Читать книгу Chistmas In Manhattan Collection - Алисон Робертс - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

IT MIGHT WELL have been the two cops standing outside a curtained cubicle that attracted his attention as he walked past.

If he’d had any inclination to analyse it, though, Charles would probably have realised that it was the voice on the other side of the curtain that made him slow down.

Grace’s voice.

‘Looks like we’ve got an entrance wound here. And...an exit wound here. But it’s possible that they’re two entrance wounds. We need an X-ray.’

One of the cops caught his gaze and responded to the raised eyebrow.

‘Drive-by shooting,’ he said. ‘He’s lucky. It was his arm and not his head.’

With a nod, Charles moved on. Grace clearly had things under control. She always did, whenever he noticed her in the department and that was almost every day now that he had adjusted his hours to fit around nursery school for the twins. More than once a day, too. Not that he went out of his way to make their paths cross or anything. It just seemed to happen.

Okay, maybe he was choosing to do some necessary paperwork at one side of the unit desk instead of tucked away in his office but that was because he liked to keep half an eye on how the whole department was functioning. He could see the steady movement of people and equipment and hear phone calls being made and the radio link to the ambulance service. If anybody needed urgent assistance, he could be on his feet and moving in an instant.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Grace would be in this area before too long, checking the X-rays that would arrive digitally on one of the bank of departmental computer screens beside him.

He had a sheaf of statistics that he needed to review, like the numbers and types of patients that were coming through his department and it was important to see how they stacked up and whether trends were changing. Level one patients were the critical cases that took the most in the way of personnel and resources, but too many level four or five patients could create barriers to meeting target times for treatment and patient flow.

Grace Forbes certainly wasn’t wasting time with her patients. It was only minutes later that she was logging in to a computer nearby, flanked by two medical students and a junior doctor. As they waited to upload files, she glanced sideways and acknowledged Charles with a smile but then she peered intently at the screen. Her colleagues leaned in as she used the cursor to highlight what she was looking at.

‘There... Can you see that?’

‘Is it a bone fragment?’

‘No. Look how smooth the edges of the humerus are. And this is well away from it.’

‘So it’s a bullet fragment?’

‘Yes. A very small one.’

‘Do we need to get it out?’

‘No. It’s not clinically significant. And we were right that it’s only one entrance and an exit wound but it was also right to check.’

‘Want me to clean and dress it, then?’ The junior doctor was keen to take over the case. ‘Let the cops take him in to talk to him?’

‘Yes. We’ll put him on a broad-spectrum antibiotic as well. And make sure he gets a tetanus shot. Thanks, Danny. You’re in charge now.’ Grace’s attention was swiftly diverted as she saw an incoming stretcher and she straightened and moved smoothly towards the new arrival as if she’d been ready and waiting all along.

‘Hi, honey.’ The girl on the stretcher looked very young, very pale and very frightened. ‘My name’s Grace and I’m going to be looking after you.’

Charles could hear one of the paramedics talking to Grace as they moved past to a vacant cubicle.

‘Looks like gastro. Fever of thirty-nine point five and history of vomiting and diarrhoea. Mom called us when she fainted.’

‘BP?’

‘Eighty systolic. Couldn’t get a diastolic.’

‘I’m not surprised she fainted, then...’

The voices faded but Charles found himself still watching, even after the curtain had twitched into place to protect the new patient’s privacy.

His attention was well and truly caught this time.

Because he was puzzled.

At moments like this, Grace was exactly the person he would have predicted that she would become. Totally on top of her work. Clever, competent and confident. She got along well with all her colleagues, too. Charles had heard more than one report of how great she was to work with and how generous she was with her time for staff members who were here to learn.

Thanks to the challenge that had been thrown at her within the first minutes of her coming to work here, Charles already knew how good Grace was at her job and how well she coped with difficult circumstances. That ability to think on her feet and adapt was a huge advantage for someone who worked in Emergency and she demonstrated the same kind of attitude in her private life, too, didn’t she—in the way she had jumped on board, under pressure, to take on the dog-sitting offer.

But...and this was what was puzzling Charles so much...there was something very different about her personality away from work.

Something that felt off-key.

A timidity, almost. Lack of confidence, anyway.

Vulnerability? The way she’d shrunk away from him at the park yesterday. When he’d ventured onto personal ground by asking her about her marriage. He’d been puzzled then and he hadn’t been able to shake it off.

He didn’t want to shake it off, in fact. It was quite nice having this distraction because it meant he could ignore the background tension he always had at this time of year when he was walking an emotional tightrope between celebrating the joy of the twins’ birth and being swamped by the grief of losing Nina, which was a can of mental worms that included so many other things he felt he should have done better—like protecting his family during the time of that scandal.

A nurse appeared from behind the curtain, with a handful of glass tubes full of blood that were clearly being rushed off for testing. He caught a glimpse of Grace bent over her patient, with her stethoscope in her ears and a frown of concentration on her face.

Grace had understood that grief so easily. He could still see those tears shimmering in her eyes when she’d been listening to him. Perhaps he’d known that she would understand on a different level from anybody else and that was why he had chosen to say more to her than he would have even to members of his own family.

But how had he known that?

And why was it that she did understand so clearly?

Who had she lost? Her husband, obviously, but the tone of her limited response to his queries had made him think that it was a marriage that simply hadn’t worked out, not one that had been blown apart by tragedy, as his had been.

He wanted to know, dammit.

More than that, and he knew that it was ridiculous, but he was a bit hurt by being shut out.

Why?

Because—once upon a time—she had fallen into his arms and told him everything she was so worried about? That the pressure of those final exams was doing her head in? That it was times like this that she felt so lonely because it made her miss the mother she’d lost more than ever?

He’d had no intention of revisiting the memories of that night but they were creeping back now. The events that threatened to derail his life that had crashed around him so soon after that night had made it inevitable that it had to be dismissed but there was one aspect he’d never completely buried.

That sense of connection with another person.

He’d never felt it before that night.

He’d been lucky enough to find it again—with Nina—but he’d known that any chance of a third strike was out of the question. He wasn’t looking because he didn’t want to find it.

But it was already there with Grace, wasn’t it? It had been, from the moment he’d taken her into his arms that night to comfort her.

And he’d felt it again at the park, when he’d seen her crying for his loss.

She’d been crying that night, too...

‘You okay?’

‘Huh?’ Charles blinked as he heard the voice beside him. ‘I’m fine, thanks, Miranda.’

‘Okay...’ But his half-sister was frowning at him. ‘It’s not like you to be sitting staring into space.’

Her frown advertised concern. A closeness that gave Charles a beat of something warm. Something good. Because it had been hard won? Miranda had come into their family as a penniless, lonely and frightened sixteen-year-old who was desperately missing her mother who had just died. It had been Charles who’d taken on the responsibility of trying to make her feel wanted. A little less lonely. Trying to persuade her that the scandal hadn’t been her fault.

‘I was just thinking.’ About Grace. And he needed to stop because he was still aware of that warmth of something that felt good but now it was coming from remembering something Grace had said. The way she had tried to convince him that he had no valid reason to feel guilty over Nina’s death—as if she really cared about how he felt.

Charles tapped the pile of papers in front of him. ‘I’m up to my eyeballs in statistics. What are you up to?’

‘I need a portable ultrasound to check a stab wound for underlying damage. It looks superficial but I want to make absolutely sure.’ Miranda looked around. ‘They seem to have gone walkabout.’

Charles glanced towards the glass board where patient details were constantly updated to keep track of where people were and what was going on. Who could be currently using ultrasound to help a diagnosis?

‘It could be in with the abdo pain in Curtain Two.’

‘Thanks. I’ll check.’ Miranda turned her head as she moved away. ‘How are the party plans going? Do we get an invitation this year?’

Charles shook his head but offered an apologetic smile. ‘I’m keeping it low-key. I’m taking them to visit the grandparents the next day for afternoon tea and I’m sure you’ll be invited as well, but my neighbours have said they’d be delighted to have an in-house trick or treat happen on the actual birthday and that’s probably as much excitement as two three-year-olds can handle.’

Miranda’s nod conveyed understanding of the need to keep the celebration private. She’d seen photographs of the Davenport extravaganzas of years past, before she’d become a part of the family—when there had been bouncy castles, magicians and even ponies or small zoos involved.

Buying into Halloween was a big step forward this year but there was going to be a nursery school parade so the costumes were essential. Charles found himself staring again at the curtain that Grace was behind. Hadn’t she said something about finding a costume for Houston? Maybe she’d found a good costume shop.

And maybe Houston could join in the fun? The boys loved that dog and he could be an addition to the private party that would delight them rather than overwhelm them, like a full-on Davenport gathering had the potential to do.

Grace would have to be invited, too, of course, but that wasn’t a big deal. Somehow, the intrigue about what had happened to change her had overridden any internal warning about spending time with her. He wanted an answer to the puzzle and getting a little closer was the only way he was going to solve the mystery. Close enough to be friends—like he and Miranda had become all those years ago—but nothing more. And that wouldn’t be a problem. The barrier to anything more was so solid he wouldn’t have the first idea how to get past it.

And he didn’t want to. Even the reminder that that barrier was there was enough to send him back to safe territory and Charles spent the next fifteen minutes focused on the graphs he needed to analyse.

But then Grace appeared from the cubicle and headed straight to the computer closest to where he was sitting. It was tempting to say something totally inappropriate, like asking her whether she might be available for a while in two days’ time, to go trick or treating but this wasn’t the time or place. It was a bit of a shock, in fact, that the urge was even there. So out of character that it wasn’t at all difficult to squash.

‘Looking for results?’

‘Yep. White blood count and creatinine should be available by now. I’ve got cultures, throat swabs and urine pending.’

‘More than a viral illness, then?’

Grace didn’t seem surprised that he was aware of which patient she was dealing with.

‘I think she’s got staphylococcal toxic shock syndrome. Sixteen years old.’

Charles blinked. It was a rare thing to see these days, which meant that it could be missed until it was late enough for the condition to be extremely serious.

‘Signs and symptoms?’

‘High fever, vomiting and diarrhoea, muscle aches, a widespread rash that looks like sunburn. She’s also hypotensive. Seventy-five over thirty and she’s onto her second litre of fluid resus.’ Grace flicked him a glance. ‘She also finished her period two days ago and likes to leave her tampons in overnight.’

Charles could feel his mouth twisting into a lopsided smile. An impressed one. That was the key question that needed to be asked and could be missed. But not by Grace Forbes, apparently.

‘Any foreign material left? Had she forgotten to take a tampon out?’

‘No, but I still think I’m right.’ Grace clicked a key. ‘Yes... Her white count’s sky high. So’s her creatinine, which means she’s got renal involvement. Could be septic shock from another cause but that won’t change the initial management.’

‘Plan?’

‘More fluids, vasopressor support to try and get her BP up. And antibiotics, of course.’

‘Flucloxacillin?’

‘Yes. And I’ll add in clindamycin. There’s good evidence that it’s effective in decreasing toxin production.’ Grace looked past Charles to catch the attention of one of the nursing staff. ‘Amy, could you see if there’s a bed available in ICU, please? I’ve got a patient that’s going to need intensive monitoring for a while.’

‘On it, Dr Forbes.’ The nurse reached for the phone.

Grace was gone, too, back to her patient. Charles gave up on the statistics. He would take them home and do his work later tonight, in those quiet hours after the boys were asleep. He was due to go and collect them soon, anyway.

Maybe he should give up on the idea of inviting Grace and Houston to join their party, too. He could give his boys everything they needed. He could take them out later today and let them choose the costumes they wanted themselves.

A sideways glance showed that Amy had finished her urgent arrangements for Grace’s patient. She noticed his glance.

‘Anything you need, Dr Davenport?’

He smiled at her. ‘Not unless you happen to know of a good costume shop in this part of town?’

* * *

It seemed like every shop between Manhattan Mercy and home had decorated their windows for Halloween and it made Grace smile, despite her weariness after a couple of such busy days at work, to see the jack-o’-lanterns and ghosts and plastic spiders hanging on fluffy webs.

She’d missed this celebration in Australia.

As she turned towards the more residential area, there were groups of children already out, too, off to do their trick or treating in the late afternoon. So many excited little faces peeping out from beneath witches’ hats or lions’ ears, dancing along in pretty dresses with fairy wings on their backs or proudly being miniature superheroes.

What a shame that Charles hadn’t taken her up on her subtle offer to share Halloween with him and his boys. She’d been thinking about him all day, and wondering just how difficult it had been for him when he had to be reliving every moment of this day three years ago when the twins had been born and he’d lost the love of his life.

Her heart was aching for Charles all over again, as she let herself into the apartment building, so it came as a surprise to hear a peal of laughter echoing down the tiled stairway with its wrought-iron bannisters.

The laughter of small people. And a deeper rumble of an adult male.

Grace paused in the foyer, looking upwards, and was rewarded by a small face she recognised instantly, peering down through the rails. His head was covered by a brown hood that had small round ears.

‘Gace... Look at us...’

‘I can’t see you properly, Max.’

The face disappeared but she could still hear him.

‘Daddy... Daddy...we have to visit Gace now...’

And there they were, coming down the stairs. Charles had hold of each twin’s hand to keep them steady. In their other hands, the boys clutched a small, orange, plastic bucket shaped like a pumpkin. She could see plenty of candy in each bucket.

The brown hoods were part of a costume that covered them from head to toe.

‘You’re monkeys.’ Grace grinned. ‘But...where are your tails?’

The twins gave her a very patient look.

Charles gave her a shadow of a wink. ‘Curious George doesn’t have a tail,’ he explained.

‘Oh...’

‘Trick or treat!’ Cameron shouted. He bounced up and down on small padded feet. ‘We want candy...’

‘Please,’ Charles admonished. ‘Where are your manners, buddy?’

‘Please!’ It was Max who was first to comply.

‘Grace might not have any candy. Maybe we could just say “hi” to Horse?’

‘Actually, I do have some candy.’ Grace smiled at Charles. ‘I have a personal weakness for M&M’S. Would they be suitable?’

‘A very small packet?’ Charles was smiling back at her but looking slightly haunted. ‘We already have enough candy to last till Christmas.’

‘They’re tiny boxes.’ Grace pulled her keys from her bag. ‘Come on in. Horse will be so happy to see you.’

Charles had probably been in this apartment before, visiting Stefan and Jerome, but he hadn’t come in since Grace had taken over and it felt like a huge step forward somehow. The huge, modern spaces had felt rather empty and totally not her style, although she was slowly getting used to them. With two small boys rolling around on the floor with Houston and Charles following her into the kitchen, it suddenly felt far more like a home.

‘Let me open the French doors so that Houston can get out into the garden. It’s been an hour or two since Kylie took him out for his last walk.’ Grace headed for the pantry next, where she knew the big bag still had plenty of the small boxes of candy-covered chocolate she kept for an after-dinner treat.

She had a bottle of wine in the fridge, too. Would it be a step too far to offer one to Charles? She wanted to ask how the day had gone because she knew that she would be able to see past any cheerful accounts and know how hard it had really been. But she could see that anyway. Charles was looking tired and his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

And she wasn’t about to get the chance to say anything, because his phone was ringing. He took the call, keeping an eye on the children, who were now racing around the garden with the dog, as he listened and then started firing questions.

‘Who’s there? How long ago did you activate Code Red?’

Grace caught her breath. ‘Code Red’ was a term used in Manhattan Mercy’s ER to indicate that the level of patient numbers was exceeding the resources the department had to deal with them. Like a traffic light that was not functioning correctly, a traffic jam could ensue and, with patients, it meant that urgent treatment could be delayed and fatalities could result.

He listened a moment longer. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

‘I can go back,’ Grace offered as he ended the call. She could get there in less than ten minutes and she was still in her scrubs—she wouldn’t even need to get changed.

But Charles shook his head. ‘It’s the administrative side that needs management. I’ll have to go in.’ He looked out at the garden. ‘I can take the boys.’

This time, it was Grace who shook her head. ‘Don’t be daft. I’ll look after them.’

Charles looked stunned by the offer. ‘But...’

‘But, nothing. I’ll take them back up to your apartment. That way I can feed them. Or get them to bed if you end up being late. Is it okay if I take Houston up, too?’

‘Of course...but...are you sure, Grace? They’re going to get tired and cranky after the day they’ve had.’

Grace held his gaze. ‘Go,’ she said quietly. ‘And don’t worry about them. They’ll be safe.’

For a heartbeat, she saw the shadows on his face lift as his smile very definitely reached his eyes.

‘Thank you,’ was all Charles said but it felt like she was the one who was being given something very special.

Trust?