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Emergency At Bayside
CAROL MARINELLI


Secrets and seduction in A&EEmergency sister Meg O’Sullivan has come to Bayside Hospital to start afresh as a determined singleton after discovering her ex-boyfriend has married. But tired and dazed after a traumatic first day, she finds herself upside down in her car staring into the eyes of a gorgeous man.Dr. Flynn Kelsey risks his own life to save Meg, and they discover they are colleagues. As they deal with emergencies together their attraction becomes explosive and their raw emotions intense. Meg can barely resist. And then she sees a photo of Flynn’s wedding…







Flynn watched the tears squeezing out of her closed eyes and, realising he was distressing her further, decided instead to try a different track.

‘We’ll go through it all later, at the hospital. Let’s talk about nicer things. Tell me about yourself, Meg. Come on, Meg. If I’m going to stay with you, the least you can do is talk to me.’ His voice was sharp, forcing her out of her slumber. ‘Have you got a husband, a boyfriend? Tell me about him.’

‘We broke up.’

‘Ouch.’ He gave a low laugh. ‘Trust me to say the wrong thing.’

She opened her eyes a fraction, wincing at the bright morning sun glimpsed through the broken tree. ‘He was cheating.’

That was a simple way of putting it, but she was too tired and it was all just too damn complicated to explain.

‘Then he’s a fool,’ Flynn said decisively. ‘Forget him.’


Emergency at Bayside

Carol Marinelli














www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




CONTENTS


Chapter One (#u9bf00127-6a6f-5e72-9ded-327a4305eb24)

Chapter Two (#u3013f819-0e93-5826-abf2-7516a4276e57)

Chapter Three (#ue0706d3f-ab87-5995-a4fb-91a40790f616)

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)




CHAPTER ONE


PULLING off her ID tag and stethoscope, Meg threw them into her locker and, as the changing room was empty, expended some of her frustration by slamming the door shut, then, for good measure, slammed it hard once again.

It didn’t help.

She hadn’t really expected it too.

‘Morning, Meg.’ Jess ran in and without pausing for breath started to undress at lightning speed. ‘This is the first time in more than thirty years of nursing I’ve been late. Can you believe it?’

Had it been anyone else Meg wouldn’t have believed it, but coming from Jess it was probably true. Trained in the days of starched uniforms and matrons, Jess ruled her world by the little silver fob watch neatly pinned to her crisp white blouse.

‘Was that Carla the student nurse I saw leaving here in tears?’

Meg nodded but didn’t elaborate—a move she knew would infuriate Jess, who liked to keep her finger on everyone’s pulse.

‘I thought she was doing really well; at least she has been on days.’ Jess’s Irish accent was as strong and sharp as Meg’s own mother’s. Maybe that was the reason Meg’s defences seemed to go on high alert whenever Jess approached; she always felt as if she were about to be scolded. ‘So, what did you have to tell her off about?’ Jess wasn’t being nosey—well, maybe a bit—but as they were both Associate Charge Nurses, any problems with the staff had to be discussed.

‘I wasn’t telling her off.’ Meg had pulled on her shorts and T-shirt and was now concentrating on combing the long dark curls, that had been clipped up all night, into some sort of shape before tying her hair loosely into a ponytail. ‘She was just upset about a patient we had in last night.’

‘Oh, were you busy?’

‘No, we were actually quiet for once, which was just as well.’ Meg paused before continuing, taking out her scrunchy and combing her hair again before adding, ‘We lost a child last night.’

Jess stopped filling her pockets with scissors, forceps and the other paraphernalia that Emergency nurses seemed to magic up at appropriate moments and stood still for a moment. ‘How old?’

‘Two.’ This was where most nurses would have gone into detail. Sat on the bench and told their colleague about the little kid who had been in the bath with no one watching him. The tiny lifeless bundle the paramedics had run in with. The prolonged resuscitation that everyone had known was useless, but no one had wanted to be the one to call. The agony of talking to the parents. The utter desolation at such a senseless waste of a promising young life.

But not Meg.

Meg finished her hair and turned around. ‘I’m the peer support person for Emergency so I thought I ought to go over it with her. She’s still pretty upset; it was her first death,’ Meg added.

‘Poor Carla.’ Jess took a deep breath. ‘Sure, your first death’s bad enough when it’s a ninety-year-old, but to have a child… Would you like me to have a quiet word with her?’ Jess’s intentions were well meant, but Meg shook her head.

‘She’s off for a couple of days—the break will be good for her. But I might get her phone number and give her a ring—see if she wants to catch up for a coffee and go over anything again.’

‘What about you, Meg?’ Jess’s voice was wary; she was unsure of the reaction she might get. ‘Do you want to talk about it? I mean, I know you’re the peer support person, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to go over things.’ She waited for a response but Meg just stood there. ‘If you’re upset….’

‘I’m fine; this sort of thing comes with the territory. It was hard on Carla because she hadn’t witnessed anything like it before; I’m used to it.’

‘I know. It’s just—’ Jess swallowed hard ‘—this sort of thing affects us all, and if you do need to talk I’m here for you.’

Meg gave a dismissive smile. ‘I’m fine, Jess. Honestly.’

To be fair, Jess might be a little irritating, might be a drama queen, but Meg knew she meant well, and had they been sitting in the staff room with a cup of coffee, then maybe she would have opened up a bit. But that was the problem with debriefing, with peer support or trauma counselling, or whatever new name Admin dreamed up for it: sometimes emotions couldn’t just be switched on. Jess—busy, rushing to start her shift—together with Meg—weary, teary and ready to go home—wasn’t exactly the ideal combination. It just wasn’t going to happen this morning.

Jess knew when a conversation was over and decided not to push it, instead choosing sensibly to change the subject. ‘Are you staying to meet the new consultant?’

‘I’d forgotten about that. Is it this morning he starts, then?’

‘Yep, the canteen’s even putting on a breakfast in the staff room. Surely you’re not going to miss out on a free feed and the chance to meet the new boy wonder?’

Meg gave a wry smile. ‘He doesn’t sound that wonderful to me. From what I’ve heard, Flynn Kelsey has spent the last two years doing research.’

‘Ah, but his research has all been in trauma and resuscitation.’ Jess wagged a finger. ‘It’s all relevant—at least that’s the propaganda being fed to us from Admin. The truth is, they’re just relieved someone’s actually taken up the position; poor old Dr Campbell can hardly run the department alone. Who knows? They might have actually got it right for once and Flynn Kelsey will turn out to be the fantastic doctor that they’re promising.’

‘If he’s that good, what was he doing with his head buried in books for the last two years? Hands-on experience is more relevant,’ Meg said firmly. ‘We can all sit and read about it. Rolling your sleeves up and getting on with the job does it for me every time.’

‘So you’re not staying to welcome him?’

‘I’m sure I’ll meet him soon enough.’

‘Come on,’ Jess pushed. Meg’s red-rimmed eyes were worrying her. ‘Just for a quick coffee?’

Meg feigned a yawn. ‘Honestly, Jess, I’m exhausted. My bed sounds far more tempting right now.’ Picking up her bag, Meg slung it casually over her shoulder. ‘Bye then.’ As she got to the door Meg paused for a second. ‘Oh, Jess, I’ve left all the paperwork from Luke—the child last night—in the Unit Manager’s office. Dr Leighton needs to write up all the drugs that were given; I’ve left the list clipped to the casualty card.’

‘Sure.’

As Meg turned to go she let out a small sigh. ‘Poor kid.’ Her voice was soft, more a whisper, really, and Jess knew that the words had come out involuntarily. But Meg recovered quickly, smothering her display of emotion with another huge yawn. ‘I’m dead on my feet; I’d better get home.’

* * *

Meg wasn’t tired, not in the slightest. In fact as she drove her small car out of the car park she debated whether or not to stop at the shops and pick up some groceries, knowing that when she got to bed all she was going to do was lie there staring at the ceiling, going over and over the night’s events. But shopping was more than she could deal with this morning. Choosing between wholemeal and white, full cream or low-fat milk seemed so trivial, so irrelevant, when a child was dead.

Poor kid.

Driving along Beach Road, for a second Meg hesitated, her foot poised over the brake, wondering whether or not to stop at her parents’. Tea, toast and sympathy from her mother sounded wonderful, but, given the fact that tensions on the home front were running at an all-time high, Meg decided against the idea, instead flicking on her indicator and heading up the hill for home.

Wincing as she changed gear, Meg remembered why her hand was hurting this morning. Remembered Dr Leighton looking over to the flat line on the monitor.

‘We’ve been going for forty-five minutes with no response. I think we should call it. Does anyone have any objections?’

The ampoule of adrenaline Meg had been holding in her hand had shattered then, but she hadn’t let on. ‘Perhaps we should keep going while I talk to his parents. It might help them to come in and see us still working on him.’ Throwing the shattered ampoule into the sharps bin, Meg had wiped her hand and applied a plaster to the small deep cut, then taken a deep steadying breath before heading for the interview room and walking in and delivering the shattering news. The look of utter desolation on Luke’s parents’ faces as she’d gently broken the news, then walked them the short distance to resus, had stayed with her throughout the night. The utter grief as they had done what no parent should ever have to.

Said goodbye to their child.

Up the winding hill she drove, the stunning view of the bay that filled her car window doing nothing to soothe her. Instead the conversation she had had with Luke’s parents replayed in her mind so clearly that it might just as well have been coming from the car’s stereo.

Meg had driven this road hundreds, maybe thousands of times. She knew every last bend in it, knew the subtle gear changes that ensured a smooth ride home. But this morning the painful image of Luke and his mother that flashed into her mind, the tears that sprang from her eyes, the sob that escaped from her lips, were all it took to make her lose her concentration. And in that tiny second the bend she had taken so easily, so many times, suddenly loomed towards her. With a start of horror Meg realised she had taken it too fast. Before she could even slam on her brakes the car shot off the road. There was no time to attempt to gain control, no time for anything—just a panicked helplessness as she heard someone yelling out, heard the slam of metal, the pop of glass as it shattered around her.

An ear-splitting shriek seemed to be going on for ever. It reminded her of Luke’s mother. Only when the car somersaulted and she felt the impact of the wheel thudding into her chest did the screaming stop, and in a moment of clarity before she lost consciousness Meg realised that the person who had been screaming was her.




CHAPTER TWO


‘IT’S all right Meg. We’re going to get you out of there just as soon as we can.’ The familiar voice of Ken Holmes, one of the paramedics Meg knew from her time in Emergency, was the first that welcomed her back to the world.

Everything was familiar: the hard collar holding her neck in position, the probe attached to her ear measuring her oxygen saturation. Meg had been out to many motor vehicle accidents with the Mobile Accident Unit and she knew the routine, knew all the equipment that was being used down to the last detail. But the familiarity brought no comfort. None at all.

The morning sun shone painfully into her eyes, and only then did Meg begin to realise the precariousness of her situation. Her car, or what was left of it, was embedded into the trunk of a huge tree. Its ominous creaking, Meg knew, was a sign of its instability. She sat there angled backwards, watching a massive chain slowly tightening around the trunk, and felt a huge jolt as the chain took up the last piece of slack. Every bone in her body seemed to be aching, her tongue felt swollen and sore, and she could taste blood at the back of her throat.

‘How much longer until we can free her?’ A deep voice from behind her left ear was calling out.

A deep voice that most definitely wasn’t familiar.

It was the first time Meg had realised someone was actually in the car with her.

‘They’re still trying to secure the tree. More equipment’s on the way.’ Ken’s voice was calm and even, but Meg could hear the undercurrent of urgency.

‘How long?’ She heard the edge of impatience in the deep voice and the hesitancy in Ken’s before he answered.

‘Twenty minutes—half an hour at most.’

‘I want to get another IV line into her and check her injuries. Ken, you come and hold her head. I’ll get into the front beside her.’

‘Do you want to wait for the rest of the equipment before you move?’ Again an ominous note was evident in Ken’s voice.

‘No. Do you?’ There was no scorn in the strange voice, no impatience now, and if Meg hadn’t quite grasped the danger she was in, hearing Ken being given a choice served to ram home just how vulnerable her situation was.

But Ken didn’t miss a beat. ‘I’ll come in round the other side.’

‘Good man.’

Her fuddled mind fought to recognise the masculine voice that was calmly giving out orders as Ken moved into the back and took over holding her head, while her unknown companion climbed over the passenger seat and into what was left of the seat beside her. It took for ever; every tiny movement seemed to ricochet through her body. Unable to move, all Meg could do was listen: listen to his heavy breathing and the occasional curse as a branch or piece of mangled metal halted his progress.

‘It’s Meg, isn’t it?’

She tried to nod, but the hard collar didn’t allow for movement. Opening her mouth a fraction, Meg tried to talk. But her mouth simply wouldn’t obey her. He seemed to recognise her distress in an instant. ‘It’s okay. Don’t try to talk. My name is Flynn Kelsey. I’m a doctor, and I’m just going to put a needle into your hand so we can give you some more fluids before we move you out.’

He was talking in layman’s terms and Meg realised he didn’t know that she was a nurse. He probably assumed the paramedics had got her name from her driver’s licence or a numberplate check. It was funny how her mind seemed to be focussing on the tiniest, most irrelevant details. Funny how her mind simply wouldn’t allow her to take in the horror of her own situation, trapped and helpless in her precariously positioned car.

Through terrified eyes she watched Flynn Kelsey as he set to work. He was a big man, and the small area that had been cut away was fairly restrictive, but he didn’t seem bothered by the confined space. The only concession he made was to take off the hard orange hat he was wearing before he set to work quietly. She searched his face, taking in his grey eyes, the high, chiselled cheekbones, the straight black hair neatly cut. Though he was clean shaven, she could see the dusting of new growth on his strong jaw.

Occasionally he would shift out of focus, her immobilised head making it impossible for her to follow him, but through it all Meg felt him beside her. Felt the steadying presence of his touch, the gentle reassurance of his regular breathing. Shifting into view again, for a second his cool grey eyes caught her petrified ones and he gave her a reassuring smile. Only the appearance of another flask of fluid indicated to Meg that the IV bung was already in; a scratch in the back of her hand was small fry compared to the agony everywhere else.

‘We’re going to be here for a little while yet.’

‘Why can’t they get me out now?’ It was the first time she had spoken and her voice was husky and strained, no more than a whisper, really, and Flynn had to move his head closer to catch her words.

‘Once the car’s a bit more secure we can get you out.’

Which didn’t answer the question. His careful evasion only scared Meg more.

Watching her closely, Flynn registered her deep intake of breath, saw her eyes screw tightly shut.

He recognised her terror.

‘You’re a lady that likes the truth, huh?’ He paused for a moment before continuing, ‘Your car came off the road at Elbow’s Bend—do you know it?’ Meg did know it; she knew it only too well. The sharp bend of road, cut into the rocks, was a favourite lookout point, and, if her memory served her correctly, the only view was that of the bay a hundred metres below. ‘Luckily a couple of trees broke your fall, and we’re on a nice sturdy ledge which has given us all a bit of room to work.’

She could hear her teeth involuntarily chattering as Flynn continued talking in quiet calm tones. ‘The trees are holding the car and the firefighters have secured us; we’re fine for now, but until the rest of the equipment arrives it’s probably safer not to try moving you.’

He didn’t add just how tenuous her position had been before the emergency services had arrived— didn’t casually throw in how both he and Ken had literally put their lives on the line by climbing into the car to be with her.

He didn’t have to; Meg had been out to enough accidents to know the score.

‘You’re going to be okay.’

‘Stay,’ she croaked, her eyes still screwed tightly shut.

‘Oh, I’m not going anywhere; you’re stuck with me for a good while yet. Do you know where you are?’

It seemed a silly question, especially given what he had just told her, but Meg knew he was testing her neurological status. ‘In my car.’ Her voice sounded gravelly, shaky. ‘Or what’s left of it.’

‘That’s right.’ He squeezed her hand as she started to cry. ‘But it’s only a car; you’re what’s important here. Do you remember what happened? Can you remember what caused the accident?’ He watched the tears squeezing out of her closed eyes and, realising he was distressing her further, decided instead to try a different tack. ‘We’ll go through it all later, at the hospital. Let’s talk about nicer things. Tell me about yourself, Meg.’

She tried to shake her head, but the collar and Ken held it still. ‘I’m tired.’

‘Come on, Meg. If I’m going to stay with you, the least you can do is talk to me.’ His voice was sharp, forcing her out of her slumber. ‘Have you got a husband? A boyfriend? Tell me about him?’

‘We broke up.’

‘Ouch.’ He gave a low laugh. ‘Trust me to say the wrong thing.’

Her eyes opened a fraction, wincing at the bright morning sun glimpsed through the broken tree. Golden-brown eyes, he noticed, almost amber in the bright sunlight, thick black eyelashes framing them, glistening with a new batch of tears. She turned her amber headlights to him. ‘He was cheating.’

That was a simple way of putting it, but she was too tired and it was all just too damn complicated to explain.

‘Then he’s a fool.’ Flynn said decisively. ‘Forget him.’

‘That’s what I’m working on.’

Flynn laughed. He was shining a pupil torch in her eyes now. ‘I meant while you’re stuck here. Think of something you really like. I’m not suggesting anything this time; I’d probably just put my foot in it again. What cheers you up?’

She didn’t answer; frankly she couldn’t be bothered. Closing her eyes, Meg wished he would just go away, leave her alone to rest a while.

‘Meg!’

Reluctantly she opened her eyes. ‘I’m tired.’

‘And I’m bored. Come on, Meg—talk to me. If I’ve got to sit here with you, the very least you can do is entertain me.’

‘The beach.’ Running her tongue over her dry bloodstained lips, Meg cleared her throat as best she could. ‘I like going to the beach.’

‘Do you live near it?’

‘Not really.’ She was really tired now, her eyelids growing heavy again, the need to sleep overwhelming.

‘A bit too expensive, isn’t it? Come on, Meg, stay awake. Stay with me here and tell me about the beach.’

‘Mum and Dad…’

‘Do they live near the beach?’

‘On the beach,’ she corrected

‘And I bet you’re round there more often than not?’

She actually managed a small laugh. ‘Mum says I use the hotel…’ No, that wasn’t right. Everything was coming out muddled. Meg forced herself to concentrate. ‘I use the house like…’ She never finished her sentence, her eyes gently closing as she gave up trying to explain.

‘Like a hotel?’ The torch was blasting back in her eyes now. ‘I bet you do. So, come on, what do when you go to the beach? Body surf? Water ski?’ There was a tinge of urgency creeping into his voice. ‘Open your eyes and tell me what you do at the beach, Meg!’

The sun was shining brightly when she did, warm and delicious. The same sun that warmed her when she sunbathed, the same birds chirping, the same lazy, hazy feeling as she stretched out on a towel and drifted off. Closing her eyes, feeling its warmth, she could almost hear the ocean, almost imagine she was lying on the soft sand, listening to the children patting sandcastles into shape. The hum of the firefighters’ drill was almost a perfect Jet Ski in the distance…

‘Meg!’ It was him again, breaking into her dream, utterly refusing to leave her be. ‘What do you do at the beach?’

‘I sleep.’

She heard him half-laugh, half-curse. ‘She’s practically hypnotised herself here, Ken. Tell them to step on it.’

Whether it was Flynn’s insistence or whether the tree was finally secured Meg didn’t know, but suddenly the ‘jaws of life’ were peeling the roof off her car as easily as the foil top on a yoghurt carton. The noise was deafening, the movement terrifying, but through it all Flynn was beside her, holding her hand, soothing her with his presence, until finally a firefighter appeared above them, giving the thumbs-up sign. For the last hour all Meg had wished for was to be free from the mangled wreckage, but now the moment was here suddenly she was scared again.

Bracing herself for movement, she gripped Flynn’s hand tighter. ‘It’s going to hurt.’

‘You’re going to be fine. Once you’re in the ambulance, and I’ve checked you over, I’ll give you something for pain.’

‘Promise?’

He gave her a smile. ‘Trust me.’ He was easing his fingers out of her grip. ‘I’m just going around to your other side so I can support your head as they bring you out. I’ll speak to you again in the ambulance.’

And with that she had to be content.

He held her head as they skilfully lifted her, taking charge from the top as they started the slow, painstaking ascent back to the road, relaying his orders in clear, direct tones, carefully ensuring that her neck never moved out of alignment, assuming at all times the worst-case scenario: until an X-ray showed no fracture of her neck it was safer to assume that she had one. And though Meg had never been more scared in her life, never been in more pain, amazingly she felt safe, knew that she was in good hands— literally.

Strong hands gently lowered her onto the cool crisp sheets on the stretcher, and she felt the bumps as they wheeled her to the awaiting ambulance. Fragments of the conversations between the police and the firefighters reached her as they jolted along.

‘…no skid marks…’

‘…the witness said she just veered straight off.’

‘…just finished a night shift…’

It was the type of conversation Meg heard nearly every working day, the tiny pieces of a jigsaw that would painstakingly be put together, adding up the chain of events that had led to an accident. Only this time it was about her.

As they lifted her into the ambulance and secured the stretcher she ran a tongue over her dry bloodstained lips.

‘Where’s Flynn?’

Ken patted her arm. ‘He’ll be here in a moment.’

‘He said he’d be here.’ Suddenly it seemed imperative that she see Flynn and tell him what had happened.

‘Just give him a moment, Meg, he’s had a rough morning.’ Ken’s words made no sense. She was the patient, after all, and the way Ken was talking it sounded as if Flynn was the one who was upset.

‘What’s she moaning about now?’ It was Flynn again, a touch paler and a bit grey-looking, but with the same easy smile and a slight wink as he teased her.

‘Are you all right?’

Meg opened her mouth to answer but realised that Ken’s question had actually been directed to Flynn.

Flynn muttered something about a ‘dodgy pie’ and, after accepting a mint from Ken, again shone the beastly pupil torch back into her eyes.

‘She’s in a lot of pain, Flynn.’ Ken was speaking as he checked her blood pressure. ‘All her obs are stable. Do you want to head off to the hospital now?’

‘I’ll just have a quick look first.’ Whipping out his stethoscope, he gently moved it across her bruised, tender ribcage. ‘Good air entry,’ he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. ‘Is it hurting a lot, Meg?’

‘I didn’t…’ Her voice was merely a croak, but it was enough to stop Flynn listening to her chest. Pulling his stethoscope out of his ears, he bent his head forward.

‘What was that, Meg?’

‘I didn’t fall…’ But she couldn’t finish her sentence. Huge tears were welling in her eyes, sobs preventing her from going further as the emotion of the morning, now she was free from the wreckage, finally hit home.

‘It’s all right, Meg. Don’t try and talk. You’re safe now. I’m going to give you something for the pain.’ His lips were set in a grim line and she could see the beads of sweat on his forehead, but Flynn’s voice was kind and assured as he continued talking. ‘The main thing is that you’re safe.’ His grey eyes seemed to be boring into her, and Meg found that she couldn’t tear her own away. Even as the sirens wailed into life and the ambulance moved off she found herself still holding his gaze, her eyelids growing heavy as the drug he had injected took effect and oblivion descended.

* * *

‘Meg O’Sullivan, we weren’t expecting you till tonight. Don’t tell me: you just can’t stay away from the place.’ Jess chatted away good-humouredly, her Irish accent thick and strong, as the team lifted her onto the trolley. There was nothing Emergency staff dreaded more than being wheeled into their own department, but unfortunately it happened now and then, and the staff dealt with it with a very special brand of humour—intimate, yet professional.

‘Perhaps she’s checking up on you.’ Ken Holmes carried on the joke as they swapped the paramedics’ monitors and equipment for the emergency department’s own.

‘Or…’ Jess smiled as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Meg’s bruised arm ‘…she decided that she did want to meet the new consultant after all.’

‘She works here?’ Apart from leading the count as they’d lifted her over it was the first time Flynn had spoken since they had arrived in the unit.

‘She does.’ Fifty milligrams of Pethidine on top of a sleepless night had not only controlled her pain but also taken away every last piece of Meg’s reserve, and her comment came out rather more sarcastically than intended. She saw his perfectly arched eyebrow raise just a fraction as he skilfully palpated her abdomen.

‘And what is it you do here, Meg?’

‘The same as Jess.’

‘And what does Jess do?’

God, why all the questions? All she wanted to do was sleep. Closing her eyes, she ignored him, but Flynn hadn’t finished yet.

‘Meg, what job do you do here?’ His voice was sharp, dragging her out of her slumber.

‘I’m a nurse,’ she answered reluctantly. Maybe now he’d leave her alone.

‘What day is it today?’

The interrogation obviously wasn’t over. He was testing her reflexes now, lifting her legs slightly and tapping at her knees as he repeated the question. ‘Come on, Meg, what day is it today?’

‘Pay day.’

Jess laughed. ‘It is too. Thank God,’ she added. ‘My credit card bill is crashing through the roof. Now, come on, Meg—tell the good doctor here what day it is so he can get off to his welcome breakfast.’

‘Tuesday.’ No, that was yesterday. Meg always got mixed up when she was doing nights. ‘Wednesday,’ she said, more definitely. ‘Today is Wednesday.’

The same small affirmative nod he had used at the accident scene was repeated and Meg gave a relieved sigh.

‘Do you remember what happened yet?’

‘I had an accident.’

Flynn gave her a thin smile. ‘You certainly did. I meant before the accident. Do you remember what caused it?’

She opened her mouth to answer, to tell him exactly what had happened in the hope of finally being allowed to rest, but as she tried to explain Meg felt as if she was trying to recall a dream. Little flashes of the morning would pop into her head, rather like watching a photo develop, but before the picture appeared it would vanish again, and no matter how she fought to remember the images just slipped away.

‘Can you remember?’ His voice was gentle, as if he realised how much she was struggling.

‘No.’ The simple word terrified her.

‘You will. Just give it time, Meg.’

Turning to Jess, Meg listened as Flynn ordered what seemed an inordinate amount of tests. ‘We’ll get her over for a C. spine and head CT now, and I want one of her abdomen. She’s tender over the spleen. Chest and abdo films, and I want those bloods back from the lab stat, in case she needs a transfusion. It might be better to pop in a catheter.’

‘No.’ This time the simple word was said much more forcefully, and Flynn and Jess both turned to her simultaneously. ‘No,’ she repeated. ‘I’m not having a catheter.’

‘Okay.’ Flynn relented. ‘But if you haven’t passed urine in the next hour I’m getting one put in.’ He turned back to Jess. ‘Obviously keep her nil by mouth for now. I’d best go and do a quick duty speech, and then I’ll be back to check on her. Call me in the meantime if you’re in the least concerned.’

He came over to the trolley then and looked down at her, her hair fanning out on the pillow, knotted and full of glass, streaks of blood on her cheeks and her lips bruised and swollen. Yet there was an air of dignity about her, coupled with a wary, but somehow superior look that brought the beginning of a smile to his lips. ‘And try not to give her any more Pethidine. I want to do a full neuro assessment when I get back.’

‘Are you going?’ It was a strange question, one Meg couldn’t believe she had just asked.

‘Just for a little while, then I’ll be back to review you.’ That seemed to placate her, and she relaxed back onto the pillow. ‘If you’re very good Jess and I might even save you a Danish pastry.’ He smiled then, properly, for the first time since their eventful meeting.

It was like being rescued all over again.

Closing her eyes, his face still etched in her bruised, muddled mind, Meg let sleep finally wash over and, utterly oblivious to the world, even the hourly neuro obs the staff performed at regular intervals, she slept through what was left of the day.

* * *

‘She’s waking up.’

‘Leave her, Kathy. The nurse said not to disturb her.’ Mary O’Sullivan’s voice had that sharp warning edge that would have sent Meg scuttling straight back to her chair, but it had little or no effect on her sister.

‘That was two hours ago. I just want to see she’s all right for myself.’

‘Do as your mother says, Kathy.’ Ted O’Sullivan had as little impact on Kathy as his wife, and as Meg came to it was to the all too familiar strains of her family bickering.

Kathy stood there peering anxiously over her. ‘You’re awake.’ Kathy’s eyes filled with tears as she looked down at her big sister.

‘No thanks to you,’ Mary interjected. ‘Can you not obey a simple order, Kathy? The nurse said to leave her be.’

‘Hello, Mum,’ Meg croaked. ‘Sorry for all the trouble.’

‘No trouble—apart from a coronary when the police came to the door.’ Mary’s attempt at a joke felt more like a telling off, and Meg closed her eyes again, the bright lights of the Emergency observation ward too much for her fragile head. ‘Are you all right, pet?’

Keeping her eyes closed, Meg nodded. Now the collar was off at least she was able to do that. It was about the only thing she could do; her chest felt as if a bus was sitting on it. Mary fussed and chatted for a while, but Meg could almost sense her relief when six o’clock came and her mother had a valid reason to go home.

‘That lovely Irish nurse, Jess, has kept us up to date. She’s away home now, to her husband, but she said that you were to rest as much as possible. Now that you’ve come to, I might get your father home for his dinner. His insulin was due half an hour ago. I’ll be back in first thing tomorrow and we’ll ring the ward tonight.’

Again Meg sensed the sting of disapproval.

‘Are you coming, Kathy?’

‘No.’ Meg felt the bed move as Kathy perched herself on it. ‘I’ll stay with her. Jake can always give me a lift later.’

‘She was only joking about the police,’ Kathy said when their parents had finally gone.

‘Since when did Mum joke?’

‘There’s always a first time. I was in the hydro pool and Jess let Jake know. It was Jake that went and told her.’

Meg looked at her sister. Her uncombed, spiky blonde hair and the faint scent of chlorine certainly held up her story. ‘So the police didn’t come?’

‘No.’ Kathy laughed, but her brimming eyes belied her casual chatter. ‘Actually, you did me a favour. They’ve got a new chief of physio and the workout they were putting me through felt like an army training camp—and, despite what she says, Mum’s had a grand afternoon gossiping to Jess about the fair Emerald Isle.’

Meg attempted to smile, but it died on her lips.

‘She was upset, you know.’ Kathy squeezed Meg’s hand. ‘Really upset.’

‘And now she’s angry.’

‘You know what Mum can be like.’

Meg did know—only too well. The last few months had been a nightmare. It was bad enough finding out that your boyfriend of eighteen months, the man you’d adored, actually thought you had a future with, was in fact married. And not just married. Married to your colleague’s sister, who just happened to go to the same church as your mum. So not only had Meg felt the wrath of disapproval from her colleagues at Melbourne City Hospital, there had been the wrath of her mother to deal with.

Mary O’Sullivan wasn’t sure which was the greater of the two evils. The fact her eldest daughter had been branded a home-wrecker, or the undeniable fact that Meg wasn’t a virgin.

And now she had trashed her car.

‘I hate this year.’

‘I know, but there’s always next year.’

‘Next year will probably be just the same.’

‘It won’t.’ Kathy insisted. ‘You’ve got a new job, new friends, a whole new start. All you have to do is loosen up a bit.’

‘Loosen up?’

‘Try letting people in. It’s a nice world out there. I know Vince hurt you, but not all men are the same.’

Just the mention of his name bought forth a whole fresh batch of tears. Meg hadn’t cried since the day they broke up, and certainly not in front of anyone, but the egg on her head combined with the pain in her chest was such a horrible combination that for once crying came naturally.

‘I’ve got some news that might cheer you up,’ Kathy said desperately. Seeing her sister, who never cried, sobbing in the bed was torture. ‘How do you fancy being a bridesmaid?’

Like a tap being turned off, Meg instantly stopped crying, her eyes swinging round to her sister.

‘You’re engaged?’

‘I have been for…’ Kathy glanced at her watch. ‘Twenty hours now. He asked me last night.’

‘Who, Jake?’

Kathy gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘No, the tram conductor. Of course it’s Jake. Who else?’

‘What does Mum have to say about it?’ Meg asked slowly.

‘Well, the fact we want to get married so quickly— on Valentine’s Day, actually—led to a few sticky questions, but we’ve finally managed to convince her that it’s not a shotgun wedding. We’re just head over heels and want to do it as soon as possible. She’s tickled pink, actually, and insisting that we have an engagement party. But I’ve told her that the most we want is a casual dinner.’

Meg gave a wry laugh. ‘So no doubt she’ll spend tomorrow on the telephone, ringing up hundreds of relatives.’

‘Probably,’ Kathy conceded. ‘But after she’s been in to see you, of course,’ she added hastily. ‘Whoops, look like I’d better make myself scarce—here comes Flynn now.’

Meg screwed up her forehead. ‘Flynn? Do you know him?’

‘He’s a friend of Jake’s…’ As Flynn approached the bed Kathy’s voice trailed off.

‘Good evening, Meg—Kathy.’ He gave her sister a friendly nod.

‘Hi, Flynn. I’ll leave you to it; see you in the morning, Sis.’ Popping a quick kiss on Meg’s cheek, Kathy limped off.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better. Well, sore but better.’ The beginning of a blush was creeping over her cheeks.

‘That’s good. You’ve had a very lucky escape, Meg, all your tests have come back as normal. Apart from a lot of bruising, which is going to hurt for a while, and a mild concussion, you’ve got off very lightly.’ He peered at his notes for a moment, and Meg watched as he fiddled uncomfortably with his pen. ‘Can you remember what happened yet?’

Meg shook her head. Normally she would have left it there, but there was something about Flynn, something about the way he had smiled at her this morning, the drama they had shared, that made her take the plunge and for the first time in ages prolong a conversation. ‘No, but I do remember you offering to save me a Danish pastry. You didn’t, by any chance, did you?’

Her attempt at small talk was instantly to her dying shame rebuffed.

‘Apparently the police seem to think that you might have fallen asleep at the wheel.’

Embarrassed at his businesslike tone, Meg felt her blush only deepen. ‘I didn’t!’

‘There were no skid marks at the scene, and apparently you were exhausted when you left this morning—though Jess told only me that, I hasten to add. I haven’t written it in my notes.’ He ran a hand through his hair, an exasperated tone creeping into his voice. ‘Why the hell didn’t you get a taxi?’

She knew he was wrong, knew somehow that the picture he was painting wasn’t how it had happened, but her total lack of recall didn’t put her in the best position to argue the point.

‘I didn’t fall asleep,’ Meg intoned.

‘The police…’

‘The police are wrong,’ she retorted quickly. ‘And anyway, it’s none of your business.’ She knew she was being rude, but something about Flynn had her acting completely out of character. The little hint about the Danish pastry, the blush that wouldn’t go away—and now she was answering him back. It wasn’t actually out of character. It was more the old Meg. The Meg before Vince had extinguished every last piece of her fiery personality.

Flynn begged to differ. ‘Oh, but it is my business, young lady. It became my business at precisely four minutes past eight this morning, when I stabilised your neck in the wreckage of your car.’ His voice was curt and formal, with no hint of the man who had held her hand just this morning, cajoled her to stay awake—who, even in the most dire of circumstances, had actually managed to make her laugh. ‘It became my business when I found out that one of the nurses in my department was so damned tired after her night shift she nearly killed herself. And,’ he added, standing over her so she had no choice but to look at him, ‘had you wiped out an entire family, no doubt it would have been left to me to deal with it. So you see, Meg—’ his lip curled around her name ‘—it is my business.’

Despite his anger, it wasn’t a no holds barred attack, Meg realised. Not once had he mentioned the very real danger he had put himself in by staying with her throughout the ordeal, and his modest omission somehow touched her.

He stood there for a moment, his eyes challenging her to respond, but she was too tired and too utterly defeated to argue. ‘Right, then. I’ve spoken to your parents, and I’m happy for you to be discharged tomorrow as long as you go and stay with them.’

‘That’s all I need,’ Meg muttered ungraciously.

‘I want the physio to see you before you go and run through some deep breathing exercises. Your chest is badly bruised and it’s important he sees you.’

‘No.’

Flynn let out an exasperated sigh.

‘The catheter I can understand your objection to— but physio, for heaven’s sake? Do you have to argue about everything?’

‘You don’t understand.’

‘So enlighten me.’

‘Jake Reece is the Emergency physio,’ Meg started, her eyes darting around the obs ward to check that Kathy had definitely gone.

‘So why is that a problem?

‘He’s marrying my sister.’

Flynn’s face broke into a grin then, and for a second he looked like the Flynn from this morning. ‘Jake and Kathy are getting married? That’s fantastic news.’ He seemed to remember she was there then, and stared at her, perplexed. ‘So why on earth don’t you want him to see you?’

‘Because, unlike you, I’m not exactly thrilled with the news.’

‘Why?’ He seemed genuinely bemused and Meg couldn’t believe that he didn’t understand how she was feeling.

‘He’s her physiotherapist, for heaven’s sake. Kathy’s handicapped. It’s wrong.’

His face changed. She saw his bemused look change to one of distaste.

‘Please don’t try to tell me that you’re so politically correct you haven’t even noticed.’

‘Of course I’ve noticed. Kathy has also told me about it herself. Unlike you, she doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. From what I can remember of our conversation, she has mild cerebral palsy from birth, which has left her with a limp and a minor speech impediment. What she didn’t tell me, but I soon found out for myself, is that she happens to be a fun, happy, caring and very attractive woman.’

‘He’s ten years older than her.’

‘Hardly a hanging offence.’ He paused then, eyeing her carefully before continuing. ‘As you yourself pointed out, he’s her physio, not her doctor. They will have spent a lot of time together. If you got down off your high horse and actually spent some time with them, instead of judging them, you might find yourself pleasantly surprised.’

And, after signing off her discharge papers, he left her lying there.

Lying there for all the world wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.




CHAPTER THREE


MEG’S childhood had ended at nine years old.

The day Kathy was born.

She had spent endless afternoons sitting after school in a waiting room doing her homework while Mary took her youngest daughter to a seemingly never-ending round of appointments. Paediatricians, speech therapists, occupational therapists—the list had been endless.

The only person who had taken it all in her stride, literally, had been Kathy. Defying the doctors’ grim prognosis, she had cheerfully picked herself up, over and over, until finally at the age of four she had taken her first steps. Her optimistic, sunny nature had served her well in the playground also, with Kathy making friends easily and keeping them. A group of little girls Meg had referred to as ‘Kathy’s army’. But Kathy’s army hadn’t always been there for her, and the playground hadn’t been the only place a child like Kathy could run into trouble or become the victim of a cruel and thoughtless taunt.

So, from the day Kathy had come home from the hospital, Meg had taken it upon herself to look out for her. It was almost as if Meg had been fitted with an inbuilt radar, constantly on the alert, always looking out for her little sister.

And even though the callipers had long since gone, even though Kathy was nineteen years old now, and, as Flynn had pointed out, extremely attractive with a social life that would exhaust anyone, Meg’s radar was still there. The protective feelings Meg had for her little sister hadn’t faded one iota. That was why she was cautious of Jake. She certainly wasn’t the bigot Flynn had implied. Her concern here was only to save Kathy from being hurt. After all, Meg knew better than most how easily your heart could be broken.

But a couple of weeks at home, hiding away in her old bedroom, reading again the wonderful books that had fuelled her childhood and eating the inordinate meals that appeared every few hours, had given Meg plenty of time for reflection and introspection, and somewhere along the way Meg had finally realised that Kathy neither wanted nor needed saving.

But Kathy wasn’t all that Meg had dwelled on as her sick leave days ticked by into double figures. Hesitantly, painfully, Meg had travelled the bittersweet journey of the brokenhearted. Bitter because, bruised and battered, and with a good excuse to cry, Meg had allowed herself to finally grieve—grieve for the man she had lost, the man she had thought Vince was. And sweet because, despite the pain, despite the soul-searching as her blackened chest turned to a dirty yellow and her swollen lips finally went down, for the first time in six months Meg actually knew she was finally over him.

‘I’ve brought you some soup.’

Meg screwed up her nose as Kathy peered around the bedroom door, a laden tray in her hands. ‘I’m sick of soup.’

‘How do you think I feel? I wasn’t even in an accident and I’m having lentil broth forced down me twice a day. At least you can afford to put some weight on; I’m going to be huge for my party at this rate.’

‘What happened to the ‘‘casual dinner’’?’

Kathy laughed. ‘Mum got involved, that’s what happened. How she’s managed to book a hall and caterers at such short notice I’ve no idea. I shudder to think what the wedding’s going to be like. Half of me just wants to get a licence and get it over and done with, without all the fuss.’

Raining salt on her soup, Meg didn’t look up. ‘And the other half?’

‘The other half of me is starting to buy all the bridal magazines and is wrestling between crushed silk and organza, and lilies as opposed to freesias. I guess the upshot is I can’t wait to be married.’

This time Meg did look up. Seeing her sister sitting on the edge of her bed, her face glowing, her eyes literally sparkling, Meg knew she had never seen Kathy looking happier. ‘You really love him, don’t you?’

‘I really do.’ Kathy paused for a moment. ‘And the best bit of it all is that I know Jake loves me—all of me—even down to my limp. He says that if it wasn’t for my limp we’d never have met, which is a pretty nice way of looking at it.’

It was nice, Meg admitted to herself. Actually, in the last few days she had found herself looking at Jake rather differently. He had treated Meg with professional friendliness at the hospital, and as—thanks to Flynn Kelsey—she had been forced into spending the last two weeks at home, there had been plenty of time to watch Jake and Kathy together. Jake even took Mary’s somewhat overbearing nature in his stride.

‘How do you feel about going back to work tomorrow?’

Meg shrugged. ‘It will be nice to get away from the soup.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on it. Mum’s just bought a massive stainless steel vacuum flask; you’ll be supping on her Irish broth for weeks yet.’ When Meg didn’t laugh Kathy continued tentatively. ‘A bit nervous, huh?’

Meg nodded. ‘A bit,’ she admitted. ‘It doesn’t help that everyone thinks I fell asleep at the wheel.’

‘It will be old news soon. They’ll soon find something else to talk about.’

‘I just wish I could remember what happened.’

‘You will.’

Meg fiddled with her spoon. ‘I feel as if I’ve been away for months, not just a couple of weeks. I’m more nervous than when I first started there.’

‘Once you’ve been there a couple of hours you’ll soon be back in the swing of things. They seem a nice bunch of girls; you should try to get to know them better. That Jess was lovely to us while you were sleeping.’

‘Oh, Jess is nice. She can be a bit overbearing, but it’s all well meant. She’s probably the one I’m closest to, but a night out with Jess isn’t going to do my social life wonders—it would be like going out with Mum.’

‘What about the rest of them?’ Kathy asked.

‘They all seem nice enough,’ Meg replied. ‘But I don’t really know them. I mean, we chat about work and what we did on our days off, but apart from Jess I don’t really know much about any of them.’

‘And whose fault is that?’ Kathy said gently. ‘Look, Meg, I know you’ve had it tough recently, but it’s really time to move on, let the world in a bit.’

Meg nodded. ‘I know it is.’

Kathy put a hand up to her sister’s forehead, an incredulous look on her face. ‘Quick—call a doctor! The girl must be delirious. You’re not actually agreeing with me, are you?’

Meg grinned as she pushed Kathy’s hand away. ‘For once I am. Bloody Vince.’

‘Absolutely,’ Kathy agreed, grinning broadly. ‘That’s more like it. There’s a whole world out there full of gorgeous single men.’

‘Hold on a moment,’ Meg said quickly. ‘A relationship’s the last thing I want at the moment. I’m talking about resuming a social life, nothing else. I mean it,’ she added as Kathy gave her a questioning look.

‘I believe you,’ Kathy said, but just as Meg started to relax a meddling look flashed across her sister’s face. ‘But if there was anyone you wanted me to add to the party list, you know you’d only have to ask?’

For a nanosecond Meg’s mind involuntarily flashed to Flynn—the Flynn who had sat with her in the car, not the jackbooted doctor who had visited her in the obs ward—but resolutely she pushed all thought of him away. That was one path she definitely wasn’t heading down—and anyway, the last person she wanted to help with her love life was her little sister; a girl had to have some pride! ‘I’m quite capable of sorting out my own social life, thank you very much.’

Kathy grinned, not in the slightest bit bothered by Meg’s haughty tones. ‘Okay, okay, it was only a suggestion.’ Picking up the last of Meg’s bread, she popped it into her mouth. ‘At least it’s a start.’

* * *

A small start, perhaps, but to Meg it felt monumental. This time when she pulled on her uniform and clipped on her badges she forced a smile as she made her way out to the department, utterly determined that when someone suggested heading off to the bar after work, or a house party next weekend, instead of murmuring her usual excuses she would smile warmly and agree to go.

‘Morning, Meg, welcome back.’

‘Good morning, Carla, how are you?’

Unless it was Carla.

Meg quickly made a sub-clause in her self-imposed contract. A students’ bash with cheap wine and even cheaper comments from the medical and nursing students she could do without. She wasn’t that desperate.

Yet.

‘Fine.’ Carla flicked her long blonde fringe out of her eyes and Meg watched as it promptly fell back over them, tempted to tell her to take a bandage from the trolley and tie the shaggy mess back. But, in the spirit of it being her first day back, Meg said nothing. Jess could sort Carla out later.

‘Where are you working this morning?’

‘I’m in the cubicles at the moment, but Jess said that if anything comes into resus I’m to go in.’

Meg heard the nervous note in the young student’s voice. ‘You’ll be fine. No one will expect you to do anything, you’re just there to observe, and when you’re feeling up to it you can join in.’

‘Thanks. Will you be in there?’

Meg was saved from answering as Jess appeared, crisp and fresh in her white linen blouse. ‘How about it, Meg? Do you fancy starting back in the deep end? We’re a bit low on numbers this morning, and I’m supposed to be going to an occupational health and safety lecture at ten. I can’t believe it’s been two years since my last.’

‘No problem,’ Meg answered, before turning to give Carla a reassuring smile. ‘Dr Campbell is really nice to work with in resus.’

‘Except he’s on two weeks’ annual leave.’ Jess rolled her eyes. ‘Flynn’s on this morning. If it’s quiet he wants to lecture the students and the grad nurses in CPR—or BLS, as it’s called now. Why do they have to keep changing things? And when does this place ever stay quiet?’ she asked, but as usual didn’t bother to wait for an answer. ‘I’ve told him Annie is off having her arm stitched back on, but he still wants to go ahead.’

‘What happened to Annie?’ Meg asked. Annie, the plastic doll the staff practised their lifesaving skills on, was a popular member of the staff, and the concern in Meg’s voice was genuine.

‘My lips are sealed,’ Jess said dramatically, which meant she was pausing for breath before she continued. ‘Let’s just hope that next time our dear Dr Kelsey tries to show the new interns how to reduce a dislocated shoulder, he’ll leave poor Annie alone. The man doesn’t know his own strength.’ Tutting away, Jess turned her attention to Carla. ‘In my day—and, I hasten to add it wasn’t that long ago—we wore hats, and with good reason. Now, go and do something about that blessed fringe of yours or I’ll make you wear a theatre cap for the rest of your rotation.’

As she bustled off Carla rolled her eyes and turned to Meg. ‘She talks as if she trained during the Second World War; just how old is Jess?’

‘Fifty-something,’ Meg mumbled.

‘Oh, well, I guess that explains it,’ Carla replied, accepting the bandage Meg offered her and managing to still look gorgeous with a massive white bow on the top of her head.

‘Which means she’s got a lot of experience,’ Meg said pointedly, annoyed at Carla’s surly comments. ‘I know first-hand what a good nurse she is—and not just from a professional point of view. Jess is the first person you want to see when you’re coming through those doors on a stretcher. Tying up your hair and looking smart might seem minor details, but they’re important ones; it goes a long way to instilling confidence in the patients.’ Suitably chastised, Carla followed Meg into resus.

‘I know it seems boring how we constantly check all the equipment, but it really is vital,’ Meg explained as she painstakingly checked and restocked all the backboards behind the resus bed. ‘Everything has its own place in s resuscitation room. There isn’t time to be rummaging through shelves when someone is desperately ill and staff are already tense. It’s much easier all round if everything is well stocked and in order.’

‘I couldn’t agree more.’

Meg didn’t need to look up to know who the deep voice that filled the room belonged to. But in the spirit of her new-found openness she forced a smile as she battled with a blush, painfully aware that the last time they had been together in this room she had been dressed only in a skimpy hospital gown with a good dose of Pethidine on board. Not the best of looks!

‘Morning, Flynn,’ Carla announced cheerfully, and Meg frowned at the rather too familiar tone.

‘Morning, Carla.’ Flynn did a double take. ‘Have you got a toothache or something?’

‘Nah.’ Carla shrugged. ‘Apparently my hair was a health hazard.’

‘Good morning, Dr Kelsey,’ Meg responded, casting a pointed look at Carla, but Flynn didn’t seem remotely fazed by the student’s familiarity.

‘Flynn will do. Dr Kelsey’s my father.’

Meg realised she was gnashing her teeth; between the two of them they had managed to make her feel as if she was about to start drawing her pension. ‘Well, in that case,’ she said in a rather falsely cheerful voice, ‘good morning, Flynn.’

At least she wasn’t the only one blushing, Meg realised—Carla was positively beetroot. But then who could blame her? Students had hormones too, and Flynn was a pretty impressive sight for seven-thirty in the morning. Everything about him oozed masculinity—not just his huge, powerful build, but also the husky voice, the spicy tang of cologne, even the hint of legendary strength, added a touch of zest to an otherwise routine morning.

‘You’re looking better than the last time I saw you. How are you feeling?’

‘I’m fine, thank you.’

But Flynn didn’t look convinced. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you back so soon. That was a nasty accident you were involved in.’

‘Which I’m over.’ Meg bristled, unnerved by his scrutiny.

‘Hey, I’m just the doctor.’ Flynn grinned. ‘Still, if it does turn out too soon for you to be back just let me know and I’ll sign you off.’

‘Wouldn’t you just?’ Meg muttered, but Flynn wasn’t listening. Instead he was looking around the room, pulling from the walls half the equipment Meg had only just replaced.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Setting up for my lecture. Where’s Annie?’

‘But I haven’t finished checking resus,’ Meg argued. ‘And Jess said she’d already told you that Annie was off being repaired. Someone,’ Meg said accusingly, ‘apparently used her as a sparring partner.’

‘I did not,’ Flynn said defensively. ‘I was trying to show the interns how to reduce a shoulder.’ He flashed a smile and Meg knew there and then that he’d get his lecture. ‘Hey, Carla, any chance of rustling me up a coffee and then grabbing the other students? I’d like to get started.’

Only when Carla had willingly dashed off did Flynn speak again. ‘Before you tell me off, I don’t usually use the students as tea girls, but I wanted to get you alone and apologise.’

Meg was caught completely unawares, and in an attempt to cover up her embarrassment at suddenly finding herself alone with him her words came out far sharper than intended. ‘For wrongly accusing me of falling asleep at the wheel or insinuating that I’m a bigot?’

But Flynn just laughed. ‘Feisty, aren’t you? And to think I thought it was the Pethidine!’

Meg sucked in her breath. Damn this man, he really managed to get under her skin. ‘I thought this was supposed to be an apology?’

‘So it is.’

She waited, not quite tapping her foot, but her stance showed her impatience.

‘About Kathy,’ he started. ‘Look, I just went off at the deep end. I was more riled at you falling asleep at the wheel.’ He saw her open her mouth to argue and put his hands up. ‘Or ‘‘allegedly’’ falling asleep. I took Jake and Kathy out for a celebratory drink the other night and had my ear bent about what a wonderful sister you are. I won’t embarrass you by going into detail, but the upshot is I know now that I was way out of order.’

He didn’t look particularly sorry. ‘Is that it?’

Flynn shot her a surprised look. ‘Do you want it written in blood? Tell you what, how about I take you out for a drink or dinner? Show that there’s no hard feelings?’

Sub-clause B, Meg thought quickly as she shook her head. ‘That won’t be necessary, thank you.’ Delicious consultants with an over-supply of confidence and sex appeal were a definite no-no.

‘Oh, come on,’ Flynn said easily. ‘It would save us both a heap of trouble—I’ve got a feeling your sister’s in a matchmaking mood. Maybe we should just get it over with, before she deafens us both singing the other one’s praises.’

‘Are you always so romantic when you ask a woman out, Doctor? Because if the way you’ve just asked me is an indication of your usual approach, it’s no wonder you need my sister to help you.’

Flynn just roared laughing. ‘Is that a no, then?’ he asked as the students started trickling in.

‘Yes,’ Meg muttered blushing to her toes. ‘I mean, yes, it’s a no.’

‘Pity,’ Flynn murmured, and with an easy smile turned his attention to the gathered crowd.

Meg had to hand it to him. Within seconds of starting he had the students and nurses enthralled. BLS, or basic life support, was a subject they would all have covered at college, and on their ward rotations, but here in Emergency, given that it was an almost daily event, they would practically be guaranteed a chance to witness and, if at all possible, practise the life-saving skill.

And Flynn held them in the palm of his hand, explaining that what they learnt today and in their weeks in Emergency might never be needed in their entire career, depending upon their chosen field. ‘But…’ He paused, those expressive grey eyes working the room, ensuring he had everyone’s attention. ‘Statistically speaking—and I’m not talking about while you’re at work; I’m talking about when you’re at the library or doing the groceries, or dropping a video off at the shop—somewhere in the future, someone in this room will utilise this skill, possibly on a stranger, but maybe on someone you love. And you, as nurses, have a chance of doing it right; have a chance of saving a life. Pretty exciting, huh?’




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