by Sarah Morgan
He hugged her tightly, holding her easily in his arms. ‘Aggie, sweetheart, that’s enough now. Father Christmas doesn’t need to know all the details of our life.’
‘Father Christmas doesn’t dish out wives and mothers.’ Chloe cast a worried glance towards her father and reached forward to grab Aggie. ‘I’ll take her. Come on, you. We’ve finished here. We need to go home because Daddy needs to go back to work.’
They posed for the obligatory photograph and then Chloe led Aggie outside.
Lara didn’t move.
She didn’t know what to do or what to say. She felt as if she’d been eavesdropping on a private conversation. As though she’d witnessed something that she shouldn’t have witnessed.
She’d assumed he was happily married. Everyone had assumed the same thing. There had been no hints that his private life was in turmoil.
Was he separated or divorced?
What had gone wrong?
‘Daddy!’ Chloe burst back into the grotto, her blonde hair flying around her face, her tone urgent. ‘You have to come now! There’s a sick girl out here. She was in the queue and then she sort of dropped to the floor and now she’s sort of shaking! You have to come!’
CHAPTER THREE
A SICK girl?
Lara glanced at Christian but he was already moving towards the grotto entrance, his response as swift and decisive as it would have been in the emergency department. ‘Lara. Come with me. Chloe? Keep an eye on your sister.’
He strode out of the grotto towards the little crowd that had gathered, his black coat swirling around his legs as he walked.
‘Someone, help us! Help us!’White with terror, the mother was on her knees by the little girl, trying to lift the child as her little body jerked. ‘Olivia? Olivia?’ The little girl’s body jerked and convulsed beneath her hands and the mother started to sob and scream. ‘She’s having some sort of fit.’
‘Don’t hold her. Don’t try and restrain her or you might hurt her. I’m a doctor.’ Christian dropped to his haunches and put a hand on the mother’s shoulder. ‘Lara, can you get these people away from here? We don’t need an audience.’ His voice was sharp and Lara immediately moved everyone back and then dropped to her knees next to him.
‘Someone is calling an ambulance.’
‘I need something to put underneath her. This floor is hard.’ Christian checked the child’s airway and swiftly they manoeuvred her into the recovery position.
The store manager hurried up, clutching a soft blanket. ‘Is this any use?’
‘Perfect.’ He slid it under the child’s body.
‘She’s very hot. It must be a febrile convulsion. Being wrapped up in warm layers in this store and standing in the queue, overheating,’ Lara murmured, touching the child’s forehead and glancing at the mother. ‘Has she been ill?’
‘She’s had a runny nose but nothing too bad, and she was desperate to see Father Christmas. I thought it would distract her.’
‘You’re right about the warm layers, Lara. We need to try and take some of them off, or at least open them up.’ Christian slid the coat from the little girl and opened her cardigan.
‘It’s freezing outside.’ The mother bit her lip. ‘I didn’t want her to get cold. She kept shivering.’
‘She has a temperature,’ Lara said gently, ‘and it’s important that we cool her down. Little children aren’t able to control their temperature in the way that adults do. How old is she?’
‘Eleven months. I forgot to give her Calpol in the rush to leave the house.’
‘Was she drowsy before the seizure?’
‘No. Just a bit cross. That’s why I thought it would cheer her up to come here. I did the wrong thing. I’m an awful mother.’ The mother’s face scrunched up and she started to cry. Chloe stepped forward and put a hand on her arm.
‘I think you’re a lovely mother. What a treat to bring her here. We’ve just been and it was brilliant. Try not to worry.’ Her voice was warm and confident. ‘My dad’s a doctor and he’ll fix it. He’s very clever and he always knows what to do when people are ill. Why don’t you write her name and age down on a piece of paper because the paramedics will need that when they arrive.’
Lara stared, taken aback by the girl’s poise and maturity, but Christian didn’t seem surprised. Instead, he glanced across at his elder daughter. ‘Chloe—go down to the main entrance and wait for the ambulance. You can tell the paramedics where to come to. It will save time. Tell Aggie to sit still and not run off anywhere.’
‘OK, Dad.’ Chloe hurried off and Christian turned back to the child.
‘The fit has stopped. Has this ever happened before?’
The mother finished scribbling on a piece of paper and shook her head. ‘Never.’
‘I think the fit was caused by her high temperature. Given that it’s the first time she’s responded in that way, it’s best if we take her to hospital to check her over. You say that she’s had a cold. Anything else? Ear infection? Bad throat? Off her food?’
‘None of those things. She was a bit fractious yesterday and then last night her temperature went up. But she’s been talking about Father Christmas all week and I thought she’d be fine.’
‘Let’s strip her down to her vest and nappy,’ Christian glanced up as the paramedics arrived with Chloe. ‘Hi, there, Jack.’
‘Dr Blake.’ The paramedic flashed him a friendly smile and put his bag down on the floor next to them. ‘I thought you were at the hospital today. Sneaking off to see Father Christmas?’
‘You know me.’ Christian gave a wry smile. ‘Can’t keep away.’ Now that the convulsion had stopped, he quickly examined the little girl. ‘This looks like a febrile convulsion, Jack. We’ll take her in, just so that the paeds can check her over properly and keep an eye on her for a while.’
‘Right. That girl of yours told us what to expect. She’s a cracker is your Chloe.’
‘This child needs to go into the unit. I’ve got no equipment with me so I can’t examine her properly and, anyway, she’s better off in hospital if this is her first febrile convulsion. Lara, can you call Paeds and warn them?’ He pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket and handed it to her while the paramedic looked on in surprise.
‘Lara! I didn’t recognise you.’ His gaze was startled. ‘What—? I mean, why—?’
‘Don’t ask,’ Christian advised dryly, checking the child’s pulse rate again. ‘She’s coming round. She will be drowsy for a while,’ he warned the mother and she gave a nod.
‘Will they do loads of tests?’ Her voice was a whisper and she looked shocked and terrified as her little girl was lifted onto the trolley. ‘Could she have meningitis or something? You read about it all the time and it terrifies me.’
‘She isn’t showing any signs of meningitis but she’ll be checked properly by a paediatrician when she gets to the hospital.’
Lara spoke to the paediatrician at the hospital and then handed the phone back to Christian. ‘They’re expecting her.’
‘Good.’He rose to his feet and slipped the phone back into his pocket while Lara stood there, wanting to help but not knowing how best to do it.
‘I can go in the ambulance with her if you like. You need to get your girls home.’
‘You’d risk walking into the emergency department dressed like a fairy?You’d never live it down.’
Lara smiled. ‘It’s fine. If anyone teases me, I can just turn them into a frog with my wand.’
‘We’ll take it from here,’ Jack said cheerfully. ‘We’ll see you back at the hospital.’
The paramedics left with the sick child and the mother, and the crowd that had gathered around them gradually dispersed.
Lara glanced across the room towards his children. Chloe was holding onto Aggie’s hand. ‘You have wonderful children, Dr Blake.’
‘Yes.’ He looked at them for a moment and then stirred. ‘I need to get back to the department. You know how busy it is at the moment.’
r /> ‘Do you want me to come in to work? Take the girls home for you? There must be something I can do.’ She wanted to do something. Wanted to say something. But they were standing in a busy department store, surrounded by Christmas shoppers.
Christian’s expression was guarded. ‘I don’t need help,’ he said quietly, ‘and I can take care of my girls.’
‘I’m sure you can. But who takes care of you, Christian?’The words flew from her mouth before she could stop them and he lifted an eyebrow.
‘I think I’m probably old enough to take care of myself.’
She flushed. ‘Everyone needs to be loved. Oh, God, I’m starting to sound like my mother. I’m just saying that you need to be looked after, too. Not that I’m trying to suggest that I…’ Her colour deepened as she realised how her words had sounded. ‘I didn’t exactly mean that I—’
‘Staff Nurse King.’ His voice was soft and the expression in his eyes was remote and discouraging. ‘Take my advice and quit now before you say anything else that you don’t mean.’
She held his gaze and awareness flared between them. The atmosphere crackled with tension and this time she was unable to defuse it by telling herself that he was married. ‘I could help you. I’d like to help,’ she said impulsively, and he was silent for a long moment, as if he didn’t know quite how to respond to her offer.
Finally he drew breath. ‘I’ll pretend we didn’t just have this conversation.’ He stepped back from her. ‘And I’ll pretend that I didn’t see you dressed as a fairy. If the chief executive decides to bring his grandchildren to see Father Christmas, I advise you to use those wings of yours and fly off somewhere where he can’t see you. I’ll see you back in the emergency department.’
* * *
The weather grew suddenly cold and the next week was horribly busy.
A week after her encounter with Christian in the grotto, Lara was doing a dressing in the treatment room when Jane stuck her head round the door. ‘Christian wants you in Resus, Lara.’ She gave an apologetic smile. ‘Listen to me! If I had a pound for every time I utter that phrase, I could retire somewhere hot and spend my life lying under a palm tree. I pointed out that there are actually other nurses in this department but apparently you’re the sharpest. It’s going to be awful when you leave. The rest of us will have to wake up and do some work.’
Lara wasn’t listening. Instead, she was trying to produce a reasonable explanation for the fact that her hands were shaking at the mere mention of Christian’s name. The meeting in Santa’s grotto had changed their relationship. For her, at least. She no longer saw Christian Blake as the slightly intimidating senior consultant, remote and out of reach. Married. Instead, she saw him as a warm, caring father. An incredibly sexy, single man…
Oh, for crying out loud, what was the matter with her? It didn’t matter if he was single and sexy. She was going to Australia.
And that was why she was thinking about him, of course.
Because she wasn’t in a position to begin a relationship with anyone and you always wanted what you couldn’t have.
Feeling the familiar rush of excitement at the thought of her proposed trip, she rationalised her feelings by reminding herself that the unobtainable was always more alluring.
Lara finished with the patient, washed her hands and followed Jane out into the corridor.
‘So what have we got this time?’
‘Twenty-five-year-old female cyclist hit black ice and collided with a car. She’d just had the office Christmas lunch so I think there might have been some alcohol involved. The ambulance is due in five minutes. But Christian wants you in there. Apparently you’re the most efficient nurse he’s ever worked with.’ Jane shrugged. ‘All I can say is the guy must have worked with some real duds.’
Lara laughed. ‘Thanks, boss. You’re a real boost to my confidence.’
She followed Jane into Resus, confident that her mind was back on the job. One swift glance towards Christian told her that he was well and truly back in his role of consultant—driven, confident and decisive.
No problem. Everything was fine.
And then he looked at her.
He was in conversation with the radiologist but his gaze settled on Lara and for a brief moment their eyes held and something passed between them—a wordless communication that made her body flare hot with awareness.
Christian didn’t falter in his instructions to the radiologist but Lara felt her mind go blank and for a brief, terrifying moment she couldn’t concentrate on a thing. She saw his eyes darken slightly and knew that he felt it, too. And sensed that the unexpected chemistry somehow irritated him.
Aware that her knees and hands were shaking, she bit back a whimper of frustration and turned her back on him, forcing herself to cut the connection.
What was the matter with her?
It normally took her less than five minutes to start spotting all the things that were wrong with a man.
Why wasn’t she doing that with Christian?
She needed to concentrate harder. He probably had millions of flaws, it was just that she hadn’t been looking properly.
Gritting her teeth, she reached for the equipment that was mandatory for dealing with trauma patients. Swiftly she sorted out a gown, gloves and eye protection, all the time reminding herself that Christian Blake might be a hotshot in the resuscitation room, a fabulous father and indecently good-looking, but that didn’t mean that he was perfect.
The trauma team was assembling, each member occupied with preparing for the arrival of the patient.
Christian was prowling around the room, checking that everything was in place and that everyone understood their responsibilities. ‘Jane? Have you bleeped the trauma consultant?’
‘He’s on his way.’
The trauma registrar hurried into the room and then the doors to Resus flew open again and the paramedics surged into the room with the patient on a stretcher and ED staff alongside.
Everyone moved swiftly into position, carefully transferring the patient but maintaining silence while the paramedics described the mechanism of injury, the patient’s signs and what treatment had been given.
Christian’s gaze flickered to the whiteboard at the head of the trolley, which had already been covered in black, scrawling notes by the person who had taken the call from Ambulance Control.
Another doctor moved to the head of the trolley to clear and secure the airway and Lara reached for a pair of more robust gloves so that she could help remove the patient’s clothes.
How did Christian do it?
How did he hold down such a busy job and look after two lively daughters on his own?
But she knew the answer to that, of course, thanks to Aggie’s innocent declaration. He was living in a house with boxes still unpacked and he relied on nannies. He was doing the job and being a father to his children, but not much else.
By now the patient’s airway was secure, the clothes had been removed from the patient’s body and two peripheral lines were in place. The radiographer had moved the X-ray machine into position on the patient’s left side and someone pulled a unit of O-negative blood out of the warmer.
‘Chest and AP pelvis to start with,’ Christian ordered, ‘and then I want to do a FAST test. Her systolic pressure is less than 90 so she’s bleeding from somewhere. The question is whether it’s just the pelvis. Keep the pelvic splint in place and don’t move her around.’
Lara moved the machine closer to the trolley. ‘You don’t want to send her straight for a laparotomy and packing?’
‘I might still do that but I want to see the result of the FAST test first. She’s haemodynamically unstable so if it’s negative then she’s going straight to the angio suite for embolisation.’
He was examining the patient’s chest now, checking for signs of life-threatening thoracic conditions. ‘She has a seat-belt mark on her chest. But her lungs seem clear and there’s no evidence of tension pneumothorax or haemothorax.’
/> ‘You’re not going to spring the iliac crests?’ Penny, one of the casualty officers, asked the question and Lara frowned.
Christian glanced in her direction and gave a faint smile. ‘I think Staff Nurse King has the answer to that question.’
‘Her veins and arteries are trying to clot,’ Lara said immediately, wondering whether Penny ever bothered to read a textbook or a medical journal. Despite four months in the ED, she had yet to make much of a favourable impression. ‘If you spring the iliac crests, you risk disturbing the clot and increasing the bleeding.’
‘Lara is right.’ Christian dragged the ultrasound machine closer to the patient. ‘Protect the clot. No springing. No log-rolling. I don’t need to tell you how serious an unstable pelvic fracture can be.’
Lara’s eyes were on the machine. ‘Her blood pressure is dropping.’
‘Give her another unit of warmed blood through the rapid infuser.’ Christian was still checking the patient. ‘Are those blood results back yet? If we just pour fluid into her, she’ll have coagulation problems. Now, let’s have a look at her abdomen. I want to know if there’s any intraperitoneal bleeding. Jane, can you ring through to the angio suite and fill them in? I have a feeling we’re going to need their help and it takes them a while to set up.’
‘Will do.’ Jane hurried over to the phone and Lara stepped a little closer so that she could watch Christian do the FAST test.
He placed the transducer on the patient’s abdomen, just above the pubic bone, and studied the screen, a frown on his face. ‘Penny?You can’t see from over there—come closer. I’m looking for free intraperitoneal fluid—fluid collects in the pouch of Douglas and you can visualise that with the scan.’ He paused for a moment, staring at the screen with total concentration. ‘It’s negative but that doesn’t exclude intra-abdominal injury.’
The anaesthetist adjusted the oxygen flow and glanced at the monitor. ‘They don’t like having patients this unstable in the angio suite, Christian. It’s not a good place to resuscitate a patient.’