Waves of Temptation. Marion Lennox

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call him unless there was genuine need. She met him as the lift opened.

      ‘Two boys,’ Beth told him, falling in beside him, walking fast, using this time to get him up to speed. ‘They’re surfers who hit each other mid-ride. The youngest is a local, fourteen years old, concussion and query broken arm. It’s the other I’m worrying about. Seventeen, American, part of the competition. Compound fracture of the femoral shaft, and I suspect a compromised blood supply. I’ve called Caroline—she’s on her way.’

      Caroline Isram was their vascular surgeon but Matt knew she was still in Theatre.

      ‘He’ll need both your skills if we’re going to save the leg,’ Beth said. ‘Oh, and, Matt?’

      ‘Yeah?’

      ‘Coincidence or not? His surname’s Eveldene.’

      ‘Coincidence. I don’t know any seventeen-year-old surfer.’

      * * *

      Kelly was seated by the bed in Cubicle Five, holding Jess’s hand. It said a lot for how badly he was hurt that he let her.

      He had enough painkillers on board to be making him drowsy but he was still hurting. She was holding his hand tightly, willing him to stay still. The colour of his leg was waxing and waning. She’d done everything she could to align his leg but the blood supply was compromised.

      Dear God, let there be skilled surgeons in this hospital. Dear God, hurry.

      ‘They say the orthopaedic surgeon’s on his way,’ she whispered. ‘The emergency doctor, Beth, says he’s the best in Australia. He’ll set your leg and you’ll be good as new.’ Please.

      ‘But I’ll miss the championships,’ Jess moaned, refusing to be comforted.

      The championships were the least of their problems, Kelly thought grimly. There was a real risk he’d lose a lot more. Please, let this guy be good.

      And then the curtains opened and her appalling day got even worse.

      * * *

      The last time Matt had seen his brother alive Jess had been in drug rehab. He’d looked thin, frightened and totally washed out.

      The kid on the trolley when Matt hauled back the curtain was...Jess.

      For a moment he couldn’t move. He stared down at the bed and Jessie’s eyes gazed back at him. The kid’s damp hair, sun-bleached, blond and tangled, was spreadeagled on the pillow around him. His green eyes were wide with pain. His nose and his lips showed traces of white zinc, but the freckles underneath were all Jessie’s.

      It was all Matt could do not to buckle.

      Ghosts didn’t exist.

      They must. This was Jessie.

      ‘This is Mr Eveldene, our chief orthopaedic surgeon,’ Beth was telling the kid brightly. The situation was urgent, they all knew it, but Beth was taking a moment to reassure and to settle the teenager. ‘Matt, this is Jessie Eveldene. He has the same surname as yours, isn’t that a coincidence? Jess is from Hawaii, part of the pro-surf circuit, and he’s seventeen. And this is his mum, Kelly. Kelly’s not your normal spectator mum. She was Jessie’s treating doctor on the beach. She’s established circulation, she’s put the leg in a long leg splint and she’s given initial pain relief.’

      He was having trouble hearing. His head was reeling. What were the odds of a kid called Jessie Eveldene turning up in his hospital? What were the odds such a kid would look like Jess?

      Sure, this kid was a surfer and all surfers had similar characteristics. Bleached hair. Zinc on their faces. But...but...

      The kid’s green eyes were Jessie’s eyes, and they were looking at him as Jess’s had looked that last time.

      Make the pain go away.

      Focus on medicine, he told himself harshly. This wasn’t his older brother. This was a kid with a compromised blood supply. He flipped the sheet over the leg cradle and it was all he could do not to wince. The undamaged foot was colourless. He touched the ankle, searching for a pulse. Intermittent. Dangerously weak.

      ‘We took X-rays on the way in,’ Beth told him. ‘Comminuted fracture. That means there’s more than one break across the leg,’ she said, for Jessie’s benefit. ‘Matt, he needs your skill.’

      He did. The leg was a mess. The compound fracture had been roughly splinted into position but he could see how it had shattered. Splinters of bone were protruding from the broken skin.

      ‘Blood flow was compromised on impact,’ Beth said softly. ‘Luckily Jess has one awesome mum. It seems Kelly was on duty as surf doctor. She went out on a jet ski and got Jess’s leg aligned almost before they reached the shore. The time completely without blood couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.’

      So it was possible he’d keep his leg. Thanks to this woman.

      He glanced at her again.

      Kelly?

      It was impossible to reconcile this woman with the Kelly he’d met so briefly all those years ago. This couldn’t possibly be her.

      But then her eyes met his. Behind her eyes he saw pain and distress, but also...a hint of steel.

      Kelly. A woman he’d blamed...

      ‘Well done,’ he said briefly, because that was all he could think of to say. Then he turned back to the boy. If they had a chance of keeping this leg, he had to move fast. ‘Beth, we need an ultrasound, right away. Tell Caroline this is priority. This blood flow seems fragile. Jess...’ He had to force himself to say the name. ‘Jess, you’ve made a dog’s breakfast of this leg.’

      ‘Dog’s breakfast?’ Jess queried cautiously.

      ‘Dog’s breakfast,’ Matt repeated, and summoned a grin. ‘Sorry, I forgot you were a foreigner.’ Gruesome humour often helped when treating teens, and he needed it now. The anaesthetist needed Jess settled—and he needed to settle himself. ‘It’s slang. A working dog’s breakfast is usually a mess of leftovers. That’s what this looks like.’

      ‘Ugh,’ Jess said, and Matt firmed his grin.

      ‘Exactly. We need to pin it back together and make sure enough blood gets through to your toes. That means surgery, straight away.’

      The kid’s sense of humour had been caught despite the pain. ‘Cool...cool description,’ he said bravely. ‘Do you reckon someone could take a picture so I can put it on Facebook? My mates will think “dog’s breakfast” is sick.’

      ‘Sure,’ Beth said easily. She’d stepped back to snap orders into her phone but she resurfaced to smile. Beth had teenage boys of her own. Priority one, Facebook. Priority two, fixing a leg. She waved her phone. ‘I’ll snap it now if that’s okay with your mum. But then it’s Theatre to make you beautiful again.’

      ‘If your mother agrees,’ Matt said.

      Jess’s mother. Kelly. Doctor in charge at the world surf championships.

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