been there, but as a general surgeon Georgie knew his chances at succeeding would have been much less. If all the bleeding vessels weren’t located, the damage would continue.
Georgie knew instinctively that neither of these things would happen after Alistair had operated. This man was just too competent.
Too competent for his own good? Ego driven? Maybe, she thought, but now wasn’t the time to quibble about egos. He could be as egocentric as he liked, as long as he saved Megan.
And gradually it seemed that the combined skill of Alistair and Cal might do it. Hopefully they’d caught it in time. Hopefully there’d be no damage and Megan would grow up to be a normal, healthy kid like her brothers and sister.
Thanks mostly to Alistair. Georgie worked on with quiet competence, but inside she felt like weeping. They were so lucky this man was there. And to think she’d nearly abandoned him in the heat.
‘Yeah, you still owe me for that,’ Alistair said, as Cal carefully suctioned the wound, and she jerked her head up to meet his eyes.
The toad was smiling.
‘You didn’t want—’
‘And you figured that was exactly what I’d do.’
‘What are you guys talking about?’ Emily queried, and to her fury Georgie felt herself blushing. She turned back to her tray of equipment, thinking, Dammit, did the man have a mind-reader on board?
He scared her witless.
But he was saving Megan.
Maybe he’d already saved her. The worst of the damage had been cleared. Now he waited patiently, taking his time, watching carefully for any ongoing haemorrhage. Then, satisfied that the area was dry, he began the laborious task of suturing the dura and reattaching the bone.
He left nothing to chance. His fingers were so skilful Georgie could only watch in awe. Hand him equipment as it was needed. Try to anticipate his needs. Marvel at the skill of the procedure she was watching.
Finally he moved on to the superficial sutures. Even that wasn’t straightforward. For such surgery a specialist unit would have ready-made staples, but here Alistair could only suture, and the results of his suturing now would mean the difference between major scarring or whether Megan could wear her hair any way she liked as she grew up. Maybe such scarring didn’t matter so much in the greater scheme of things—he was well within his rights to hand over to Cal for this last step—but Georgie could tell by Alistair’s fierce concentration that he knew what scars could mean to a young woman. He was thinking forward to Megan’s life after this surgery.
He cared.
There would be minimal scarring from this man’s work today, she thought as he worked on. For a surgeon already weary from such an intense procedure, his sutures were flawless.
And then, finally, he could relax. They could all relax. Finally Georgie could hand over dressings, he could fit them over the child’s neat wound and he and Cal could step back from the table.
‘We’ll need a further CT scan in a few days but it’s looking good,’ he breathed.
Only then did Georgie notice a trickle of sweat running down his face. The release of pressure … He’d held himself contained, until now.
There were advantages to being a control freak, she thought, but suddenly she was far from being in control herself. She was suddenly shaking. She stepped back from the table and leaned hard against the wall.
‘Cal,’ Alistair said urgently, and Cal was by her side, pressing her onto a nearby stool, pushing her head between her knees.
‘I’m not fainting,’ she protested weakly, for that was exactly what her body felt like doing. ‘I never faint. Go back.’
‘You’ve excuse enough to faint if you feel like it,’ Alistair growled. ‘Take her out, Cal. We’re done here.’
‘But we’ve succeeded,’ Georgie whispered, and Alistair allowed himself the luxury of a smile.
‘Yeah. We’ve succeeded. With a little luck—but not much, because this is as fine a job as any I’ve seen in major US teaching hospitals, and you picked it up so early that it’s my guess she’ll end up with nothing to show for this morning’s dramas but a tiny scar.’
Georgie didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Why was she shaking now?
It was the bruised cheek and the drama of yesterday, she told herself, though she knew it was no such thing. It was a mixture of all sorts of stuff, not the least the way she was feeling about the man at the operating table.
He was way out of her league, but he was so …
‘Go,’ he said gruffly, and she looked up and her eyes met his. A silent message passed between them. Unmistakable. Go on. You’ve done well here. Look after yourself.
It wasn’t said out loud but it may as well have been.
Why it made her eyes well with tears …
She didn’t cry. She never cried. She wiped her eyes with an angry swipe and stood up. Once more she had to grab for the wall for support.
‘Take her, Cal.’
Alistair sounded as if he wanted to take her himself, she thought, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part.
She glanced at him again. Once more that look …
She had to get out of there.
She went.
He found her twenty minutes later. Transferring a small child from the operating table to a bed in Intensive Care sounded on the surface an easy thing to do, but the attached tubing, monitors and assorted medical paraphernalia were complex. At this stage nothing was to be left to chance. Alistair had supervised it all. Finally free, with Cal doing the first shift of ICU watch, he went to do what every surgeon must. He went to tell the family.
Lizzie.
This woman had been living a nightmare. Hopefully now the nightmare would lift.
He pushed open the door to her ward and Georgie was there. Of course. And Davy. The six-year-old was sitting on the bed with his mother while Georgie was talking to them both.
‘I thought I told you to go to bed,’ he growled, and Georgie smiled at him.
‘No. You just told me to go away.’
‘I meant you to go to bed.’
‘You’re not my doctor—sir.’ She was still smiling.
‘My Megan is going to be all right?’ Lizzie whispered. ‘Georgie says she should …’
‘She’s not completely out of danger yet,’ Alistair said, knowing there was no point in being less than honest. ‘But the outlook is good.’
‘Georgie’s explained it to me,’ Lizzie said. ‘So I know.’
‘It’s
