at the beginning of the year. He’d refused to acknowledge or unravel his own complex responses to her leaving. But there was no doubt that A&E had lost one of its finest nurses … or that his colleagues held him responsible for that loss.
A distinct chill had lingered in the atmosphere after Holly’s departure. Support and sympathy had lain squarely with her, while he had universally been dubbed the villain of the piece. The truth? It was his fault. And no one knew that more than him. Although it didn’t absolve Holly of blame for her own part in things, no one felt more guilty, more angry or more riddled with self-disgust and regret than he did, and no one could think less of him than he thought of himself.
He’d been a loner all his life. It had never bothered him. Indeed, he felt most comfortable behind the barrier he put between himself and the rest of the world. Only when he’d been plunged back into the self-inflicted spell of isolation after the events with Holly had he fully realised how much of a difference she had made, how much she had changed him, and how much colour she had brought to the greyness of his world.
Through Holly he’d had a taste of acceptance and friendship and belonging the like of which he had never experienced before. Until, following her rejection of him—which had hit hard when he’d been at his lowest ebb—he’d thrown it all away in a moment of weakness. Through his own stupidity he’d lost any chance of reconciliation, of persuading Holly to change her mind about taking their relationship to the next level and, as a result, his hope for a promising future with Holly had been shattered.
Yes, Holly had played a part. She’d hurt and disappointed him. And finding out that she’d kept things from him, that he hadn’t known her as well as he’d thought, had dented his trust in her. But blaming her didn’t excuse his own reaction, and feelings of guilt and self-disgust continued to torment him.
Since Holly’s transfer from A&E he’d kept his head down and worked hard, more grateful than he’d expected to be when, as the days and weeks passed, he had slowly won back the professional acceptance and co-operation of his colleagues. What they thought of him personally was less clear. He only knew that self-respect remained a long way away.
Since the chasm had opened up between them he’d been careful to keep his distance, and once Holly had moved to the Children’s Ward he’d gone out of his way to avoid running into her around the hospital. He hadn’t caught even the briefest glimpse of her for weeks. Unfortunately out of sight had not rendered her out of mind. Holly continued to haunt him, which not only irritated him no end but added to the disappointment, confusion and hurt he still felt at the slightest thought of her.
And, above all, the pressing weight of guilt.
He had no business whatsoever thinking about Holly. Not any more. Not since the night when her public rejection of him had sparked off the chain of events that had rollercoastered out of his control, culminating on the day in December when his mistakes had come home to roost.
The day of his hastily arranged civil marriage.
The day Holly had become his sister-in-law … and Julia his wife.
Gus bit down the derisive, humourless laugh that rose inside him. He used the term ‘wife’ in the loosest sense of the word. Not that anyone had a clue about the true state of his six-and-a-half-month marriage. Which was just the way he wanted it. Apart from the man who had been his mentor throughout his troubled teenage years—a man whose premature death four years previously had left a big and painful hole—there was only one person in whom he had truly felt able to confide anything about himself and his life.
Holly.
And now she was the one person he could never talk to again—especially about his sham of a marriage to her sister Julia, and the loneliness he felt within it. The situation was entirely his own fault, and no matter how difficult things were all he could do was make the best of them. Because within the next few weeks the dynamics would change again and he would have a new role. A role he had never planned on or wanted and which brought with it a whole new range of frightening emotions and responsibilities: fatherhood.
As he approached the main desk the charged atmosphere and tension within the A&E department became even more evident. Robert Mowbray was talking intently on the emergency phone, while Kathleen was busy keeping up with the instructions Robert fired at her.
‘What’s happening, Laura?’ Gus asked, handing the young clerk the patient file on which he had just signed off. To his surprise, the normally bubbly and talkative girl shook her head and avoided meeting his gaze. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Fine.’
The response was muffled and the girl’s head remained bowed. Clearly she was anything but fine. Making a mental note to keep an eye on her, Gus moved to the nearby whiteboard. As he wiped off the details of his last patient he listened in to Robert’s side of the conversation, and it was immediately obvious that Carolyn had been right: something major was taking place.
‘I trust your judgement, Frazer,’ the consultant said, identifying the caller as Frazer McInnes, one of the flight doctors on Strathlochan’s air ambulance. ‘Kathleen is calling in the relevant specialists and alerting the operating theatre now. She may have experienced the first signs of labour before the crash … No, I agree with you. Our primary concern has to be for the baby and making every effort possible to save it. If she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt she might have sustained such fatal injuries hitting the steering wheel and the windscreen. How’s the foetal heartbeat? I’m not surprised the baby’s showing signs of distress. Do what you can to control the haemorrhaging. We’re on standby ready for you. We’ll bypass Resus and go straight to Theatre.’
Gus suppressed the wave of nausea that ripped through him as the horrific implications of the accident sank in. How dreadful for the casualties—the pregnant woman’s family in particular—but his sympathies also went out to the medical personnel. Any emergency that involved a baby was always difficult but, like himself, Frazer was also anticipating becoming a father soon, so this would be painfully close to home right now.
He certainly didn’t know how he would cope were he in Frazer’s place, confronting such a critical, challenging and emotional situation, Gus admitted, a shiver running down his spine. This was one occasion when he was glad to be in a well-equipped A&E department with back-up at hand rather than dealing with the pre-hospital conditions out at the roadside, making the best of what was available and taking the responsibility of making split-second life-and-death decisions.
Robert hung up the phone and turned to address the assorted personnel who were gathering around him and who seemed, Gus thought, more tense and edgy than usual. Why were they acting so strangely? Even the department’s joker, registrar Dr Will Brown, renowned for his ready smile and sense of humour, was uncharacteristically sombre and subdued. Puzzled, Gus put his colleagues’ changed behaviour down to the stress of the incredibly busy and pressured day.
‘ETA four minutes. I need extra fluids made ready—Frazer will be running low,’ Robert announced, and a senior nurse hurried off to do his bidding. ‘Kathleen, ask Security to help maintain a clear route to Theatre. And alert the blood bank. A transfusion is more than likely.’
‘I’m on it.’
Hoping to make himself useful, Gus stepped closer, but when he caught his boss’s gaze he was unable to read the expression that lingered there before the older man turned away to issue further instructions.
‘This is a unique and horrible situation, so focus on your tasks and not on the wider implications,’ he advised cryptically, puzzling Gus further. ‘You know what to do. Let’s get on. Someone hold the lift so there’s no delay when we need it. Kathleen …?’
‘Security are on the way. I’ve notified the blood bank. And I’ve fast-bleeped the emergency obstetrician and neurologist. They’re going straight to Theatre to scrub up,’ the middle-aged woman announced, the waver in her lilting Irish voice and her unusual pallor increasing Gus’s concern and the insidious feeling that something was very wrong here.
Grim-faced,