Partners by Contract (17 page)

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Authors: Kim Lawrence

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Partners by Contract
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Phoebe admired the woman’s courage. She suspected that she’d have been a lot less brave and composed in similar circumstances.

‘There’s a lot of petrol around,’ one of the fire crew
murmured significantly in her ear. ‘Sooner would be better than later to get her out.’

‘Understood.’ They all knew that moving the woman without knowing the extent of her injuries could, not least in the case of a spinal injury, have serious consequences. ‘I’ll make a primary assessment,’ Phoebe murmured as she ran her fingers expertly over the woman’s skull. To her relief, the scalp wound seemed to be as bad as it got.

She shone a pencil torch briefly into the woman’s eyes and saw her equal pupils both react to the light. This was a good sign. If the reaction had been sluggish or the pupils had not been equal, it could have indicated raised intracranial pressure caused by a cerebral bleed.

The news wasn’t as good elsewhere. The woman’s abdomen was tender and there were definite signs of guarding when Phoebe tentatively palpated it. Along with the tachycardia and low BP, it seemed highly likely she had internal bleeding.

‘Sorry,’ Phoebe murmured as Nell winced.

‘I’ve got internal bleeding, haven’t I?’

Phoebe’s eyes widened. ‘Are you a doctor?’

‘No, a nurse. I work in A and E, would you believe? Is it my spleen?

‘I’m in no position to make a definitive diagnosis, Nell, but, yes,’ Phoebe confirmed quietly, ‘that is a possibility.’ There was no point in hiding the potential seriousness of the situation from this woman.

‘Just as well I can get along without one, then, isn’t it?’

Phoebe was impressed all over again by the other woman’s composure. ‘I’ll put a line in,’ she promised, ‘as soon as we’re clear of this lot. And there’s a bag of haemocel in my bag with your name on.’ In cases of blood loss the plasma expander was a useful stopgap until the patient could be transfused.

Aware of the fire crew’s conversation over her head, Phoebe completed her assessment as quickly as possible.

‘Now, I’m just going to put this collar on,’ she explained, having been able to ascertain that there didn’t seem to be any lower limb injuries. ‘To protect your neck. Sorry,’ she apologised as the woman smiled wanly. ‘You already know that. It’s habit.’

‘A good habit,’ her patient said, squeezing her arm weakly.

Phoebe smiled back but didn’t feel she’d done enough to warrant the gratitude shining in the injured woman’s eyes. ‘And then these hunky gentlemen...’ she stood aside to let the firefighters move forward ‘...are going to lift you out. They’re men of the world so if you feel like swearing don’t hold back. Keep her back as immobile as possible, guys, just to be on the safe side.’

They’d carried Nell as far as the area where the other victims lay just as the ambulance, its blue lights flashing and siren blaring, arrived. Phoebe was mightily relieved to see it. Nell needed urgent attention that couldn’t be provided on site.

Her hand extended, she approached the paramedic who climbed out. ‘Dr Miller,’ she said briskly. She nodded towards the patient the fire crew had laid on the ground. ‘The lady has a nasty scalp laceration, but no loss of consciousness that I’m aware of. She’s alert and co-operative, her pupils are equal and reacting. Respiration’s twenty-four, BP’s ninety over sixty, tachycardic, no obvious fractures. Abdominal tenderness and guarding on palpation, possible internal bleeding...spleen?’ She drew a breath. ‘I was just about to get a line in.’ Later, when the adrenaline rush was over, Phoebe knew she’d feel the reaction but right now she was buzzing.

The paramedic nodded. ‘Thanks, we’ll take it from here. What about the others?’

‘Dr Carlyle was seeing to them. He’s...’ She looked around for Connor. She spotted the policeman from earlier and caught him by the arm. ‘Where’s Connor...Dr Carlyle?’ Her voice was shrill as she was gripped by a deep inexplicable sense of foreboding.

‘Oh, he’s gone in to help the guy they found trapped in the Mini.’

So casual, she marvelled, like he was explaining that Con had gone to get a pint of milk from the village stores. The Mini, as in half-underneath the lorry, Phoebe’s befuddled brain slowly translated. The colour seeped from her face.

‘He’s
what
?’

‘They found this guy trapped in the Mini.’ He wondered if the doctor was going to pass out on him she’d gone a very worrying shade. ‘He’s bleeding out pretty bad and his leg is trapped. They needed someone to stop the blood loss while they cut him out.’

‘And what fool nominated Connor?’ she demanded scathingly. ‘He can’t crawl anywhere. The man has a badly injured knee in case you didn’t notice the crutches!’

The young policeman looked taken aback by the virulence of her attack.

‘Well, that’s what we thought, but when they wanted to send you in, Dr Carlyle explained about you being pregnant. What with the toxic stuff and all, we couldn’t risk that, even with the breathing apparatus.’

‘With me being...’ Phoebe said very slowly. She gave her head a quick shake. Wasn’t that Con all over? The manipulative snake, she thought, embracing her wrath. It was easier to cope with than gibbering, abject terror! ‘I see,’ she responded grimly. She did see.

What sort of wimp did he think she was? When she saw Connor Carlyle she was going to tell him just what she thought of macho men who imagined women couldn’t pull their weight.
If
she saw him again?

If he dies, I’ll kill him!

‘Doctor, could you give us a hand here?’

‘What?’ Phoebe dragged her attention away from the men and machinery surrounding the trapped car. Connor was in the middle of all that... ‘Yes...yes, of course.’

Connor couldn’t die. She clung to that thought and ruthlessly pushed everything else out of her head. If she let fear take over, she’d be no good to anyone.

Despite her best intentions, she couldn’t help but glance fearfully over her shoulder to where the action was taking place. What if he died? What if Connor died? She could feel paralysing fear eating away at her concentration. Don’t go there, Phoebe, don’t! Don’t even think it, girl!

She made her way towards the toddler whose heartrending cries for his mum now were audible over the noise of the hydraulic devices the fire crew were using.

* * *

‘Won’t be long now, Andy.’ Connor had managed to get the man’s name during his last lucid period. Despite the lack of response he continued to talk, his low, measured tones muffled behind the breathing equipment he’d been issued. Connor felt for the man’s pulse. No change there. As you’d expect from someone in severe shock, the man’s skin was cold and clammy to the touch, his pulse rate rapid and thready.

Actually, talking was one of the few positive actions he could take. His choices of action were severely limited by the confined space of the cramped front seat and his lack of equipment. Until the unfortunate crash victim was released
from the car, all he could do was stem the blood loss.

He’d crawled in through the smashed passenger window, but there was no way the driver was going out the same way. His foot was trapped in the pedals and, as if that wasn’t enough, Connor couldn’t feel a pulse. Even if they got the driver out in one piece, he wasn’t too optimistic about the foot—it had been without a blood supply for some time now. Andy’s leg was a mess. The fracture was compound, the jagged ends of the bone protruding through the skin of the shin. It was probably just as well he continued to drift in and out of consciousness.

There was nothing more Connor could do now but continue to apply pressure on the wound—the blood loss had slowed but not stopped. He’d already placed the oxygen mask over the man’s face, had managed to hook up an intravenous line and given him a shot of morphine for the pain.

The noise of men in large boots on the roof roused the semi-comatose man from his stupor.

Connor resisted his panicky efforts to remove his mask.

‘It’s all right,’ he repeated, to no avail.

The guy was obviously unable to hear him through the breathing apparatus and continued to struggle fearfully. And Connor’s appearance was probably spooking him even more. Connor, unable to maintain the pressure on the wound, watched in dismay as it began to bleed heavily once more.

His decision, like most decisions in this type of situation, had to be made swiftly. He pulled the mask off his own face.

‘It’s all right, Andy’ he soothed. ‘They’re coming for us.’

The injured man shuddered. ‘I thought we were goners.’

‘You and me both, mate,’ Connor confessed with a conspiratorial wink. He couldn’t die, he decided stubbornly. He’d never had so much to live for.

When the roof of the car was peeled back like an old tin can, Connor found himself blinking out at a circle of grinning faces which blurred and faded in and out.

‘It’s the fumes—he’s not got his mask on,’ he heard a voice say before a black curtain fell.

* * *

The two other people who were in the relatives’ waiting area besides Phoebe looked up curiously as a breathless Will steamed up. Phoebe herself continued to stare vacantly into the distance.

Her mind was in a loop. It kept to the moment she’d seen Connor lying pale and unconscious on the stretcher. Her mind had split in two. There was the Phoebe who had calmly asked all the right questions concerning the patient from the paramedic, then there was the other Phoebe who was dying inside with fear. This Phoebe had wanted to weep and wail and throw herself on the unconscious figure.

‘I came as fast as I could.’ Will slid into the chair beside Phoebe and wrapped an arm around her. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Will...?’ She blinked, looking at the man beside her in surprise. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’

‘I asked if you’re all right.’

Phoebe’s chest heaved emotionally as she tried to keep a grip on her feelings. ‘Oh, I’m fine...I’m not the one who inhaled a load of noxious fumes. How could he be so stupid?’ She shook her head as her throat closed over and she looked at Will. Her wide eyes were tragic as they peered at him over the hand she’d clamped across her trembling lips.

‘That bad, is it?’ Will looked sombre. ‘Have they had to ventilate him?’

‘How would I know?’ Phoebe was vaguely aware that her voice had got louder and shriller than was socially acceptable, but she had very little control over it—or, for that matter, anything else she did. ‘They won’t tell me a thing! I had to follow in my car and when I got here they shoved me in here.’ Her teeth closed viciously over the full curve of her lower lip. ‘I hate doctors!’ she wailed, allowing her head to weakly drop onto Will’s shoulder.

Will made some comforting noises before lapsing into a thoughtful silence. Staff entered the room twice. Each time they went to the other occupants of the waiting area and after short, low-voiced conversations escorted them away.

It took several minutes after each occasion for Phoebe’s churning insides to calm down.

‘Did you notice that you could tell by their faces what sort of news it was?’ she said dully to Will. How will I look when they come to tell us? she wondered bleakly.

Will looked compassionately into her pale face. ‘There’s no point in imagining the worse, Phoebe. I’ve known Con for some time and he’s a pretty tough customer.’

‘That’s true,’ Phoebe conceded. Her lips quivered almost as wildly as her voice as she added, ‘But he looked so pale, lying there.’

Not as pale as you, Will felt like saying. His wife had been pestering him for information ever since he’d explained about the connection between their locum and Con. For years Trish had been trying to pair his partner off with someone suitable. To her annoyance, he’d had to plead ignorance, but Phoebe’s present condition made it safe to assume that, whatever her relationship with Con was, it was close!

Her amber, gold-flecked eyes had expanded until they seemed to fill half her face—Will had to look away. No, you definitely didn’t look like that for someone you didn’t care for a lot!

The door swung open slowly. Phoebe’s spine stiffened. There was no one else so it had to be their turn.

‘Have you two been waiting long?’ Connor looked from his partner to his lover, his puzzled frown deepening. ‘I wasn’t expecting a civil ceremony, but a “nice to see you Con, mate” might be nice.’

Nice to see you?
The ticking metronome in Phoebe’s head got louder.

Phoebe was left sitting statue-still all alone as Will advanced towards Connor, grinning broadly.

‘The truth is, it’s a bit of a shock, seeing you walk in here as large as life, old chap, when we were waiting for someone to come and tell us you were in ITU. Or maybe...’

The flicker of shock in Connor’s eyes swiftly morphed into amusement. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt the funeral arrangements.’ He grinned as Will thumped him enthusiastically on the shoulder.

She’d been sitting here caught up in a living nightmare and he was laughing. The ticking stopped and she exploded. She shot to her feet, quivering with outrage.

‘You think it’s funny?’ she queried in a high-pitched voice of querulous fury. ‘Almost as funny as you crawling inside that damned car like some damned macho action man.’ Her wildly windmilling arms inscribed giant irate circles in the air before her hands closed into tight white-knuckled fists. ‘When they told me about that,’ she recalled, exhaling one long angry gasp through her gritted teeth, ‘I could hardly stop laughing.’

Connor winced at the caustic jibe. ‘It seemed the right thing to do at the time,’ he responded mildly.

‘Stop!’ she pleaded. ‘I’m all choked up.’ Her claim wasn’t backed up by the feral gleam in her bright but noticeably dry eyes. ‘A man’s got to do, and all that bull... Give me a break! Oh, and I almost forgot. It was so clever of you to tell anyone who wanted to listen that I was pregnant. That was just the icing on the cake, really,’ she said bitterly.

Connor did colour slightly, but his expression remained unforgivably unrepentant. He turned to Will who was looking as if he wished he was somewhere else.

‘I didn’t want her to go in—it was too dangerous.’ A fellow male, he was sure, would understand his motivation.

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