by Liz Lawler
When Patrick raised his glass to her, she saw his eyes caress her, and for the first time since that awful night she looked forward to going to bed with him.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ she whispered.
He raised an eyebrow, appearing to give careful consideration. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Wedding cake, confetti, the “I do” bit – pretty heady stuff when you consider it.’ He wiggled an eyebrow. ‘Not so sure about the meringue-style wedding dress.’
‘Shush,’ Alex laughed. ‘She looks lovely.’
‘I just can’t help wonder,’ he said, inching closer, his lips grazing her ear, his breath caressing her neck, ‘if she has a toilet roll underneath it.’
She laughed out loud and held his gaze until she saw a slight flush rise in his cheekbones. The day had been wonderful. A turning point. A pause on all that had gone before. She would not forget, but she could at least carry on.
Chapter thirteen
A multiple pile-up, involving five cars and a coachload of OAPs heading back from a weekend trip to London, had happened at junction 18 on the M4.
In the staff changing room Alex gargled with a strong mouthwash and then blew into her cupped hands to smell her breath. The minty smell reassured her she was OK, but as an added precaution she unwrapped a Wrigley’s spearmint gum.
How could she forget she was on call, she berated herself yet again. Fortunately, she’d stopped drinking long before the wedding ended and had in fact limited her intake throughout the long day, not wanting to get drunk. What she couldn’t rule out, without a blood test or Breathalyser, was whether she was over the limit. The irony was not lost on her: that for the first time she wasn’t drinking out of a need to forget, and she was brought back down to earth with a bump. Such an idiot. So stupid to forget something as important as the fact she had a job to do.
She’d dismissed the thought of ringing round to see if someone else could take over her on-call, not wanting to give any further reason to anyone to shred her reputation even more.
Well, this was her wake-up call. In some ways she was lucky it had happened. She had come very close to the brink with her drinking. She was aware that the man behind the counter in her local off-licence was getting to know her too well. Well, no more. She no longer needed to escape her fear.
Fixing a smile on her face, she stepped out into mayhem. The thirty-minute warning before the arrival of the first casualty had long passed, and injured people could be seen queuing down the length and breadth of the corridor. There was a rush of activity everywhere she looked, and Alex finally relaxed. This was her job; it was what she did best.
It was going well. Even as she struggled with exhaustion, she was pleased with how things were progressing.
In resus all of the bays were occupied. All of the monitors were beeping and sounding alarms. Rubbish bins were overflowing and discarded equipment cluttered around them. On the work counters, rigid-plastic yellow containers for the disposal of needles were filled to the brim, and used syringes lay abandoned and doctors fought for small spaces to write their notes. A mop and a bucket rested against a wall; there were too many spillages to keep calling in the cleaners. It was quicker for the nearest person to clean up the blood, as the last thing they needed when the place was this busy was a wet floor.
The remaining patients waiting to be seen, although needing urgent attention, were at least more stable than the ones before them. Not counting the walking wounded, so far seven critical and twelve serious cases had been dealt with.
The trauma team was divided up between the patients, and extra doctors and nurses were in attendance to deal with all the injuries. Caroline was in control as always, but Alex saw the sweat stains under her arms, hinting that even she was finding the pace difficult. Maggie Fielding had been called in to attend one of the female patients, and over the cacophony of the horrendous noise of crying and shouting, alarms giving off urgent warning sounds, phones ringing and machinery moving, Alex heard her comfort an injured woman and was surprised at how tender Maggie could be.
The patient in bay 4 was staring at Alex with fear in his eyes, his grip on her wrist desperate. ‘You’re not going to let me die are you, Doc?’
She freed her hand from his and smiled reassuringly, then made a second attempt to get a cannula into his old veins. ‘You’re going to be fine, George. Just give me a second to get this thing in and then I can give you the medicine. In next to no time your heart will be beating normally.’
‘It feels like it’s gonna explode if it goes any faster.’
‘You just stay nice and calm and breathe in that oxygen – leave the rest to me.’
The old man was not one of the casualties brought in from the pile-up. He’d been brought in from home and needed to be in resus urgently.
‘Damn,’ she whispered, and then smiled at him again. ‘Your veins don’t want to come out to play.’ Scooting round to the other side of the trolley, Alex snapped her tourniquet onto his other arm. She let his hand dangle down over the side of the trolley and went down on one knee. She gave a few taps to a vein in his forearm and was rewarded by the sight of it swelling with blood.
Fiona appeared at her side. ‘Need any help?’ she asked.
Alex felt the gesture to be genuine. The warm smile of welcome Fiona gave her at the beginning of their shift conveyed an unspoken apology. The judgement in her eyes had gone and Alex was grateful.
‘You can fetch the adenosine for me. There’s no room over here to put anything. It’s labelled and drawn up by the drugs cupboard.’
George smiled at them. ‘I’m always a nuisance. They can never get the blighters in. I reckon the veins shrivel up at the sight of your needles.’
While Alex got the cannula in, Fiona went to fetch the drug. A moment later she returned. ‘Can I have a quick word?’
Alex followed her over to the drug cupboard and Fiona held up an empty ampoule. ‘Is this what you got ready?’
Alex stared at it in confusion. The label she had written on was on the syringe. George Bartlett’s name was on the label. But this was not the ampoule she had used. If she had given him this drug, George would now be dead. Adrenaline 1:1000 would have caused his already dangerously fast heart to beat even faster.
She stuttered. ‘I . . . I don’t understand. I didn’t get this out. I promise you that. Someone else must have put it there. There’s no way I would give him this. No way in a million years.’
Fiona bit her lower lip, her eyes fixed on Alex. ‘It was the only ampoule here, Alex. It was right beside the syringe – on this injection tray.’ She put the ampoule back on the tray and picked up the syringe.
Alex frantically searched the counter, refusing to accept she could have made such a mistake. The empty ampoule of adenosine had to be around here somewhere. It had to be. She had held it in her hand. She had read the label clearly. She had not made a mistake.
‘Someone’s binned it,’ she cried. ‘And dropped this ampoule on my injection tray by accident. Check with the other doctors. I’ll bet you one of them has used adrenaline in the last five minutes.’
Fiona’s eyes glinted with anguish, and Alex felt her chest thump as she became aware that Fiona genuinely believed she had made this terrible error. And then she shuddered when she realised how easily the error could have escalated into a catastrophe.
‘Go and have a cup of tea, Alex. I’ll get Nathan in here to deal with it. I’ll tell him you’re taking five minutes.’
Alex felt a heaviness pressing behind her eyes and knew tears were imminent. ‘No, I can’t do that. I need to deal with it.’
‘Everything all right, Dr Taylor?’ asked Maggie Fielding. ‘Do you mind if I get into the medicine cupboard?’
Alex stepped aside to make room. ‘Everything’s fine. I, um, I don’t suppose you’ve just drawn up any adrenaline, have you?’
Maggie shook her head. ‘No. but I do need some pain relief for my patient.’ She stopped searching the contents of the cupboard as
the two beside her stayed silent. Her glance took in their stillness. ‘Are you sure everything’s OK? Who am I supposed to have drawn up adrenaline for?’
‘No one,’ Fiona quickly answered.
‘What’s going on, Alex?’ Caroline suddenly barked from behind them. ‘What’s happening with Mr Bartlett? Why haven’t you sorted him out?’
Fiona turned to the drug cupboard and pulled out the adenosine to show to the consultant. ‘We’re just drawing this up,’ she said.
Caroline picked up the injection tray with George Bartlett’s name written on it and the empty ampoule. ‘What’s this, then?’ Then she spied the labelled syringe clutched in Fiona’s hand. ‘Give me that,’ she said in a tone that conveyed she was aware something was wrong.
Fiona stared at the ground as she handed it over.
From ingrained practice, the consultant automatically checked the ampoule. ‘What—’
‘He’s not had it. This isn’t for him,’ Fiona quickly interjected.
‘Really!’ Caroline replied sarcastically, and her disbelief punctuated her next words: ‘It’s got his name on it! So clearly he was going to get it!’
Alex chose the wrong moment to let out a shaky breath and saw shock fill Caroline’s eyes. Alex knew she could smell the alcohol. She stared at Alex in disbelief before fixing on the syringe she now held in her hand. Finally Caroline raised her eyes again and the disdain Alex saw withered her to the core. Alex wanted to cry; she desperately wanted to explain that this wasn’t her fault. But the disgust in Caroline’s eyes told her that she would be wasting her time.
‘Leave the department,’ Caroline Cowan quietly ordered.
Alex was so shocked she could hardly speak. ‘I . . . I . . .’
‘Hey, there’s no need for that!’ Maggie Fielding interrupted in her most autocratic consultant’s voice. ‘There are two of them here, Dr Cowan. Don’t you think you should get the facts before you start accusing one of your staff? You haven’t even asked who’s at fault yet. You’ve just assumed Dr Taylor has made the error.’ Her eyes fixed on Fiona. ‘Did Dr Taylor ask you to draw up a drug?’
‘No!’ Fiona snapped. ‘She asked me to fetch a drug.’
A thin smile curved Maggie’s lips, her tone offhand. ‘Same thing.’
Fiona’s eyes blazed and her chin tilted indignantly. ‘No! Not the same thing!’
Throughout the exchange Caroline didn’t say a word. Her eyes remained steadily fixed on Alex and then she repeated the order:
‘Leave now, before I have security escort you.’
Tears stung Alex’s eyes as she shook her head.
Caroline’s voice was flat, but her eyes glittered with fury.
‘I will talk to you later, Dr Taylor. Please don’t make it any more difficult than it is already. I want you to leave the department immediately.’
Alex felt dozens of eyes follow her, as, on trembling legs, she moved to the exit, but she knew this was just in her imagination. Everyone else was too busy to even notice that her world had just fallen apart.
Chapter fourteen
If disappointment could occupy a physical space, then Caroline’s office would be fit to be bursting. Her disappointment was palpable. She was polite and civil, but there was no warmth in her tone as she laid bare Alex’s crime.
‘To say I’m disappointed is an understatement. I’ve called this meeting to give you a chance to explain your behaviour before I make a decision on whether to make this formal. As you see I haven’t involved HR at this stage; this is an opportunity for you and me to have a frank exchange. If you’re in agreement, that is? Do you understand, Dr Taylor?’
Alex swallowed hard and nodded. ‘Yes, and thank you for not making it formal.’
‘Well that still remains to be seen. So, please explain yourself.’
‘I forgot I was on call,’ she answered in a small voice.
Caroline stared at her, appalled. ‘Forgot? You forgot! That’s your excuse?’
‘I genuinely forgot,’ Alex said earnestly. ‘It was my sister’s wedding on Saturday and it slipped my mind that I was on call.’
Caroline leaned forward in her chair, her expression stern. ‘Well that, Alex, tells me you clearly haven’t got your mind on the job. While I understand that this has been a trying time for you, you should have taken more time off to get yourself completely better.’
Alex bridled. ‘Better from what?’
‘Better from whatever is going on! Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you realise how worried I am about you?’
Alex felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She loved Caroline and respected her more than any other doctor she knew. She didn’t want this woman to lose faith in her.
‘I’m sorry that I let you down. Yesterday was unforgivable. I know you’ve lost trust in me, but I truly believe I was capable of carrying out my job.’
‘And that, Alex, is exactly why I’ve lost trust. What you’re saying is what every drink driver says after causing an accident: “I thought I was safe to drive.” You stupid girl, you’re mucking up your life with this nonsense. I want you to be on my team, Alex. I have high hopes for your future. I expect to see you become a consultant here some day, but if you continue like this you’re going to ruin it all. You had a bad time last year, and these last few weeks have shown that you haven’t recovered from it. Go and see someone and get it properly sorted out. I won’t make this formal, but I will have to monitor your behaviour.’
Unchecked, the tears dripped down Alex’s cheeks and she quickly brushed them away. Caroline had just revealed that she didn’t believe Alex had been abducted, that what happened a month ago was in her mind, imagined because of the ‘bad time’ Alex had suffered last year.
‘Look, take some more time. Go and spend some more time with that handsome boyfriend of yours. He’s worried, Alex. He’s worried about your drinking.’ She smiled to take the sting out of her next words. ‘Said you hit the bottle pretty hard while you were away.’ She relaxed back in her chair, the sternness now gone from her expression. ‘Think about what I’ve said. Think about your future.’
In her car Alex shook with humiliation. How dare he? How dare he talk behind her back? He had betrayed her. All the hugs and reassurance counted for nothing when he could do this to her. Why didn’t he say it to her face? Tell her he was worried. Talk to her about the goddam situation. He was carrying on as if nothing had happened; was it any wonder she was drinking? And when had he had this conversation with Caroline? When had they got so pally that he thought he had that right? Of all the things he could have said, nothing could have been worse than telling her boss she was a drunk.
She picked up her mobile and stabbed the screen till she found his number, and as soon as she heard his voice she shouted, ‘Traitor!’
His first words stunned her. ‘Caroline had a right to know.’
‘To know! You nearly destroyed my career. I’m lucky I’m not suspended!’
‘You’re lucky that a patient didn’t die on you,’ he said bluntly.
‘It wasn’t my fault, Patrick. I didn’t cause that drug error.’
‘And unfortunately, Alex, you can’t prove it. No one’s going to take your word if they think you’ve been drinking.’ His voice was bleak and the anger drained from Alex. She had no more fight in her.
‘Are you OK?’ he now asked.
She sat silent, unable to reply.
‘I love you,’ he offered.
‘But do you still believe me?’ she whispered. She heard his sigh and snapped, ‘Just tell me!’
‘The more I think about it, the more I’m inclined to believe that this was a hallucination, the knock on your head playing havoc with your mind. The police have found no trace of this man, Alex.’
She had nothing to say.
‘Are you there, darling? Talk to me. You’re not yourself at the moment.’
‘Do you remember what I told you about when I woke up on that operating table,’ she asked.
<
br /> ‘Yes, but—’
‘I told you I was blinded by theatre lights.’
‘For God’s sake, Alex.’ His tone was sharp. ‘That could have been from me and the security guard. We had torches in our hands. We were shining them into your face.’
‘So you no longer believe me,’ she stated.
‘I didn’t say that,’ he said softly back.
She pressed the end button and he didn’t hear her reply.
‘Yes, you did,’ she whispered bitterly.
*
Going to the doctors’ party was Fiona’s idea.
A bad one, as far as Alex was concerned, but she would go, if only to give Fiona a good night out. She had learned long ago that Fiona had very little else going on in her life outside work and aside from their friendship, and Alex was aware she had paid little attention to her friend these last weeks.
On the last Thursday of every month the doctors’ party was held in a different venue, either in the city or on site. Tonight it was being held in the grounds of the hospital, in the social club. The building was sited near the doctors’ quarters and meant only a short walk before they reached their beds to sleep off the large quantities of alcohol they usually consumed. When Alex moved back to Bath she had lived in the doctors’ quarters until circumstances drove her to search for somewhere more secure to live. She drove to the party with every intention of not drinking.
Fiona clearly intended to fully enjoy herself. Her hair was loose and in its usual form: frizzy and framing her face. She wore slim-fit black jeans and a green silky blouse, to which she’d pinned a novelty flashing Santa Claus broach. Alex stood outside with her as she smoked, her Nicorette patch peeled off her shoulder and stuck to the outside of her cigarette packet. Alex shook her head, bemused, when Fiona returned the sticky patch to her shoulder after stubbing out the cigarette.
‘You’ll increase your nicotine levels if you keep doing that,’ she admonished.
‘Oh shut up, Dr Know-it-all,’ Fiona laughed. ‘You only live once, and I’ve had a bloody hard day. We’re young and one of us is free and single, so let’s get this party started. You,’ she said, her expression mock serious and her speech beginning to slur, ‘need to lighten up. You, more than most, need to start having some fun. You’re gorgeous, you cow, and can have your pick. You . . .’ She saw the stricken look Alex gave her. ‘Oh bugger, you know I didn’t mean . . . Oh look, let’s fucking forget about men full stop and just get in there and have a blast. Above all, let’s get pissed.’