She pulled her penlight from her pocket. This man probably had a head injury. She’d seen him being bounced off the port wall. She lifted his groggy eyelids and shone the light first in one eye and then the other. He gave the smallest flinch.
Pupils equal and reactive. She turned to David. ‘We need to start proper neuro obs on this guy.’
He nodded. ‘What happened?’
‘He went in to rescue the boy. Once he’d got him the current carried them to the port wall and he was knocked unconscious. I think he was under the water for just over a minute.’ Her hand reached around to the back of his head. His dark brown hair was wet but she could feel some abrasions at the back of his head. She pulled her hand back—blood.
‘Can you give me something to patch this before we move him, please, David?’
David nodded and handed her some latex gloves and a dressing pad. ‘Stretcher will be here in a minute. We’ll get him onto the trolley and see if we can find some ID.’
Francesca hadn’t lifted her head. He was still groggy. In all the TV shows she’d ever watched, victims of a near-drowning seemed to get up almost as soon as they were revived and walk off down the beach into the sunset. Usually hand in hand with their rescuer.
The thought of walking off into the sunset with this guy was definitely appealing. Like something out a fairy-tale. If only he would come round.
As a child she’d always loved the childhood fairy-tales Cinderella, Rapunzel, Snow White and Little Red Riding Hood. Her father had read them to her over and over again. Those were some of her fondest memories of him.
She leaned in a little closer to the man. If she really wanted to do a set of neurological observations on this guy then she needed to try and elicit some kind of response from him, a response to a painful stimulus.
‘Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,’ she whispered.
CHAPTER TWO
GABRIEL was in a dark place. Nothing. Nothingness. Then a sharp pain in his chest and the need to be sick. He coughed and spluttered, conscious that he was being pushed on his side but totally unable to assist. His head was thudding. His lungs felt as if they were burning. He heard a little hissing noise and felt a gentle, cool breeze on his face. What was that?
Someone tugged his eye open and shone a bright light at him. How dared they? Couldn’t they see he just wanted to sleep? To be left alone for a few moments in this fuzzy place?
He felt a little pinch on his hand. Then another, more insistent.
‘Ouch!’ He was annoyed, irritated. Then he heard a soft, lilting voice with the strangest accent he’d heard in a while. ‘Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Are you with us?’ Warm, soft breath tickled his cheek.
His eyelids flickered open. The sun was too bright.
Someone was trying to block the sunlight out.
Rats. It must be a dream. She was far too pretty for real life.
She was every guy’s dream. A real-life modern-day princess. Mediterranean skin and dark eyes with tumbling brown curls. But something in this fairy-tale still wasn’t working.
She spoke again. ‘There we go, that’s better.’
It was that accent. It didn’t fit with his Mediterranean dream princess.
It confused him. Made his brain hurt. No—that wasn’t his brain, that was his head.
He blinked again. The smell of the Adriatic Sea assaulting his senses. His skin was prickling. All of a sudden he felt uncomfortable. Something wasn’t right. He was wet. Not just damp but soaked all over.
In the space of a few seconds the jigsaw puzzle pieces all fell into place. The young boy drowning, his attempt at saving him and the almighty crack to his head. He pushed himself up.
‘Whoa, sailor. Take it easy there. You’ve had a bump on the head.’
‘You can say that again,’ he mumbled, squinting in the sunlight. ‘And it’s Doctor, not sailor.’
The princess’s face broke into a wide perfect-toothed smile. ‘Actually, I’ll correct you there. On board, you’re a sailor first, doctor second.’
David Marsh leaned forward, clutching some wet credentials in his hand. He held out his other hand. ‘Well, this is an interesting way to meet our new boss. Gabriel Russo, I’m Dr David Marsh, your partner in crime. And this…’ he nodded towards Francesca ‘… is Francesca Cruz, one of our nurse practitioners. But as you’ve just been mouth to mouth with each other, introductions seem a little late.’ He signalled to the nearby crewmen. ‘We’re just going to get you on this stretcher and take you to the medical centre to check you over.’
Francesca felt a chill go down her spine at the name. She recognised it but couldn’t for the life of her think why. She stared at him again. Was he vaguely familiar? She was sure she’d never met him, and with features like those he wasn’t the kind of man you’d forget.
Gabriel looked horrified and shook his head, water flying everywhere. ‘No stretcher. I’m fine. I can walk.’ He pushed his hands on the bottom of the boat and stood up, standing still for a few seconds to make sure his balance was steady.
His eyes found the thick rope securing the small boat to the quay before he stepped over the gap and back to the safety of solid ground. He spun round to face Francesca. ‘How’s the boy? Is he all right?’ But he’d turned too quickly and he swayed.
She caught hold of his arm and gave him a cautious smile. ‘He’s on his way to the medical centre to be checked out. He was conscious, breathing but distinctly pale when he arrived. Now, how about I get you a wheelchair?’
‘I don’t do wheelchairs.’
She signalled over his shoulder. ‘I can be very bossy when I want to be.’
Dr Marsh cut in, ‘I can testify to that. Particularly if you think you’re going to get the last chocolate. I should warn you in advance that’s criminal activity in the medical centre.’
Gabriel felt pressure at the back of his legs as he thudded down into a wheelchair that had appeared out of thin air. ‘I said I don’t do chairs,’ he growled.
‘Let’s argue about that later,’ said Francesca as she swept the wheelchair along the dock.
The hairs on his arms were standing on end and he started to shiver—an involuntary action—a sign of shock. A few seconds later a space blanket was placed around his shoulders.
He grudgingly pulled it around him, noting the efficiency of his new staff and the easy rapport and teamwork—all good signs. Within a few seconds his nurse appeared to have walked the hundreds of yards along the dock and was pushing him up the gangway.
This was a nightmare. The worst way possible to meet your new staff. Yet another reason he should never have taken this job.
She seemed to turn automatically to her left, heading toward the service elevators. Gabriel felt mild panic start to build
