Lynne Marshall

A &E Affairs


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Alison blinked twice.

      ‘They’re taking ages.’

      ‘Rush-hour.’

      ‘It’s still ages.’

      ‘It might not be that bad,’ Nick said. ‘We’re set up for everything; we’ll worry, if we need to, when they get here.’

      It was actually very good advice and Alison gave a thin smile. ‘Is that what you do?’

      ‘I try to,’ Nick replied. ‘Right now I’m trying to work out seven down—begins with L, ends in E, recurring.’

      ‘Life,’ Alison said, and he grinned. ‘I’m stuck on it too.’

      ‘How’s the flat-hunting?’ he asked. ‘Any luck?’

      And she was about to shrug, to get back to worrying about the family that was coming in, but Nick was right. Until they arrived there was no point, so instead she followed his lead.

      ‘Actually, yes!’ She’d sworn not to get her hopes up, not to say a word, but she was so delighted she couldn’t help herself. ‘I got a phone call from a real estate agent about a flat, and though it’s not officially on the market yet, he’s arranging an inspection. It’s within my price range and they want a quick sale…It all sounds a bit too good to be true.’

      ‘It might be your time for some good luck.’

      ‘How was the rest of your weekend?’ Alison asked, because, well, she was interested and she wanted to get back to normal with him and he was so easy to talk to. ‘Any surfing?’

      ‘Well, I wouldn’t quite call it surfing, but I did manage to get up and stay up for about half a second. It was great…’ He stopped in mid-sentence as a siren blared the first ambulance’s arrival. ‘Okay,’ Nick said, ‘now we can get back to worrying.’

      Her name was Polly and she was seven and petrified and on a trauma board, her head strapped down. She was so scared that she wasn’t even crying.

      ‘Hi, there, Polly.’ Nick smiled down at her. ‘I’m Nick, I’m a doctor. You’re having a rotten morning, aren’t you?’ He spoke reassuringly to her as he rapidly examined her while Alison transferred the oxygen tubes. The paramedics had started an IV and were feeding information as they worked on. Alison was cutting off Polly’s school uniform, attaching her to monitors and getting her observations.

      ‘Where’s my mum?’ Her little teeth were chattering, just one thing on her mind, and Alison glanced over at Todd, the paramedic, who nodded his head towards the door and Alison went over.

      ‘She’s being cut out of the car,’ Todd explained. ‘She’s conscious, but she’s got some nasty cuts and is really agitated. She should be in soon. The police are trying to get hold of Dad.’

      ‘Thanks,’ Alison said, but nothing else, and headed back to Polly. ‘Mum will be coming in soon, and we’re getting hold of Dad, but right now we need to make sure you’re okay.’

      Amazingly she appeared to be.

      There were some minor cuts and bruises, but she was neurologically sound and her abdomen was soft and nontender. After a thorough examination and some cervical spine films, they peeled off the board and beneath it was a little girl who was a bit calmer, but still shaky, asking after her mum and very worried about her dad.

      ‘He’s got an interview.’ Now Polly did start crying.

      ‘Hey,’ Nick said, ‘don’t worry about that. Your dad will be so relieved that you’re okay.’ Except the little girl could not be consoled.

      ‘Can I move her over to a cubicle?’ Alison checked with Nick, and then spoke away from Polly. ‘Mum’s about to arrive…’

      ‘Sure, just…’ He didn’t finish, and Alison didn’t wait to find out or to be told—yes, she would keep a very close eye on Polly.

      She could see Todd hanging around, taking ages to sort out the blankets, and she deliberately ignored him. Alison didn’t like him. He was good at his job and everything but he had asked her out a few times and didn’t know how to take no for an answer. He’d also been out with half the department, and expected Alison to follow suit.

      ‘Hey, Alison.’ Todd came over. ‘How is she?’

      ‘Fine,’ Alison answered. ‘We’re just about to move her out of Resus.’

      ‘How are you?’

      ‘Fine,’ came her reply, but she didn’t elaborate, actually refusing to speak to him about anything other than work.

      She was glad she had moved Polly out, though her mum’s sobs still reached the cubicle and after rechecking the little girl’s obs, Alison didn’t try to placate her. ‘I’ll go and find out how she is.’

      The police were outside in the corridor and they brought Alison up to speed on things before she went in. Ellie and Sheila, the unit manager, were helping Nick and Alison observed for a moment before asking how she was doing.

      ‘She’s got a nasty arm laceration that needs to go straight to Theatre,’ Ellie said. ‘She’s hysterical. Nick’s told her that her little girl’s okay.’

      ‘This is the nurse looking after Polly,’ Nick told his patient, and Alison went over to the distraught woman. ‘Rebecca,’ he added, and Alison nodded.

      ‘I’m looking after Polly,’ Alison said. ‘She’s doing really well. As soon as you’re more settled you can see her.’

      ‘David?’

      ‘Your husband?’ Alison checked. ‘I’ve just spoken to the police and he’s on his way in.’

      ‘He’ll be so worried.’

      ‘I’ll look out for him,’ Alison promised. ‘I’ll speak to him the second he arrives and I’ll bring him in to Polly and to you just as soon as I can.’

      ‘He’ll be—’

      ‘I’ll look after him,’ Alison said gently. ‘Try not to worry.’

      ‘Where are they?’ The man, who was chalk-white and looked as if he might pass out any second, needed no introduction. Alison knew this must be the father. A security man was running in behind him, about to tell him to move his car, but Alison dealt with practicalities, got the keys from him and asked for permission for Security to move it. David was really in no state to drive.

      ‘They’re going to be okay,’ Alison said, and guided him straight to a side room. ‘Let me just talk to you for a moment and then I’ll take you in to see Polly.’ She knew he needed to see his daughter, but in the state he was in, he would just upset Polly more.

      ‘Polly’s escaped lightly,’ Alison explained. ‘She’s got some cuts and a few bruises across her chest and to her shoulder from the seat belt, but she’s talking and she’s fine.’

      ‘Rebecca?’

      ‘She’s got a nasty arm laceration and they’re talking about taking her straight to Theatre. There might be some concussion and they’re going to arrange for a head CT. She’s very distressed, they had to cut her out of the car, but she knows where she is and what’s happened, and she’s very worried about Polly and about you.’

      ‘Oh, God.’ He bunched his hands by his head and took in some deep breaths. ‘I thought the worst…’

      ‘Of course you did,’ Alison said gently. ‘We were prepared for the worst too, but they do seem to be relatively okay. I’ll get the doctor to speak to you just as soon as he can.’

      ‘I don’t think I even said goodbye this morning. I’ve got a job interview today…’ Alison frowned, because she’d heard Polly going on about it. ‘I was so worked up about it, I can’t even remember if I said goodbye…’ And he broke down then and Alison listened and