Consultant In Crisis
Alison Roberts
Danger…deception…desire!Emergency physician Neil Fletcher didn't expect to see Kelly Drummond ever again, let alone attend an Urban Search and Rescue course with her. She abandoned him at the worst time of his life – and he's never been able to forgive her…or forget her.Then disaster strikes when a shopping mall collapses, and the USAR team is needed.Working together to save lives, Kelly and Fletch have to confront the truth about the past – about the secret Kelly has kept for so long – and about a passion neither can resist!
The prospect of entering the mall was suddenly terrifying
And if she had to do something this demanding and dangerous, then most people would consider Neil Fletcher to be the best person she could have at her side. Kelly was quite confident that personal antagonism would have no impact on Fletch’s integrity. She knew that if she needed guidance or protection they would be hers without request, as long as Fletch was capable of providing them.
The huge sliding glass doors of the mall entrance had been shattered. Kelly could feel the crunch of glass under her boots as she squared her shoulders and followed Fletch through the dark, gaping hole that had to be entered. Yes. She could trust Fletch as a partner in whatever horrors they might be about to face.
It was just such a shame that she knew the risk of trusting this man any further than that.
Dear Reader (#ulink_35bdd9f6-cebd-5c9f-9ae8-3af92f3f6530),
The things I do in the name of research for my books can add some memorable moments to my life. The one that may well stand out above all others is the day I got “buried alive” in a huge, hardfill rubbish dump as a “victim” in an urban disaster scenario. The Urban Search And Rescue team in training had to find me amongst the rubble and then extricate me safely.
The rather lengthy wait to be “rescued,” as I tapped intermittently on a piece of tin with a rock, was a wonderful opportunity to plan one of the most ambitious-and-enjoyable-writing projects I have tackled so far.
Consultant In Crisis is the first of three books based on a USAR team, and one major disaster in particular. I hope you are as caught up in the drama and excitement as I was and that the stories of Fletch and Kelly, Joe and Jessica, and Wendy and Ross touch your hearts.
Happy reading.
With love,
Alison
Consultant in Crisis
Alison Roberts
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
Cover (#u9448af70-344d-5e8d-9090-5d99b1cbd061)
Excerpt (#u08fbfa1a-eb71-5fd7-9e29-463b39436fa6)
Dear Reader (#u510e547b-62ec-540b-b576-8a4967dfd42c)
Title Page (#u925a4683-60b5-5695-9495-62a258457fab)
CHAPTER ONE (#u8cd13473-35b3-5ac5-83ba-dbb87534b81e)
CHAPTER TWO (#uabc82f9b-5301-5fa0-a21c-b0a1a190360b)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_38c6fdae-92b4-5c16-980b-a7cf2b9d6568)
‘RESCUE team above. Can you hear me?’
The silence was broken by only the sound of a small piece of rubble, dislodged by a steel-capped boot, that bounced off a broken length of timber before hitting a half-buried sheet of corrugated iron. The next ten seconds were eerily quiet.
‘Nothing heard.’ Urban Search and Rescue team member Neil Fletcher looked to his right along the chain of people.
Kelly Drummond was finding a more secure foothold amidst the precarious surface of building debris. Her heavily gloved hand grasped a shaft of timber between the exposed nails as she leaned closer to the steep mountain of rubbish. Rubbish that had once been houses. Houses that had held, and might still contain, people. Using a rock held in her other hand Kelly tapped loudly on a protruding water pipe before using her voice.
‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’
Kelly tilted her head until her safety helmet actually touched the rubble. She listened carefully. The sound created by tapping on a pipe would have carried much further than a human voice. Maybe someone trapped in the collapsed building and still alive could have heard the sound. Maybe she would hear them call out in return or hear tapping that might indicate their use of a similar means of communication. The seconds stretched out. Ten…eleven….twelve….thirteen…
‘Nothing heard.’
Joe Barrington was next in line. Solid, easy-going Joe was a paramedic, like Kelly. She had thought he would be the only person on this team she would know. After an involuntary glance to her left Kelly’s wish that that had indeed been the case was beginning to feel familiar.
‘Rescue team above.’ The deep rumble of Joe’s voice carried right along the ten people making up the human chain. ‘Can you hear me?’
Kelly needed to push her safety goggles back into place but didn’t want to move during the listening phase. Even a tiny movement could send debris tumbling and the sound might mask the whereabouts of a potential victim. A chill puff of wind sneaked inside the collar of the protective overalls and brought with it a mist of drizzle. Kelly closed her eyes for a few seconds. A month ago she had been sitting in the sun at a street-side café in Melbourne. Even three weeks ago she could never have envisioned herself in this situation. Part of an Urban Search and Rescue squad.
Working alongside Neil Fletcher.
She had recognised the possibility of seeing Fletch again. After all, she had chosen to come back to Christchurch and their careers weren’t a million miles apart. But it had been nearly two years now. It was more than likely that an emergency department registrar would have headed overseas for post-graduate experience and then chosen a bigger centre to come back to if he had returned to New Zealand at all. Besides, it had been Kelly who had chosen to end the relationship and the decision had been the right one. The only one. She had come to terms with that a very long time ago and she had moved on. Sorted out what she wanted from life and made damned sure that she was going to achieve it. Even if she did cross paths with Fletch it would make no difference. No difference whatsoever.
‘Nothing heard.’ Joe sounded disappointed. He was probably as weary as everyone else on the team now. The search was physically demanding and, so far, unrewarding. They had located one victim, whose position had been marked with fluorescent orange paint on a small slab of concrete further down the hill. A large ‘V’ for ‘victim’ with an arrow pointed to the precise location. A line through the centre of the ‘V’ indicated that the victim was dead.
Information received on their arrival at the disaster scene suggested that at least two more people were missing—trapped somewhere inside this potentially lethal environment. Subsurface. Casualties that had not been buried had already been removed. An ambulance triage station was dealing with the wounded. A temporary morgue held the less fortunate victims.
‘OK, team.’ The shout came from a man standing below the line. Their team leader, Ross Turnball, looked perfectly at ease with his environment. He balanced easily on the insecure footing and moved with a grace that advertised an enjoyment of physical challenges. ‘Move forward one metre.’
‘Avoid the overhang.’ The order came from another man standing apart from the chain. The confidence that the safety officer, Kyle, displayed was less convincing. ‘And there’s a single piece of reinforcing rod above you, Kelly. I’ve marked it.’
Kelly could see the piece of twisted steel, its rust largely covered by the orange spray paint. She could also see the overhang of the concrete slab above her head to the left. The weight of rubble on top of the slab made it dangerous to get close to. Kelly didn’t need reminding of the potential for aftershocks following the earthquake that had caused these buildings to collapse in the first place. Even a small tremor now could make precariously balanced debris a very real danger for the rescue team.
The careful spacing of the line of rescuers needed to be modified to accommodate the danger of the overhang. That meant that she and Fletch would have to increase the distance between them considerably. Kelly took a deep breath and began to move, remembering to kept three points of contact with the debris at all times. One foot, one hand, the other foot and then the final handhold. One more repetition should take her to her new position well to the right of the overhang. And Neil Fletcher would be well to the left. At least three metres away from her this time.
‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’
Kelly could barely hear Jessica’s voice at the far end of the line as the new series of calls began. With no hope of hearing any response from this distance it was all too easy to let her concentration lapse again.
How could she have been so confident that crossing paths with Fletch would make no difference? That first day of the USAR training course had dispelled that confidence big time. The first thirty minutes had been almost unbearable. Having entered the classroom, Kelly had almost turned on her heel and walked out again. It had been so totally unexpected, seeing Fletch sitting there. The shock had taken her breath away, left her completely numb for a split second, and then a horrible sensation like pins and needles had travelled through her whole body. Her fingers and toes had still been tingling as she’d eased herself onto the nearest available chair. Talk about someone walking across your grave. Someone resembling King Kong had just landed on hers with steel-capped boots.
‘Nothing heard.’ The voice was much closer now. It must be Fletch’s turn again. Unconsciously, Kelly braced herself for the sound of his voice.
‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’
Kelly could hear echoes of his voice in the silence. Echoes sending fingers reaching into her past that could retrieve memories she’d thought she’d buried as effectively as this debris had buried its victims. Memories of passion. Of hopes and dreams that had seemed so achievable. Of a pain that hadn’t been worth risking again. Did Fletch feel any of it? Kelly willed herself not to turn and stare at him. Of course he didn’t. After the anger that her abrupt departure had, no doubt, generated he’d probably been relieved when she’d left. He’d never tried to contact her, had he? Never bothered to ask why she’d just posted back the engagement ring.
‘I can hear something!’ The excitement in Fletch’s voice jarred Kelly into focusing. Had she been mistaken in thinking she could hear an echo of his voice? They shouldn’t be working together. Not this closely.
A murmur ran down the chain of rescuers when Fletch raised his arm to confirm his suspicion. The sound was terminated by a sharp blast of a whistle.
‘Silence on the site,’ Ross shouted to reinforce the whistle command. ‘Fletch—repeat your call.’
This time Kelly also raised her arm as she listened. Then she pointed in the direction from where she could hear the faint sound. To her left. Fletch was pointing to his right. The faint sound of someone groaning or maybe calling out was coming from just above the overhang. The line of rescuers was broken as Ross issued clear commands.
‘Joe, go up two metres and then to your left one metre. Jessica, go up one metre and then to your right one metre. Owen, see if you can move to a position a couple of metres above and between Joe and Jessica. Kyle, double check for hazards.’
Team members moved to their new positions, fatigue replaced by a sense of anticipation.
‘There’s a void in here,’ Jessica shouted. She moved a length of broken timber to reveal a triangle of clear space formed by a sheet of roofing iron resting on a ledge of rubble. ‘I think I can see someone.’ Her voice rose excitedly. ‘Hello—can you hear me?’
Kelly couldn’t hear the response clearly enough to make out the words but that didn’t detract from the sense of satisfaction. They had located a survivor.
‘Her name’s Wendy,’ Jessica relayed a minute later. ‘She’s breathing all right but can’t move her legs. She thinks she may have been unconscious for a while.’
Kyle was spraying an orange ‘V’ onto the nearest available surface.
‘Move a bit further to your left, Fletch,’ Ross instructed. ‘We don’t know what position this woman is lying in. We’ll need to start removing debris from a distance of three metres or so. Jessica, keep talking to her. Try and find out whether she knows of anyone else who may be trapped.’ Ross looked away as he turned his attention back to the whole job. ‘Fletch, Kelly and Joe, you can stay to shift rubble and provide any medical attention needed. We’ll get a Stokes basket up to you shortly. The rest of you form a new line. We need to cover the rest of this sector. As far as we know, we still have one missing person to locate.’
Clearing rubble to gain access to the void was painstaking and slow. They couldn’t risk collapsing the space the survivor was confined in and had to be careful not to make their own positions any less stable. The safety officer was supervising the operation and directing placement of larger pieces of shifted debris.
‘Watch out, Kelly! You need two people to shift that plank.’ Kyle shook his head. ‘Fletch, give her a hand, will you?’
A long blast on the whistle, calling for silence, meant that Kelly did not have to acknowledge his assistance. Jessica paused in the reassurance she was delivering to their patient and they continued with their tasks as quietly as possible as the new line and hail search got under way a little distance above and to their left.
‘Rescue team above. Can you hear me?’
New team members picked their way carefully up the disaster site, bringing with them a Stokes basket. The heavy-duty moulded plastic stretcher had handles and strap attachments along the top of its raised sides. A first-aid kit and other equipment was ferried up inside the basket.
It took twenty minutes to get close enough to actually start extricating the survivor. A change in the amount of light available to the team was an indication of both weather deterioration and approaching dusk but the teams worked on with steady determination. The line and hail search was now nearing the end of the last sector of this site. If no more victims were found they would probably have to deploy search dogs to try and locate anyone else confirmed to be missing.
‘Wendy—we’re really close now. It won’t be much longer.’ Fletch had taken over the reassurance of their patient. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Not too bad. I’m going to be really glad to get out of here, though.’
‘Can you move or feel your legs at all now?’
‘I’m not sure.’ The sound of coughing was magnified by the sheet of iron still covering Wendy. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Does anything hurt?’
‘No.’ Wendy coughed again. ‘This plaster dust is the worst thing. It keeps falling on my face.’
The top of the corrugated-iron sheet had been cleared of debris. As they lifted it, their patient raised her arm to shield her eyes from the light. Fletch moved closer, catching hold of Wendy’s wrist to feel for a radial pulse. Kelly knew he would be assessing her respiration at the same time and they all watched as he conducted a rapid survey to check for any obvious injuries or blood loss. ‘Let’s get a C-collar on,’ he ordered. ‘And line up the Stokes basket directly below us. We’re going to need to keep spinal alignment when we move her.’
Kelly and Joe had attended many spinal injury patients in their careers in the ambulance service but it had never been this awkward to try and immobilise and extricate them. The stretcher had to be positioned to remain stable and every move the team members made had to be planned in advance and checked to keep themselves safe as well as ensuring that any injuries to their patient weren’t exacerbated.
Once Wendy was securely strapped into the basket stretcher, the progress was still slow as the rescue team manoeuvred their burden down the slope. It took seven people to conduct the operation safely. Two people positioned themselves in front of the four people holding the stretcher basket. When all team members were secure enough to move their arms without losing their footing the stretcher was passed handhold to handhold until the two people at the back were free of the burden and now standing behind the stretcher. Then those two people moved carefully under the watchful gaze of the scout to position themselves ahead. Slowly, metre by metre, the stretcher was moved smoothly towards the base of the slope and the safety of waiting emergency service personnel.
As Kelly moved to a new position at the head of the stretcher for the fifth time she heard a shout from the team members still searching. Joe stared up the slope for a few seconds before nodding. ‘Another survivor by the look of it.’
‘Thank God for that,’ Kelly murmured. ‘I think we’ve all had enough of this for the moment.’ She shoved her hand into the slot at the head of the stretcher. The gloves made the task a lot more awkward but at least they were providing some warmth as well as protection. Her legs were freezing.
Fletch was moving behind her. ‘Why did you volunteer for USAR if you don’t like it?’
‘I didn’t volunteer, actually.’ Kelly watched Fletch reach level ground. Their task was almost complete. ‘Somebody volunteered for me.’
Joe’s eyes crinkled behind the plastic safety goggles as he grinned. ‘That’s true. She made the mistake of turning up in the boss’s office on her first day at work. I was in there, having just discovered that my intended course partner had broken his leg and wouldn’t be able to make it. Kelly had her arm twisted very thoroughly.’
‘Your friend must have heard about the course.’ Damp auburn curls were plastered against Jessica’s cheeks. She looked cold and exhausted as she changed handholds. ‘A broken leg seems like quite an attractive alternative right now.’
‘You think you’ve had it tough! This mask was useless for keeping the dust out and I thought you guys were never going to find me.’
‘You were in there for a long time.’ Kelly gazed back at the mountain of debris as they lowered the stretcher to the level ground. ‘Rather you than me, Wendy. Did you see any rats?’
‘Rats!’ Dark blue eyes widened dramatically behind the safety goggles. ‘Nobody said anything about there being rats around here.’
Joe was unclipping the straps that held Wendy securely in the Stokes basket. ‘It’s a rubbish tip,’ he reminded her. ‘Rubbish tips are always full of rats.’
‘OK, that does it.’ Wendy sat up and lifted her goggles to sit on the brim of her helmet. She pulled the dust mask to hang below a small but determined chin. ‘I resign. I’m not going to be a patient again. One of you lot can do it next time.’
‘But you’re so nice and light,’ Kelly said. ‘Imagine if we had to cart Joe down a hill. It would be a killer. He must weigh three times as much as you.’
‘It’s all muscle,’ Joe protested.
‘It’s discrimination,’ Wendy declared. ‘And I’m going to take a stand. Short people shouldn’t get picked on.’ Her grin was disarming. ‘Not while there’s rats around, anyway.’
Ignoring the hand Fletch was extending to help her, Wendy steadied the stretcher by holding the sides, stood up quickly and then straightened to her full height of barely more than five feet. Fletch and Joe both towered over her and were grinning broadly. Wendy looked away, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully at the sight of the approaching figure.
‘I know. Let’s bury Kyle next time.’
‘Mmm.’ Jessica’s quiet tone matched Wendy’s. ‘And let’s not dig him up.’
It was unfortunate that the burst of laughter coincided with Kyle’s small mishap. Picking his way down the hillside a little too eagerly, Kyle had slipped and travelled a short distance in an undignified sitting position. He looked less than pleased as he came to stand beside Kelly.
‘What are you doing standing up, Wendy? You’re supposed to have a spinal injury.’
‘I’m miraculously cured,’ Wendy announced.
Kyle looked around the group. ‘You were supposed to deliver her to ambulance triage,’ he informed them. He looked less than happy to find his authority undermined.
‘There’s nobody there,’ Fletch said patiently. ‘The exercise was location and retrieval, Kyle. We’ve completed that. Very successfully, in fact.’ Fletch was smiling as he nodded. ‘Well done, everyone.’
It annoyed Kelly that she automatically joined in the murmur of agreement and even appreciation. What was it about Neil Fletcher that made people unconsciously welcome and accept his leadership in almost any situation? Ross had been given the role of team leader for this training exercise and assessment but he was looking as happy as everyone else to have won Fletch’s approval.
Kelly looked down the second Fletch’s glance caught hers. She nudged the bright red plastic Stokes basket. ‘I wonder if they want this taken back up the hill.’
‘Doubt it. I think they’ll be able to carry the last victim down by themselves.’ Fletch sounded amused. ‘It’s only a tape recorder after all.’
Kelly hadn’t noticed that the second half of the rescue team had already started its descent. One of their USAR instructors, Dave Stewart, was leading the group, and he had the strap of the case containing the tape recorder over his shoulder. Bursts of laughter punctuated the careful downward journey of the team and Kelly became as curious as everyone else to find out the cause of such amusement.
‘Listen to this, guys.’ Owen, one of the fire officers on the course, reached in front of Dave to push a button on the cassette deck.
The intermittent groans had been recorded by a woman who had clearly enjoyed her role of acting as an injured and trapped victim. The intensity and length of the groans varied and even Kelly had to giggle after a particularly enthusiastic rendition.
‘Kelly!’ Joe sounded shocked. ‘Were you carrying a tape recorder on your last date?’
‘And can I have his phone number?’ Wendy had to raise her voice over the fresh burst of laughter from the group.
‘I should be so lucky!’ Kelly knew that the colour flooding her face would make her casual response less than convincing. She looked away, intending to find something she could focus on while she controlled her embarrassment. Instead, her gaze locked with that of Neil Fletcher. He appeared to be joining in the general mirth but the gaze from the dark hazel eyes was not even remotely amused. It was cold. Disapproving. Angry, even. Kelly gave up any hope of controlling the blush but her colour was no longer due to embarrassment. How could someone else’s anger be so instantly contagious?
‘Good to see that this has been so enjoyable.’ Dave shut off the recording. ‘We would normally have a debriefing of the training exercise here but I’m sure you’re all cold and tired and it’s getting dark. Let’s pack up and get back to school. When we’ve all had a chance to get changed and clean, we’ll get going. We’re booked in for that meal at seven and we can do our debrief over a beer or two before we eat.’
‘Excellent idea.’ Owen and Joe led the move to collect gear. Cans of spray paint, the whiteboard that information about the incident had been recorded on, the Stokes basket, first-aid equipment and a large quantity of other gear was loaded into the luggage compartment of the bus. The large group worked well together, the impression that they were a closely knit team highlighted by their uniform of dark blue overalls, the bright orange safety helmets they wore and the frequent bursts of laughter that punctuated conversations. Everybody was happy to have completed a challenging day of practical work. Nobody was sorry to board the bus and leave the grim playground of the hardfill rubbish tip behind.
The hot shower was blissful. Dressing warmly in her faded, comfortable jeans, a soft shirt and a fluffy llama wool pullover, Kelly bundled up the overalls which were now badly in need of washing and headed for the waiting linen bag in the female change rooms. The area was busy. Jessica was pulling a wide-toothed comb through her shoulder-length auburn curls and Wendy was applying gel to spike her short blonde hair.
‘I can’t come out for this meal,’ Jessica was telling Wendy. ‘Mum needs a break from looking after Ricky. There’s nowhere he can play outside at that motel we’re in and he’ll be bouncing off the walls by now.’
‘Why don’t you just come for the debrief and a drink and not stay for the meal? Or maybe you could ring your mum and get her to meet us there. Pizza restaurants are usually quite happy to have kids around.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t do that.’
‘Why not?’ Wendy spotted Kelly in the mirror. ‘Hey, Kelly! Do you reckon we passed?’
‘We’ll find out soon enough, I guess.’ Kelly was rummaging in her rucksack for a hairbrush. ‘That’s the only reason I’m going out for this meal.’ Today’s exercise had been more than putting theory into practice. It had also been an assessment of some of the skills they needed for qualification.
Jessica looked worried. ‘I suppose I’ll have to come.’
‘Dave and Tony will understand if you can’t,’ Kelly told her. ‘They know about Ricky.’
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have brought him with me.’ Jessica put her comb away. ‘But it seemed like such a great opportunity. He’s never been near a city before and I couldn’t have come if I hadn’t brought him. Mum couldn’t cope on her own for that long.’
‘How old is Ricky?’ Wendy was wielding a mascara wand.
‘Nearly six.’
‘He must be enjoying an extra holiday from school.’
‘He doesn’t go to school yet. He’s…not ready for that.’
Kelly and Wendy exchanged a glance. The undertones were obvious but the close friendship that was developing between the three women had not yet extended to confidences about the problems Jessica’s child clearly faced. Maybe a social occasion was a good idea for reasons other than finding out their test results.
‘Is Ricky’s father around?’ Wendy’s query seemed casual.
‘No.’ Jessica tried to match her tone. ‘I’m single.’
‘Me, too.’ Kelly dragged the brush through long strands of her thick, dark hair. ‘A permanent state, I suspect.’
‘Don’t be too sure. I thought it was for me, too.’ Wendy peered thoughtfully into the mirror. ‘You never know what—or who—might be waiting around the next corner in your life.’
‘Too true.’ The comment carried the weight of absolute sincerity. If Kelly had known that Fletch had been waiting, she would have been very careful to avoid this particular corner.
Jessica was smiling. ‘You’ve only known Ross for two weeks, Wendy. You must be pretty keen on each other if you’re so sure your single state is over.’
‘When you meet the right person you just know.’ Wendy’s smile was confident.
‘And does Ross feel the same way?’ Kelly tried not to sound sceptical. She had felt that way about Fletch once. The euphoria of being in love made you believe all sorts of things that had no basis in reality. She almost shook her head. How could she feel so old and wise at the age of only twenty-eight?
‘I think he did by the end of last weekend.’ Wendy’s confession was shy. ‘We’re going over to the Coast tomorrow. He wants to show me his house.’ Her expression was now dreamy. ‘He wants me to think about going to live with him and working at the Coast hospital.’
Kelly started braiding her hair into a single rope. She didn’t want to hear any more about Wendy’s dreams of a happy future. She didn’t need the reminder of how her own dreams had been crushed. One way and another, this Urban Search and Rescue training course was proving to be a growth experience that was not entirely welcome. She pushed the thought aside and smiled as she made an attempt to change the subject.
‘And if it doesn’t work out with Ross, we all know who’ll be only too keen to step into the breach.’
‘Oh, please!’ Wendy pushed her fingers through her hair to tousle the blonde spikes just a little more. ‘Kyle Dickson gives me the creeps. Every time I look up he’s staring at me.’
‘He fancies you.’ Jessica grinned.
Kelly had a momentary flashback to the stare she had received from Fletch during the teasing at the rubbish tip. Maybe unrequited passion would be a preferable emotion to deal with.
‘Well, it’s not mutual.’ Wendy pulled on a polar fleece jacket. ‘We’d better get going. They’ll be waiting for us in the bus by now.’ Her grin was impish. ‘Hey, it’s Friday night and we’re two-thirds of the way through this course. It’s definitely time to celebrate.’
Jessica checked her watch. ‘It’s nearly six,’ she said despairingly. ‘I can’t come—even for a drink.’
‘Then don’t,’ Kelly advised. ‘Come on. I’ll go with you while you explain things to Dave.’
Kelly was tempted to excuse herself from the outing at the same time but Wendy did have a point. It was Friday night. They had all worked hard throughout the week and it would be nice to relax. The class group of nearly twenty people was large enough to dilute the fact that she would be socialising in the same company as Neil Fletcher, and the likely alternative of spending another evening exercising her persuasive skills to deal with the situation at home found Kelly climbing into the bus quite happily.
The USAR course members made a sizeable group as they entered the popular pizza restaurant and bar housed in one of the more modern suburban shopping malls.
‘Does anybody know what time the pharmacy here shuts?’ Sandy was from a country town well north of Christchurch. Like several other people she was living in during the course at the school’s accommodation facilities. ‘I’ve run out of shampoo.’
‘The supermarket will be open,’ Wendy told her.
‘Does anyone else need anything?’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Kyle announced. ‘I need a new razor.’ At twenty-three, Kyle was the youngest member of the class. He stroked a chin that looked like it was struggling to produce anything more than fluff and then eyed Fletch and Joe, who were collecting orders to take to the bar. ‘Get a beer for me, will you, guys? We won’t be long.’
Kelly chose a single seat at the end of the long table. With no other chairs available, Fletch would be forced to sit at the other end of the table and the conversation there was loud enough to easily drown out the sound of his voice. Things would be far more manageable at this end as far as Kelly was concerned. Dave Stewart was already seated on her left and having an animated conversation with June, a lively woman in her mid-fifties who was probably the oldest of the class members.
‘I was a cop, originally,’ Dave was telling June as Kelly sat down. ‘I’m forty-six now and I’ve spent the last nineteen years with the fire service.’
‘How long have you been involved with USAR?’
On Kelly’s right, Wendy was sitting beside Ross and they, too, were quickly engrossed in their own conversation.
‘It’s true.’ Wendy was laughing. ‘It was because I was fat that I joined the tramping club at school. I wanted to lose weight. Next thing I knew I was hooked and running marathons!’
‘Ever tried the Coast to Coast?’
‘No, but I’d love to. A race across the south island in one day would be the ultimate. I’d need to brush up on my kayaking and cycling times, though.’
‘I did it last year.’
‘Oh, wow!’
Kelly was only half listening to the conversations around her as she kept an eye out for the return of Joe and Fletch. Her colleague and her ex-fiancé. It was kind of ironic that the two men had established such a good friendship over the space of the last two weeks but Kelly was confident that she had dismissed any curiosity on Joe’s part on the first day of the course. During the class introductions, in fact. That session had probably been the hardest of the course so far. Kelly stole a glance at Dave as she remembered how he’d started that first day.
‘You represent a wide group of expertise,’ he’d told them. ‘We have people here from the fire service and the Red Cross. We have paramedics, nurses and doctors. Some of you are from cities and some from rural areas.’ Dave’s smile had been welcoming. ‘I suggest the first thing we do is go around the group and introduce ourselves.’ He’d looked at Kelly. ‘Tell us something about yourself. What you do and how you ended up being on this course.’
‘Um…’ Kelly had swallowed hard. She hadn’t been at all sure she’d even wanted to be on the course any more. Three weeks of sitting in a room with Neil Fletcher? Being reminded of the overwhelming effects that being in love with him had had on both her mind and body? No, thanks.
The silence was loud. Everyone was listening, especially Fletch. Kelly wanted to escape, to run away. But she had never run from anything in her life and she wasn’t about to start.
‘I’m Kelly Drummond,’ she stated clearly. ‘I’m twenty-eight years old and I’ve been with the ambulance service for eight years now. I qualified as a paramedic while I was working in Australia and I just came back to a new job in Christchurch three weeks ago. I guess they decided it would be a good idea to throw me back in at the deep end and give me the challenge of learning about urban search and rescue.’
Joe introduced himself with his usual laid-back confidence. June offered her background of nearly thirty years with the Red Cross, and Owen, Roger and Gerry made it obvious that working together at an inner city fire station gave them a close bond. And then it was the introduction Kelly had been dreading.
‘I’m Neil Fletcher.’ The familiar deep tone was as disconcerting as the first sight of him had been. ‘But, please, call me Fletch because I’m not likely to respond to being called Neil by anyone other than my mother.’
The laughter was general and the ice was broken amongst the group. Even Kelly smiled. She hadn’t forgotten how he hated the name Neil.
Joe poked Kelly in the ribs with his elbow. ‘Didn’t you and Fletch get together for a while? Just before you took off across the ditch?’
‘Not so you’d notice,’ Kelly whispered back. ‘I doubt that he even remembers me.’
Any suspicion that Kelly wasn’t being truthful would have been allayed by the way Fletch had later brushed her off and pretended they were strangers. Kelly was relieved. It would make things a lot easier—at least for the duration of this training course. She was unsurprised. If she’d been in Fletch’s position she wouldn’t want her reputation tarnished either. Dr Fletcher would be more than slightly embarrassed if the sordid details of their break-up ever became public.
‘Are you sure you only wanted an orange juice?’ Joe leaned past Wendy to place a tall glass in front of Kelly.
‘Thanks, Joe. That’s perfect.’
Fletch was right behind Joe. ‘Wine for you, June, and a nice cold beer for you, Wendy.’
‘Oh, excellent! Thanks, Fletch.’ Wendy looked around brightly. ‘Drag a chair over from that table. There’s plenty of room on either side of Kelly.’
‘Of course, she only wanted orange juice.’ Fletch nodded at Joe as he squeezed a chair in between Wendy and Kelly. ‘Does she ever drink anything else?’
‘How do you know that, Fletch?’ Wendy was now completely distracted from her conversation with Ross.
Kelly cringed as she realised she wasn’t the only person interested in the response to the question. She was grateful for Kyle’s intrusion as he and Sandy joined the group again.
‘So, what’s the news?’ Kyle demanded. ‘I hope I haven’t missed the debrief.’
‘Couldn’t start without you, Kyle.’ Dave tapped on his glass with a spoon to call for silence. Kyle edged rapidly down the side of the table and slid into an empty seat next to Owen. Dave cleared his throat.
‘OK, team. Let’s get this debriefing over with. Our pizzas are going to turn up in a minute. You all did a great job today and I’m happy to say you’ve all passed your first practical assessment. Hazard markings, rubble crawl, line and hail search and patient extrication.’
A pleased murmur ran around the group. The three-week USAR course was punctuated by both written and practical assessments and each success took the participants closer to their goal of becoming qualified as members of a very specialised emergency service.
Dave caught Kelly’s glance. ‘Maybe you can get hold of Jessica later and let her know.’
‘Sure.’
‘Where is Jessica?’ June queried. ‘Not sick, I hope?’
‘Family responsibilities,’ Dave said vaguely.
‘Oh…’ June nodded understandingly. ‘Her little boy is a special needs child, isn’t he?’
‘They’re all special needs,’ Joe muttered from Kelly’s side. ‘Kids get in the way of having any fun at all.’
Kelly wondered if Joe realised how evident his disappointment was, but maybe nobody else had noticed the spark of interest that Joe had extinguished the moment Jessica had mentioned having a child.
‘You’ll change your mind one of these days, mate.’ Fletch leaned slightly across Kelly to speak to Joe. ‘I can just see us all meeting for a ten-year class reunion. You’ll probably have six kids by then.’
‘No way.’
‘Grandchildren are great,’ June put in. ‘I’ve just got my second one.’ She chuckled. ‘I’ll probably be a great-grandmother in ten years’ time.’
The relief Kelly had experienced when the conversation had been diverted from her drinking habits was replaced by an inexplicable sadness. Where would she be in ten years’ time? Still focused on a career without any kind of real home or family? Her goals had been so clearly set but she had almost achieved them now. What could she aim for when she had succeeded in helping to sort out her mother’s current situation and cut her own ties to an unhappy past at the same time?
‘You got any children, Fletch?’ Wendy’s query came as Fletch turned his attention to his glass of beer with obvious relish.
‘Not yet, but I’m working on it.’
Kelly was jolted from her own thoughts. She had wondered repeatedly over the last two weeks whether Fletch was in another relationship. The thought of it being meaningful enough to produce children in the foreseeable future gave her a distinctly unpleasant sensation.
‘I intend to one of these days,’ Fletch continued. ‘Unlike Joe, I really enjoy the company of children.’
‘I had four,’ June told him. ‘In fact, it was my daughter that got me involved with Red Cross in the first place.’
Kelly didn’t want to listen to any plans Fletch had to start a family. Once again she was grateful for an interruption from Kyle, who called loudly from the other side of the group.
‘Is that it, Dave?’ He sounded disappointed. ‘For the debrief?’
Dave nodded. ‘We can pick over the details next week. I think we need some time out. And some food.’ He waved at the waitresses carrying huge wooden platters in their direction. ‘I hope you’re coming our way.’
Kelly was hungry enough to enjoy the slice of Mexican pizza laden with hot peppers and sour cream. She had a slice of the vegetarian pizza that was offered next. The conversations around her were becoming increasingly difficult to hear as laughter from the other end of the table increased. Soon they were all listening to Gerry giving a convincing imitation of the kind of groaning they had heard the taped ‘victim’ uttering. Kyle was clearly more amused than anyone else as they rehashed their search for the groaning woman.
‘I was sure we were going to find two people trapped under there.’ Owen laughed.
‘Would have been a sin to disturb them.’ Roger chuckled and then winked at Kelly who smiled briefly before shifting her gaze.
Kyle took the opportunity to interrupt the last pocket of conversation left at the table. ‘That’s not the way we’d do it,’ he informed the fireman beside him.
‘You’re a volunteer firefighter, Kyle.’ The older man sounded tolerant. ‘In a small, rural district. How much experience of big blazes do you get?’
‘Enough,’ Kyle responded defensively. ‘We’ve had a serial arsonist at work for months now. The school got torched. And the church.’
‘I read about that.’ Roger looked interested. ‘Have they caught the arsonist yet?’
‘Probably kids,’ Joe muttered.
‘No.’ Kyle clearly still wanted to prove his credentials. He ignored the distraction. ‘Besides, I use the internet a lot. I’ve learned heaps about major fires. And USAR stuff.’ Green eyes brightened as he grinned at the audience he’d collected. ‘I’ve downloaded some great pictures of the Oklahoma bombing. I’ll bring them in next week and show you.’
Roger had lost interest. He collected his empty beer glass and stood up. ‘Can I get anybody another drink?’ Spotting Kelly’s empty glass, he moved down the length of the table. ‘What are you having, Kelly?’
‘I’m fine for now, thanks.’
But Roger was reaching for her glass. ‘What was it? Vodka and orange?’
Fletch’s raised eyebrow was uncalled for. His look of amusement was even more irritating.
‘I don’t want another drink, thanks, Roger.’
Fletch was still looking amused. ‘Very wise, Kelly. You don’t want to overindulge.’
Kelly forgot her intention to maintain the pretence they were strangers. She didn’t like being patronised.
‘You’re certainly experienced enough in that department to be in a position to give advice.’ Her tone was light-hearted enough to make Roger grin.
‘So…you’ve got a reputation, have you, Dr Fletcher? How come Kelly knows and we don’t?’
‘There’s nothing to know.’ Fletch managed to sound convincingly surprised.
‘Oh, come on.’ Roger was still grinning. ‘What was it, Kelly? A past filled with wine, women and wild parties?’
‘Something like that,’ Kelly agreed.
‘How do you know?’ Wendy looked curious. ‘You weren’t one of the women, were you?’
Joe was also looking at Kelly. His raised eyebrow expressed surprise that she’d got herself into this verbal corner. His shrug suggested that he couldn’t think of any way to help extricate his colleague.
‘I’m sure she was.’ Roger’s glance was appreciative. ‘If Fletch had any taste, that is.’
‘Taste was never one of my strongest points.’ Fletch’s grin made the comment a joke to everyone other than Kelly. ‘Except for beer,’ he added. ‘I’ll come with you if you’re heading for the bar, Rog.’ He stood up.
‘Sure.’ But Roger wasn’t ready to move quite yet. He was still looking at Kelly, his curiosity unsatisfied. Fletch noticed the unspoken question as he waited. He shrugged offhandedly.
‘Kelly and I knew each other,’ he said casually. ‘It was a long time ago. Before she went to Australia. And it was no big deal, was it, Kelly?’
‘No.’ Kelly’s smile felt tight but she held Fletch’s gaze as steadily as she could. ‘It was no big deal.’
But it had been. Kelly had to force herself to break the eye contact with Fletch. It felt like a physical connection and it was suddenly unbearable. Their time together had certainly been a long time ago and maybe it hadn’t been a big deal for Fletch, but it had been big for her. As big as it got. Kelly tried to shake off the dismay that threatened to overwhelm her as Fletch turned to walk away.
Maybe it still was.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_5b3ea5a7-d63d-53d8-8265-7ecfeb7cc38c)
SHE was late.
Neil found he was watching Kelly’s hurried entrance to the classroom with as much attention as everyone else. There was a flush of colour on her cheeks that suggested annoyance. That figured. Kelly set high standards for herself and attracting attention by being late would not be acceptable behaviour. The long, dark ponytail swung across her back as she turned to push the door shut.
‘Sorry I’m late.’ Clearly embarrassed by disrupting a session that had already started, Kelly sat down beside Joe, flashing a rueful smile at her colleague before opening her rucksack to extract writing materials. Fletch wondered if the smile meant that Joe was privy to personal circumstances that had provided an unwelcome obstacle to her arriving on time. Unaccountably, the thought provoked a feeling of irritation.
‘No problem, Kelly.’ Dave wasn’t feeling irritated. He was smiling at Kelly. ‘Except that you’re going to be running the first session this morning.’
‘What?’ Kelly’s jaw dropped and Fletch suppressed the twinge of sympathy that replaced the irritation. Why should he care that her composure was now thoroughly ruffled? Why had she been running late, anyway? Had she slept in? Had someone been sharing her bed? Fletch settled back in his chair with an uncharacteristic frown. He wasn’t going to help her out. No way.
Neither was her friend, Joe. ‘We took a vote,’ he told her cheerfully. ‘And you’re it.’
Kelly looked frankly worried now. Already dark blue eyes looked almost brown and a vertical crease appeared between them. Lord, had he forgotten what those glimpses of vulnerability had done to him? He had to fight the temptation to step in, to say something encouraging or comforting. She could cope. The Kelly Drummond Fletch had known had never backed away from a challenge. She didn’t need anyone’s support and she certainly wasn’t about to get his.
‘Cool.’ The tiny head shake confirmed that Kelly was ready to handle whatever was about to be thrown in her direction. ‘What is it? Hide and seek in the rubbish tip again?’
The groan was general. Some class members were still feeling the effects of that full-scale scenario.
Dave shook his head as he smiled. ‘Today’s session, as Kelly is about to find out, is medical. We’re going to focus on developing basic skills in patient assessment, resuscitation and trauma management.’
Dave’s attention shifted away from Kelly. It had only taken a few days for the class to divide itself into two distinct groups and Dave was directing his next words towards the less medically qualified course members who had come from the ranks of the fire service and civil defence.
‘As USAR team members you may well be the first to reach an injured person. You may, in fact, be their only contact for some time. The team you are part of may not be fortunate enough to have the kind of medical expertise that we have represented here.’
Dave’s glance returned to Fletch’s side of the room. ‘Today’s course module will be redundant for some of you—Fletch and Ross as doctors, Joe and Kelly as paramedics and Wendy, Jessica and Sandy as nurses. It’s not just because Tony and I feel like a day off that we’re turning these sessions over to you guys. I expect we’re going to learn something, too. We intend to take full advantage of your skills and knowledge.’
‘Especially Kelly’s.’ Joe sounded smug.
‘Your turn is coming, Joe.’ Dave smiled at Kelly. ‘Your name just came out of the hat first. I hope you’ll all keep in mind that we’re going for a strong emphasis on practical skills today. We’re learning what we need to use in the field.’
‘I’m hardly the most qualified person to start,’ Kelly reminded Dave. ‘You’ve got an emergency department consultant here, you know.’
The emphasis rankled. Was it so hard for her to use his name? To make him a person instead of a profession? Or had Kelly been surprised to discover that Fletch had gone from a registrar position to a consultancy in the space of only two years? Maybe thirty-two was young to have achieved such a senior position but it hadn’t been easy. He’d worked extremely hard and he deserved his success. Everyone was looking at him now. Except Kelly.
‘I disagree,’ Fletch said calmly. ‘By and large the trauma patients that turn up in Emergency have already been assessed and neatly packaged by the ambulance service. We work under controlled conditions with plenty of equipment and staff available. Hardly what we’re going to encounter in a USAR call-out.’
Dave nodded his agreement. ‘Don’t worry, Kelly. You won’t have to do it all by yourself. Your task is to take us through a primary survey. Ross is going to do vital signs and CPR. Joe’s going to cover immobilisation techniques. Fletch is going to talk about shock and Wendy and Jessica are going to cover treatment of soft tissue injuries. This afternoon we’ll try and pull it all together with some scenario work in small groups.’ Dave gestured towards the space he had left at the front of the class. ‘Over to you, Kelly. Let’s get stuck in.’
Kelly looked quite relaxed as she moved to lean against the table at the front of the room, but that was because most people wouldn’t know that the habit of tucking a tendril of dark hair behind her right ear only surfaced when she was nervous. Fletch knew. He also knew what she looked like when that magnificent mane of hair was unleashed from its restraint…when it fell like the softest curtain imaginable to screen a slim, naked back.
Shutting his eyes to kill the memories the sight of Kelly’s hair evoked, and shutting his mind to the emotional effect that kicked in like a bad aftertaste, Fletch tried to concentrate on what the young paramedic was saying.
‘A primary survey is a means of identifying life-threatening situations or injuries in order to treat them appropriately at the earliest opportunity.’
Fletch opened his eyes again. Now it was her voice that was stirring emotions he would rather not explore. It was a voice that had haunted him for months after she’d left. Deceptively soft, it belied a determination and courage that had been one of the qualities Fletch had admired most in this woman. He sighed inwardly. Last week he’d thought he’d had this unexpected reunion taped. He could handle seeing Kelly again. It made no difference. Had that brief confrontation at the pizza restaurant when they had made an acknowledgement, albeit understated, of a past relationship been enough to change things? Or was his resistance just wearing thin? Why was it that things that one knew to be self-destructive were still capable of exerting such a powerful attraction?
‘Assuming that the scene has been made safe enough for us to approach our patient, what’s the first thing we’re going to do to start our primary survey?’ Warming to her role as tutor, Kelly had written a series of letters on a whiteboard—S, L, A, B, C, D and E. S had just become the word safety.
Kyle, as usual, was the most eager to respond. ‘See if they’ve got a pulse.’
‘Are we going to check their breathing?’ June was a grey-haired woman with many years’ experience in civil defence work.
‘Good,’ Kelly responded. ‘But what will we do as part of, or even before, that check?’
‘Talk to them,’ June expanded. ‘Ask them if they’re OK.’
Kelly ignored Kyle’s dismissive head shake. ‘That’s exactly right, June. In other words, we’re going to determine our patient’s level of consciousness.’
Kyle slumped down in his chair and fiddled with his pen. Fletch watched as Kelly caught the attention of more people on the other side of the room.
‘We won’t worry about the more complicated methods of assessing LOC, like the Glasgow coma scale. Basically, we’re going to find out if the patient is spontaneously responsive or whether he responds to vocal or painful stimuli.’
The group of men sitting near June were all listening carefully now. Owen was the oldest of the four fire officers from various city stations.
‘What kind of painful stimuli are we going to use?’
‘What about a pen?’ Roger looked pleased to attract Kelly’s notice. ‘You put it between the fingers and then squeeze them together. Hurts a lot.’
Pens got picked up around the group and experimented with. Fletch was more interested in watching Roger. Why hadn’t he noticed before that the younger fireman was rather good-looking? That he wasn’t taking his own gaze off Kelly? Had Fletch missed something brewing between those two in the last couple of weeks? Roger had certainly been determined to find out what the past connection between Fletch and Kelly had been. If he was interested, then good luck to him, Fletch thought bitterly. He had no idea what he was letting himself in for.
‘Try a knuckle rub on the sternum,’ Kelly told the group. ‘Just as painful and you don’t need to go hunting for a pen. OK. Let’s say there’s no response. What next?’
‘See if they’re breathing?’
‘Sure.’ Kelly nodded at Kyle’s suggestion. ‘But there’s something else we might need to do before that.’
Roger’s gaze was still locked on their novice instructor. As though he felt the observation he was under from Fletch, Roger looked up. He stared back at Fletch for just long enough to issue an unspoken challenge.
‘What could interfere with someone’s ability to breathe?’ Kelly prompted.
‘Oedema,’ Wendy responded. ‘Soft tissue injury.’
‘Being dead,’ Fletch suggested dryly.
Joe snorted with laughter. ‘Yep. That’ll do it every time.’
Kelly’s lips quirked. A tiny, one-sided curl and quick correction that Fletch recognised as easily as her hair-tucking gesture. A sign that his black humour had amused her but it was not appropriate to indulge the response. How often had Fletch deliberately evoked that quirk in the past? A private joke subtly hinted at in front of a patient, a not-so-subtle murmur in her ear as he passed. Did Roger have any idea how easily Kelly’s sense of humour could be tickled? Fletch had always been able to make her laugh and he had taken enormous pleasure in doing so, especially when she’d been stressed or unhappy. Sometimes she’d appeared to be under perfect control but he’d known she’d still been laughing on the inside. A sparkle of glee had made those gorgeous blue eyes dance and Fletch had been able to hug the satisfaction that he had been the one to provide that enjoyment.
Not that there was any hint of sparkle this time. The look that Kelly threw both Fletch and Joe was purely exasperated. She walked towards the firemen. ‘Owen, pretend you’re a disaster victim.’
‘No pretence needed,’ Gerry quipped. ‘He is a disaster.’
This time Kelly acknowledged the humour with a real smile. A quick grin that gave Fletch an odd sensation, as though he’d been kicked in the stomach by someone wearing very soft shoes.
‘You’ve been trapped for a long time in a collapsed building,’ Kelly continued. ‘You’re sitting against a wall. Your leg is caught under a timber beam. Oxygen level’s getting low. You’re in pain from a fractured femur and you’ve been bleeding from a laceration on your arm. Your blood pressure’s dropping. Rescue isn’t far away. You’ve been listening to them getting closer for hours now but you can’t hold out any longer. You lose consciousness.’
Obligingly, Owen made a gagging sound and his chin dropped to his chest.
‘Excellent!’ Kelly’s grin was broader this time. ‘What’s happening now?’
‘He’s snoring,’ Roger observed.
‘As usual,’ added Gerry.
‘He’s obstructed his airway,’ Jessica informed them.
‘And if he’s unconscious he won’t be able to correct it.’ Kelly nodded. ‘It could lead to a respiratory arrest and death, despite imminent rescue and non-life-threatening injuries. So—we get into the space. There’s no response. What do we do?’ Kelly pointed at Owen’s mouth. ‘We’d do a rapid finger sweep just to check that his false teeth haven’t fallen out and then…’ She took Owen’s chin with one hand and his forehead with the other and as she tilted his head back to open the airway the snoring sound stopped. ‘Now we can assess his breathing.’
Safety, level of consciousness, airway, breathing and circulation were covered within twenty minutes. Assessing the level of disability and exposing the chest and abdomen to assess injuries took another fifteen minutes. Kelly was relaxed now and enjoying herself. She teamed the non-medical members of the class with partners who could coach them when she directed a practice of the skills she had covered. Amidst the lack of confidence some people had to overcome and the humour that lightened the more serious aspects of the subject was a willingness to learn and a new respect for someone who had been one of the quieter members of the class up till now.
‘Kelly, my patient reckons he’s bleeding to death from a ruptured artery. Do I fix that before the airway?’
‘If he’s telling you he’s bleeding to death, his airway’s fine. You can’t talk if you’re not breathing. You’re onto circulation straight up in this case. Get some direct pressure onto the bleed.’ Kelly looked up to address everyone in the room.
‘Remember we’re trying to identify the life-threatening problems in order to deal with them quickly. Don’t move on to the next item on the agenda until you’ve managed whatever problem you find.’
‘What if they stop breathing when you’ve finished the checklist?’ Kyle was kneeling beside June with his hand gripping her wrist.
‘Then go back to the beginning and start again. There are three things that are going to kill people very quickly—respiratory arrest, cardiac arrest and severe haemorrhage. We have to identify and try to rectify those situations.’
Dave called a halt to the session. ‘That was fantastic, Kelly. Thanks.’
The spontaneous applause from her students made Kelly blush but she looked happy. Somehow, that irritated Fletch. Or was it that Roger’s appreciation was so noticeable that was the annoying factor?
‘We’ve spent over an hour learning some very important skills but don’t forget what Kelly said. A primary survey should only take thirty to sixty seconds.’ Dave paused for a moment as a few people made some last-minute notes. ‘Ross is going to run us through what vital signs are and how to measure and record them. Then we’ll have a break for morning tea.’
The break was welcome. Fletch had not enjoyed the morning so far. He felt out of sorts. The unwelcome memories Kelly had stirred surely weren’t entirely responsible for his mood. He had learned to deal with those memories long ago and he couldn’t care less if the attraction that Roger the fireman was advertising was reciprocated. The irritation was augmented by a faint touch of nausea that Fletch knew he couldn’t blame on the odd beer or two he’d had with a mate the night before. He knew what the cause was likely to be and he headed for the men’s toilet with a decisive stride as soon as Dave signalled the timetable break.
The small pouch fitted into the back pocket of his jeans as neatly as a wallet. Fletch unzipped the pouch and removed the contents. He was so focused on his task that it wasn’t until the door swung open behind him that Fletch realised his mistake.
‘Damn!’ The drop of blood fell from the end of his finger and splattered the side of the ceramic handbasin.
‘Fletch!’ Ross Turnball sounded shocked. ‘What are you doing, mate?’ He stepped closer. ‘Oh…I had no idea.’
Fletch had a new drop of blood on his finger now. He touched the end of the test strip to the drop and watched the blood travel up the central line. The beep signified that the device had started its measurement. The result was only thirty seconds away. Fletch rinsed his finger, still cursing inwardly that he’d forgotten to shut himself into the privacy of a cubicle.
‘It’s not something I advertise,’ he told Ross curtly.
‘Are you insulin dependent?’
‘No.’ Fletch smiled wryly. ‘Quite the opposite.’
Ross raised an eyebrow. ‘That sounds unusual.’
Fletch pulled the test strip from the device and threw it away. ‘Four point one,’ he murmured. ‘I just need a bit of morning tea.’ He glanced at Ross as he packed away his kit. ‘It’s a long story,’ he said casually. ‘Remind me to bore you with it some time.’
Low blood sugar was not the culprit as far as Fletch’s mood was concerned. Maybe it was being close to Kelly that was disturbing his equilibrium after all. With a cup of coffee in one hand and two biscuits in the other, Fletch moved away from the class group. He found a seat around the side of the building that had the advantage of being in full sunshine, but the pleasant solitary respite didn’t last long.
‘OK, I’m dead curious.’ Ross sat down beside Fletch. ‘You can tell me it’s none of my business but my professional instincts are making me nosy. How long have you been a diabetic?’
‘Two years.’
‘And you get hypoglycaemic even though you don’t take insulin?’
‘Not too often these days, fortunately,’ Fletch responded. ‘I still need to keep a close eye on my levels, though, especially if I’m not well or under stress or miss a meal or something.’ He bit into a biscuit. ‘I just don’t usually make it public.’
Ross nodded. He sipped his own coffee before breaking a thoughtful silence. ‘How were you diagnosed?’
‘Hypoglycaemic crisis,’ Fletch said quietly. ‘Rather a dramatic one, apparently. A taxi driver left me in the middle of the road. Someone called an ambulance and said I was so drunk I was a danger to myself. I was having a grand mal seizure by the time I got delivered to the emergency department and went into a coma after that.’
‘Good grief! Sounds like a major crisis.’ Ross stared at his companion. ‘Did you have some kind of insulin-secreting tumour?’
Fletch looked impressed. ‘You’re more clued up that my doctors were. I was in the intensive care unit for three days before they came up with a definitive diagnosis.’
Ross was nodding. ‘An insulin-secreting islet cell carcinoma. Not malignant, I guess, or you wouldn’t be looking like you do now two years down the track.’
‘No. I’d be dead,’ Fletch agreed. He grinned. ‘Never a good look.’ His smile faded. ‘Waiting to find out whether it was malignant or not wasn’t much of a joke.’
‘I’ll bet it wasn’t.’
‘It was a rough ride all round, actually. I had a partial pancreatectomy. When I got through the complications of pancreatitis and amazed the specialists by surviving, it was decided that my prognosis wasn’t so bad after all. I was in hospital for ten weeks altogether and I came out looking like I’d spent time in a concentration camp. It was another three months before I was back at work.’
Ross shook his head. ‘Amazing story, Fletch.’
‘Not one that I want spread around, mate. I don’t let it interfere with my life but some people would be inclined to regard it as an obstacle to a reliable performance.’
Ross nodded briefly. ‘Nobody will hear anything from me.’ He gave Fletch a curious glance. ‘This wouldn’t have anything to do with the hint of an atmosphere I detected between you and Kelly the other night, would it?’
‘You could say that.’ Fletch’s tone was grim. ‘We were an item…briefly. When she found out how sick I was she decided she didn’t want to deal with it. She left a message with my flatmate to say she wasn’t hanging around. I came out of my coma to find I’d been dumped.’
Ross whistled silently. ‘Hard to believe anyone could be that callous.’
Fletch’s snort was derisive. ‘One way to test a relationship, I guess. I reckon she did me a favour in the long run.’
‘I’ll bet it didn’t feel like it at the time.’
‘It was a fair kick in the pants,’ Fletch agreed lightly. ‘Along with the glimpse of my own mortality, it made me sort out my priorities. I concentrated on getting fit and then took a good look at my career. I’d been cruising for too long. Having fun and not taking anything too seriously. That had a big shake-up.’
‘No more wine, women and wild parties, then?’
‘Wasn’t difficult.’ The lopsided smile was a little poignant. ‘Kelly cured me of trusting women and I got too involved in post-grad studies to have time for any parties—not that they were that wild, anyway. I got my consultancy last year and I have big plans for where the emergency department is heading. Disaster management strategy and this USAR stuff is just my latest hobby.’ Fletch stood up. ‘Speaking of which, we’d better head back inside, mate, before we start any rumours.’
The subject matter had made it an easy day for Kelly. If only she didn’t have the background worry about what was happening at home right now, it would have been a very enjoyable day. There had been no answer to her phone call at lunchtime. How long could it take to visit someone and tell them face to face that there was no going back? That decisions had been made and would not be changed. Face-to-face meetings were dangerous, Kelly knew that. But maybe her mother was right in saying that such a confrontation was essential for closure. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t been brave enough to do it herself that had left this uncomfortable impression that there was unfinished business between herself and Neil Fletcher.
Not that Fletch seemed bothered. If it had been an easy day for Kelly, it must have been downright boring for the emergency medicine specialist. The session he had taken on shock had been excellent. Unfortunately, Kelly had been distracted from using the tutor’s expertise to advance her own knowledge. The excuse to observe Fletch for such a long period of time had been irresistible and it was the first time she had allowed her gaze to remain on the man for more than a second or two.
Two years had left their mark. Fletch looked thinner. The brown hair was worn a little shorter these days and were those highlights still sun-streaked blond or had some grey crept into those soft waves? Kelly’s fingers actually tingled as the memory surfaced of just how soft those waves were.
‘So. We’ve defined shock as a state of wide-spread inadequate perfusion at a cellular level. What are the things we need for adequate perfusion?’
Kelly glanced away as Fletch looked in her direction. She wasn’t about to contribute any suggestions. She was too busy trying to figure out what the difference in Fletch’s appearance was. It wasn’t anything physical making him seem so unfamiliar. It was something to do with his manner. He was scribbling on a whiteboard now. Perfusion relied on a functioning pump, an intact set of plumbing and an appropriate volume and content of fluid. Fletch was making the physiology lecture very user friendly for non-medical people. Even funny at times.
That was it. That was the difference. Fletch’s humour and his smile had a different quality. It was more restrained and less frequent. Fletch had never been a serious type. The way he had made Kelly laugh had been why she had fallen in love with him in the first place. Virtually the moment they’d first met. Kelly could remember that first meeting as though it had happened yesterday. Fletch had been a new registrar in Emergency and Kelly had come in with a patient at the end of a long, hard day. The patient had been drunk—found comatose under a hedge with two empty rum bottles nearby. His level of consciousness had improved enough for him to become abusive on the way into hospital and Kelly had had enough. Finishing a long day with her least favourite type of case had been enough to noticeably test her professional manner.
‘This man presented with a GCS of eight, hypotension and bradycardia,’ Kelly informed the triage nurse. ‘There is evidence of an ETOH overdose.’
Fletch heard the tail end of Kelly’s handover as he walked past. He glanced at the empty rum bottles now lying on the end of the stretcher. He leaned towards the triage nurse and spoke in a stage whisper.
‘The technical medical term is “totally pissed”.’
Kelly controlled her threatened giggle more effectively than the triage nurse.
‘We don’t have any details on the patient other than his surname.’ Kelly took another glance at Fletch who seemed in no hurry to move away. ‘Which appears to be Ikkey.’ She spelt it out.
Fletch looked thoughtful. ‘Icky,’ he repeated. He eyed the evidence of recent vomiting on the stretcher blanket and then winked at Kelly. ‘He is, rather, isn’t he? That’s another technical term I went to med school to learn,’ he added to the nurse beside them.
‘Cubicle three.’ The triage nurse was grinning broadly now. ‘Fletch, he’s all yours. In fact, we’ll make sure you get every icky patient that comes in from now on.’
‘I don’t know,’ Fletch grumbled. ‘Here I am sharing my professional knowledge and what thanks do I get for it?’
The humour rescued Kelly’s day and it was so easy to accept that first invitation for a date with the new registrar. That humour underpinned the whole relationship, in fact. Fletch could make anything funny and yet his jokes often displayed a real sensitivity. They helped to achieve a closeness that Kelly had never had with anyone before. Or since. She loved that sense of humour more than anything about Fletch. Not that he couldn’t be serious when he needed to be. He could turn it off in an instant and look intense and serious. Like he did when dealing with an emergency. Or, in a very different way, when he was about to make love to her.
Oh, help! Kelly had to shut her eyes to stifle that particular jog down memory lane. There was no point going there. Things had changed. Fletch had changed. Maybe he’d grown up finally and the change had made him more trustworthy. No. Kelly clamped that train of thought down as well. Her father had taught her only too well how little credence could be placed on any promises or even intentions of becoming trustworthy when it came to that kind of behaviour. And it wouldn’t make any difference now, anyway. Not with the opinion Fletch now held of her.
Joe’s session on immobilisation techniques had been a lot more fun. The quips about bondage and the good-natured teasing of Wendy and Ross now that their relationship was public had made the time pass swiftly. Wendy, Jessica and Sandy had made a good job of soft tissue injury management and the practical scenario at the end of the day would have been a great way to finish if only their instructors hadn’t put her and Fletch into the same group, where she’d also had Kyle to contend with. Wendy had been coerced into being a patient again. This time she had been a crush injury victim with a slab of concrete on her leg. Cardboard boxes had represented the hazards they had marked and the surrounding debris had been removed, allowing access to their victim.
‘Hi, there, Wendy.’ Fletch shifted a last piece of ‘rubble’. ‘Here we are, finally.’
‘Check her airway,’ Kyle said excitedly. He reached out and Wendy ducked her head instinctively to avoid the physical contact.
Kelly suppressed a sigh. ‘We’ve been talking to her through the wall, Kyle. She’s been answering us. She’s told us she doesn’t have any breathing problems. There’s no sound of respiratory distress and her respirations are normal depth and rate. We can probably assume her airway is patent.’
Tony was supervising their scenario. ‘Airway is patent,’ he told them, ‘but the respiration rate is 30 and shallow. What are you going to do next, Kelly?’
‘Check circulation.’
Kyle reached for Wendy’s wrist. ‘Good radial pulse,’ he said happily.
‘No.’ Tony shook his head. ‘Pulse is weak and thready. Tachycardia of 120.’
‘I’ll do a body sweep.’ Kelly smiled at Wendy’s look of relief as she got in before Kyle to run her hands down each side of their ‘patient’s’ body.
‘No evidence of major haemorrhage,’ Tony confirmed.
‘We’re assessing the general condition as we look at our patient,’ Fletch contributed. ‘Her colour is good and she’s not diaphoretic.’
Tony smiled. ‘Your patient is pale, sweaty and cool to touch.’
‘We want to check for neck tenderness and put a C-collar on if it’s indicated.’
‘No neck pain,’ Tony decided.
‘She’s in shock,’ Kelly said. ‘We need to get an IV line in and start some fluids.’
Wendy gave a convincing groan. ‘My leg hurts,’ she moaned.
‘We need some pain relief on board as well,’ Fletch murmured.
Kyle shook his head impatiently. ‘Her leg hurts because she’s got a dirty big bit of concrete on top of it,’ he stated. ‘What we need to do first is get rid of it.’ He made a show of putting real effort into shifting the polystyrene ‘concrete’ slab. ‘Now we can extricate her,’ he announced with satisfaction. ‘Let’s go, team.’
‘No hurry now, Kyle,’ Fletch said dryly. ‘You’ve probably just killed our patient.’
Kyle’s grin faded as it dawned on him that Fletch was being serious.
‘That was a large piece of concrete, Kyle. Fortunately it would have taken more than one person to shift it, which would have given us time to give some prophylactic treatment for a crush injury.’
‘But it was the concrete causing the injury. The sooner it gets shifted the better. It’s hardly likely to kill her.’
‘Actually, it could,’ Kelly told Kyle. ‘We were told in the scenario set-up that Wendy had been trapped like this for more than twenty-four hours. Crushed tissue exudes toxins and when you move the weight the toxins get released into the body. The patient can die very suddenly and very quickly due to a cardiac arrhythmia.’
Kyle’s face tightened angrily and his voice rose. ‘How the hell am I supposed to know something like that?’
‘You’re not,’ Tony said quietly. ‘The lesson here is that no unilateral decisions should be made. Especially by the least medically experienced person on the team.’
Other groups in the classroom had finished their scenario work. Kyle’s angry query had attracted attention and people edged closer to see what was going on with the crush injury scenario.
‘How would you have dealt with this, Kelly?’ Tony queried.
‘I’ve only dealt with one serious crush injury victim before and we worked under a radio link to an emergency department at a major hospital in Melbourne.’ Kelly searched her memory eagerly. ‘We gave a huge fluid loading of four or five litres of saline. We didn’t have some of the drugs indicated so we had to make do with what we had. We gave Ventolin and glucose and insulin and I think it was atropine.’ Kelly frowned. ‘It’s a while ago now.’ She looked directly at Fletch without hesitating. ‘How would you deal with it?’
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/alison-roberts/consultant-in-crisis/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.