by Amy Andrews
‘I’m sure we’re both mature enough to put our differences aside for a night. Right?’
Did he think she wouldn’t be able to? ‘I can if you can,’ she said testily.
‘Good. Well, I’ll see you tonight. Shall we go together or take two cars?’
Sophie paused. It made perfect sense to take just one car. They were both going to the same place and had to be there at the same time. But something held her back. At least if she had her own car she could escape if she needed to. Why she would need to escape she wasn’t quite sure, but car-pooling seemed a little intimate. They had to share the ambulance—there was no choice in that matter. But she did have a choice over this and the idea of having space from him appealed to her.
‘Let’s each get there under our own steam.’
He looked at her wordlessly and nodded his head. If that was what she wanted, so be it. He didn’t want to think about it any more than he had to.
She turned to go.
‘You’re still wearing my gown.’
Sophie’s heart slammed hard in her chest as her hand stilled on the doorframe. His gown. She blushed as she remembered the times she had spent with him in and out of the red floor-length gown. ‘This old thing?’ she said, keeping her voice deliberately light. ‘I’ve had it for ages.’
‘I know,’ he said, his blue eyes boring into hers. ‘I bought it for you. Don’t you remember?’
She laughed, forcing the shaky note from her voice. ‘Really? Goodness, I’d forgotten all about that.’
‘Your twenty-first birthday present.’
She shook her head and smiled at him blankly.
‘You put it on for me after the party and we made love with you still wearing it.’ He couldn’t believe she could have forgotten it. The gown, or what had happened later.
Sophie swallowed as she remembered the magical night. The night they had made love for the first time. It was one of her most treasured memories. She could only hope that if she ever got dementia, like poor Mrs Schmidt, it would be a memory that she could hold onto for ever. But for now it was better to play dumb. To pretend that the events of that night were so distant she could barely recall them.
‘I think dredging up the past is kind of pointless. A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then. I’ll see you at seven o’clock.’
She turned on her heel and walked out of the room on very shaky legs. He had recognised the gown. She hadn’t even realised its significance when she’d thrown it on but, then, she hadn’t expected to be talking to Daniel in it either. He had been really pushing her to recall the memories. Why? What was the point? Nothing would change the past and, as they had both categorically stated, they were over each other.
Daniel brooded over the past as he checked his watch and absently stirred his coffee. She’d be here any minute. He tried to be calm about it and sucked in a breath to dispel the disappointment he felt over her vagueness that morning.
Surely she hadn’t really forgotten that he had given her the gown and the times he had pulled the belt to reveal her naked body beneath it? She had to be lying. Or had their time together come to mean so little? Had he hurt her that badly by rejecting her love four years ago that she had erased the memories from her mind for ever?
Such thoughts were going to get him nowhere but crazy! He must at all costs think of her and treat her as just another nurse riding along for the shift. Just another nurse.
Not as Sophie, his Sophie, Sophie of the dragon gown, Sophie his first and only love. But Sophie his sister-in-law. Sophie whose pinched and distraught face at Michael’s funeral had haunted him. Sophie who had broken down as he had presented the eulogy, her sobs chilling him to the core. Because that Sophie was out of bounds!
Sophie drove to the inner-city ambulance station with some apprehension. How was she going to spend the next twelve hours in Daniel’s company? The thought of awkward silences and loaded conversations was too awful to contemplate. She had the feeling that something was about to give and it was going to be ugly.
Maybe a pre-emptive strike was called for? Sure, they had talked about the incident after Michael’s funeral but had steadfastly ignored all their other history. And they had history to burn! Lots of highs and some pretty awful lows.
She had spent a lot of the last four years being angry with him. And where had it got her? On a ride-along, that’s where. So maybe it was time to let bygones be bygones. Be the bigger person, acknowledge the past and move on.
They didn’t have to spend hours pulling everything to pieces, psychoanalysing every word, every action. They could just admit that the past was part of their lives so they could get on with their futures.
She came to a decision as she parked the car and shut her door firmly. She would talk to him about it. First thing. Clear the air. Agree to start anew, whether they liked it or not!
Once inside the building she pushed open the door that said INTENSIVE CARE PARAMEDIC SERVICES. It opened quietly and she spied Daniel immediately. He was standing in the small kitchen area, seemingly engrossed in the contents of the mug he was stirring. He didn’t hear her enter.
She took a moment to study him. His navy blue overalls fitted him snugly from the back. He was tall and lean. Taller than Michael even, who had been six feet. His uniform only hinted at the attributes she had witnessed that morning as he had played with Max. Broad shoulders, firm back sloping to a narrower waist.
His short back and sides hairstyle suited him. It looked spiky but she knew from experience it was actually soft and quite fine. The longer hair on top fell in soft layers and was peppered with grey highlights, brushing his forehead in a shortish fringe. He was as sexy as—there was no denying it.
‘Are you trying to read your tealeaves?’
And then he turned around and smiled at her, holding her gaze easily. His eyes crinkled at the corners and Sophie was drawn to the grey at his temples. The smile tipped her off balance. She hadn’t expected it after that morning’s conversation. It seemed as unfettered as his smiles of old.
‘Come in,’ he said, breaking eye contact. ‘I’ll show you around.’
She walked towards him and he braced himself for the impact of her nearness. Her perfume floated his way, reaching him before she did, and he felt as if an invisible tentacle had shimmered forward and wrapped itself around his waist.
‘This is it, I’m afraid. It’s not very big.’ He gestured around him.
Sophie had to agree. The room was tiny. Most paramedics worked out of large city or suburban stations but because there were so few IC paras they only got a smallish room situated at Ambulance Service Headquarters.
There was a kitchenette, a toilet and shower and a lounge area that housed two recliner chairs, a large-screen television and video.
He showed her where to stash her bag and handed her a fluorescent pop-over vest with OBSERVER emblazoned on the back and front in reflective lettering.
‘What happens now?’ she asked.
‘Make yourself a cuppa and have a seat. It’s all a waiting game from now on. Saturday nights are pretty busy but it doesn’t usually hot up until after ten.’
She followed his advice and sat in the recliner next to him. She feigned interest in the TV sports show he seemed to be engrossed in. She sipped at her tea and formulated the words she would say to end this awkwardness. She despaired at the kind of night she was going to have if he continued to ignore her like this.
Daniel gripped the arms of the chair and kept his face turned forward. If he looked at her he might not want to stop. He could feel her presence to the left of him like an encroaching force field. Every movement she made rippled the energy closer and closer. Soon he would be totally swallowed up by it and every cell in his body screamed, danger!
Sophie could bear it no longer. She had to clear the air. ‘Daniel.’
‘Mmm?’ he said, his eyes not leaving the screen.
And then she chickened out. Her carefully planned speech dried in her
throat. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought! ‘Do you think I could have a look in the ambulance? I know the IC para cars are different to the standard ones and I’d like to familiarise myself with the layout if I’m going to be of any use to you tonight.’
He leapt up, pleased for the opportunity to put some distance between them. ‘Good idea.’ He nodded. ‘This way.’
Daniel opened the door that led to the outside world and the white two-seater Jeep sitting idle in the driveway. Red reflective lettering that read INTENSIVE CARE PARAMEDIC decorated the side panels and the bonnet. The ambulance service crest was on both doors. The red beacons on the roof completed the look.
‘The supplies are in the back here,’ Daniel announced as he opened up the doors and stepped back to allow for their outward swing.
Sophie inspected the equipment, all stowed on special shelves and securely fastened. A Lifepak that doubled as a heart monitor and defibrillator was in easy reach. There was also portable oxygen and suction apparatus, a large orange box full of drug ampoules and IV therapy supplies.
Several pre-packed bundles, sterilised and single use, were also available. A chest tube pack, a maternity pack, a tracheostomy pack and a trauma kit. There was also a soft-sided, multi-pocketed bag full of dressing and bandage supplies.
Cervical collars and splints were in special net holders attached to the interior roof. A spinal board ran down the center, reaching right down between the front bucket seats.
‘It’s well equipped,’ Sophie commented, turning to face him.
He nodded. ‘What we don’t carry the standard ambulances do. IC paras usually get despatched as code-two back-ups. Rarely are we first on scene. More often than not they stand us down once the first crew on scene assesses the situation and calls in their sitrep.’
‘The cases you do attend, what do they usually involve?’
‘We’re mainly used for IV access or pain relief. IC paras are the only paramedic level that carries narcotics so we do a lot of those kinds of jobs. Occasionally we get a big multi-trauma or intubation, something that really tests our skills.’
‘It must be very different from your last job. I’d imagine even on its worst Saturday night ever, the streets of Brisbane are chicken feed compared to New York.’
‘Oh, yeah.’
He laughed and his eyes crinkled, and it took Sophie back to her childhood. When he would beat her at chess and her crankiness would amuse him.
‘But, still, I don’t mind the slower pace. You so often don’t get time to even think properly over there. You just react. It’s all go, go, go. And it’s nice, living in a city where violence isn’t a way of life.’
Sophie was surprised to gain this small insight into his life over the last few years. They’d not spoken about anything personal since his return. Maybe this was a good opening to discuss their issues.
But his pager had other ideas as it interrupted with its insistent beep, beep, beep. She watched as he pulled it off his belt clip and scrolled through the message.
‘House fire out at Sunvalley. You ready?’ he asked.
She nodded and watched as he shut the back doors and briskly got into the Jeep. She donned her pop-over vest and climbed in next to him.
‘Coms, this is unit 001.’ Daniel spoke into the handheld radio hanging off the centre console.
Sophie noticed how his full lips were pressed to the black plastic of the microphone as he spoke.
‘Unit 001, have you proceeding to a house fire at number six Riverbed Drive at Sunvalley. Map reference 102 Lima twelve. You’ll be backing up unit 990. The fire service reports unknown casualties at this stage. Proceed code two, pending sitrep. The Sunvalley first responder group will also be attending.’
‘Roger that, Coms.’
They drove in silence for a while, each preparing mentally for what they might find when they arrived on scene.
‘What is the first responder group Coms was talking about?’ asked Sophie.
‘It was an initiative by the ambulance service to provide for the more remote parts of Brisbane where response times can be delayed. They’re volunteers who have been trained and respond to accident and medical emergencies in their area.’
‘Sounds like a good idea.’
‘It’s fantastic,’ he agreed, enthusiasm evident in his voice. ‘I’ve been out to a couple of jobs there already and they’re a great bunch of people. Dedicated to their community.’
Sophie was about to respond when the radio crackled to life.
‘Coms, this is unit 990. Two patients. One with minor injuries. The other with extensive burns. Can we have the IC upgraded to code one?’
‘Roger, 990. Do you copy, 001?’
‘Copy,’ replied Daniel, flicking a switch on the dashboard that activated the beacons and siren as he accelerated quickly.
Sophie held on as the sirens wailed. Daniel thrust the Brisbane directory at her and ordered her to navigate. Ten minutes later they pulled up at the scene.
‘Sophie, grab the dressing and IV kit,’ he said as they alighted from the vehicle. ‘I’ll get the drugs and the Lifepak.’
Sophie had put on her clinical mask, as had Daniel. The seriousness of the situation had banished her feelings of unease. At least in this arena they were on a level playing field.
They rushed to the badly burnt man and received a brief handover from the paramedics already on scene. One of the first response team had placed a sterile burns sheet over the victim and was dousing it with water, while another held an oxygen mask close to the man’s badly burnt face. The man was groaning and shaking quite visibly beneath the sheet.
‘Let’s pull the sheet back so we can assess the damage,’ suggested Daniel, and nodded to Larry, one of the responders, who gently peeled it back.
Sophie swallowed the gasp that rose in her throat. The burns were extensive. The patient’s clothes had been burnt away, leaving the charred flesh exposed. It looked like it had been peeled back in places and was all red and fleshy. Mostly, however, it was quite black—charred.
The man’s entire front had borne the full fury of the fire. His chest, abdomen, groin and legs had all been burned. His face didn’t look as bad—maybe only superficial burns—but the rest looked partial to deep thickness to Sophie.
‘Anything on his back?’ Daniel asked Larry.
‘Nothing,’ he confirmed.
Poor guy, Daniel thought as he did a quick calculation in his head, using the rule of nines, an internationally recognised system for estimating the extent of a patient’s burns. Fifty to sixty per cent, Daniel calculated quickly.
He nodded to Larry to replace the sheet and to continue the water treatment.
‘What’s your name, mate?’ Daniel asked the patient.
‘Simon,’ he croaked.
‘I’m Daniel. I’m a paramedic. This is Sophie. How’s your pain, Simon?’
‘It hurts real bad.’
‘Right. What I’ll do is put a couple of intravenous lines in and give you some morphine. We’ll also start some fluids and get you to hospital as quick as we can. OK?’
‘Whatever. Just hurry!’
‘Sophie, get a line in that side,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll get one this side.’
Thankfully Simon’s arms were relatively unscathed so finding a vein wasn’t going to be too difficult. Still, she felt a pressure to get it right the first time. One thing Simon needed more than anything at this moment, even getting to hospital, was fluid.
She’d seen a lot of major burns patients in her time and it was usually awful. But this? This was different again. Here, tending to the patient on the ground, in the dark, with the intense heat emanating from the smouldering house behind them, was a startling reality check.
There was a rawness about this scene that didn’t exist in the hospital situation. When patients arrived at St Jude’s they seemed…cleaner somehow. The freshness and the newness of the situation had ebbed and the real sense of urgency had dissipated. Bac
k in the department things were clean and white and ordered. Here it was dark and dirty and messy.
This was real touch-and-go stuff, even more so than in the emergency department. What they did here could determine Simon’s outcome. She shivered at the huge responsibility and wondered how Daniel did it day after day.
The needle slipped in easily and she ran a bag of fluid through a giving set and attached it, commandeering Larry to act as a human IV pole. She checked the ampoule of morphine with Daniel and he pushed it straight into the IV line.
‘OK, Simon. The pain should start to ease off now,’ Daniel assured him.
The thing Daniel had to worry about now was any respiratory involvement. He shone his penlight up Simon’s nose and noted the singed nasal hairs. He’d obviously sustained some inhalation burn injury to his respiratory tract.
The extent was difficult to assess, looking from the outside. Simon’s airway could be swelling right now. There was no audible respiratory stridor at the moment, which was a plus. But his voice had sounded croaky. They should load him and go. If he should need intubating, that was something better done at the hospital.
‘Do you want the fluids running to the standard formula?’ Sophie asked.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I’ll get the stretcher.’
One of the major problems with burns victims was the dramatic fluid shifts that went on inside their bodies. Fluid that usually circulated through their vessels was pushed out, into the interstitial spaces. It was imperative that this fluid be replaced and for further losses to be accommodated.
An international protocol governed the type and the amount of intravenous fluids to be given, depending on body weight, surface area, burns percentage and time elapsed since the initial injury.
As Sophie did the calculations, Daniel, with the help of the first responders and the other two paramedics, loaded Simon into the back of the ambulance. The second patient, who had sustained a minor burn to one hand, was also going with them.
Daniel handed the Jeep keys to Sophie. ‘Follow us,’ he said. ‘We’re going to St Jude’s.’
Sophie’s hand closed around the keys. Obviously Daniel was going to ride in the back of the ambulance with Simon and he wanted her to drive the Jeep.