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‘Dr Craven, you’re needed in Resus One,’ the nurse said. ‘Patient just admitted…young child…rescued from a house fire…extensive burns to his legs. Jack Harvey is in charge.’
Anna put on a sterile gown and walked briskly into the resuscitation room.
.....
She drove home pensively. For the first time in two weeks her mind, outside working hours, was not on Liam and her broken heart. Jack’s loss had put her own pain in perspective. When Liam had left her it had felt almost like a bereavement. But, of course, she knew it wasn’t really like someone dying because that was so final, so sad. It had been three years, he’d said, since his wife’s death and still Jack had the mark of pain and suffering imprinted on his face. If seeing someone who looked like your dead wife had the power to make you react in such an obsessive and compelling manner after three years, how long was it going to take the poor man to finally get over his loss?
In some perverse way she found Jack’s situation faintly reassuring. Hopefully, she wasn’t going to be pining after Liam in three years’ time. Maybe solitary confinement wasn’t the complete answer for her. Perhaps going out with Jack could be another way of helping her in her own healing process?
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