to lay this on you, Nick. It’s just that he frightens me so much. He was such a violent man.’
‘Try not to be afraid,’ he murmured. ‘If you’re really worried, you should go to the police and get a restraining order. In the meantime, can you stay with your cousin until we get you fixed up somewhere?’
Chloe nodded. Her blonde curls shimmered in the glow from the overhead light. She was a pretty girl, and Amber could understand how any man would feel protective towards her. She looked vulnerable and needy, and the consultant was obviously responding by giving her his full support.
Mandy was called away, and she left Amber to familiarise herself with the system. ‘I’ll be back in a while,’ she promised. ‘I just need to go and look in on one of my patients.’
Amber nodded, and went on rummaging through the various types of forms. After a while, though, her mind began to wander.
Her mother had seen the same article in the newspaper, and it seemed that the fire at the accommodation block was the talk of the neighbourhood.
It just showed how great the power of the press could be. What if she could use that power to her own ends? Could it be one of the ways that she could try to contact her brother? If he was living in the area, it was possible that he would read the local news.
‘What are you doing?’
She looked up with a start as a now-familiar male voice intruded on her reverie. ‘I’m sorry?’ she floundered, trying to get her wits together once more. She gazed at her boss in confusion. ‘Did you say something?’
Nick was staring at her with a look of exasperation that she was beginning to recognise.
‘Yes, I did. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting your daydream, but I would appreciate it if you could drag your attention my way for a moment or two.’
She blinked. His sarcasm wasn’t wasted on her. It seemed that she hadn’t even managed to get through the first half an hour here without crossing him.
‘I’m afraid I was a little preoccupied,’ she mumbled.
He made a faint grimace. He said slowly, ‘I was asking what you’re doing behind the desk. It seems to me that you’re in an area where you have no business to be. Is that correct?’
‘Er, no…’ She straightened up, a little intimidated by his brooding expression. ‘What I mean to say is, it is all right for me to be here. I was just familiarising myself with the way things are organised. I’m going to be working in this department.’
He stared at her in disbelief, and then shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think you have that quite right.’ He frowned. ‘This is an A and E unit. Perhaps you were looking for the records office or something?’
Her mouth made an odd shape. ‘Actually, I think you’ll find that I’m your new senior house officer— or rather, one of them.’
He didn’t say anything for quite some time, but simply studied her as though she had descended from another planet.
When the silence became unbearable, she thrust out her hand to him and said, ‘I’m Amber Cavell…Dr Cavell. I don’t think you were here when the interviews took place, but Professor McIntyre arranged everything in your absence. I’m here to start a staff grade posting.’
He stared at her hand, and when she started to think that he was going to ignore her, he finally grasped it and said in a kindly tone, ‘You know, I’m sure there must have been some mistake.’ He almost patted her hand. Then, collecting himself, he let her go as though he had been stung.
He said lightly, ‘Even so, I must say I’m pleased to see you again and to find that you seem to have recovered from your ordeal.’ He looked at her searchingly. ‘I take it you have recovered?’
Amber disguised a wince. Did he think she’d taken leave of her senses once more? His manner was almost patronising. ‘Yes, thank you,’ she said. ‘I seem to have come out of it with no after-effects. I’m very lucky, and I realise that I have you to thank for that.’
‘Possibly.’ He turned to the desk clerk, and said, ‘Would you let me have the file on the new senior house officer post, please? There are a few details that I would like to check.’
It was Amber’s turn to stare. Surely he wasn’t going to search for a reason to have her evicted from her post before she had even started it? Could he do that?
The desk clerk hunted through a filing cabinet and handed him a folder. ‘I believe this is the one,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’ The consultant flicked through the paperwork, his dark brows edging closer together as the seconds passed. Amber watched him guardedly.
After a while, he looked up, and said in a clipped voice, ‘Professor McIntyre’s handwriting doesn’t improve with time, unfortunately.’ He looked at her once more. ‘I was expecting a Dr Andy Carmel.’ His mouth made a straight line. ‘It looks as though I owe you an apology. I should welcome you to our department.’
He said it calmly enough, but his lips were stiff, and Amber wondered how much of an ordeal it was for him to accept her on his team. It didn’t bode well for the future. Things were not going to be easy, working alongside him, that was for sure.
He said carefully, ‘I’ll get someone to show you around, and as soon as you feel ready, you can start seeing patients. Mandy will direct them your way.’ He frowned as a siren sounded in the distance. ‘You’ll have to excuse me—we have patients from a road traffic accident coming in. You don’t need to be involved with that—I already have the staff in place to attend to them.’
Amber had the feeling that he didn’t trust her to assist, and already he was moving away, his mind seemingly elsewhere. Surely she would be able to prove herself to him over the next few hours and days?
She did as he had suggested, going on a quick tour of the department before she started work. She was worried about making a mistake—her nerves were already in shreds—but as the morning wore on, her professional instincts took over.
‘There’s a patient waiting for you in room three,’ Mandy said at one point. ‘Jack Carstairs. He’s complaining of a sudden loss of vision, and the paramedic was querying migraine.’
‘OK, I’ll see to him.’ Amber glanced at the chart Mandy handed to her and then hurried towards the room.
Her patient was a man in his late fifties. ‘Hello, Mr Carstairs,’ she greeted him warmly, trying to put him at ease. It was clear that he was unsettled and anxious. ‘I’m Dr Cavell, and I’m just going to have a quick look at you and see if we can find out what’s causing the trouble. Can you describe the loss of vision to me?’
He answered her questions as best he could, and she made a quick examination, checking his perception of light and his ability to detect hand movement or count the fingers she held up before him. She became increasingly concerned as she went on to examine the affected eye through a slit lamp.
‘There are one or two more things that I want to check, Mr Carstairs,’ she said. ‘I’d like to listen to your heart through my stethoscope to check for any murmurs and so on, and then I want to take some blood from your arm for testing.’
He
