CHAPTER TWO
FRIDAY MORNING IN Casualty was the last place Senior Registrar Dan Rossi wanted to be.
And not with this patient—a seventeen-year-old drug-addicted youth. He’d arrested. And now the fight had begun to save his life. A life this skinny kid had valued so cheaply. How dared he?
Dan’s thoughts turned dark. ‘Start CPR!’ He bit the words out as the team began the familiar routine, working in concert around the senior doctor, responding to his clipped orders.
Expectations rose and fell as they treated the patient. Rose and fell again. Dan glanced at the clock. They’d done all they could but he didn’t want to call it. Not yet. Not today of all days. And not with this patient. What a waste of a young life. ‘Ramp it up!’
He felt the sweat crawl down his back, his heart like a jackhammer against his ribs. He shouldn’t be here. He’d lost his mental filter. Lost it.
Lost it. Lost it...
‘OK, he’s back.’
Thank God. Immediately, Dan’s chest felt lighter as if a valve had just released the pressure building inside him. He woke as if from a nightmare.
‘Pulse rate sixty,’ Nurse Manager Lindsey Stewart relayed evenly. ‘He’s waking up.’
Yanking off his gloves, Dan aimed them at the bin, missing by a mile. ‘Do what you have to do,’ he said, his voice flat.
And walked out. Fast.
Lindsey’s eyebrows hitched, her green gaze puzzled as she watched his exit.
* * *
‘That was a bit odd back there,’ Vanessa Cole, Lindsey’s colleague, said, as they watched their patient being wheeled out to ICU. ‘What’s biting Rossi?’
‘Something’s certainly got him upset,’ Lindsey agreed. ‘Dan’s usually very cool under pressure.’
‘He hasn’t been here long.’ Vanessa shrugged. ‘And we don’t know much about him yet. Perhaps it’s personal—girlfriend trouble?’
‘Does he have a girlfriend?’
‘Please!’ Vanessa, who seemed to be at the sharp end of all the hospital gossip, gave an exaggerated eye-roll. ‘With that dark, smouldering thing happening?’
‘That’s a bit simplistic,’ Lindsey refuted. ‘Dan Rossi is a senior doctor. He wouldn’t bring that kind of stuff to work with him. I’d better try to speak to him. If it’s a work-related matter, it’ll need sorting.’
‘Oh, Lins.’ Vanessa’s voice held exasperation as she pushed the privacy screen open. ‘Don’t start taking the flak for Rossi’s dummy spit. We run—that is, you run an extremely efficient casualty department. It’s my guess he’ll take a long lunch and snap out of whatever’s bugging him.’
Lindsey’s instincts were not quite buying that scenario. She recognised mental stress when she saw it, and Dan Rossi had been far from his usual self since the beginning of the shift. She frowned a bit, wondering just where he’d fled to.
‘Dan’s usually pretty good to work with.’
* * *
Dan knew he’d been discourteous to the team but today, for very personal reasons, he’d had to get out.
Had to.
In a secluded part of the grounds he sank into a garden seat, taking a deep breath and letting it go. Every sensible cell in his brain told him he shouldn’t have brought his personal problems to work today. In fact, he shouldn’t have come to work at all. If he’d thought it through, he’d have taken a mental health day available to all staff. Instead, he’d come to work in an environment where emotions went from high to low in seconds.
He made a dismissive sound in his throat. Having to treat that last patient had been the trigger that had shot his ability to be objective all to hell.
Addiction. And a foolish boy, abusing his body with no conception of the amazing gift of life. A gift Dan’s own babies had never had. No chance to draw one tiny life-saving breath. Two perfect little girls.
It was two years ago today since he’d lost them.
At the memory, something inside him rose up then flattened out again, like a lone wave on the sea. The grief he felt was still all too real. Grief with nowhere to go.
A shiver went right through him and he realised he’d rushed outside without a jacket. Lifting his hands, he linked them at the back of his neck. He needed to get a grip. Once he’d got through today, he’d regroup again.
Flipping his mobile out of his pocket, he checked for messages and found one from his colleague and closest friend, Nathan Lyons. The text simply said: Grub?
In
