by Fiona Lowe
Sam caught sight of Emily opening the IV cannula onto the sterile field of the dressing pack. ‘Will it hurt?’
He ripped the printout off the monitor. ‘Nah, I’ll keep my questions as painless as possible.’
Sam laughed and Emily slipped the tourniquet onto the girl’s arm, tightening it to find a vein. Linton would keep Sam distracted while she took the blood.
Linton focused his attention back onto Sam. ‘Have you been feeling sick lately?’
‘A bit. I feel sick when I eat.’ She glanced at Emily, who was swabbing her arm.
Linton nodded, his expression one of understanding. ‘In the mornings or all day?’
‘All day.’
‘Have you been feeling sick for a long time?’
‘A few months. Ouch!’
Emily released the tourniquet as she withdrew the trocar from the cannula. ‘Sorry, but that’s it. I’ve taken the blood and the IV is in.’ She passed the blood vial to Jodie, who had arrived to run the specimen to the lab.
‘Have you been eating much at all?’ Linton stayed on task, chipping away.
The clack of high heels sounded on the floor. ‘I want to see her now!’
Jodie’s placating voice sounded in the distance and then the curtains moved and a well-dressed woman in a black suit appeared.
‘Darling, are you all right?’ The woman rushed to Sam’s side and picked up her hand. Then she took in Emily and Linton. ‘I’m Rachel, Sam’s mum. What’s wrong with her?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to work out.’ Linton continued smoothly, ‘I was just wondering if Sam had been eating enough.’
Rachel sighed. ‘She’s like every teenage girl. She won’t eat breakfast but she eats a good lunch and dinner, don’t you, darling?’ She stroked Sam’s hair.
For the first time Sam dropped her gaze from Linton’s but she didn’t look at her mother. She mumbled, ‘I eat enough.’
The monitor screeched as Sam’s heart threw off a series of arrhythmias, the high line dipping low rather than soaring high. ‘Ventricular tachycardia?’ Anxiety fluttered in Emily’s gut.
Linton’s brow creased in a worried frown. ‘Bigeminal PVCs. Give her two grams of potassium chloride in one hundred millilitres of saline over an hour through an infusion pump. Let’s try and head ventricular tachycardia off at the pass.’
‘What about lignocaine to soothe vein irritation?’ Emily snapped open the ampoule of KCL.
‘Good idea.’ Linton wrote up the drug order.
‘What’s happening?’ Rachel’s distressed voice sounded loud in the small area.
‘We think that Sam’s very low on potassium and that’s affecting her heart. It’s causing the large chamber of her heart, the ventricle, to have these funny beats.’ He pointed to the monitor showing the wider beats with the negative drops.
The mother’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Potassium? I don’t understand. She’s never had anything wrong with her heart.’
Emily injected the KCL into the burette and titrated the drip flow through the pump. She shot Linton a knowing look. Rachel had no idea about Sam’s anorexia.
Linton put his hand on the scared girl’s arm. ‘I believe you when you say you eat enough.’
Sam’s shoulders relaxed and she gave Linton a coy smile.
Linton’s tone stayed gentle but firm. ‘But your body is missing a lot of nutrients and you’re very, very thin. So for us to help you, I need you to be honest with me. Have you been using laxatives so that what you eat gets quickly out of your body?’
Sam looked down, pulling at a loose thread on the blanket and unravelling the blanket stitch.
Rachel slumped into the chair by the trolley, still holding her daughter’s hand. ‘Honey, please, tell us. No one is going to get cross.’
Tears formed slowly and spilled down Sam’s cheeks. ‘I had to. You made me eat. I’m fat and this is the only way for me to be pretty.’
Emily’s heart contracted in pain. Being pretty was everything at fifteen. The taunting voices of high school echoed in her mind. Hey, Ranga! With that hair and those freckles, no guy will ever think you’re hot.
And they hadn’t. She’d never dated until she’d gone to university and even then the only person to beat a path to her door had been Nathan.
He’d reinforced every taunt she’d tried to put behind her. A sigh shuddered through as the memory of Nathan’s sarcastic eyes seared her soul, his snarling voice booming in her head. You’re not exactly model material, are you?
She caught Linton staring at her, his gaze too intent for comfort and his frown disapproving. She immediately covered her reaction by checking the drip.
Linton blinked and turned toward Rachel. ‘We’re going to admit Samantha and get her electrolytes sorted out. Then we can discuss her ongoing care with regard to her anorexia, which will probably involve a transfer to Sydney.’
Rachel shook her head, as if the action would help her take in the situation. ‘I didn’t realise…’
Linton’s sympathetic glance took in mother and daughter. ‘I’ll go and arrange for admittance and be back to talk to you soon.’
‘Jodie will be here, monitoring you, and ring the bell any time.’ Emily squeezed Rachel’s shoulder and followed Linton toward the desk, but he kept going to his office. Surprised, she followed him.
‘Close the door.’ He threw the command over his shoulder as he slammed Sam’s history down onto the desk. ‘Damn it, the kid’s skeletal.’
His anger and frustration buffeted Emily. She understood his sense of hopelessness that in a country where food existed in overabundance this girl had chosen to starve. ‘She must have been purging herself for months.’
He sat down hard, his hand raking through his hair. ‘How could she possibly think that to be that thin is beautiful? I blame this celebrity culture and obsession with perfection.’
She sat on the edge of his desk. ‘That’s a bit too simplistic, don’t you think? I think it starts a lot closer to home.’ The words sounded overly definite and loud in the small room.
Linton’s gaze swung around and centred exclusively on her—his green eyes penetrating way too deeply. ‘How so?’
Her heart started to pound. Hell, somehow she’d just sparked his attention. No way was she going to tell Linton about Nathan. She tried to sound detached, as if she was giving an academic and professional opinion on any medical topic and not one that related to her.
‘Teenagers are vulnerable as they try and work out who they are and how they fit into the world. Take someone who feels they have little control over their life. Combine that with being unhappy at how they look and add in a thoughtless, throw-away comment by someone in the family or a friend, constant teasing at school, and that can result in anorexia or bulimia.’
‘Surely one comment wouldn’t do it? It would have to be a bullying-type thing.’ His brow creased in confusion, as if he was having problems accepting her statement.
She twisted a strand of hair around her finger as visions of her mid to late teenage years assaulted her. ‘Studies have shown one comment can do it. A person can latch onto that comment and never let it go, never really see it in perspective. Or it could be a collection of random comments, building up on top of each other.’
Suddenly sympathy radiated from his eyes. ‘Did that happen to you?’
His unexpected question suddenly made her academic musings seem personal. Personal would lead to Nathan and that sent fear spiralling through her. She didn’t want to see the same pity in his eyes for herself that she’d just seen reflected for Sam.
Her head whirled, trying to come up with the best way to deflect his question. Perhaps, if she gave him a snippet of her life at fifteen, that would satisfy him and he’d stop asking questions. She lifted her chin and tossed her head, her curls bouncing into her eyes. ‘At fifteen I was voted least likely to be kissed by my peers, and my dad confiscated my make-up.’
Linton stiffened, as if his hand had just brus
hed a hot iron, and gave a tight smile. ‘That sounds like the standard behaviour of some teenage girls and the normal behaviour of an over-protective father freaking out when he realised his only daughter was growing up.’ His brow furrowed. ‘I think you know that.’
A niggle of guilt pulled at her gut that she’d flippantly disregarded the sympathy in his original question. But she ignored it by speaking to his shoulder and avoiding his eyes. ‘Let’s add on my eldest brother covering my bikini and me in a woolsack. He marched me out of the dam and back to the house, hiding me from every shearer and cowboy on the station.’ She crossed her arms. ‘It’s these sorts of things that add up.’
He narrowed his eyes, which sparked like jade. ‘I think that now as an adult you know that your brothers were protecting you from the prying eyes of older, single men. Both your examples tell me you have a loving family.’
Her heart started to hammer as he sliced through her examples. She hated it that he was so perceptive. ‘But it’s things like this that for some kids spark off anorexia and bulimia.’ The words hung defiantly between them.
‘True.’ He reached out his hand and lightly touched her arm. ‘But I think you’ve told me those two stories to avoid telling me the real story.’
Her breath seemed solidify in her lungs, refusing to move in or out as the caring caress of his hand jumbled her emotions, tugging at her resolve. Memories of Nathan—vicious and soul destroying—oozed out of the deep, dark place she’d thought she successfully contained them. Beads of sweat clung to her hairline as the recollections she’d thought she’d dealt with and accepted hammered her, delivering the same sharp sting as when they’d first been inflicted.
She stood up abruptly, needing to break the contact. Needing to distance herself from the siren call of his touch. ‘There is no real story.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ He spoke softly, but the words rained down on her like hailstones, hard and painful.
She swung round, angry that he wouldn’t let the topic go. ‘I am not anorexic.’
He raised his brows. ‘But you have been?’
‘No.’ She flung the word at him laden with hurt. ‘I have never been anorexic or bulimic, and why is this conversation suddenly all about me rather than Sam?’
‘Because you’re hiding your body behind baggy clothes just like that fifteen-year-old, and I want to know why.’
‘I dress for comfort!’ She marched toward the door, needing to leave and put an end to this conversation. Her hand reached for the handle.
‘You dress to bury any signs of being a woman.’
She breathed in sharply, the accuracy of his words slicing into her like a scalpel dividing skin. Nathan’s legacy. No one else had ever deduced that she hid her body behind shapeless clothes.
Humiliation clawed at her and she wanted to sink through the floor. But she couldn’t. She summoned up righteous anger, the only thing that could save her.
How dared he talk to her like that? He had no right at all. She welcomed the surge of fury that rocked through her as it numbed the pain. She spun around, her hands on her hips. ‘That is complete nonsense and I need to get back to my patient.’
He checked his watch. ‘Jodie is with her and technically you’re off duty. But you can leave when you tell me that what I said was incorrect.’
Resentment fizzed in her veins. ‘What you said was way out of line. You’re my boss and you’re out of order with this.’
‘I’m also your friend, Emily.’
His earnest look and tone hit her like a medicine ball to the belly. Gone was every sign of the flirting, fun-loving doctor.
He splayed his fingers, palms upward in supplication. ‘I get the strongest feeling something has happened to you, only I’m not sure it happened at fifteen. But whatever it is, it’s trapping you.’ His head moved slightly, the blond tips of his hair shining in the light. ‘I want to help.’
She’d never told anyone about her year with Nathan—not her darling father or her teasing but supportive brothers. She’d been too embarrassed, too ashamed. And they’d never asked—at least, not with words. She’d been able to ignore their looks of concern when she’d returned home from uni and as she’d thrown herself into work, life had gone on. It was as if there’d been a tacit agreement that no one spoke about her time in Dubbo.
But Linton’s concerned gaze bored into her. She could withstand his teasing, she could mock his flirting behaviour, but this sincerity eroded all her resolve to keep everything to herself.
Her legs suddenly gave way and she abruptly sat down, every part of her aching that he’d seen through her. She hated it that he was the one person who had. Now she had nowhere to hide and the galling truth had to be told. ‘I accepted a while ago it was best to hide what was offensive.’
The raw pain in her voice stabbed Linton in the chest. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Me.’ She kept her eyes staring down as she twisted open a paperclip, straightening the wire.
‘What about you?’ A thousand thoughts whizzed through his mind. What was she hiding? Was she scarred from burns? Did she have a florid birthmark?
‘I… Not everyone is blessed with an attractive body.’
He shook his head in disbelief, trying to shake her words into coherence. ‘You think you don’t have an attractive body?’
‘I know that I don’t.’ Her head snapped up, her eyes glittering with daring and defiance. ‘So now you’ve dragged that out of me and completely mortified me, you can let the subject drop, right?’
A streak of remorse twinged but he knew he had to ignore it. He couldn’t stop now—he had to get to the bottom of this. The image of creamy breasts and pert buttocks that he’d glimpsed at the Royal rolled out in his mind. ‘No, sorry, I can’t let the subject drop. Why on earth do you think your body is unattractive?’
A shuddering sigh resonated around the room. ‘You get told something often enough, you can’t ignore it.’
‘Who told you?’ The words came out on a growl despite his intentions to sound neutral.
She dropped her gaze and her body started to shiver.
He spoke softly this time. ‘Emily?’
Her hands fisted in her lap. ‘A boyfriend at uni found me lacking in many attributes.’
Anger curled in his gut at the unknown man. ‘This guy sounds like a complete jerk.’
For a moment her lips curved up slightly and the Emily he knew so well almost surfaced. ‘I see you’ve met him.’
He wanted to open her eyes to this guy. ‘But he was just one guy with one opinion.’
She dropped her chin, her hair falling forward, masking her expression, but he caught a glimpse of pearly white teeth nibbling her plump bottom lip.
Heat slammed into him. Hell, what was wrong with him? He pulled his concentration back. He was supposed to be helping her, not imagining what her lips would taste like. ‘Other boyfriends must have cancelled out his attitude.’
‘He was the only guy.’ The mumbled words were barely audible.
Her pain rocked through him and he worried he might have pushed her too hard. He suddenly realised she might not have told anyone about this. ‘I know it seems tough right now but talking about it will help.’
A moment later she raised her head, her eyes filled with a mixture of defiance and shame. ‘I guess starting at the beginning works best.’ She hauled in a deep breath. ‘I left home at eighteen to study nursing. I was pretty naïve and definitely inexperienced, and I met Nathan toward the end of my second year. He was the first man who had ever shown any interest in me and…’ She shrugged and swallowed hard. ‘I guess he swept me off my feet. I remember it all happened very fast and we suddenly went from two dates a week apart to being together most of the time.’
His radar went on full alert. ‘Did he pay you a lot of attention and shower you with gifts?’
‘At the start, yes. He used to text me on the hour, he took me out to dinner, bought me flowers and chocolates. Then he
started buying me clothes and no one had ever done anything like that for me. At first it was intoxicating to be the centre of attention when I’d always felt overlooked by men.’ She looked straight at him, surprise on her face. ‘How did you know he did that? Do you have a crystal ball?’
His gut turned over, aching for her. ‘No, but I’ve met guys like that.’ Treated the women they’ve left emotionally damaged.
She jabbed the paperclip onto the edge of the desk. ‘By Christmas we were a couple and I was head over heels in love. He visited the station during my summer holidays. When I returned for my final year of study he suggested I move in. He said the rent would be less and I could give up my part-time job and focus on uni. Final year is pretty full on with study and practicals and he convinced me it would be a solution to make my life easier. He even turned the third bedroom into a study for me.’
‘I could see how that would be tempting,’ Linton murmured encouragingly. He worried she might not want to continue.
She blew out a long breath. ‘That was when things started to change. He insisted on picking me up from the hospital, driving me to uni, basically not letting me be alone. He bought me clothes, suggested what I should wear. At first it seemed special, that a man would take such an interest. But then his behaviour started to be unpredictable especially if I didn’t wear what he had bought.’
A shudder vibrated through her. ‘There were times when everything was as wonderful as when we first met, but they got further apart and more times than not I didn’t recognise him. Like the day he cut up the dress I’d bought to wear to a friend’s twenty-first.’
Anger, raw and primitive, blasted through him so hard that had he been standing he would have been knocked off his feet. This low-life had used vicious verbal abuse to crush a young woman who should have been blossoming into womanhood and discovering her own brand of sexuality.
Somehow he managed to sound calm. ‘And when he acted irrationally he always blamed you. Men like that don’t love, they only want to control.’
Her grey eyes filmed over and she blinked rapidly, nodding her head ‘Pretty much. It was so confusing. I wanted to be attractive for him, I wanted to make him happy—I loved him—but no matter what I did, it was wrong. I was never pretty enough, I was never appreciative enough and…’