staff were able to get on with what they were paid to do—nurse.

  But for now, at least, the waste of two hospital bandages wasn’t what Hester had on her mind.

  ‘I’ve been going through the applications for the night associate charge nurse position, and I see you’re not amongst them.’

  As she sat down on the chair Lila’s impassive expression slipped for a moment. ‘I thought it would be a waste of time,’ she admitted honestly, after a moment’s silence.

  ‘Why? Don’t you want the job?’ Hester’s voice was crisp, her stare direct, but, undaunted, Lila looked her directly in the eye.

  ‘On the contrary, I’d love the position. However, I know that we don’t always see eye to eye on my methods of nursing—’

  ‘Your nursing methods don’t worry me,’ Hester interrupted. ‘I don’t doubt for a moment that you’re an excellent nurse. If I had any concerns in that area you’d have been gone long ago. What concerns me is your disregard for detail, your casual attitude to the rules, your lateness.’

  Which was a backhanded compliment if ever Lila had heard one. Biting back a smart reply, she kept her voice even. ‘Which is why I didn’t apply for the job.’

  Hester didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she flicked through the pile of résumés on the desk in front of her. ‘All of these are from external applicants. While I don’t doubt that their credentials are excellent, and while I agree I don’t always see eye to eye with you, Lila, I do think you’re a good nurse. I’m also paid to have foresight, and I can’t see it going down too well with the rest of your colleagues if I employ an outsider for a job you’re effectively already doing.’

  Hester had a point there. Since Jane Church had left, more often than not Lila had been in charge of the department, and the rest of the night staff had been pushing endlessly for Lila to apply for the position permanently.

  ‘Now, I’m certainly not going to hand you such a senior position on a plate, but I definitely would seriously consider you if you decided to go ahead and apply. Who knows? When it’s you handling the stock-ordering and budgets, maybe a measly couple of bandages might take on a greater importance.’

  Lila managed a faintly sheepish grin as Hester continued. ‘The applications close tomorrow at five p.m. It’s up to you whether your name’s amongst them. I’d better let you get back to the unit.’

  Making her way back to emergency, Lila shook her head in disbelief. Hester suggesting she apply for the position was the last thing she had been expecting. Correction, Lila thought as she rounded the corner and saw Declan standing by the whiteboard, studying the patient list. Declan Haversham strolling back into her life as, of all things, the newly appointed emergency registrar was the last thing. How on earth was she supposed to deal with this?

  As she approached the huddle of nurses taking the handover, painfully aware of his eyes on her, Lila took a deep breath. It was going to be a long, long night.

  Once the handover was completed, as the nurse in charge it was up to Lila to assign the nurses their various roles for the night. It was quite a complicated task. Assessing the patients who were in the department, along with nurses’ capabilities, was a constantly evolving juggling act.

  ‘Sue, you take the obs ward, if anyone gets admitted, otherwise stay down in section A with me. For now start shifting some of the patients up to the wards,’ Lila said, writing swiftly on the whiteboard as she did so. ‘Lucy and Amy, you stay in section A with me, and help Sue. We’ll all cover Resus together. Gemma, perhaps you could close section B now and bring the patient list up here. And, girls,’ she added, calling back the dispersing group, ‘remember your para-training.’

  ‘Will do, Lila.’ Sue grinned. ‘Hey, what did the Horse want?’

  ‘What do you think she wanted?’ Lila said lightly. She certainly wasn’t about to divulge the real reason for Hester’s little chat. It would be bad enough not getting the job, without every one knowing about it! ‘You do realise I cost the hospital four dollars tonight, teaching you Neanderthals the finer points of gymnastics.’

  ‘And a real treat it was, too.’ Lila pointedly didn’t look round as Declan came over.

  ‘I never knew you were such a talented gymnast.’ She could hear the familiar dry humour in his voice, but still she didn’t look. ‘But then what would I know? I never even realised you were a nurse.’

  Sue gave them both a quizzical look. ‘I’ll get cubicle four up to the ward, then,’ she said, leaving them to it.

  For the longest time they stood there, both pretending to study the whiteboard. It was Declan who finally broke the silence. ‘So you were serious about nursing after all?’

  Lila gave a curt nod. ‘It looks that way.’

  ‘I guess you must have got over your weak stomach?’

  ‘Not in the slightest.’

  He looked up at her wry chuckle. ‘But you work in Emergency!’ His voice was incredulous, but Lila was used to shock when she admitted her weakness. Her response was well rehearsed.

  ‘Name one person who loves every aspect of their job.’ When he didn’t immediately answer Lila jumped right in. ‘See, you can’t! Emergency isn’t just about blood and gore—that’s just one aspect of it…’

  A smile was twitching on his lips, and those smoky dark eyes were crinkling in that endearingly familiar way.

  ‘What?’ Her voice was defensive, an instinctive reaction to his response. She still read his face so well, almost knew what he was thinking.

  ‘You’re still as passionate as ever.’ He cleared his throat, as if realising the faux pas he had just committed. ‘I mean…’ His voice trailed off.

  Passionate. The word hung in the air between them, conjuring dangerous images of long ago.

  Images best forgotten.

  Finally he found his voice. ‘How on earth
do you cope?’

  She swallowed hard. ‘Red cordial helps.’ Her words were light and glib, a deliberate attempt to lighten the increasing tension.

  ‘Red cordial?’

  ‘Any blood I see, I just imagine it’s cordial.’

  He was really smiling now. ‘And does it work?’

  ‘Mostly.’

  ‘And when it doesn’t?’

  It was Lila’s turn to smile now. Rolling her eyes, she pulled a face. ‘I just hope for a soft landing.’

  ‘You’re not serious?’

  ‘Absolutely. But don’t worry,’ she added quickly, ‘I always get heaps of warning, and I haven’t fallen on top of a patient yet—touch wood.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ There was a long pause as again they pretended to look at the whiteboard. ‘How’s your mum doing?’ His voice was gentle now, wary.

  ‘She’s fine. Well, not fine, exactly, but we’re managing.’

  ‘That’s good.’ The silence that followed was deafening. ‘Where is she now?’

  Lila turned then, the look of contempt on her face clearly apparent. ‘At home, Declan, with me—where she belongs.’

  ‘But how…?’ His voice was bewildered now. ‘It’s been eight years. How do you manage? I mean with work and everything?’

  ‘I manage.’ She gave him the frostiest of looks. ‘That’s all you need to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get on.’ But as she went to go his hand reached out and caught her wrist, gently pulling her back.

  ‘Lila,’ he said, not letting her go. ‘I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable—I had no idea that you worked here.’

  Though he wasn’t holding her tightly, she was achingly aware of the force of his touch. Shrugging him off, Lila picked up a marker pen. ‘Well, how would you know? It’s not as if we kept in touch…’

  ‘Which was your choice, as I recall.’

  Crossing out the name of the patient in cubicle four on the whiteboard, Lila scribbled in the new patient’s details. ‘I can assure you, Declan, your being here doesn’t worry me one bit. We’ve both got jobs to do. It doesn’t mean we have to be the best of friends; we’re just colleagues.’

  ‘No, but it would be nice if we could at least be civil. Who knows? With a bit of effort from both sides maybe we could be friends again. After all, we had some good times, Lila.’

  She hesitated. Friends was the last thing she could ever be with him, but if she betrayed the strength of the emotions that were engulfing her now then surely that would only make things more uncomfortable. Forcing a smile, Lila turned and faced him, dragging her eyes up to meet his. ‘Sure—why not?’ she said finally, offering her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you Dr Haversham.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Sister Bailey. Tell me, would you be interested in catching up for a drink some time?’

  Lila’s laugh was almost genuine. ‘Don’t push your luck, Declan. Friends at work is enough to be going on with, I think. Don’t you?’

  *

  By eleven p.m. the place was full, fit to burst. Not only were there a lot of sick people waiting to be seen and dealt with, but also the pubs were turning out and with them the inevitable fights and arguments that invariably found their way to the emergency department. The staff were all more than used to the organised chaos, and dealt good-humouredly with the constant stream, keeping a careful eye out for any likely sources of trouble.

  ‘I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ a young man slurred as the paramedics lifted him over onto a trolley. ‘I didn’t know nurses were so good-looking.’

  Lila rolled her eyes as she pulled on her gloves.

  ‘Fight outside Kerry’s pub,’ the paramedic reeled off. ‘Terry Linton, eighteen years old, multiple lacerations courtesy of a knife; they all appear superficial and his obs have been stable throughout.’

  ‘Thanks, guys. Any more to bring in?’

  ‘But of course.’ He gave her a rueful grin, depositing soiled blankets in the linen skip. ‘No doubt we’ll catch you later.’

  ‘No doubt about it.’

  Undressing Terry, Lila ignored his extremely unsubtle advances, concentrating instead on checking each wound carefully. The paramedics were right; they did look superficial—except for one across his left loin. Though small, Lila couldn’t assess the depth of the wound, and from the paramedic’s description of the knife there was every chance it might have gone deep enough to cause some internal trauma.

  ‘You ever been to Kerry’s? You should try it. They have a happy hour every night from five till six, drinks half-price—even those fancy cocktails girls like. I could take you when you get a night off. We’d have a real laugh.’

  As Lila placed a wad of Melolin and combine over the leaking wound the tell-tale signs of flashing stars appeared before her eyes.

  Why did blood have this effect on her? It was ridiculous that after all these years—after all the study she had done, the sights she had seen—for no reason, completely out of the blue, a small wound such as this could turn her stomach.

  ‘A real laugh,’ Lila said dryly, shifting her mind to Terry’s attempts at a chat-up. ‘I think I might give it a miss, thanks.’ Strapping the combine into place, she popped Terry into a gown and quickly recorded a set of obs.

  ‘Need a hand?’ Sue’s smiling face appeared at the curtain.

  ‘Please. I might move this one over to Resus. Can you give me a hand with the trolley?’

  That stopped him in his tracks! ‘What are you moving me there for? I’m not dying, am I?’

  ‘No, Terry, I just want to keep a closer eye on you until you’ve been seen by the doctor.’

  ‘But Resus is where they put the real crook ones. I’ve seen it on the telly. You’ll be putting those electric shock things on me next.’

  Lila grinned. ‘You watch too much television, Terry. Look,’ she said, slipping an oxygen mask over the young man’s face, ‘you’ve got some nasty wounds there. The trouble with knife wounds is that we don’t always know how deep they are until they’ve been explored. I’m just playing it safe by putting you in there for now.’

  ‘So I’m not dying?’

  ‘I certainly hope not—it makes far too much paperwork!’ Her humour relaxed Terry, and when she saw him smiling again Lila continued. ‘Still, you’re not going to be going home tonight. Is there anyone I can ring for you?’

  ‘No way. If my mum finds out she’ll kill me. If you think these wounds are bad just wait till she’s finished with me.’

  Lila glanced at the casualty card, checking his age with the one the paramedics had given. Terry was eighteen, the decision was his, and, as was common in his age group, Terry had declined to give his telephone number.

  ‘Won’t they be expecting you home?’

  ‘No.’ He screwed up his nose. ‘They’ll think I’m staying at me mate’s. I mean it. I don’t want them told.’

  ‘Up to you,’ Lila said. ‘But, Terry, if you do become ill—and I’m not saying it’s going to happen; I ask this of everyone—can I contact them then?’

  Terry looked at her suspiciously.

  ‘I promise I’ll only ring them in an emergency.’

  ‘Promise?’

  Lila nodded.

  ‘Fair enough.’ After relaying the number, Terry sat forward. ‘Can you pass me jeans up so I can get some money out? I’ll get me mate to fetch me a drink from the machine.’

  ‘Didn’t those medical dramas on the television teach you anything?’ Lila said good-naturedly. ‘Nothing to eat or drink till the doctor’s seen you.’

  Declan was tied up, so it was left to the intern, Diana Pool, to assess Terry.

  ‘They all seem pretty superficial, though I see what you mean about the one to his loin. I’d better refer him to the surgeons. I know Mr Hinkley doesn’t like knife wounds to be sutured down in the department.’

  ‘Good call,’ Lila agreed. Mr Hinkley was senior consultant of the emergency department and, though not the most exciting of personalities, he wa
s a diligent and respected boss.

  The trouble was that Jez, the surgical resident, though thorough in his examination, was less than impressed with the referral.

  ‘They’re fairly minor injuries. I’m happy for him to be stitched up and discharged.’

  ‘Fair enough. If you’re happy then so am I.’ Diana accepted back the casualty card Jez had hastily scribbled on.

  ‘Sorry, guys.’ Lila, anticipating trouble, had been discreetly hovering. ‘He’s a surgical patient now—it’s not up to Diana to stitch him.’

  Jez pursed his lips. He was young and good-looking, and also far too used to getting his own way—only not when Lila was on duty. ‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘If that’s the way you want to play it then I’ll do it myself, but can I at least have a nurse to help in Theatre?’

  Lila’s voice remained calm, friendly even, but there was no mistaking the seriousness of her tone. ‘I’m afraid not, Jez. You know as well as I do that surgical patients can’t be stitched down in Emergency. Our theatre’s only designed for superficial wounds.’

  ‘Which these are.’

  ‘Not according to Mr Hinkley: ‘‘A stab wound can only be considered superficial when the wound has been thoroughly explored.’’ He’ll either have to go to the main theatre or be stitched up on the ward, if your boss agrees. It’s the department’s policy.’

  ‘Since when were you such a stickler for policy?’ Declan’s friendly tones as he made his way over broke the rather tense atmosphere that had developed.

  ‘When the policy concerned is in the best interests of a patient then I’m a stickler.’ Lila turned defiantly from Jez to Declan. ‘I have a young man with multiple lacerations. One in particular looks deep—’

  ‘It isn’t,’ Jez broke in. ‘Look, I’m happy for him to be stitched up, I’ve even offered to do it myself, but Sister here insists he goes up to Theatre or at least a ward. Considering that the rest of the surgical team are stuck in Theatre, it could be hours until he’s seen.’ He threw a withering look at Lila. ‘And we all know the department’s policy about patient waiting times.’