sure!’ Jane’s expression was knowing. ‘I’m delighted to say you’re too late.’ Then she laughed. ‘I’d forgotten just how cute you were, mind you. All those curls and those wonderful dark blue eyes. They’re going to be queuing up around here. You haven’t changed a bit, have you, David?’
‘I’m older and wiser.’ David’s smile was relaxed but he felt disturbed. Just how much of a reputation had he left behind? OK, so he’d played hard. But not that often and only as a counterbalance to the effort he put into his work. At thirty-three, David knew he was exceptionally young to have gained this surgical consultancy. He also knew that he deserved it, and he was looking forward to proving his abilities and commitment, as well as undoing this idea that he was a good-time Charlie, which might be an obstacle to professional acceptance.
‘I’m just on my way to check out the surgical ward,’ he told Jane. ‘I don’t start officially until tomorrow.’
‘You should be impressed. It’s a great set-up.’ Jane Maddon switched from old friend to professional colleague without blinking. ‘Post-Cardiac Surgery Intensive Care is attached to the main ICU and the ward is right beside that. Come and have a look at CCU on your way. We’ve just upgraded the whole monitoring system. State-of-the-art technology.’
Jane was right. The technology was impressive and David was particularly interested by the screens which gave closed-circuit-television coverage of the most acutely ill patients. The group of staff standing by the bedside of number eight was headed by an unmistakable figure. He couldn’t hear what Lisa Kennedy was saying but the examination seemed to be complete. The staff were moving away, Lisa pausing to have a final word with the patient, who was still smiling as he watched his doctor leave. David’s glance flicked down to the other monitors attached to bed eight.
‘You’ve certainly got all the bases covered.’ He indicated a small button. ‘I suppose this gives a printout of the ECG?’
Jane nodded. ‘It does it automatically when it recognises an arrhythmia.’
‘His blood pressure’s low.’ David was staring at the screen. His eyes narrowed slightly. ‘In fact, it’s still dropping.’
‘Is it?’
David’s eyes were back on the television screen. The curtains had been pulled open again around bed eight and he could see Lisa’s back as she stood near bed seven. He heard Jane’s muttered curse as she moved quickly away from the control desk and he caught the change in the ECG pattern out of the corner of his eye, but it was Lisa Kennedy he was watching. How had she known to turn back to her previous patient at precisely that point? A lightning glance at the monitor confirmed that the rhythm had slipped into the uncontrolled squiggles of ventricular fibrillation that heralded a cardiac arrest and the printout of the thin rhythm strip had begun, but it was several seconds before the alarm began to sound.
By that time Lisa had pushed the cardiac-arrest button on the wall to summon the crash team, had knocked the bed end into a horizontal position and removed the patient’s pillows, pushing his bedside table out of the way as another doctor replaced it with the unit’s crash trolley. Jane Maddon hurriedly pulled the curtains to screen the emergency from the horrified gaze of other patients but David had a bird’s-eye view thanks to the television screen.
The staff worked as a close team. David, frustrated at his own inaction, watched as conduction pads were slapped on, positioned over the apex and bottom of the patient’s heart, his bedding and clothing hastily thrown aside. It was Lisa who held the defibrillator paddles and he could almost hear her command to stand clear as other staff stepped back. He cringed inwardly as the patient jerked convulsively and then his gaze moved away from the screen as the crash team arrived at a run.
Despite the seniority of the extra staff, Lisa continued to direct the resuscitation and David’s eyes were riveted to the screen as he watched the CPR, intubation and further defibrillation of the patient. He found he had been holding his breath, which he released in a sigh as the spikes of a normal sinus rhythm began to drift across the screen in front of him.
‘Too slow,’ he muttered, surprised by the murmur of agreement behind his shoulder. He had been totally unaware that other staff members had joined him to observe the crisis. Nobody had switched off the automatic recording of the abnormal rhythms and the strip of ECG paper was now pooling around his ankles. They all watched as Lisa injected the drugs she had ordered, presumably including atropine, and there was a collective sigh of relief within the next minutes as the observers saw the evidence of the patient regaining consciousness.
‘Score one for our side, I think,’ a nurse pronounced as she moved away.
Score another one for Lisa Kennedy, David amended silently. He was still watching as the crash team left and Lisa and the other unit staff tidied up. He could hear the laughter and joking and recognised the sense of euphoria he knew existed between staff in the aftermath of a desperate situation. He would very much have liked to have been included but could only smile his congratulations as Lisa and her companion passed the desk on their way out.
‘Well done, Lisa,’ he said warmly. ‘I’m most impressed.’
‘Thanks.’ The smile didn’t quite reach those brown eyes. ‘But you must be easily impressed. It’s just part of the job around here.’
‘I’m sure Mr Steel wouldn’t agree.’ David enjoyed the surprised flicker in her expression at his knowledge of the patient’s name. Then he saw her glance towards the monitors and the television screen. Her expression changed as she realised how closely David had been able to observe the incident. Fascinated by her changing expression, David wondered if Lisa Kennedy had any awareness of how her face revealed her thoughts. Her body language was expressive too. Like the infinitesimal shrug that said it was of no importance that he’d been watching her. He could almost see the effort with which she made her gaze carefully neutral when she transferred it back in his direction.
‘I don’t think you’ve met our junior registrar, Mr James. This is Sean Findlay.’
‘Call me David.’ He held out his hand to the registrar. ‘I’m not big on formality.’ His gaze included Lisa but it only Sean who nodded and returned the smile. He sighed inwardly. Was establishing a friendly relationship with Lisa Kennedy always such an uphill battle or was it something about him?
Perhaps he shouldn’t have accepted Jane’s offer of a tour around the cardiology wards but it hadn’t occurred to David that it might coincide with Dr Kennedy’s round. Neither had he had any intention of staring at the woman every time she came into view. It had to be coincidence that she managed to catch his eye every time she glanced in his direction. Or could it be that she felt the same attraction and found, like him, that she seemed to have lost automatic control over her visual targets? If so, she was very good at covering it up. Her expression became increasingly exasperated and David felt it was not before time that he headed off to explore the surgical set-up.
The unfortunate timing of his exit from the ward was more than coincidence. It was sheer bad luck. The last thing he wanted was to irritate her further by disrupting her day yet again. But what could he have done? The woman coming down the corridor was the size of an elephant. The bars on her walking frame looked seriously strained and David instinctively stepped aside to remove himself from the path of what appeared to be a human steamroller. The momentum was deceptive, however, and David found himself blocking the purposeful approach of Lisa Kennedy.
‘Excuse me.’
There was nowhere to go. Jane was behind him. Lisa in front. The mountain of flesh on his left had rolled to a standstill and was breathing
