Sue MacKay

Second Chance With Her Island Doc / Taking A Chance On The Single Dad


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any conversation she intended having.

       Briefly…

      ‘You know the Castlavarans own everything on this island,’ Carla was saying. ‘Everything. We’re a tiny country. We should be centrally governed by a larger state but we’ve always been independent. Our own language. Our own resources. And, sadly, our own official family, a family that’s scourged the land for its own ends and paid to subdue any unrest.’

      ‘I understand that,’ Anna said stiffly. ‘I also understand there’s little I can do about it for now. You know about the Trust? The terms of inheritance are that money from the estate is tightly held, used only for the upkeep of the castle or for my personal welfare. There’s a twenty-year holding period before I can change that. Victoir says the Trust was put in place to prevent wild spending by past Castlavarans.

      ‘I have trouble understanding the complexities, but legal opinion says I can’t break it. It seems it’s best if I go home, forget about it for twenty years and then put a team of lawyers in place to try and sort the mess out.’ The ache in her head seemed to tighten. ‘Even that boggles me.’

      ‘I can imagine. But meanwhile you could try and help.’

      ‘Like how?’

      ‘Well, a steriliser for a start,’ Carla said, suddenly sounding hopeful. And a little bit cheeky? She lifted a spoon from the cup and saucer, left from Anna’s morning’s coffee. ‘This spoon, for instance. This is for your personal use and you’re fussy. You could order a steriliser right now, to be delivered as soon as possible. We can’t help it if you’re discharged before you get to use it, and you could graciously allow us to use it until you need it again.’

      Anna’s lips twitched, and for the first time in what seemed weeks she found room to smile. In the enormity of what she’d been landed with, this seemed tiny, but the lovely thing about it was that it was something she could do right now.

      Carla was looking hopeful, her head cocked to one side. Wondering if she was up to the challenge?

      Maybe she was. Fun. The word was suddenly right before her. This was a baby step in how her life could continue from now on, but…could she have fun with this? Could she be of use?

      ‘You know,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘These sheets are scratchy. My welfare decrees I should order non-scratchy sheets, just in case I’m ever admitted again. Could you put in a requisition? Linen can’t be kept apart in the hospital laundry so maybe enough for the whole hospital?’

      ‘Yes!’ Carla said, chuckling with delight. ‘I knew you couldn’t be as bad as your cousin. And what about coffee? You surely can’t be expected to drink…’ But then she paused. She put a hand to her head in a gesture Anna understood. Her own head hurt.

      But this was suddenly more than that. Carla’s pain seemed to intensify. Her eyes widened and she grabbed for the foot of the bed, as if to steady herself.

      And swayed.

      And Anna moved as she’d never moved before. She reached her and hugged her under her arms, taking her weight as she sagged against her.

      As Carla’s eyes became sightless. As her knees buckled.

      As she crumpled to the floor.

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      Leo was in the nursery, checking the tiny baby who’d been born the night before. It was a good moment in what promised to be a frantic day. He gazed down at the newborn bundle and thought, This is what it’s all about. Forget Anna. Forget the Castlavarans. Focus on what’s important.

      And then his buzzer…

      Code blue.

      He was out the nursery before he realised.

      Room Twelve. Anna’s room.

      Code blue meant cardiac or respiratory arrest, or similar medical emergency.

       Anna?

      What had he missed? Internal bleed? What?

      He didn’t run—he didn’t need to. He’d pretty much perfected his hospital stride, so running would make him no faster.

      He turned the corner to Room Twelve and Maria was in front of him, pushing the crash cart.

      ‘Anna…’ he said, and he couldn’t keep the fear from his voice.

      ‘Worse,’ Maria managed. ‘It’s Carla.’

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      She’d hit the call button and then she’d yelled. The junior nurse who’d helped shower her had arrived in seconds, taken one look and bolted for help.

      Carla vomited as she reached the floor. The first couple of moments were frantic, clearing Carla’s airway, getting her into the recovery position, trying to assess her breathing. Anna was crouched on the floor, willing help to arrive. Trying to see what she was coping with. Cardiac arrest? No? Headache, pain, collapse…

      And then blessedly Leo was kneeling beside her. The crash cart was being wheeled in behind him.

      ‘Carla…’ Leo said, and she heard his voice break.

      Carla’s eyes were open but she wasn’t seeing.

      ‘I don’t think it’s her heart.’ Anna said it intentionally loudly, making her voice clipped and professional. Leo and this woman must be friends. She’d heard Leo’s instinctive distress, but she needed a doctor here, not someone emotionally involved.

      And he got it. She felt the moment he hauled himself together. The moment he became one of a medical team.

      ‘Fall?’

      ‘Collapse,’ she told him. She glanced up at Maria, and Maria anticipated her needs by handing down a towel. Two. She used one to sweep the mess away from Carla’s head, the other to help clear her face. ‘She looked like her head hurt. She put her hand to her head like there was intense pain and then she passed out.’

      ‘The headache… Hell…’ He had his hand on her wrist.

      ‘It’s still strong,’ Anna told him.

      They were squashed together. Maria started working around them, shoving the bed back, heaving the bedside table onto the bed to give them more room.

      ‘Defibrillator?’ Maria asked.

      ‘No.’ Leo was moving to the next stage. He checked her eyes, and Anna saw the slight sag of his shoulders, relief that he’d seen a corneal reflex. He’d seen her clear Carla’s mouth. He’d seen the gag reflex as well.

      She wasn’t comatose, then, but the speed of the drop from alert to where she was now implied she soon would be.

      ‘It’s okay, Carla, we’ve got you,’ Leo said, loudly and firmly. ‘Relax, love, don’t fight it.’

      That made Anna blink. He was assuming Carla could hear. It was good medicine, the assumption, unlikely as it was, that Carla would comprehend what was going on. But not all doctors did it, especially under the stress of an emergency like this one.

      ‘We need to stabilise your airway and get a scan,’ Leo said. ‘Carla, have you had a head injury? Banged your head?’ She didn’t respond—how could she?—but once again Anna knew the words had been said to reassure Carla that she was included in this conversation. ‘Carla didn’t say anything about an injury, Anna? Maria?’

      ‘Nothing,’ Maria said, and Anna heard her distress, too.

      ‘Just a headache,’ Anna said. ‘Leo, this looks like an internal bleed.’

      ‘You must have had a bump.’ Leo was back to speaking to Carla. ‘You told me you took aspirin last