* * *
‘Right, where are we going for coffee?’
Coffee?
Lucy stared at Daisy, then shut her eyes. ‘Sorry, I’d forgotten. It’s been a bit...’
She bit her lip and looked away, and Daisy tutted and started to walk. ‘Come on, we’ll go back to mine. Ben bought some really nice coffee, and I made chocolate brownies yesterday. Sometimes a girl just needs chocolate.’
Lucy hesitated for a split second, then went with her. Ben and Daisy had moved recently to a lovely Victorian house a couple of streets away. She’d been itching to see it, but now, suddenly, it didn’t seem important any more. Nothing did, apart from Andy, but Daisy’s kindness called out to her, and she knew instinctively that anything she said would stay right there and she so needed a friend to talk to.
‘What about the buggy?’ she asked as Daisy opened the battered but beautiful old front door. ‘The wheels are a bit muddy but Lottie’s asleep.’
‘Oh, you’re fine. The floor’s tiled. Bring her in.’
Daisy let Thomas out of his buggy and headed for the kitchen, and Lucy left Lottie sleeping and followed her, staring around at the shabby, tatty grandeur of the lovely old house.
‘Excuse the mess, we’ve got quite a lot to do here,’ Daisy said with a grin, reaching for the kettle, then her smile softened. ‘Sit down and relax. You look shattered, Lucy.’
She sat, unwilling to talk about the mess her marriage was in and yet so desperate to pour it all out, to share the craziness that was her life right now.
Daisy put a cake tin on the table, plonked the cafetière down beside it with a couple of mugs and a jug of foamed hot milk, then sat Thomas in his high chair with a drink and a chunk of squidgy, gooey chocolate cake that Lucy just knew would go everywhere, but Daisy didn’t seem to care in the least.
‘Right,’ she said, settling down and smiling at Lucy. ‘Coffee?’
She let her breath out on a little huff and smiled. ‘Please. That would be lovely. And some of that. It looks really good.’
Daisy put the coffee down in front of her, handed her chocolate sprinkles and a massive chunk of brownie and then stirred her coffee thoughtfully.
‘Lucy, I don’t want to invade your privacy,’ she said gently after a pregnant silence, ‘but—if you want to unload, it won’t go any further, and I can see something’s wrong. Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘Do?’ she asked, staring at Daisy and seeing concern in her eyes. They swam out of focus, and she looked quickly away. ‘I wish. We’re just—Andy’s really busy, and he’s been working stupid hours, and...’
‘And?’ Daisy prompted gently, and the floodgates opened.
‘They asked him to work on Sunday and he said yes, but he’d promised the kids he’d do something with them and I just flipped.’
‘Everyone needs a good row now and then,’ Daisy said pragmatically.
‘But it wasn’t a good row,’ she said, remembering the bitterness, the acrimony, the stubborn thrust of his jaw. ‘That would have been fine. This—this was an awful row, and I told him to go. I thought—I was just calling his bluff, but he went. He just—went. And I let him go, Daisy,’ she said, swiping at her nose because it was suddenly running and her eyes were welling and there was a sob just itching to get out if she’d only let it.
‘Oh, Lucy...’
Daisy wrapped her hand in hers and squeezed, and the simple gesture pushed Lucy over the brink. She felt the tears well over and splash down her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop them, and with a muffled murmur Daisy hugged her gently and let her cry, then shoved a tissue in her hand and let her talk.
‘He just doesn’t seem the same. I know it sounds crazy, but I feel as if I don’t know him any more. He’s not who he was—and it’s since Lottie. I thought he wanted another baby, but ever since she was born he’s been really strange—distant, distracted, as if we aren’t really there half the time. And he’s got the most amazing sense of humour normally. He’s so funny, so sharp, and that’s just gone. It’s like living with a stranger.’
‘Ben said the ED’s been bedlam since James went on holiday, and I gather the maternity leave locum’s been a bit flaky.’
‘Flaky? Try downright skiving. She’s never there. That’s why I wasn’t at book club on Friday night. And instead of saying they should shut the department and send everyone to another ED, Andy just takes another shift, and then another one, and they walk all over him, because he can’t just let people down, but the kids—’
She broke off, biting her lip, and Daisy sighed and topped up her coffee. ‘Tough choices.’
‘Impossible,’ she went on. ‘The nearest ED is miles away, and time is so important, but so is family. You’re a doctor, you know what it’s like, the hypocritical oath that tells you to put everyone before your own, so we always seem to come last.’
‘Oh, tell me about it. I’ve threatened to kill Ben before now, but I’m just as bad. We were in Theatre delivering some twins the night before our wedding, and I really wonder what would have happened if they’d needed us on our wedding night.’
Lucy smiled wryly. ‘I do understand what it’s like for him. I know how it is, but—I just feel, if I don’t fight for our marriage, then who will? Not him, he didn’t even realise it’s going down the pan. And this stupid, stupid course he’s taken on—really, I could kill him for that, because of all the unnecessary things...’
‘What’s it on?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Something to do with stabilising patients with massive trauma—juggling acts, really. He gave me an assignment to proof-read the other week and I couldn’t understand a word of it. And I’m a doctor.’
Daisy tipped her head on one side thoughtfully. ‘Is he depressed?’
‘Daisy, I have no idea. I don’t think he’s got time to be depressed, but he’s exhausted, I know that, and Lottie’s not going through the night properly yet, and I’m starting work again in two weeks, and I...’
‘You’re at your wits’ end,’ Daisy filled in gently. ‘I can understand that. When’s the course finish?’
‘The exam’s on Friday week, and then it’s done. And James is back, and they had a new locum yesterday, Andy said, so maybe it’ll sort itself out, once the pressure’s off and we can all think straight. Well, that’s what I’m hoping,’ she added, and closed her eyes and sighed. ‘Oh, I feel so disloyal talking to you about this—’
‘Don’t be stupid. You’re just letting off steam. We all need to do it, and it won’t go any further. And if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask. Anything. The kids can stay over—whatever.’
‘Oh, Daisy—that’s so kind of you.’
‘Rubbish. That’s what friends are for. And since you’re here, you can give me a hand. What do you think of this curtain fabric for the sitting room?’
* * *
It was a fortnight he could have done without, but at least the staffing crisis seemed to have been resolved now it was too late, he thought bitterly.
He went to the hospital, worked his shifts and no more, and every other evening he popped in and saw the children. Then Lucy, the girls and the dog went away to her parents for half term, he checked out of the hotel and went home, and he put his head down and worked until he was ready to drop.
And on the Friday of half term he went down to London to sit the exam, and he was so tired he could hardly answer the paper. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he just couldn’t find the words, and he caught the train home kicking himself because it was all such a phenomenal waste of time. He’d have to re-sit it, he knew that, because he’d screwed up so badly on a couple of the questions, but in the meantime his marriage was on the rocks and he’d resorted to lying to his children.
And it looked as if it had all been for nothing.
CHAPTER THREE
THEY were due back from her parents’ at lunchtime on Sunday. He was working until three, having swapped Friday with James, and then he was going home to see the children and hopefully talk to Lucy.
He had Monday off, and he’d thought they could spend the day together while the children were at school, but she was starting work at the practice that morning, apparently, so it was tonight or who knew when.
But first he had to get through the day, and it was another of those days. Cold, windy and as unpromising outside as it was in the department, and he was too tired to deal with it all.
Amongst the sports injuries and nose bleeds and dog bites was the inevitable night owl who’d sobered up and realised she’d hurt herself after falling off that table last night, and another who’d fallen down the stairs of a nightclub and fractured her skull and had only realised something was wrong this morning when she couldn’t see straight.
They tried his patience, but it wasn’t really their fault. He knew that, and it wasn’t only them. There were the people who’d lain suffering all night and finally come in when the pain had become impossible to ignore. One was a query heart attack, another had an agonising kidney stone. He shunted them off to the appropriate departments, and then a gust of wind brought a tree down on a car, and an elderly woman with head injuries was brought in.
‘Jean Darby, front seat passenger,’ he was told. ‘GCS thirteen at the scene, now ten, she’s had oxygen and tramadol.’
‘Is the driver on his way in?’ he asked, trying not to worry about Lucy and the children out on the road in this weather, but the paramedic shook his head, his face filling in the details and ratcheting up the apprehension Andy was feeling.
He frowned and picked up her left hand. There were three rings on it—a wedding ring, an engagement ring and an eternity ring.
He stared at it. He still hadn’t got Lucy the eternity ring he’d promised her when she was pregnant with Emily. Three babies later, she still didn’t have it. Another item on that blasted list of ways in which he’d failed her. Failed all of them.
He put his family out of his mind and focused on the patient who’d very likely just lost her husband of many years. For now, she needed him. His family would be fine. They’d be home by now, and he’d see them later. Unlike this poor woman, who would never see her husband again, and might never see her family.
He knew how that would feel for them. He’d lost both his parents together in an accident, only a few years ago, and he’d felt reamed out inside.
He stroked her hand, squeezing it comfortingly.
‘Hello, Jean. Can you hear me? You’re in Yoxburgh Park Hospital. You’ve had an accident in the car.’
‘Dennis,’ she mumbled. ‘Where’s my husband? I need Dennis. Please find him...’
Her words were slurring worryingly. It might have been the drugs, but he didn’t think so. She wasn’t really responding, and he whipped out his pen light and shone it in her eyes. Sluggish pupils. Not good. His hand shook and he put the pen light back in his pocket.
‘OK, Jean, just try and rest, he’s in good hands. Will somebody contact CT and X-ray, please? We need a scan and a full head and neck series. And bloods. We’ll need group and save, and—’
He stumbled, the familiar list eluding him, and he just waved a hand. ‘Do a full set of bloods—all the usuals. And five minute obs, and get Neuro down here, Kazia. And someone contact the family, please. They need to be here now.’
Leaving the SHO in charge, he walked out, needing a break, a change of air—something. He had pins and needles in his hand now, and flashing lights.
A migraine? He’d had a few recently, although he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. Nothing major, just a bit of tingling for a few minutes. Painkillers, he thought, and went to find the sister in charge.
‘Got a migraine. Any pills you can give me?’
‘Sure. We’ll have to write them up. What do you want?’
He tried to think of the drug names, and couldn’t. ‘Something strong,’ he mumbled, and took them from her hand, his fingers shaking.
‘Andy, are you OK?’
‘I’m fine. Just tired and I’ve got a headache. I had that exam on Friday—I’ve been overdoing it.’
She looked at him sceptically, and he tried to smile, but it was all too much effort, so the moment he’d swallowed the pills he turned on his heel and walked back to Resus to see the woman.
Joan? Jane? He picked up the notes.
‘Jean. How are you feeling?’ he asked, but she didn’t answer.
‘I think she’s got a bleed,’ Kazia said softly, and he nodded.
‘Um—Neuro on the way?’
‘I’m here,’ a familiar voice said from behind him, and he sighed with relief. He didn’t need to deal with a junior, and nor did Jean.
‘Raj, hi. Um—this is Jean—er—Darby—Kazia, would you fill us in?’
‘Sure,’ the SHO said, shooting him a strange look and taking over. He didn’t mind. The words were escaping him, slithering away into the corners, hiding in the dark.
He propped himself against the Resus trolley and watched and listened as Raj ran through a quick neurological screen and then nodded.
‘She needs to go to Theatre, but it’s not looking good.’
It wasn’t. In fact, it was considerably less than good, and that moment her pupils blew and she arrested. They worked on her, Andy doing chest compressions, Raj checking her pulse
and haunting the monitor, but the odds were stacked hugely against her anyway, and after a few unsuccessful minutes Raj put his hands over
Andy’s and stopped him.
‘This is pointless. She’s gone, Andy.’
Damn. He straightened up and looked around, knowing he was right but gutted nonetheless. ‘All agreed?’ he asked, and everyone nodded.
He stared at the clock for an age, but he couldn’t seem to get the words out. ‘Time of death twelve thirty two,’ he said after a long pause, and he stripped off his gloves, threw them in the bin and turned to the neurologist.
‘Thanks, Raj. Sorry—waste of your time,’ he said, his voice hitching slightly as if they were reluctant to come out, and Raj frowned and tipped his head on one side, searching his eyes.
‘No problem. Got a minute?’
‘Yeah, sure. Are the family here yet?’
‘They’re on their way.’
‘OK. Find me when they’re here. I want to see them.’
‘Andy, now,’ Raj said softly, and taking his elbow he steered him out of Resus, and then stopped in a quiet bit of the corridor. ‘OK, what’s going on? You’re not yourself.’
‘Don’t know. I’ve got a migraine. Flashing lights, pins and needles—that sort of thing.’
‘History?’
He shook his head. ‘Not really. Bit. I’ve had a few in the last couple of months.’
‘Have you been drinking?’
He shook his head. ‘No. God, no. I’m just—tired.’
Raj took his hands. ‘Squeeze.’
He squeezed, but even he could feel that his right hand wasn’t working properly, and he felt his blood pressure kick up a notch as his heart started to pound. What the hell was wrong with him? The endless possibilities started spooling through his head, but he couldn’t make sense of them.
‘I think we need to take a proper look at you. Let’s find somewhere quiet.’
He took him to a room reserved for patients kept in under observation, and laid him down, prodding and poking and shining lights in his pupils, making him count fingers and follow things with his eyes.
‘What day is it?’
‘Sunday, and I shouldn’t be here, I should be with my kids.’
Raj smiled. ‘I know the feeling. What’s the time?’
> He stared at the clock. ‘Nearly ten past one.’
‘Come on, I want more than that.’
‘Thirteen oh eight,’ he said after a second.
‘Better. What do you give a child with anaphylaxis?’
‘Um—’ He swore, and looked away. ‘Sorry. I can’t...’
‘Don’t worry. Give me the words that go with these. Bread and...?’
‘Butter.’
‘Chalk and...?’
‘Cheese.’
‘What’s the opposite of up?’
‘Down.’
‘And the opposite of accept?’
‘Um—reject. Raj, what are you doing?’ he asked, a bit shortly because, dammit, for a fraction of a second the word had eluded him.
‘Trying to work out what’s wrong with you, because something is and I don’t think it’s just migraine. I could be wrong, but I want you to have a scan. Shall we call Lucy?’
He felt a finger of fear creep up his spine as things started to fall into place. The struggle he’d had answering the question paper—the words he’d known but not been able to find. The tiredness. The loss of motor control in his right hand. The paper he’d been going to use for his assignment, that he’d not been able to understand. And adrenaline. How could he not have remembered adrenaline for anaphylaxis? He knew that!
‘No. Don’t call her. She’s busy with the kids.’ Hell, he couldn’t even manage a simple opposites test without pausing to think, and the finger of fear turned into an icy hand clutching at his throat. ‘Um—I need to see the family of that woman.’
‘No, you don’t. Someone else can do it. Stay here. I’ll get someone to take you down to CT.’
‘No! I can—’ What? What could he do? Nothing, it seemed. He was so, so tired, but he got up anyway, and walked down to the scanner under his own steam. He wasn’t being pushed through his own hospital on a stretcher. Lucy would know about it before he was even in the scanner, but it seemed a hell of a long way there and he could have sworn it had moved.
He sagged back against the pillows and gave in as a fleet of people appeared and took over in the scanner room.
From Christmas to Eternity Page 4