by Lucy Clark
‘Do you give your nieces piles of noisy toys?’
‘Of course. It’s an aunty’s responsibility.’
Virgil chuckled again. ‘I’m sure Arthur is looking forward to getting his own back when you start having children.’
The smile instantly slid from Clara’s face and she quickly stood. ‘I should go and check on the patients in the treatment bays. That way, when a horde of emergencies come flooding in—thanks to your earlier comment—’ she tried to keep a light and teasing tone to her voice, but even to her own ears she knew she hadn’t succeeded ‘—the rounds will have been done.’
‘Hey.’ Virgil stood and put a hand gently on her arm. She tried not to gasp as the zing of desire spread up her arm and burst throughout her body. ‘Clara, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. Just doing my job.’ She forced a smile and took a step away.
Virgil instantly dropped his hand and let her go. What had he said? Did Clara not want children of her own? If that was the case, how did he feel about that? With the re-emergence of Clara into his life, his hopes of having more children had increased. It wasn’t just that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Clara, he wanted to build a family with her. Was that wanting too much?
After the successful dinner at his house last weekend, when that moment at the bottom of the stairs had shown him that she was as captivated with him as he was with her, his hopes had continued to increase. Still, he needed to be aware of Clara’s own feelings, to listen to her and take his cues from her.
He’d been wanting all week to ask her for another date—one on which Rosie would be able to join them so she could get to know his daughter better. Rosie was such an integral part of his life that he wanted his little love to be as comfortable around Clara as he was—but would Clara be happy to go on a date with himself and a three-year-old? She and Rosie had connected beautifully last weekend, but had that been just a one-off? If Clara saw Rosie having a temper tantrum, would that put her off wanting to get involved with him? Especially if she didn’t want to have children in the future?
The phone on the desk rang, and as he was the closest he picked it up. ‘Emergency Department,’ he said, then reached for a pen in order to note the details from the paramedics.
An elderly woman had injured both ankles after a fall from a stepladder. Both she and her elderly husband, who was in a wheelchair, were being brought in via ambulance. Estimated time of arrival was ten minutes. After hanging up the phone, he went in search of Clara, finding her just finishing off checking on the three patients who were presently being monitored for a variety of injuries.
‘Ambulance arriving in just under ten minutes,’ he said, and gave her the details. ‘Do you need help?’
She shook her head. ‘Should be fine. Besides, we have enough staff here to deal with a non-life-threatening emergency—which this is.’ She headed back to the nurses’ station. ‘I’ll call the orthopaedic registrar for a consult on her ankles, but until we’ve been through the X-ray process there’s no urgency.’
‘See? My earlier gaffe didn’t result in a horde of emergencies,’ he pointed out, and was rewarded with quizzical smile.
‘Not yet.’
Virgil knew he should go home, but he’d just finished a five-hour emergency surgery, missing the opportunity to say goodnight on the phone to Rosie, so there was no reason for him to dash home. If he was honest with himself, what he really wanted to do was stay here with Clara.
When the ambulance arrived he stayed out of the way, watching as the patient’s husband, still in his wheelchair, was lowered to the ground via the hydraulic lift before an orderly pushed him inside. The paramedics soon followed, with the stretcher holding the man’s wife.
‘Henry hates to leave me and I hate to leave him,’ Clara’s patient, Mrs Linda Santorino, told her as the paramedics took her into a treatment room. ‘We’ve been through so much during our lives, and now, as we’re coming to the end of our race, we really do like doing things together.’
‘That’s lovely to hear,’ Clara responded as she got into position, ready to transfer Mrs Santorino from the paramedic stretcher to the hospital barouche.
When Virgil came to stand next to her, ready to help, she found it momentarily difficult to concentrate on what she needed to do. Why wouldn’t he go home? He wasn’t supposed to be here, driving her to distraction.
‘One, two, three,’ the paramedic counted.
They shifted Mrs Santorino—or Linda, as she’d invited them all to call her—onto the hospital bed. The paramedics finished giving their handover, letting Clara know what pain relief had already been administered, and Clara started her own assessment of the patient. After a brief clinical assessment of Linda’s ankles, Clara requested X-rays and a few pathology tests.
‘Both ankles are most definitely sprained, but as they’re so swollen I’m unable to assess whether they’re broken. The X-rays will tell us more.’
‘Once she’s had the X-rays, can we go home?’ Henry asked, coughing a little as he spoke.
Clara eyed him carefully. His skin was pale and his lips seemed a little dry.
‘I’m afraid Linda will need to stay in for at least a day or two.’
‘What?’ Linda seemed surprised at this. ‘But—but even if I have to stay off my feet, I can still go home, can’t I? We’re set up with wheelchair ramps and everything for Henry, so surely I can just hire myself a wheelchair and head back home?’
There was a hint of desperation in Linda’s tone and Clara really felt for them. It must be so difficult to get to a stage in your life, when your mind was as sharp as ever but your body was starting to fail you.
‘Henry can’t be at home on his own. I’m his full-time carer.’
‘Oh. Uh—do you have any family close by who could perhaps come and help out?’ Virgil asked, but both of them shook their head.
‘Well, why don’t we see what the X-rays reveal and we can plan from there?’ Clara stated, not wanting to upset either of them. ‘In the meantime—Henry, can I get you a cup of tea?’
The elderly man’s eyes softened at her words. ‘That would be great, love. Thanks.’
‘I can do that,’ Virgil offered. ‘I’ll even see if I can find a few biscuits for you, Henry.’
‘Thanks, lad.’ Henry nodded.
‘Do I get a cuppa?’ Linda asked hopefully.
‘I’d rather you don’t have anything at this present time,’ Clara told her patient. ‘At least until I get the results of your scans.’
She didn’t want to tell them that if Linda’s ankles were broken, there was a high possibility that surgery would be required.
‘What are you doing?’ Clara asked Virgil in a stage whisper as they headed back to the nurses’ station. ‘You’re not the tea lady.’
‘And neither are you. The brilliant volunteers who do our tea runs are well and truly off duty and the nurses have other things to do right now. Besides, I don’t mind.’
Clara sighed heavily. ‘Just go home, Virgil.’
‘Why? Rosie’s asleep. Gwenda’s probably asleep. I have a lot of energy at the moment. I don’t mind helping out.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Ugh! I give up. Right. Go make the tea for Henry. I need to get these X-rays and tests sorted out.’
She turned her back on him, deciding that he could do whatever he wanted. She wasn’t in charge of the ED, her brother was, and at present Arthur wasn’t there—so far be it from her to dictate what Victory Hospital’s leading general surgeon should and shouldn’t do!
The orderlies came and wheeled Linda’s barouche to the radiology department. Clara had thought Henry would want to go with her, but when she went to check on him he was sitting in his wheelchair, sipping his cup of tea. Virgil was seated nearby, chatting amicably.
‘Comfy?’ she aske
d.
‘Absolutely. Henry was just telling me that he used to be in the Air Force.’
‘Over thirty years,’ Henry added. ‘Plane went down twice and I survived both times.’ He took a bite of biscuit and when he started to chew, he coughed at the same time, breathing in and getting some biscuit lodged in his throat.
‘Henry?’ Clara watched him closely.
The man coughed again.
‘You OK?’
She came closer and Virgil stood up from his chair, both of them on alert to see if Henry needed help. He tried to suck in some air but it was clearly difficult for him. The elderly man’s eyes widened in terror as he tried to breathe once more. He gasped several times, each one a valiant attempt, but it was no good.
Although time seemed to have stood still, it was only a matter of seconds before Clara and Virgil were by Henry’s side. Clara hit Henry firmly on the back, hoping to dislodge the obstruction. It didn’t work.
‘Help me get him out of the wheelchair.’ Clara ensured the wheels were locked in place as Virgil put both his arms beneath Henry’s armpits and performed the Heimlich manoeuvre.
Nothing!
Clara pressed the emergency button, alerting staff that they required help.
‘There’s no way to dislodge it,’ she told Virgil. ‘Get me a barouche,’ she told the first nurse who appeared in the treatment room. ‘His glands are starting to swell,’ she announced.
‘I’ll need to do a tracheotomy,’ Virgil stated as Henry tried desperately to breathe.
Only the smallest amount of air was getting through. The elderly man looked even more frail than before, and Clara was exceedingly worried for him.
‘Set up for emergency tracheotomy,’ she told Kate, the sister in charge this evening. ‘Let’s get Henry onto the bed,’ she added when a barouche was wheeled in from another room.
Staff were helping out everywhere. A tray was set up for Virgil to use while he pulled on a pair of gloves. Clara placed her hands on either side of Henry’s head to keep him as still as possible, seeing the look in the man’s eyes conveying his distress at finding himself in such a situation.
‘It’s OK, Henry. You’ll be fine in no time. Virgil’s one of our finest surgeons and he’s going to take excellent care of you.’
‘Yes, I am,’ he stated firmly as he carefully palpated the tracheal rings, ensuring he made the incision into the correct space. ‘Scalpel,’ he stated, and Kate put the instrument into his hand.
A moment later Virgil had a piece of tubing in place and with a gurgling, rasping sound Henry was able successfully to get air into his lungs. Clara breathed a sigh of relief, very happy now that Virgil had indeed stuck around. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t have been able to perform the emergency procedure, but it was much better to have a surgeon do it.
Now that Henry was breathing, Virgil turned and thanked the staff. ‘I think we’ll transfer Henry to one of the emergency bays,’ he said. ‘So that when Linda comes back there’s room for her here. Besides, the emergency bays have the equipment needed to completely remove this obstruction. Kate, can you get me the anaesthetics registrar, please? Given Henry’s age, we’ll need to sedate him in order to successfully remove the obstruction.’
‘Let’s get you something for the pain,’ Clara said.
Thankfully, Henry was wearing a medical alert bracelet on his wrist, and after checking the information contained there, she was able to draw up some analgesics for Henry to assist him with his immediate pain.
When Henry was in the emergency bay, which was bigger and had more equipment, the anaesthetics registrar came and consulted alongside Virgil. It was decided, due to Henry’s age, not to give him a full sedative. A local would be enough to keep Henry relaxed enough for Virgil to use the equipment to dislodge the obstruction.
Once they began, the procedure didn’t take long, and when Linda came back from the radiology department Clara explained the situation to her.
‘So where is Henry now?’ a shocked Linda asked.
‘He’s being admitted to a ward for observation,’ Clara told her as she checked the scans of Linda’s ankles. ‘I’m very happy to tell you that neither of your ankles are broken, just very badly sprained. You’re going to need a lot of bed-rest as well as physiotherapy for the next few months.’
‘Months?’ Linda laid her head back against the pillows and promptly burst into tears. It was all too much for her.
‘We’ll be admitting you tonight, and I’ll do my best to ensure you and Henry are side by side in the ward.’ Clara gave Linda a tissue and wrote up a prescription for more pain relief. ‘I’ll be around to see you in the morning.’
‘And you’ll look after my treatment?’
Clara shook her head. ‘You’re being admitted under one of our physicians—Dr Presley. He’ll also be around in the morning to introduce himself to you. You’ll love him. He was an Air Force doctor for many years.’
‘Oh, well. If he was Air Force...’ Linda let her words trail off as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. ‘It’s going to be a bit of an upheaval, but Henry and I can get through it.’
Now that she’d had her cry, it was as though Linda was ready to cope with the latest challenge in her life.
‘What an amazing woman,’ Clara said to Virgil when they both ended up back at the nurses’ station.
‘What an amazing couple,’ Virgil agreed. ‘So devoted to each other.’
‘Linda must have been through a lot of hard times during her life—especially as Henry said he’d gone down with his plane twice!’
‘It would have been difficult for her.’ Virgil sat back in his chair, resting his head and closing his eyes. ‘He’d head off to work on a top secret Air Force mission and she’d probably have no idea whether he was dead or alive until he walked in the front door.’
‘I don’t know if I could live like that—not knowing what was happening to the people I loved.’
‘That’s how I used to feel whenever I thought about you.’
Virgil’s words were soft and Clara couldn’t help but stare at him.
‘What?’
‘I used to think about you a lot, Clara.’
‘Even when you were married?’
He smiled sadly. ‘Thinking about an old girlfriend isn’t a crime—even for a married man.’
‘What happened?’ she asked softly, pleased that the ED was indeed quiet and there weren’t a lot of staff around. ‘You said your wife died in a car accident with her lover. That must have brought you a lot of mixed emotions.’
‘It did. When a person gets married, no one ever thinks their happiness is going to change—but it can and it does. I think Diana was fed up with me spending so much time at the hospital, devoting more time to my patients than to her. She was right, though. I did spend too much time at the hospital because I wasn’t happy in my marriage.’
‘Why weren’t you happy?’
He met and held her gaze. ‘Because I married the wrong woman.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘I tried to make it work. You’d rejected me—or so I thought—and I needed to get on with my life. Diana and I went to marriage counselling and things actually turned around for a while. It was good. It was happy. And she became pregnant with Rosie.’
Virgil exhaled slowly and shook his head.
‘But Diana had a bad pregnancy. She was sick. Gestational diabetes, pre-eclampsia—the works. She was bedridden from five months onwards, and when Rosie was born via emergency C-section...’ He shook his head again. ‘Diana didn’t bond with her. She didn’t want to hold her, feed her, look at her.’
‘Oh, Virgil. How sad...’
‘When they returned home from the hospital, Diana still couldn’t attach herself to Rosie. I took several months off work so I could care for the baby—feeding, changing, bat
hing...I was Daddy, and caring for Rosie was the most important job I’d ever had. Diana...’ He trailed off. ‘I didn’t know she was seeing someone else. He was one of the district nurses who had been coming around to check on her during her third trimester. Both of them were killed outright when the car hit a tree.’
Clara gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
‘She was leaving me. That’s where the two of them had been going. Off to start a new life together.’ He held his palms up and shrugged. ‘She’d left me a note saying it was over. She didn’t want custody of Rosie, and she didn’t want to be married to me. She wanted to be happy, and I wasn’t the man to make her happy.’
‘Oh, Virgil.’ Clara shook her head and within the next instant she’d thrown her arms around him, hugging him close. ‘I wish I’d been there to help you through those times.’
He eased back a little and looked into her face. ‘I wish I’d been there to help you through your bad times.’
When Clara continued to stare into his eyes, wanting to convey her desire to support him, there was only one way she could think of to do that—she pressed her mouth to his.
CHAPTER EIGHT
VIRGIL COULDN’T BELIEVE the way it felt to have her lips pressed to his once again, but no sooner had she kissed him than he put his hands on her shoulders and eased her away. ‘Not here,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t want to give the gossipers any ammunition.’
Clara’s eyes went from being glazed over with a mixture of sadness, regret and desire to widening in shock, as she realised exactly what she’d done and where they were presently situated.
‘Oh, my gosh!’ She sprang back from him and stood. ‘I’m—I’m—’ She shook her head.
Virgil stood, but kept his distance. ‘It’s OK.’ He glanced around them. ‘No one saw.’
He could feel fatigue starting to set in, and unsuccessfully smothered a yawn.