Accidental Rendezvous

by Caroline Anderson

  'I don't suppose you fancy joining me for a barbecue tonight, do you? I'm getting fed up with eating on my own, and it's such a lovely afternoon.'

  'What about your study leave?' she asked, reluctant to interfere with the progress of his career.

  'Oh, I can do something later. Flexi-hours, you know?'

  'I know,' she replied, thinking of how her housework and gardening tended to get flexed into sporadic bursts. She ought to be doing some washing tonight, but the idea of a barbecue with Nick was so tempting...

  'You don't have to stay late,' he coaxed, and she felt herself weakening.

  'Just so long as you do some of your study,' she bargained.

  He agreed. 'You can wash up, if you like,' he suggested. 'That will make it even fairer.'

  As Sally drove over there later, she thought that this friendship thing seemed to be working very well. She'd missed having him in her life, and this gave her his companionship without the threat of emotional trauma, because her heart wasn't going to be broken when their affair ended.

  Quite how she'd feel if there was another woman in his life was a bridge she'd cross if and when they ever reached it. She just hoped, for her sake, that it didn't happen. Certainly there seemed no sign of it at present.

  She arrived at five, just in time to help turn the kebabs and sausages on the barbecue and throw together a salad, and after a couple of hours of light-hearted banter and camaraderie, she left him and went home and tackled her washing.

  Yes, this friendship thing could work very well, she thought as she lay down and snuggled under the quilt, but when she woke in the night, it was to the lingering whisper of a dream, and her arms were so empty they ached...

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Nick was finding the friendship thing a nightmare. If he hadn't had such iron self-discipline he wouldn't have coped. As it was, he limped along, eaten alive by frustration and wondering if he was completely mad to have suggested it.

  In his heart, though, he knew he was right. He'd hurt Sally. He'd only just recently found out quite how much, and it tortured him. There was no way he could risk hurting her again, and; if that meant staying away from her, then he'd have to do that.

  Even if it meant altering the whole course of his career.

  He found Ryan in the staffroom, mourning over the dregs of the coffee, and he put another pot on to brew. While they were waiting, Ryan asked him how he was getting on.

  'Oh, fine. It's a good place to work.'

  'You and Sally seem to mesh.'

  His eyes seemed to see too much, and Nick turned his attention back to the coffee-machine. 'We do, don't we?' he said noncommittally. He decided to change the subject, fast. 'Is there a good florist round here? I need to buy some flowers for someone.'

  He missed the flicker of interest in Ryan's eyes, and there was no hint of it in the man's reply.

  'Just round the corner in the main entrance— they're excellent. They deliver, or you can pick up.

  It's a little independent local firm, and they've got a couple of branches in the town, too.'

  Nick nodded. 'Thanks. I'll pay them a visit. Coffee?'

  Ryan shrugged away from the wall and held out his mug. 'Thanks. So, have you given any more thought to my suggestion?'

  Nick poured the coffee and stalled his answer for a moment, then said, 'The jury's still out. Is that OK? How long have I got?'

  'A few more weeks? We'll be advertising in October.'

  It was the third week in August. Nick added milk to his coffee and retreated to the chairs. 'OK. I'll let you know in a week or two,' he said, and adroitly changed the subject.

  'How's your grandmother?'

  Sophie looked up from the trolley she was laying and smiled wearily at Sally. 'Oh, OK. The community nurse is going in three times a day, and I'm staying there at night now.'

  'Don't get overtired,' Sally warned. 'That's your boss speaking now. You need to be alert to do your job, and I can't let you continue if I think you're too tired to do it properly, so be careful.'

  It was a gentle warning, but meant. Sally knew only too well how easy it was to get overtired. She was finding sleep elusive, and it did make it harder to concentrate and keep a clear head.

  Later that day they had an emergency admission, an elderly lady who had collapsed in the street. She was suffering from mild chest pain, but her breathing was poor and Sally put her on oxygen before fetching Nick to see her.

  Sophie was with her, and together they made her more comfortable, loosening her clothing and removing her blouse and a ridiculously tight and heavily upholstered long-line bra which was almost cutting off her circulation.

  'Oh, that's better,' she gasped, panting as she relaxed against the backrest. 'Oh, what a relief!'

  'I should think so, it's a ghastly instrument of torture,' Sally told her with a smile, slipping her arms into a little modesty top and covering her with a blanket. 'I'll just set up the ECG machine so we can get a look at your ticker—ah, here's Dr Baker.'

  Nick took the lady's hand and smiled down at her, and Sally thought it was a wonder she didn't just die of heart failure on the spot. Instead, she smiled back.

  'Right, tell me all about it. When did this start?'

  'I was shopping,' she said, and paused for breath. 'I had a pain. I sat down for a bit. It didn't get better, so I spoke to the staff—they said they'd call an ambulance. It was better by the time they came, though.'

  'Where is the pain?' he asked, and she pointed to the centre of her chest, and then moved her hand over her left shoulder and down her arm.

  'Sort of all over, really. I can feel it—oh, it's coming back again. Oh, no.'

  She pressed a hand to the centre of her chest and her face creased in pain. 'Oh, Doctor, it's worse. Oh, it hurts!'

  'Can we get these leads on?' Nick snapped, and within seconds she was linked up to the monitor and he was frowning at the screen. The trace was changing as they watched, Q-waves forming, indicating an MI.

  'OK, my darling, I think you're having a bit of a heart attack,' Nick explained gently. 'Don't worry, we'll give you something to make you more comfortable. Sally, let's have 5 mg diamorphine with 12.5 mg Stemetil IV, stat.'

  Sophie handed him a cannula and he had the line in and taped down by the time Sally had the drugs drawn up. The woman's relief was gradual but definite, and Sally noticed that Sophie was doing a wonderful job of soothing her. She was stroking her head, helping her by holding the oxygen mask just off her face because the pressure was upsetting her, and by the time the diamorphine had been slowly delivered, she was a little calmer.

  She looked awful, though, clammy and grey, and there was a bluish tinge around her lips. Nick obviously agreed. 'Right, she needs to go straight up to CCU.'

  But their patient wasn't waiting for the coronary care unit. Without any further warning, her heart stopped.

  'Damn,' Nick muttered, and flicked the backrest out from behind her, dropping her flat, while Sally kicked the brakes off the trolley.

  'Resus One,' Nick snapped, and they rushed her into the emergency treatment room and commenced CPR, while Sophie stood helplessly in the background.

  'Let's shock her. Stand back.'

  The woman arched and flopped, and Nick shook his head as he studied the monitor. 'Nothing. Let's turn it up.'

  Still there was no response.

  'I need atrophine and adrenaline,' Nick said, and fired off a list of instructions at Sophie, who was looking stunned.

  Sally rescued her. 'I'll do it. Sophie, take over here. Squeeze the bag once every five compressions.'

  She drew up the drugs and handed the tray with the syringe in to Nick, but Sophie turned and bumped into the tray, nearly knocking it out of Sally's hand.

  'Oh—sorry!' she said, and Nick shot her a black look.

  'It's all right, Sophie, no harm done,' Sally murmured reassuringly, and sent Nick a black look of her own that he didn't see.

  Sophie, shaken and upset, had returned to
her ambu-bag and was religiously counting to five and then squeezing.

  The next ten minutes were hectic and futile, and finally Nick gave a heavy sigh. He straightened up and looked at Sally. 'Why are we doing this?' he said softly.

  She gave him an understanding smile. 'Because you can't give up until you've given it everything you've got?'

  He dropped his head forwards and shut his eyes, then peeled the tape off the giving set and took the cannula out of her arm. 'Poor old girl. We didn't even know her name.'

  'Ethel,' Sophie said quietly. 'She was Ethel.'

  And she burst into tears.

  'Give me a minute,' Sally murmured, and she steered Sophie out of Resus and down to the privacy of her office.

  'Bit close to home, was it?' she said sympathetically, and Sophie hiccuped and nodded.

  'She was just like my grandma,' she said, sobbing again. 'It was awful.'

  'I know.' Sally hugged her and rubbed Sophie's shoulders soothingly until she'd got herself back under control, then she took her into the staffroom and plied her with coffee. 'You'll be all right. Take a few minutes off, OK?'

  She nodded, and Sally left her and went back to Resus, where Nick was tidying up Ethel.

  'How is she?' he asked, and Sally shrugged.

  'Upset. Ethel reminded her of her grandmother.'

  He paused and pulled a face. 'Oh, dear. When did she die?'

  'She didn't, but she's probably just about to,' Sally told him. 'You were a bit hard on her, Nick.'

  'I didn't say a word!'

  'You didn't need to. That look was enough, but I don't think she saw it.'

  'Whatever, she's clumsy and incompetent.'

  'No, she's learning. There's a difference. Anyway, she was upset.'

  'Life's a bitch, you have to get used to it,' he murmured, just as Meg popped her head round the door.

  'There's a lady here looking for her mother—Ethel Bailey? Said she collapsed in the street. Is she your patient?' She glanced at the body lying on the trolley, and her mouth formed an O. 'I'll put her in the relatives' room, shall I, with a cup of tea?'

  'I'll come,' Nick said, and looked at Sally.

  'Can you finish getting her ready?'

  She nodded, and while he went and told Ethel's daughter the news, Sally combed her hair and eased the lines of stress from Ethel's face, so that when the daughter saw her she looked at peace.

  Sophie should have been here, she thought, instead of being left with the memory of the resuscitation attempts. As soon as she was able to get away, she went down to the staffroom, but she'd gone.

  'She's in cubicle three with a patient,' Meg told her.

  'Is she all right?'

  'Seems fine. She's doing a dressing for Nick.'

  'I'll go and see her,' Sally said,' and slipped through the curtain. It was the wrong thing to do, because Sophie turned towards her and her apron caught the edge of the paper towel that the equipment was laid out on and sent some of the things flying.

  With a startled exclamation she bent down and picked up the fallen swabs and little trays, and to Sally's dismay she put them back on the trolley in amongst the sterile equipment.

  'No!' Sally warned, but Nick was quicker.

  He muttered an oath under his breath and pointed at the curtain. 'Out,' he said firmly. 'If you don't understand the basic principles of asepsis, you don't work with me. I can't have that kind of clumsiness and stupidity near my patients. Sister Clarke, take over, please.'

  Sophie, aghast, sent Sally an agonised look before running from the cubicle in tears, and without a word Sally stepped up beside Nick, cleared away the contaminated dressing pack and opened another, conscious of his scrutiny.

  Let him watch, she thought furiously. There was nothing wrong with her aseptic technique, it was probably better than his. She snapped the gloves on, turned to the patient and dredged up a smile. 'Hi, there,' she said cheerfully. "This shouldn't hurt, but it might be cold.'

  She cleaned the wound, a nasty scrape up the front of his shin, stood back so Nick could examine it, and then, after he was satisfied that it was clean, she dressed it while he watched her every move.

  'There. Better?' she asked the patient, and he nodded.

  Nick gave him instructions for follow-up and a prescription for antibiotics, and sent him on his way.

  'Right, what's next?' he said.

  Sally shut the door behind their patient and turned to Nick, finally letting her temper show. 'How dare you criticise one of my nurses in front of a patient?' she said, her voice deadly quiet.

  He looked stunned for a second, but he bounced back fast enough. 'Oh, come on, Sal, she was out of order! All that stuff was contaminated—'

  'Very likely, and I was dealing with it!' she snapped. 'Anyway, you were unnecessarily harsh to her. You know quite well she's still upset about Ethel and her grandmother, you could have been more gentle.'

  'That's beside the point. She was about to make a serious mistake,' he cut in, but she glared at him and went on.

  'It's all beside the point. What we're talking about here is you exceeding your authority. Quite apart from the fact that I was there and able to sort it out myself, you never—ever—do that in front of a patient! If you have a problem with one of my nurses, you tell me—not her. And if I'm not around and you feel it's a serious matter, you quietly and discreetly send the nurse out to find another one to take over, and then you inform me. You do not tell her off in front of the patients! Is that understood?'

  'Oh, Sally, I hardly told her off—'

  'You sent her out, quite clearly in disgrace! You can't do that!'

  Nick sighed harshly and rammed a hand through his hair. 'You really are being ridiculous—!'

  'Don't call me ridiculous! Don't you dare call me ridiculous! What she did wasn't a patch on the howler your precious Toby was about to make. How would you have felt if I'd been the one to find him and I'd spoken to him like that?'

  'It was totally different!'

  'Yes—and about ten orders of magnitude more significant! At the worst this might have resulted in a minor infection. Toby's error would have been fatal, and you know it.'

  'Oh, come on, Sally,' he reasoned. 'A mistake's a mistake, we all make them.'

  'So Toby just gets a quiet word in his ear because you're all chaps together, but you can flay Sophie to shreds because she's only a little nurse? Well, tough, Nick. She's my little nurse, she's a good nurse, and she's my responsibility. If she needs reprimanding— which I will decide—then I'll do it, not you. I want an apology, and I want it now. Go and find her and say sorry—graciously!'

  'Like hell,' he gritted under his breath. 'She was a hazard to that patient's health--'

  'And you were out of line. Either you find her and apologise or I go to Ryan about this. Is that clear? And if Toby makes a single tiny error, I'll take that to Ryan, too, only, unlike you, I won't do it in front of the patients!'

  She yanked back the curtain and stalked out, and the staff in the corridor melted out of her way.

  'Uh-oh,' someone murmured as she strode past, but apart from that there was silence. Fine. She didn't want to talk to anyone anyway—and most particularly not Nick!

  She found Sophie sobbing in the staffroom, mopped her up and took her through to her office, sitting her down for a chat.

  'Right. Talk to me, Sophie.'

  'I just wasn't concentrating,' she wept. 'I was still thinking about Ethel, and my grandma. I didn't think—I just picked them up. I'm sorry. It won't happen again.'

  'I'm sure it won't,' she soothed. 'I'm not worried about it, anyway. I know your aseptic technique is fine. What I'm much more worried about is you, and how you're coping with your grandmother. You're looking tired, and it can't go on. It isn't fair on the rest of us if you're running at fifty per cent. We need a full complement up and running to keep this department on its toes, and if you aren't concentrating, you aren't an asset, are you?'

  Sophie shook her head miserably
.

  'Is there anyone else who could be there with your grandmother at night?' Sally suggested.

  'Mum? She says I'm better, though, because I'm a nurse, but I'm so tired. She keeps calling me all night.'

  'Which means you aren't sleeping,' Sally finished for her. 'Sophie, you've got to talk to your mother. I'm sure they don't want you getting into trouble and making mistakes because you're exhausted, do they?'

  She shook her head, and Sally stood up. 'Right. I'm going back to work. I want you with me for the rest of the day, and then you can sort this out when you get home. I want the situation resolved by the end of the week, or you're going to have to take some time off for unpaid leave until it's sorted. OK?'

  Sophie nodded, then looked worriedly at the door. 'What about Dr Baker?'

  Sally felt her jaw clench, and consciously relaxed it. 'What about Dr Baker? I've dealt with him,' she said crisply, and opened the door to find Nick there, his hand poised to knock.

  She gave him an icy look. 'Perfect timing. I'll leave you two together.'

  He looked startled and uncomfortable, and Sally was conscious of Sophie panicking behind her, but it was tough. They were both adults, let them deal with it. She walked out, shut the door firmly and left them to it.

  'I gather you and Nick had a humdinger earlier,' Ryan said quietly in a moment of sanity later in the day.

  'Is that right?' she replied, totally noncommittal.

  'So a little bird tells me.'

  'The birds round here talk far too much,' she muttered.

  Ryan chuckled slightly and cocked his head on one side, studying her thoughtfully. 'Are you OK?'

  'I'm fine. I expect he'll live, as well.'

  'Ouch.'

  She met Ryan's laughing eyes and smiled reluctantly. 'It's OK, Ryan, it's under control. He criticised a nurse.'

  'Fatal mistake.'

  'Absolutely. He won't do it again. How're Ginny and the kids?'

  'Fine.' He smiled knowingly and let her get away with the switch of subject, to her relief. She knew Nick had apologised to Sophie, and as far as she was concerned the subject was now closed.