need her—she had nowhere to go. No home, no job, friends who were too busy chasing the ladder of success to bother with a restless young woman who couldn’t settle down. No good telling them that her soul was starved. They would only laugh.
Rob was standing in the hall with Chloe in his arms, talking on the phone as she walked in. He looked worried, and as she went up the stairs she heard him say he’d be there in fifteen minutes.
He put Chloe in the kitchen with Mrs H and bounded past Jamie on the stairs, going up three at a time. He ran into his bedroom, stripping off his vest as he went, and seconds later she heard drawers slamming.
She tapped on the open bedroom door, and he glanced up, clad only in a pair of skimpy briefs. She dragged her eyes from his body, aware that this was not the time to be distracted.
‘Can I help?’ she offered quietly.
He looked at her as if she were an answer to his prayers, and nodded.
‘School bus overturned on the main road. Have you got a medical bag in your car?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Throw something on and bring it. I’ll get some syringes and some diamorphine from the dispensary, and we’ll need giving sets and some saline——’
She didn’t wait to hear the familiar list.
They met in the hall a few seconds later. He stuck his head round the kitchen door, rattled off instructions to Mrs H and joined her at the Land Rover.
‘Got the bag?’
She nodded.
‘Come on, then.’
He drove at breakneck speed, and when they arrived she could see why. It was a scene of absolute mayhem. Terrified children clustered round each other some yards from the bus, which lay on its side at the edge of the road. As they approached, the policeman who had been first on the scene greeted them with relief.
‘Most of the kids are fine—cuts and bruises, the odd fracture—one arm, a couple of fingers. A WPC is giving them some first aid and a bit of TLC. Two children still trapped inside—both still alive, but one has head injuries and probably leg injuries, and the other has abdominal injuries from the crushed seat in front of her.’
‘Have their parents been informed?’ Rob asked tersely.
‘Doing it now. The two in the bus are apparently Stephen Watson and Trudy Douglas——’
‘Trudy?’ Rob’s face lost its colour and he closed his eyes. ‘Come on, Jamie. You come with me into the bus and we’ll see if we can get them out.’
They made their way in through the smashed windscreen, past the rows of broken seats to the two children trapped near the back. There was a policewoman crouched beside them, murmuring reassuringly to Trudy. Rob, hunched up in the cramped roof of the bus, reached Trudy first.
‘Hello, Trudy, love,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll soon have you out of here. Tell me where you hurt, hen.’
She lifted wide, terrified eyes at him and gave him a trembly little smile. ‘Hello, Dr Rob,’ she whispered. ‘I think my effluent’s oozed out; I’m all wet,’ she told him.
‘Is it just the tummy?’ he asked, and she nodded.
He quickly assessed the extent of the damage, and then turned to Jamie. ‘I’m going to have to get her out to deal with her. I think I may be able to shift the seat if you can steady her—think you can manage it? It’s a bit awkward.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ she told him. ‘This little boy’s unconscious, but his vital signs seem fairly strong. He’s trapped by the legs. I think most of the blood’s from a scalp wound.’
Rob nodded. ‘We’ll get Trudy out first before we try and move him.’
He got a line into her arm, ran in some saline and gave her a small shot of pethidine, examining the seat while it took effect. Then he positioned Jamie under Trudy so she wouldn’t fall when the seat was moved, and braced his legs against the roof and the seat behind.
‘Ready?’ he murmured, and winked at Trudy. Then he bunched his muscles and heaved, and the seat creaked up and eased steadily away. She slithered on to Jamie’s lap with a little cry, and Jamie’s arms wrapped instinctively around the brave little girl.
‘All right, sweetheart, soon have you out and comfy,’ she crooned reassuringly, as Rob gave the seat one last wrench and cleared the way. Then he stooped and lifted Trudy from her lap, and bore her tenderly out of the bus to lie on the grass outside.
It was immediately obvious that it was more than her dialysate that had leaked. Her school uniform was soaked with blood, and Rob looked desperately worried.
She met his eyes over Trudy’s body, and could have wept for them both. So much for not getting involved with one’s patients, she thought with a wry little smile.
‘Where the hell is the ambulance?’ he muttered. Just then they heard the siren blaring in the distance, and in seconds it came into view, slewing off at the side of the road. Immediately the crew leapt out and ran over.
‘Internal injuries,’ Rob said briskly. ‘It isn’t helped by the fact that she’s on CAPD.’
The ambulanceman bent over Trudy and touched the tip of her nose. ‘We know you, don’t we, pet? Old friends, aren’t we, Trudy? Coming for a ride?’
Jamie left the three of them and took the other ambulanceman to the bus. He produced some cutters which made short work of the seat and they soon had the little boy free. His legs were both broken below the knee, but he moaned as they moved him, a good sign that his unconsciousness wasn’t too deep. Jamie got in a line and cleaned up the head wound while the ambulanceman splinted both the boy’s legs and fetched a stretcher. Soon both the children were loaded into the ambulance and were away, leaving Rob and Jamie to deal with the walking wounded.
By the time the last of the children had been either sent to hospital or collected by their parents, it was ten o’clock and Rob was showing the effects of the night on call.
They drove back in silence, both preoccupied with their thoughts, and when they arrived at the house Rob led her round to the back door and up the back stairs to the landing.
The hall will be full of patients, and neither of us is exactly inspiring to look at,’ he said ruefully.
Jamie had to agree. If she looked half as bad as him …!
‘Rob, let me help you with your surgery,’ she said urgently. Those people have had a long wait already and they have work to get on with.’
He studied her in silence for a time, and then gave a weary nod. Thank you. I’ll accept—for them. See you downstairs in five minutes.’
Well, she thought, progress!
She showered rapidly, washing her hair and tying it back to dry while she tugged on a skirt and jumper and slid her feet into sandals. She went down the back way and met Mrs H in the kitchen.
‘Congratulations!’
