Reawakened By The Surgeon's Touch. Jennifer Taylor

the thought put him on his mettle. As he suctioned away the massive haematoma that had formed inside the man’s skull, Jude realised in surprise that he was enjoying himself.

      ‘Clamp.’ He rapped out the instruction, nodding when the nurse at his side slapped the instrument into his palm. He clamped the damaged blood vessel then carefully removed two minute splinters of bone. Fortunately the meninges—the protective membranes which covered the brain—hadn’t been pierced, so once he had cauterised the vein, the bleeding stopped. Nevertheless, it was another hour before he was satisfied that he had done all he could. It was out of his hands now and up to nature to run its course.

      Jude glanced at Bill Arnold, who was acting as his anaesthetist. ‘I’m going to call it a day. There’s not much more I can do for him.’

      ‘From what I saw, you did more than most would have attempted,’ Bill replied as he began to reverse the anaesthetic. ‘Good work, son.’

      Normally, Jude would have bridled if anyone had called him son but for some reason he was touched by the compliment. ‘Thanks,’ he said lightly, not wanting the older man to guess that it meant anything to him.

      He left Theatre, dropping his disposable cap into the bin on his way out before making his way to the changing room only to stop short when he opened the door and found Claire sitting on one of the benches. She immediately sprang to her feet when she saw him and he couldn’t help noticing how defensive she looked.

      ‘I forgot to tell you about signing in,’ she said quickly, and he winced when he heard the hostility in her voice.

      It had been obvious when they were in Triage that he wasn’t exactly flavour of the month and he could only conclude that it was because of what had happened earlier in the day. Maybe he should have deferred to her instead of taking over like that, but in his own defence, he had been more concerned about their safety than her injured feelings. He had been right, too, he assured himself, so he would be damned if he would apologise when he had got them safely back to the hospital.

      ‘So tell me now,’ he said flatly, stripping off the top of his scrub suit and tossing it into the dirty-linen hamper. There was a stack of clean towels on a shelf, so he picked one up and flung it over his shoulder then glanced round when she didn’t reply. ‘Look, I don’t want to rush you but I would like to take a shower this side of Christmas, if it’s all right with you.’

      ‘Yes, of course. Sorry.’ A rush of colour swept up her face as she hurried on. ‘You need to sign in every time you come into work and sign out again each time you leave. The sheets are kept in the office, so if you could sign out after you finish up here that would be great.’

      ‘And what do I do after that?’ He shrugged when she looked blankly at him. ‘Am I supposed to stay in the hospital, or what? I’ve no idea about our living arrangements.’

      ‘Oh, I see. I should have explained it all to you before, but things got a bit hectic after we found the truck—’ She broke off, obviously reluctant to talk about what had gone on earlier.

      Jude sighed as he realised that his assessment had been spot on. She did harbour a grudge about the way he had railroaded her and it was going to make life extremely stressful in the coming weeks if she didn’t get over it. He was just debating whether he should rustle up some sort of apology when she continued.