as Beryl frothed the milk. ‘Just gorgeous,’ she said with a small sigh, and Fleur was positive Beryl wasn’t referring to the coffee!
Sitting in the empty staffroom, Fleur berated herself over and over. She had been a fool to come back, a fool to think she could just walk in to her old job and carry on as if nothing had happened, when everything had changed.
It had seemed such a good idea when Kathy had first suggested it. With the government’s latest drive to encourage nurses back into the work force, job share was a concept that had been bandied around like a supposed gift from the gods. Reasonable shifts, flexible rosters, all like manna from heaven for nurses trying to juggle child care and young children. But half the pay with all the responsibility, Fleur had pointed out when Kathy had first broached the subject.
‘Come on, Fleur,’ she’d urged. ‘You said yourself, money’s a bit tight. And besides, it would do you good to get out a bit more. You know I want to cut back my hours and we’d both have built in babysitters. It’s the perfect solution. Heaven knows, they’d welcome you back with open arms—that place has really been going to pot lately. There’s just not enough senior staff and morale is really low. It would be great for everyone.’
And after a couple of glasses of wine, well, maybe more than a couple, Fleur had found herself starting to agree.
So now here she was, sitting in the staffroom feeling like the biggest failure in the world. She should never have come back, never have let Kathy talk her into it. Not only was it unfair on the staff, it was downright dangerous for the patients!
* * *
In contrast to the first half of the morning, the hand clinic ran smoothly. Danny had been right in his prediction that it would be a big clinic, and patient after patient trooped through—some bandaged, some with slings, others with their injured hands in plastic burn bags. Each hand injury seen in the department was always reviewed the following day, or in this case on the Monday following the weekend. More often than not, a simple re-dressing was all that was required, but in a few cases a more significant problem was detected on review which more than merited the manpower and time that the clinics took. Mario and Luke Richardson, the senior consultant, were both extremely experienced and zipped through the patients. It didn’t take long for Fleur to work out that Mario’s handwriting was truly appalling and it was far easier to stand behind him and listen, rather than try to decipher his extravagant scrawl after he’d seen the patient.
The next hour was spent in a flurry of taking down dressings, listening to Mario’s and Luke’s instructions and then re-dressing the injuries. Luke was friendly and professional, but as the clinic carried on Fleur couldn’t help but notice a few chips of ice in the cool blue eyes of Mario as he handed her the patients’ files. At first she tried to ignore it, sure she was being paranoid, but as the clinic progressed so did Fleur’s unease—Mario was definitely upset with her!
Without looking up, he accepted the final patient card from Fleur and read the notes for a moment before addressing the rather unkempt young man sitting at the desk.
‘So this was the result of falling off a wall, Jason?’
Fleur watched as Mario gently picked up the grossly swollen hand and examined it carefully.
‘Yeah, maybe I got a bit of gravel stuck in it. It’s killing me. That medicine the doctor gave me is useless. I don’t reckon he knew what he was talking about.’
‘I see from Dr Benson’s notes that he asked if you might have been bitten.’ Mario looked up from the hand to the face of the scruffy young man, who shifted awkwardly in his seat.
‘No way, man. Like I said, that doctor didn’t know nothing! I fell, I tell you.’
Mario didn’t comment straight away, not rising to Jason’s aggressive voice. Instead, he slowly turned the hand around. ‘The reason that I am…’ His forehead creased for a moment. ‘How do you say this? Nag,’ Mario said finally, obviously pleased with himself at choosing the right word. ‘The reason I nag is that many people do not realise the harm a small bite can do.’
‘I told you, I fell!’ Jason was becoming indignant now but Mario chose not to notice as he carried on chatting in an amiable voice. ‘Humour me, please, Jason. I need to practise my English.’ He flashed a smile and Jason shrugged. ‘If, and I hear you when you say no, but if this was the result of a bite—say you went to thump someone and their tooth caught your knuckle…’
Jason was seriously rattled now and pulled his hand away but Mario continued unperturbed. ‘Then that would make this seemingly simple injury far more serious. A human bite would be far more dangerous than a piece of gravel. You see, a bite acts like a very effective injection, and in this small space…’ He flicked his hands dramatically. ‘Pow! The germs multiply at a great rate and the hand fills with pus. Of course, if this were a bite, then we would need to admit you and give you intravenous antibiotics. Possibly you would need to go to Theatre to have the wound cleaned to halt the progress of the infection. Anyway, as it is merely from a fall, we don’t need to worry as much. We can increase your oral antibiotics and continue with elevation, and I will see you again tomorrow when I hope to see a great improvement. Sister Hadley here will clean it now for you and put it in a high arm sling.’ Handing Jason a script, he picked up his patient card and started to write.
Instead of getting up, Jason sat there for a moment. ‘Suppose it was a bite and I took the tablets and sling, what would happen then?’
‘Well, I really don’t think we need to go into that, Jason. I’m sure you are sensible enough that you would tell me so that I could give you the appropriate treatment.’
Jason gave loud sniff. ‘Well, come to think of it, I did get mixed up in a bit of a blue on Saturday.’
‘A blue?’
Fleur suppressed a smile as Mario tried to work out that particular Australianism. ‘A ‘‘blue’’ is a fight, Mr Ruffini.’
Mario glanced around at her. ‘Ah, I see. Well, Sister will take you around to the main department and as soon as I finish the clinic we’ll see about getting the orthopaedic doctors to admit you.’
‘How long will I be in for?’ Jason sounded nervous now and nothing like the angry young man of earlier.
‘A couple of days probably, but had you left it longer it could have been a lot more serious. I thank you for your honesty, it has made treating you a lot more straightforward.’
Fleur had to hand it to him, Mario certainly had charm. Most doctors—nurses, too, come to that—wouldn’t have been able to resist a quick lecture. But Mario had put that aside in the interest of his patient and the result was a positively docile young man now who would get the appropriate care.
‘I’d like a swab taken and then could you ask them to put in an IV bung? I’ll be around shortly to write up some antibiotics and refer Jason. Thank you, Sister.’ He gave a very brief on-off smile without meeting her eyes.
Fleur knew he was annoyed with her and, what was worse, she couldn’t blame him. After this morning’s debacle he must be wondering what on earth Danny was doing, taking her back!
Jason was soon settled onto a trolley.
‘How’s the clinic going?’ Danny asked
‘Fine. We’re just about finishing up. Young Jason is to be admitted under the orthopods
