so sure in advance, when you don’t know what they’re like in the morning, or when things go wrong and the bank gets uppity, or if your health lets you down. No matter how hard you try, sometimes it’s not possible to know all the answers.’
Evie studied her closely. ‘You sound as if you’ve been through it,’ she said softly.
Laura avoided her eyes. ‘There’s so much talked about it these days. It’s turned us all into experts! Now, I think it’s time we turned you. I’ll just get one of the other nurses to give me a hand.’
The other staff nurse on was Linda Tucker, and Laura called her over as she passed.
‘Could you give me a hand to turn Evie?’ she said.
‘Sure. Hello, darling—how are you? We’ve missed you while you were in ITU—fancy going down there, you traitor! Right, my love, let’s have you over—one, two, three—there we go.’
She helped Laura settle their patient, then left as Laura gently rubbed Evie’s bottom and hip to get the circulation going again in the skin.
Visitors were starting to arrive, and Laura warned them as they came in that they were to stay only a very few moments. Evie’s husband she allowed to stay longer, but even he taxed her strength.
Laura could see Evie flagging with the effort of being brave and cheerful, and she apologised to Mr Peacey as she asked him to leave. ‘She’s still very drowsy and sore, and needs her rest. She’ll be much better tomorrow. Why don’t you pop in and see her in the morning?’
He nodded. ‘I will—thank you, Nurse.’ He blew Evie a kiss from the door and left, and as he did Laura could see Evie crumple.
She tucked the bedclothes round her shoulders and smoothed her hair back from her damp brow. ‘You have a rest, now. Well done. I won’t let anybody else in to see you, so you can go to sleep.’
Her eyes drifted shut, and after a moment Laura realised she’d slipped quietly off. She watched her breathing, watched the silent heart trace on the monitor, and watched her patient’s face in turn. Of them all the face was the most interesting. The lines were nearly all laughter lines, but there were some, probably from pain, that were newer.
She was sixty-four, no age really, and there was certainly nothing remotely wrong with her mind. Her husband looked sad, though, a lingering sadness deep in his eyes, and a sort of suspense. It must be awful for him, too—maybe worse, because he would have to carry on after Evie had slipped away.
Laura checked the monitor again, the trace nice and steady, the respirations even if a little shallow. That was only to be expected as the abdomen was tense and so all her breathing was being done using the chest wall.
A head popped round the door. ‘Are you all right for a little while?’ Linda asked softly. ‘I’m just going for my break, so it’s only you on who’s qualified. Is that OK?’
‘So long as I don’t have to leave Evie.’
‘Someone else can always cover her if there’s a problem. I won’t be long.’
Laura nodded. ‘Leave the door open and tell the others where I am.’
There was a crisis, of course. Wasn’t there always when things were tight? Laura thought.
One of the post-ops began to look decidedly dodgy, his pulse racing, his blood pressure falling through the floor, and it looked as though he was haemorrhaging.
Laura went to investigate, reminding herself of his condition. He had had a rectal bleed, and on investigation a roughened area of rectum had been found and cauterised in a very minor procedure. He was due to go home the next day, but Laura had a funny feeling he wouldn’t be.
‘I feel so faint,’ he told her.
‘Any pain?’
‘Colicky—like diarrhoea.’ He moved, his eyes widened and he grabbed Laura’s hand. Oh, no—I think I just messed up the sheets,’ he told her. ‘Is it another bleed?’
She turned back the covers, controlled her own response to the lake of blood appearing on the bed and pressed the bell.
‘I’m afraid so. I’ll get Mr Russell to have a look at you.’
A junior nurse appeared, covered her shock admirably and looked at Laura.
‘Shall I page Tom?’ she asked.
Laura nodded. ‘Would you?’
Tom Russell was on the ward in moments, took one look at him and whisked him off to Theatre again. By the time Linda came back from her break Laura had relieved the nervous student with Evie and was back in the little room, sitting on the same chair and flicking through a magazine.
‘Everything OK?’ Linda asked cheerily.
Laura got up and went to the door, pulling it to behind her. ‘If you discount Mr Long and his bleed.’
Linda’s brows drew together in a quick frown. ‘Richard Long? The man with the ulcerated bowel? I thought they’d cauterised the suspect area?’
Laura nodded. ‘They did. He’s back in Theatre—had another bleed. It was pretty major. They’re opening him up and having a more thorough look.’
‘Oh, my lord—how is he?’ She laughed. That’s a daft question. Sorry. I suppose we’ll have to wait and find out. How’s Evie?’
‘Stable.’
‘Good. She deserves a break. Perhaps her post-op could be nice and smooth, unlike the rest of her history. Talk about Murphy’s law. If anything could have gone wrong with that sweet little lady, it has. It’s so unfair.’ Linda glanced at her watch. ‘Want to go and grab a bite? I’ll keep an eye on Evie.’
It was almost nine, hardly worth worrying about. ‘I’ll go later, after I finish. I’m not really hungry.’
‘Sure?’
She nodded.
‘I’ll go and prepare Dick Long’s bed for his return, then. I suppose he will come back.’
Laura pursed her lips. ‘I wouldn’t like to count my chickens. He looked pretty grim.’
Linda sighed. ‘I’ll check with Theatre.’
She went into the office, made the call and came back. ‘He’s in Recovery—they got to him in time. He’ll be transfused until he’s stable then returned.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Look, I’ll go and hand over to Jean Hobbs, then you can go, OK?’
Laura nodded and went back in to Evie. It was three minutes to nine. She recorded her resting pulse and respiration, took her blood pressure and checked her temperature, hardly disturbing the sleeping woman at all. As she worked she thought about her new home, and Gavin, her landlord. What would he be like?
Unobtrusive and rather fun, she thought. She couldn’t imagine him playing heavy rock all night, or drilling walls at three in the morning. More important, she didn’t feel that he was likely to put her under
