telling me,’ Yvonne finally continued when Madison remained silent, ‘that Gerard collapsed and died without a single word, that there was no exchange of words between him and you or Guy?’
‘None,’ Madison confirmed. ‘Yvonne, I wish I could say different, I wish that Gerard had had enough time to say what he wanted to, but the truth is he didn’t. I know at the moment that doesn’t give you much comfort, but in the days and weeks that follow maybe you’ll be able to draw some strength from the fact that Gerard truly didn’t suffer, that not for a single moment was he anything other than the vibrant man we all knew and loved.’
‘I do.’Yvonne nodded. ‘You’re right, Madison, I take a lot of comfort from that.’
Madison watched as Yvonne visibly relaxed, watched as her words sank in. She was slightly taken aback to see just how quickly those words appeared to take effect.
‘Thank you for your help, Madison, and for all you did for Gerard. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to make a few telephone calls. Could I trouble someone for a cup of coffee?’
‘Of course.’ Madison nodded. ‘I’ll arrange for a tray to be brought in to you.’
‘And would it be possible to have some headache tablets? I don’t have any in my bag.’
‘I’ll get you some now.’
Slightly bemused by Yvonne’s rather abrupt turnaround, Madison quietly left the room, closing the door gently behind her. She frowned as she did so, then gave herself a quick mental shake. It wasn’t for her to judge—she’d dealt with literally hundreds of bereaved relatives in her time and if she’d learnt one thing, it was that no two reactions were the same.
People grieved in their own way.
By the time Madison had given Yvonne two headache tablets and asked Vic if he would mind making Mrs Dalton a cup of coffee, preferably in a china cup if he could find one, her ten minutes were more than up. Grimacing as she glanced at her watch, she headed off to the waiting room, finally ready to address the staff and let them know what had taken place and the reason they had been ushered in for this impromptu meeting. It never entered her head that Guy would have already started, that by the time she arrived at the waiting-room entrance the news would already have been broken!
‘This has come as a huge shock to all of us, especially to those of you who have had the pleasure of working alongside Gerard over the years. However…’ He paused just long enough for the shocked chatter to stop, just long enough to shift the tone and command the room. ‘We have a department due to open in less than two hours and ambulances will be pulling into the bay in less than four, and that means I need some honesty from you guys. I need you to decide honestly whether or not you’re able to work. If not, go home.’
The brutality of his words had Madison inwardly wincing. She fought an impulse to walk right up and override him—how dared he swan in and demand peak efficiency? How dared he act as if nothing had really happened! But as Guy continued talking, she found herself listening instead, examining her own conscience as he eloquently continued.
‘There can be no excuses,’ Guy explained. ‘If you can’t do your job today then you’re welcome to leave with no further explanation. I’ll sign you off on compassionate leave with full pay. I don’t want to be staring at a pile of incident reports at the end of the day, I don’t want to hear that you were so upset about what happened that you gave the wrong drug or made an error of judgement, I don’t want to sit in the interview room with grieving relatives, knowing that their loved one didn’t receive the best possible care. Now, have a coffee and try to get your head around what’s happened, and then, those who are up for it, business as usual in fifteen minutes.’ For the first time in his speech his eyes met Madison’s. ‘Gerard Dalton wouldn’t expect anything less from any of you.’
‘He’s good, isn’t he?’ Shirley whispered. ‘Personally, I was all ready to close the department for the day, but what Guy says makes sense, doesn’t it?’
‘I guess.’ Madison shrugged, but her shoulders were so rigid with tension they barely moved. She watched as the staff swarmed around Guy, asking questions, seeking reassurance, turning to him. She hated herself for being so petty.
Guy had achieved in minutes what had taken her months to achieve.
He’d created a team.
As the crowd dispersed, Guy made his way over. ‘Well?’ Pretending she had no idea what he was talking about, Madison frowned up at him.
‘Well, what?’
‘Are you staying or going home?’
‘It was never my intention to go home,’ Madison responded through slightly gritted teeth. ‘I merely suggested that we delay opening the department for a day. However, on reflection, I can see it would be better to go ahead as planned.’
‘Good,’ Guy responded, and Madison couldn’t help feeling as if he’d won a battle she hadn’t even realised had been taking place.
‘Right!’ She gave a brisk smile. ‘I’d better go and check on Yvonne, and, given that the staff are all here and we’ll be opening shortly, you’ll be wanting to get changed.’
‘Changed?’ It was Guy frowning now.
‘You are the new consultant?’ Madison pretended to check, running a slightly dismissive eye over his jeans and T-shirt.
‘Oh.’ Guy let out relieved laugh and started to rummage in his pocket. Madison watched in horror as he pulled out an ID badge and hung it around his neck.
‘Thanks for reminding me!’
‘So how was your first day?’ Helen beamed, pulling open her front door and ushering Madison inside. ‘You must be exhausted.’
‘I am,’ Madison agreed, nodding gratefully as Helen held up the kettle. She collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. ‘How was Emily?’
‘Great,’ Helen answered brightly. ‘She didn’t miss you for a second! So? Don’t keep me in suspense—was it busy, any dramas on the first day?’
Madison was saved from answering by noisy five-year-old footsteps running in from the garden where Emily had been playing with Helen’s son. And with her first genuine smile for the last twelve hours lighting up her face, Madison scooped Emily up and hugged her fiercely for a moment.
‘Did you have a good day at school?’ A vague nod was Madison’s only answer, but from the bright stains all over her dress, clearly she’d been painting. And how about last night, were you good for Helen?’ A tiny guilty glance in Helen’s direction was followed by a beat of a pause. ‘Richard and me were talking until late, and Helen had to tell us to be quiet.’
‘Richard and I,’ Madison corrected, but Emily just frowned.
‘No, it was Richard and me who were talking.’
‘Well, next time you go to sleep when Helen tells you,’ Madison lightly scolded, smothering a smile at Emily’s response.
‘So how was your day?’ Emily asked. Her pretty rosebud mouth deftly changed the subject and for the first of a hundred times in any one day Madison could see Mark, Emily’s father, etched in every feature, from her winning smile and stunning looks right down to her ability to shift a subject from anything remotely serious. ‘Did anyone die?’ Emily asked, with all the tact of a five-year-old. ‘Did you look after any kids that were sick? Was the vending machine filled up in time for the hospital opening?’
‘Yes, yes, and yes,’ Madison answered, grateful that the only answer Emily was really interested in was the last one. The emergency waiting room’s vending machines held an in inordinate amount of fascination for Emily and many evenings were spent asking exactly how the empty racks were going to be filled, how the special ‘lady’ who stocked it when the waiting room was quiet was going to get her hand up through the tiny space at the bottom and fill all the