a lot. Zahir has a lot of commitments back home so he works on temporary contracts,’ Janet explained. ‘We always cross our fingers that he’ll renew. He’s a huge asset to the department.
‘I’ve worked with his brother, Dakan,’ Adele said.
They both shared a smile.
Dakan had just completed his residency and was a bit wild and cheeky, and she knew from the hospital grapevine that Zahir was the more austere of the two.
Of course she had heard about his brooding dark looks and yet she had never expected him to be quite so attractive.
Adele hadn’t really found anyone that attractive before.
Not that it mattered.
There had been no room in her life for that sort of thing, not that Zahir would even give her a second glance.
‘So,’ Janet said as they headed back to her office, ‘are you still keen to work here?’
‘Very.’ Adele nodded. ‘I never thought I’d want to work in Emergency but during my placement I found that I loved it...’
‘And you’re very good at it. You shall have to work in Resus, though.’
‘I understand that.’
As a student nurse Adele had struggled through her Accident and Emergency placement. She had dreaded going into the room where, even though her mother hadn’t died, Adele had found out that she was lost to her.
Janet, knowing all that had gone on, had been very patient and had given Adele the minimum time in Resus and had looked out for her when she was there. Now, though, if Adele wanted to make Accident and Emergency her specialty, there could be no kid-glove treatment.
‘Are you sure it won’t be too much for you?’ Janet checked.
‘I’m sure.’ Adele nodded. She had given it a lot of thought and she explained what she had come to realise during her training.
‘Really, my mother was in Theatre, in Radiology and ICU. For some reason the Resus room hit me the hardest but I’ve come to understand that there are memories of that time all over the place.’
‘How is Lorna doing now?’ Janet asked carefully.
‘She’s still the same.’ Adele gave a strained smile. ‘She’s in a really lovely nursing home, the staff are just wonderful and I go in and see her at least once a day.’
‘That’s a lot of pressure.’
‘Not really.’ Adele shook her head. ‘I’m not sure if she knows I’m there but I’d hate her to think I’d forgotten her.’
Janet wanted to say something.
Years of visiting her mother at least once a day would take its toll, she knew.
But then Janet understood why it would be so hard for Adele to move on. After all, she knew the details of the accident.
Janet had been working that day.
They had been alerted that there had been a motor-vehicle accident and that there had been five people injured and in the process of being freed from the wreckage of the cars.
Lorna Jenson, a front-seat passenger, had been in critical condition with severe head and chest injuries.
The driver of the other car had abdominal and head injuries and had been brought into Resus too. His wife and daughter had escaped with minor injuries but they had been hysterical and their screams and tears had filled the department.
And finally, as Lorna had been about to be taken to Theatre for surgery to hopefully relieve the pressure on her brain, Janet had gone in to speak with her eighteen-year-old daughter who’d lain staring at the ceiling.
Adele’s blonde hair had been splattered with blood and her face had been as white as the pillow. Her china-blue eyes had not blinked, they’d just stared up at the ceiling and her lips too had been white.
‘Adele?’ Janet checked, and Adele attempted to give a small nod but she was wearing a hard cervical collar. ‘Can you tell me your full name?’ Janet asked as she checked the wristband. She had been busy dealing with the critically injured patient and had to be very sure to whom she was speaking.
‘Adele Jenson.’
‘Good.’ Having confirmed to whom she was speaking, Janet pressed on. ‘I believe that Phillip, the consultant, has been in and spoken with you about your mother.’
‘He has,’ Adele said.
Phillip had been in and had gently told her just how unwell her mother was and that there was a real possibility that she might not make it through the operation.
His glasses had fogged up as he’d looked down at Adele and told her the grim news.
Adele didn’t understand how the doctor had tears in his eyes and yet hers were dry.
Now Janet was looking down at her.
‘She’s going to be going to Theatre very soon.’
‘How’s the man...?’ Adele asked.
‘I’m sorry, Adele, I can’t give you that information.’
‘I can hear his family crying.’
‘I know you can.’
‘How badly are they hurt?’
‘I’m sorry, Adele. Again, I can’t give you that information, it’s to do with patient confidentiality.’
‘I know it is,’ Adele said. ‘I’m a nursing student. But I just need to know how he is, if he’s alive.’
‘It’s very hard for you.’ Janet gave her hand a little squeeze but gave her no information. ‘I wondered if you’d like me to take you in to see your mother before she goes up to Theatre.’
Adele tried to sit up.
‘Just lie there,’ Janet soothed. ‘We’ll wheel you over on the gurney. I can take that collar off you now, Phillip just checked your X-rays and says your neck is fine. It just had to be put on as a precaution.’
Gently she removed it.
‘How do you feel?’ Janet asked.
‘I’m fine,’ Adele said, though, in fact, she felt sick and had the most terrible headache, possibly from sitting in the car as the firefighters had used the Jaws of Life to peel back the roof. The noise had been deafening. The silence from her mother beside her had been far worse, though.
Janet could hear the sound of police radios outside the curtain and one of them asking if they could speak with Adele Jenson.
‘Just one moment,’ Janet said to Adele. She took the police to the far end of the corridor, well out of Adele’s earshot.
‘I’m just about to take her in to see her mother. Can this wait for a little while?’
‘Of course,’ the officer agreed. ‘But we really do need to speak with the other driver.’
‘Learner driver,’ Janet said, and with that one word she asked that they tread very carefully.
The officer nodded.
Janet left them then and wheeled Adele in to see her mother.
At the time Janet was quite sure Lorna wouldn’t make it through surgery.
But she did.
Now Lorna clung to life in a chronic vegetative state.
And her daughter, Janet rightly guessed, was still paying the price for that terrible day.
‘THAT