versed in the fire policy at the Primary, as well as in the various codes used for emergencies of different natures, and how to report safety hazards, Freya found that it was time for coffee—and, she guessed, another fifteen minutes of standing alone.
‘There’s a lot to take in, isn’t there?’ said Rita, the woman who had earlier been sitting next to her.
‘There is,’ Freya agreed. ‘Where will you be working?’
‘I used to be a domestic on Maternity. I’m hoping they’ll send me back there, but I haven’t been told where I’m going yet. You?’
‘I’m a midwife, so I’m certainly hoping that they’ll be sending me there!’ Freya joked.
‘Pardon?’
‘Maternity,’ Freya said instead.
‘Well, I hope to see you there.’
They headed back for their final lectures about the pay office and superannuation. Rita took furtive notes and Freya did her level best not to tune out completely.
Finally orientation day was concluded, and the fifty or so new Primary Hospital workers all headed for home.
Freya followed the red line, and sure enough was soon approaching Casualty.
And there he was.
The man who had understood her when she spoke.
He must be hungry again, Freya thought, watching him feed coins into a vending machine.
Gosh, he really was good-looking—and just so tall and broad. Even side-on there was a presence to him. She wondered if she could come up with a witty line about fire extinguishers in the few seconds she’d have before their paths crossed again.
Except she didn’t come up with any witty lines, and neither was one needed—because he collected a bottle of water and a bar of chocolate and headed back into Casualty without noticing her at all.
Freya headed towards the Underground, as did seemingly fifty million other people, and stood squashed between them for the four stops to her flat. And surely those same fifty million people were getting off at the same stop, for they all seemed to be herding towards the escalator with her.
She thought of her little purple car at home. The one that would never have survived the motorway—which was the reason her father had driven her here. And she thought of the short drive from the hospital to her home and the gorgeous view that awaited her there.
‘Cheer up love!’ called out a man working at a flower stall. ‘It might never happen.’
Freya jolted as she realised he was calling out to her.
She walked into her dingy flat and let out a sigh.
The place looked no better for her efforts over the past four days. She had washed down the walls, but really they needed several coats of paint. The curtains she had washed had shrunk, Freya had realised when she’d put them back, and now they didn’t properly close, falling a foot short of the floor. And there was an awful picture of a horse and cart that had to come down!
Tomorrow, Freya decided. When she would also get a rug to cover the mustard-coloured carpet, she thought as she headed into the kitchen.
It was even worse than her kitchen at Cromayr Bay.
But it wasn’t just the flat that was upsetting her. Apart from that gorgeous guy at lunchtime she had barely spoken to a soul since she’d arrived here.
It would be better soon, Freya told herself. Once she got to the maternity unit she would start to make friends.
Wouldn’t she?
She was starting to think the flower seller had picked up on her mood correctly. ‘It’ had indeed happened.
Moving here, Freya was sure, had been a mistake.
‘FIONA, CAN YOU go to Labour and Delivery? I mean Freya.’
Freya nodded. She was getting rather used to being called the wrong name by Stella, the associate unit manager.
‘Sure.’
‘And can you buddy with Kelly?’
Freya had been working there for a fortnight now, and today she was to go to the labour and delivery unit. ‘Buddying’ meant that she and Kelly would check each other’s CTG readings to ensure that two sets of skilled eyes overlooked the tracings. Even after two weeks it was no less daunting than it had been on her first day.
She had spent the first week in the antenatal clinic and the past few days on the maternity ward, and now she was on her second day in L&D.
There were so many staff, and each day there seemed to be new faces. Freya had really clicked with one midwife yesterday, but as it had turned out she’d just been doing an agency shift, so Freya had no idea if she would see her again.
Everyone was so busy, and though they were all professional and nice, there just wasn’t the same vibe from her colleagues that Freya was used to.
As she walked to L&D Freya rolled over the top of her trousers as they were way too loose. Her uniform consisted of dark blue trousers and a pale blue top and it was less than flattering. She couldn’t care less, but the sizing must be off because it hung off her. Although she had lost a bit of weight since she’d arrived, due to the constant busy pace and the lack of time to do a proper shop.
As she pressed the green button and the doors to L&D parted she saw a woman pushing an IV, walking the corridor with her support person. Freya gave them a smile.
She checked the board and saw that Dr Mina was the obstetrician in charge today. In the short while she had been at the Primary, Freya had worked with her several times, and found her incredibly efficient as well as a calming presence to the patients.
The hand-over was in depth, so that everyone was well-versed on all the patients—both those present now and those expected to arrive over the course of the shift.
‘Freya, can you take over from Angela in D5?’ asked Pat, the midwife in charge of L&D today. ‘She’s awaiting an epidural, but finding an anaesthetist this morning is proving a rather hard ask.’
‘Has the second-on been paged?’ Freya asked, and that earnt her a wry smile from her colleague.
‘Everyone’s been paged, but there’s been a five-car pile-up on the M25 and there was already a dissecting triple A being rushed to Theatre, along with a collapse on the paediatric ward. Then we had to call the Crash Caesarean Team out half an hour ago. Right now Anaesthetics are snowed under, and it’s a case of if a patient’s screaming then at least they’re breathing.’
Freya took a breath of her own. That patient-load sounded like a full week’s work in Cromayr Bay at the height of summer, but it was just another morning at the Primary.
Or
