Читать книгу Emergency At Bayside - Carol Marinelli - Страница 7

‘IT’S all right Meg. We’re going to get you out of there just as soon as we can.’ The familiar voice of Ken Holmes, one of the paramedics Meg knew from her time in Emergency, was the first that welcomed her back to the world.

Everything was familiar: the hard collar holding her neck in position, the probe attached to her ear measuring her oxygen saturation. Meg had been out to many motor vehicle accidents with the Mobile Accident Unit and she knew the routine, knew all the equipment that was being used down to the last detail. But the familiarity brought no comfort. None at all.

The morning sun shone painfully into her eyes, and only then did Meg begin to realise the precariousness of her situation. Her car, or what was left of it, was embedded into the trunk of a huge tree. Its ominous creaking, Meg knew, was a sign of its instability. She sat there angled backwards, watching a massive chain slowly tightening around the trunk, and felt a huge jolt as the chain took up the last piece of slack. Every bone in her body seemed to be aching, her tongue felt swollen and sore, and she could taste blood at the back of her throat.

‘How much longer until we can free her?’ A deep voice from behind her left ear was calling out.

A deep voice that most definitely wasn’t familiar.

It was the first time Meg had realised someone was actually in the car with her.

‘They’re still trying to secure the tree. More equipment’s on the way.’ Ken’s voice was calm and even, but Meg could hear the undercurrent of urgency.

‘How long?’ She heard the edge of impatience in the deep voice and the hesitancy in Ken’s before he answered.

‘Twenty minutes—half an hour at most.’

‘I want to get another IV line into her and check her injuries. Ken, you come and hold her head. I’ll get into the front beside her.’

‘Do you want to wait for the rest of the equipment before you move?’ Again an ominous note was evident in Ken’s voice.

‘No. Do you?’ There was no scorn in the strange voice, no impatience now, and if Meg hadn’t quite grasped the danger she was in, hearing Ken being given a choice served to ram home just how vulnerable her situation was.

But Ken didn’t miss a beat. ‘I’ll come in round the other side.’

‘Good man.’

Her fuddled mind fought to recognise the masculine voice that was calmly giving out orders as Ken moved into the back and took over holding her head, while her unknown companion climbed over the passenger seat and into what was left of the seat beside her. It took for ever; every tiny movement seemed to ricochet through her body. Unable to move, all Meg could do was listen: listen to his heavy breathing and the occasional curse as a branch or piece of mangled metal halted his progress.

‘It’s Meg, isn’t it?’

She tried to nod, but the hard collar didn’t allow for movement. Opening her mouth a fraction, Meg tried to talk. But her mouth simply wouldn’t obey her. He seemed to recognise her distress in an instant. ‘It’s okay. Don’t try to talk. My name is Flynn Kelsey. I’m a doctor, and I’m just going to put a needle into your hand so we can give you some more fluids before we move you out.’

He was talking in layman’s terms and Meg realised he didn’t know that she was a nurse. He probably assumed the paramedics had got her name from her driver’s licence or a numberplate check. It was funny how her mind seemed to be focussing on the tiniest, most irrelevant details. Funny how her mind simply wouldn’t allow her to take in the horror of her own situation, trapped and helpless in her precariously positioned car.

Through terrified eyes she watched Flynn Kelsey as he set to work. He was a big man, and the small area that had been cut away was fairly restrictive, but he didn’t seem bothered by the confined space. The only concession he made was to take off the hard orange hat he was wearing before he set to work quietly. She searched his face, taking in his grey eyes, the high, chiselled cheekbones, the straight black hair neatly cut. Though he was clean shaven, she could see the dusting of new growth on his strong jaw.

Occasionally he would shift out of focus, her immobilised head making it impossible for her to follow him, but through it all Meg felt him beside her. Felt the steadying presence of his touch, the gentle reassurance of his regular breathing. Shifting into view again, for a second his cool grey eyes caught her petrified ones and he gave her a reassuring smile. Only the appearance of another flask of fluid indicated to Meg that the IV bung was already in; a scratch in the back of her hand was small fry compared to the agony everywhere else.

‘We’re going to be here for a little while yet.’

‘Why can’t they get me out now?’ It was the first time she had spoken and her voice was husky and strained, no more than a whisper, really, and Flynn had to move his head closer to catch her words.

‘Once the car’s a bit more secure we can get you out.’

Which didn’t answer the question. His careful evasion only scared Meg more.

Watching her closely, Flynn registered her deep intake of breath, saw her eyes screw tightly shut.

He recognised her terror.

‘You’re a lady that likes the truth, huh?’ He paused for a moment before continuing, ‘Your car came off the road at Elbow’s Bend—do you know it?’ Meg did know it; she knew it only too well. The sharp bend of road, cut into the rocks, was a favourite lookout point, and, if her memory served her correctly, the only view was that of the bay a hundred metres below. ‘Luckily a couple of trees broke your fall, and we’re on a nice sturdy ledge which has given us all a bit of room to work.’

She could hear her teeth involuntarily chattering as Flynn continued talking in quiet calm tones. ‘The trees are holding the car and the firefighters have secured us; we’re fine for now, but until the rest of the equipment arrives it’s probably safer not to try moving you.’

He didn’t add just how tenuous her position had been before the emergency services had arrived— didn’t casually throw in how both he and Ken had literally put their lives on the line by climbing into the car to be with her.

He didn’t have to; Meg had been out to enough accidents to know the score.

‘You’re going to be okay.’

‘Stay,’ she croaked, her eyes still screwed tightly shut.

‘Oh, I’m not going anywhere; you’re stuck with me for a good while yet. Do you know where you are?’

It seemed a silly question, especially given what he had just told her, but Meg knew he was testing her neurological status. ‘In my car.’ Her voice sounded gravelly, shaky. ‘Or what’s left of it.’

‘That’s right.’ He squeezed her hand as she started to cry. ‘But it’s only a car; you’re what’s important here. Do you remember what happened? Can you remember what caused the accident?’ He watched the tears squeezing out of her closed eyes and, realising he was distressing her further, decided instead to try a different tack. ‘We’ll go through it all later, at the hospital. Let’s talk about nicer things. Tell me about yourself, Meg.’

She tried to shake her head, but the collar and Ken held it still. ‘I’m tired.’

‘Come on, Meg. If I’m going to stay with you, the least you can do is talk to me.’ His voice was sharp, forcing her out of her slumber. ‘Have you got a husband? A boyfriend? Tell me about him?’

‘We broke up.’

‘Ouch.’ He gave a low laugh. ‘Trust me to say the wrong thing.’

Her eyes opened a fraction, wincing at the bright morning sun glimpsed through the broken tree. Golden-brown eyes, he noticed, almost amber in the bright sunlight, thick black eyelashes framing them, glistening with a new batch of tears. She turned her amber headlights to him. ‘He was cheating.’

That was a simple way of putting it, but she was too tired and it was all just too damn complicated to explain.

‘Then he’s a fool.’ Flynn said decisively. ‘Forget him.’

‘That’s what I’m working on.’

Flynn laughed. He was shining a pupil torch in her eyes now. ‘I meant while you’re stuck here. Think of something you really like. I’m not suggesting anything this time; I’d probably just put my foot in it again. What cheers you up?’

She didn’t answer; frankly she couldn’t be bothered. Closing her eyes, Meg wished he would just go away, leave her alone to rest a while.

‘Meg!’

Reluctantly she opened her eyes. ‘I’m tired.’

‘And I’m bored. Come on, Meg—talk to me. If I’ve got to sit here with you, the very least you can do is entertain me.’

‘The beach.’ Running her tongue over her dry bloodstained lips, Meg cleared her throat as best she could. ‘I like going to the beach.’

‘Do you live near it?’

‘Not really.’ She was really tired now, her eyelids growing heavy again, the need to sleep overwhelming.

‘A bit too expensive, isn’t it? Come on, Meg, stay awake. Stay with me here and tell me about the beach.’

‘Mum and Dad…’

‘Do they live near the beach?’

‘On the beach,’ she corrected

‘And I bet you’re round there more often than not?’

She actually managed a small laugh. ‘Mum says I use the hotel…’ No, that wasn’t right. Everything was coming out muddled. Meg forced herself to concentrate. ‘I use the house like…’ She never finished her sentence, her eyes gently closing as she gave up trying to explain.

‘Like a hotel?’ The torch was blasting back in her eyes now. ‘I bet you do. So, come on, what do when you go to the beach? Body surf? Water ski?’ There was a tinge of urgency creeping into his voice. ‘Open your eyes and tell me what you do at the beach, Meg!’

The sun was shining brightly when she did, warm and delicious. The same sun that warmed her when she sunbathed, the same birds chirping, the same lazy, hazy feeling as she stretched out on a towel and drifted off. Closing her eyes, feeling its warmth, she could almost hear the ocean, almost imagine she was lying on the soft sand, listening to the children patting sandcastles into shape. The hum of the firefighters’ drill was almost a perfect Jet Ski in the distance…

‘Meg!’ It was him again, breaking into her dream, utterly refusing to leave her be. ‘What do you do at the beach?’

‘I sleep.’

She heard him half-laugh, half-curse. ‘She’s practically hypnotised herself here, Ken. Tell them to step on it.’

Whether it was Flynn’s insistence or whether the tree was finally secured Meg didn’t know, but suddenly the ‘jaws of life’ were peeling the roof off her car as easily as the foil top on a yoghurt carton. The noise was deafening, the movement terrifying, but through it all Flynn was beside her, holding her hand, soothing her with his presence, until finally a firefighter appeared above them, giving the thumbs-up sign. For the last hour all Meg had wished for was to be free from the mangled wreckage, but now the moment was here suddenly she was scared again.

Bracing herself for movement, she gripped Flynn’s hand tighter. ‘It’s going to hurt.’

‘You’re going to be fine. Once you’re in the ambulance, and I’ve checked you over, I’ll give you something for pain.’

‘Promise?’

He gave her a smile. ‘Trust me.’ He was easing his fingers out of her grip. ‘I’m just going around to your other side so I can support your head as they bring you out. I’ll speak to you again in the ambulance.’

And with that she had to be content.

He held her head as they skilfully lifted her, taking charge from the top as they started the slow, painstaking ascent back to the road, relaying his orders in clear, direct tones, carefully ensuring that her neck never moved out of alignment, assuming at all times the worst-case scenario: until an X-ray showed no fracture of her neck it was safer to assume that she had one. And though Meg had never been more scared in her life, never been in more pain, amazingly she felt safe, knew that she was in good hands— literally.

Strong hands gently lowered her onto the cool crisp sheets on the stretcher, and she felt the bumps as they wheeled her to the awaiting ambulance. Fragments of the conversations between the police and the firefighters reached her as they jolted along.

‘…no skid marks…’

‘…the witness said she just veered straight off.’

‘…just finished a night shift…’

It was the type of conversation Meg heard nearly every working day, the tiny pieces of a jigsaw that would painstakingly be put together, adding up the chain of events that had led to an accident. Only this time it was about her.

As they lifted her into the ambulance and secured the stretcher she ran a tongue over her dry bloodstained lips.

‘Where’s Flynn?’

Ken patted her arm. ‘He’ll be here in a moment.’

‘He said he’d be here.’ Suddenly it seemed imperative that she see Flynn and tell him what had happened.

‘Just give him a moment, Meg, he’s had a rough morning.’ Ken’s words made no sense. She was the patient, after all, and the way Ken was talking it sounded as if Flynn was the one who was upset.

‘What’s she moaning about now?’ It was Flynn again, a touch paler and a bit grey-looking, but with the same easy smile and a slight wink as he teased her.

‘Are you all right?’

Meg opened her mouth to answer but realised that Ken’s question had actually been directed to Flynn.

Flynn muttered something about a ‘dodgy pie’ and, after accepting a mint from Ken, again shone the beastly pupil torch back into her eyes.

‘She’s in a lot of pain, Flynn.’ Ken was speaking as he checked her blood pressure. ‘All her obs are stable. Do you want to head off to the hospital now?’

‘I’ll just have a quick look first.’ Whipping out his stethoscope, he gently moved it across her bruised, tender ribcage. ‘Good air entry,’ he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. ‘Is it hurting a lot, Meg?’

‘I didn’t…’ Her voice was merely a croak, but it was enough to stop Flynn listening to her chest. Pulling his stethoscope out of his ears, he bent his head forward.

‘What was that, Meg?’

‘I didn’t fall…’ But she couldn’t finish her sentence. Huge tears were welling in her eyes, sobs preventing her from going further as the emotion of the morning, now she was free from the wreckage, finally hit home.

‘It’s all right, Meg. Don’t try and talk. You’re safe now. I’m going to give you something for the pain.’ His lips were set in a grim line and she could see the beads of sweat on his forehead, but Flynn’s voice was kind and assured as he continued talking. ‘The main thing is that you’re safe.’ His grey eyes seemed to be boring into her, and Meg found that she couldn’t tear her own away. Even as the sirens wailed into life and the ambulance moved off she found herself still holding his gaze, her eyelids growing heavy as the drug he had injected took effect and oblivion descended.

* * *

‘Meg O’Sullivan, we weren’t expecting you till tonight. Don’t tell me: you just can’t stay away from the place.’ Jess chatted away good-humouredly, her Irish accent thick and strong, as the team lifted her onto the trolley. There was nothing Emergency staff dreaded more than being wheeled into their own department, but unfortunately it happened now and then, and the staff dealt with it with a very special brand of humour—intimate, yet professional.

‘Perhaps she’s checking up on you.’ Ken Holmes carried on the joke as they swapped the paramedics’ monitors and equipment for the emergency department’s own.

‘Or…’ Jess smiled as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Meg’s bruised arm ‘…she decided that she did want to meet the new consultant after all.’

‘She works here?’ Apart from leading the count as they’d lifted her over it was the first time Flynn had spoken since they had arrived in the unit.

‘She does.’ Fifty milligrams of Pethidine on top of a sleepless night had not only controlled her pain but also taken away every last piece of Meg’s reserve, and her comment came out rather more sarcastically than intended. She saw his perfectly arched eyebrow raise just a fraction as he skilfully palpated her abdomen.

‘And what is it you do here, Meg?’

‘The same as Jess.’

‘And what does Jess do?’

God, why all the questions? All she wanted to do was sleep. Closing her eyes, she ignored him, but Flynn hadn’t finished yet.

‘Meg, what job do you do here?’ His voice was sharp, dragging her out of her slumber.

‘I’m a nurse,’ she answered reluctantly. Maybe now he’d leave her alone.

‘What day is it today?’

The interrogation obviously wasn’t over. He was testing her reflexes now, lifting her legs slightly and tapping at her knees as he repeated the question. ‘Come on, Meg, what day is it today?’

‘Pay day.’

Jess laughed. ‘It is too. Thank God,’ she added. ‘My credit card bill is crashing through the roof. Now, come on, Meg—tell the good doctor here what day it is so he can get off to his welcome breakfast.’

‘Tuesday.’ No, that was yesterday. Meg always got mixed up when she was doing nights. ‘Wednesday,’ she said, more definitely. ‘Today is Wednesday.’

The same small affirmative nod he had used at the accident scene was repeated and Meg gave a relieved sigh.

‘Do you remember what happened yet?’

‘I had an accident.’

Flynn gave her a thin smile. ‘You certainly did. I meant before the accident. Do you remember what caused it?’

She opened her mouth to answer, to tell him exactly what had happened in the hope of finally being allowed to rest, but as she tried to explain Meg felt as if she was trying to recall a dream. Little flashes of the morning would pop into her head, rather like watching a photo develop, but before the picture appeared it would vanish again, and no matter how she fought to remember the images just slipped away.

‘Can you remember?’ His voice was gentle, as if he realised how much she was struggling.

‘No.’ The simple word terrified her.

‘You will. Just give it time, Meg.’

Turning to Jess, Meg listened as Flynn ordered what seemed an inordinate amount of tests. ‘We’ll get her over for a C. spine and head CT now, and I want one of her abdomen. She’s tender over the spleen. Chest and abdo films, and I want those bloods back from the lab stat, in case she needs a transfusion. It might be better to pop in a catheter.’

‘No.’ This time the simple word was said much more forcefully, and Flynn and Jess both turned to her simultaneously. ‘No,’ she repeated. ‘I’m not having a catheter.’

‘Okay.’ Flynn relented. ‘But if you haven’t passed urine in the next hour I’m getting one put in.’ He turned back to Jess. ‘Obviously keep her nil by mouth for now. I’d best go and do a quick duty speech, and then I’ll be back to check on her. Call me in the meantime if you’re in the least concerned.’

He came over to the trolley then and looked down at her, her hair fanning out on the pillow, knotted and full of glass, streaks of blood on her cheeks and her lips bruised and swollen. Yet there was an air of dignity about her, coupled with a wary, but somehow superior look that brought the beginning of a smile to his lips. ‘And try not to give her any more Pethidine. I want to do a full neuro assessment when I get back.’

‘Are you going?’ It was a strange question, one Meg couldn’t believe she had just asked.

‘Just for a little while, then I’ll be back to review you.’ That seemed to placate her, and she relaxed back onto the pillow. ‘If you’re very good Jess and I might even save you a Danish pastry.’ He smiled then, properly, for the first time since their eventful meeting.

It was like being rescued all over again.

Closing her eyes, his face still etched in her bruised, muddled mind, Meg let sleep finally wash over and, utterly oblivious to the world, even the hourly neuro obs the staff performed at regular intervals, she slept through what was left of the day.

* * *

‘She’s waking up.’

‘Leave her, Kathy. The nurse said not to disturb her.’ Mary O’Sullivan’s voice had that sharp warning edge that would have sent Meg scuttling straight back to her chair, but it had little or no effect on her sister.

‘That was two hours ago. I just want to see she’s all right for myself.’

‘Do as your mother says, Kathy.’ Ted O’Sullivan had as little impact on Kathy as his wife, and as Meg came to it was to the all too familiar strains of her family bickering.

Kathy stood there peering anxiously over her. ‘You’re awake.’ Kathy’s eyes filled with tears as she looked down at her big sister.

‘No thanks to you,’ Mary interjected. ‘Can you not obey a simple order, Kathy? The nurse said to leave her be.’

‘Hello, Mum,’ Meg croaked. ‘Sorry for all the trouble.’

‘No trouble—apart from a coronary when the police came to the door.’ Mary’s attempt at a joke felt more like a telling off, and Meg closed her eyes again, the bright lights of the Emergency observation ward too much for her fragile head. ‘Are you all right, pet?’

Keeping her eyes closed, Meg nodded. Now the collar was off at least she was able to do that. It was about the only thing she could do; her chest felt as if a bus was sitting on it. Mary fussed and chatted for a while, but Meg could almost sense her relief when six o’clock came and her mother had a valid reason to go home.

‘That lovely Irish nurse, Jess, has kept us up to date. She’s away home now, to her husband, but she said that you were to rest as much as possible. Now that you’ve come to, I might get your father home for his dinner. His insulin was due half an hour ago. I’ll be back in first thing tomorrow and we’ll ring the ward tonight.’

Again Meg sensed the sting of disapproval.

‘Are you coming, Kathy?’

‘No.’ Meg felt the bed move as Kathy perched herself on it. ‘I’ll stay with her. Jake can always give me a lift later.’

‘She was only joking about the police,’ Kathy said when their parents had finally gone.

‘Since when did Mum joke?’

‘There’s always a first time. I was in the hydro pool and Jess let Jake know. It was Jake that went and told her.’

Meg looked at her sister. Her uncombed, spiky blonde hair and the faint scent of chlorine certainly held up her story. ‘So the police didn’t come?’

‘No.’ Kathy laughed, but her brimming eyes belied her casual chatter. ‘Actually, you did me a favour. They’ve got a new chief of physio and the workout they were putting me through felt like an army training camp—and, despite what she says, Mum’s had a grand afternoon gossiping to Jess about the fair Emerald Isle.’

Meg attempted to smile, but it died on her lips.

‘She was upset, you know.’ Kathy squeezed Meg’s hand. ‘Really upset.’

‘And now she’s angry.’

‘You know what Mum can be like.’

Meg did know—only too well. The last few months had been a nightmare. It was bad enough finding out that your boyfriend of eighteen months, the man you’d adored, actually thought you had a future with, was in fact married. And not just married. Married to your colleague’s sister, who just happened to go to the same church as your mum. So not only had Meg felt the wrath of disapproval from her colleagues at Melbourne City Hospital, there had been the wrath of her mother to deal with.

Mary O’Sullivan wasn’t sure which was the greater of the two evils. The fact her eldest daughter had been branded a home-wrecker, or the undeniable fact that Meg wasn’t a virgin.

And now she had trashed her car.

‘I hate this year.’

‘I know, but there’s always next year.’

‘Next year will probably be just the same.’

‘It won’t.’ Kathy insisted. ‘You’ve got a new job, new friends, a whole new start. All you have to do is loosen up a bit.’

‘Loosen up?’

‘Try letting people in. It’s a nice world out there. I know Vince hurt you, but not all men are the same.’

Just the mention of his name bought forth a whole fresh batch of tears. Meg hadn’t cried since the day they broke up, and certainly not in front of anyone, but the egg on her head combined with the pain in her chest was such a horrible combination that for once crying came naturally.

‘I’ve got some news that might cheer you up,’ Kathy said desperately. Seeing her sister, who never cried, sobbing in the bed was torture. ‘How do you fancy being a bridesmaid?’

Like a tap being turned off, Meg instantly stopped crying, her eyes swinging round to her sister.

‘You’re engaged?’

‘I have been for…’ Kathy glanced at her watch. ‘Twenty hours now. He asked me last night.’

‘Who, Jake?’

Kathy gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘No, the tram conductor. Of course it’s Jake. Who else?’

‘What does Mum have to say about it?’ Meg asked slowly.

‘Well, the fact we want to get married so quickly— on Valentine’s Day, actually—led to a few sticky questions, but we’ve finally managed to convince her that it’s not a shotgun wedding. We’re just head over heels and want to do it as soon as possible. She’s tickled pink, actually, and insisting that we have an engagement party. But I’ve told her that the most we want is a casual dinner.’

Meg gave a wry laugh. ‘So no doubt she’ll spend tomorrow on the telephone, ringing up hundreds of relatives.’

‘Probably,’ Kathy conceded. ‘But after she’s been in to see you, of course,’ she added hastily. ‘Whoops, look like I’d better make myself scarce—here comes Flynn now.’

Meg screwed up her forehead. ‘Flynn? Do you know him?’

‘He’s a friend of Jake’s…’ As Flynn approached the bed Kathy’s voice trailed off.

‘Good evening, Meg—Kathy.’ He gave her sister a friendly nod.

‘Hi, Flynn. I’ll leave you to it; see you in the morning, Sis.’ Popping a quick kiss on Meg’s cheek, Kathy limped off.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better. Well, sore but better.’ The beginning of a blush was creeping over her cheeks.

‘That’s good. You’ve had a very lucky escape, Meg, all your tests have come back as normal. Apart from a lot of bruising, which is going to hurt for a while, and a mild concussion, you’ve got off very lightly.’ He peered at his notes for a moment, and Meg watched as he fiddled uncomfortably with his pen. ‘Can you remember what happened yet?’

Meg shook her head. Normally she would have left it there, but there was something about Flynn, something about the way he had smiled at her this morning, the drama they had shared, that made her take the plunge and for the first time in ages prolong a conversation. ‘No, but I do remember you offering to save me a Danish pastry. You didn’t, by any chance, did you?’

Her attempt at small talk was instantly to her dying shame rebuffed.

‘Apparently the police seem to think that you might have fallen asleep at the wheel.’

Embarrassed at his businesslike tone, Meg felt her blush only deepen. ‘I didn’t!’

‘There were no skid marks at the scene, and apparently you were exhausted when you left this morning—though Jess told only me that, I hasten to add. I haven’t written it in my notes.’ He ran a hand through his hair, an exasperated tone creeping into his voice. ‘Why the hell didn’t you get a taxi?’

She knew he was wrong, knew somehow that the picture he was painting wasn’t how it had happened, but her total lack of recall didn’t put her in the best position to argue the point.

‘I didn’t fall asleep,’ Meg intoned.

‘The police…’

‘The police are wrong,’ she retorted quickly. ‘And anyway, it’s none of your business.’ She knew she was being rude, but something about Flynn had her acting completely out of character. The little hint about the Danish pastry, the blush that wouldn’t go away—and now she was answering him back. It wasn’t actually out of character. It was more the old Meg. The Meg before Vince had extinguished every last piece of her fiery personality.

Flynn begged to differ. ‘Oh, but it is my business, young lady. It became my business at precisely four minutes past eight this morning, when I stabilised your neck in the wreckage of your car.’ His voice was curt and formal, with no hint of the man who had held her hand just this morning, cajoled her to stay awake—who, even in the most dire of circumstances, had actually managed to make her laugh. ‘It became my business when I found out that one of the nurses in my department was so damned tired after her night shift she nearly killed herself. And,’ he added, standing over her so she had no choice but to look at him, ‘had you wiped out an entire family, no doubt it would have been left to me to deal with it. So you see, Meg—’ his lip curled around her name ‘—it is my business.’

Despite his anger, it wasn’t a no holds barred attack, Meg realised. Not once had he mentioned the very real danger he had put himself in by staying with her throughout the ordeal, and his modest omission somehow touched her.

He stood there for a moment, his eyes challenging her to respond, but she was too tired and too utterly defeated to argue. ‘Right, then. I’ve spoken to your parents, and I’m happy for you to be discharged tomorrow as long as you go and stay with them.’

‘That’s all I need,’ Meg muttered ungraciously.

‘I want the physio to see you before you go and run through some deep breathing exercises. Your chest is badly bruised and it’s important he sees you.’

‘No.’

Flynn let out an exasperated sigh.

‘The catheter I can understand your objection to— but physio, for heaven’s sake? Do you have to argue about everything?’

‘You don’t understand.’

‘So enlighten me.’

‘Jake Reece is the Emergency physio,’ Meg started, her eyes darting around the obs ward to check that Kathy had definitely gone.

‘So why is that a problem?

‘He’s marrying my sister.’

Flynn’s face broke into a grin then, and for a second he looked like the Flynn from this morning. ‘Jake and Kathy are getting married? That’s fantastic news.’ He seemed to remember she was there then, and stared at her, perplexed. ‘So why on earth don’t you want him to see you?’

‘Because, unlike you, I’m not exactly thrilled with the news.’

‘Why?’ He seemed genuinely bemused and Meg couldn’t believe that he didn’t understand how she was feeling.

‘He’s her physiotherapist, for heaven’s sake. Kathy’s handicapped. It’s wrong.’

His face changed. She saw his bemused look change to one of distaste.

‘Please don’t try to tell me that you’re so politically correct you haven’t even noticed.’

‘Of course I’ve noticed. Kathy has also told me about it herself. Unlike you, she doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. From what I can remember of our conversation, she has mild cerebral palsy from birth, which has left her with a limp and a minor speech impediment. What she didn’t tell me, but I soon found out for myself, is that she happens to be a fun, happy, caring and very attractive woman.’

‘He’s ten years older than her.’

‘Hardly a hanging offence.’ He paused then, eyeing her carefully before continuing. ‘As you yourself pointed out, he’s her physio, not her doctor. They will have spent a lot of time together. If you got down off your high horse and actually spent some time with them, instead of judging them, you might find yourself pleasantly surprised.’

And, after signing off her discharge papers, he left her lying there.

Lying there for all the world wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.