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St Piran's: Daredevil, Doctor…Dad!
‘A car accident on the coastal road,’ Lucy explained as Paul left the room. She was small and plump with bright, intelligent eyes. ‘The driver was going too fast for these roads and hit another car head on.’
‘Any fatalities? ‘ Abby asked.
‘Surprisingly not. Luckily the oncoming car managed to swerve in time. The fire brigade had to use the jaws of life to get the driver out. It took hours and we had to keep him ventilated by hand. He’s still on the critical list, but he’s damned lucky to be alive.’ Lucy glanced at her watch. ‘Time for me to go!’ She held out her hand again. ‘It’s good to have another woman on board, Abby. Kirsten and I get a little overwhelmed by all the testosterone around here, don’t we, Kirsten?’
Kirsten grinned back. ‘Don’t let Lucy kid you—she’s a match for the guys any time.’
Abby glanced across at Mac, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. He was studying Abby as if she puzzled him.
‘Hey, have we met before?’ he asked.
Abby’s pulse beat even faster. Although she and Sara hadn’t been identical twins there had been similarities between them—hazel eyes, straight noses and curvy mouths. But Sara had cropped her hair short and bleached it platinum blonde for their Greek holiday. In contrast, Abby had kept her shoulder length caramel hair tied back in a ponytail and at that time had worn glasses. The two sisters could hardly have looked more different and unsurprisingly Mac had barely glanced at Abby back then. Even if he did recognise her, this was hardly the time or place to tell him about Sara and Emma. Not that she had decided what to tell him.
She forced a smile. ‘I don’t think so.’
He lost the frown and grinned at her. ‘You’re right,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I would have remembered you. I don’t tend to forget beautiful women.’ He winked at her.
‘And unless you’re losing it, they don’t tend to forget you either. That’s what you mean,’ chipped in Lucy. She turned to Abby, her eyes twinkling. ‘Watch out for our Mac here. We love him to bits, but he’s a heart-breaker. Luckily I’m too old for him and Kirsten’s already taken.’
‘You know I’d take you to dinner any day of the week, Lucy. Just say the word.’ Mac grinned back.
‘Ah, if only,’ Lucy sighed theatrically. She picked up her handbag. ‘I’m out of here.’
‘Me too,’ Kirsten said. ‘I’ve got work to do around here!’
Left alone with Mac, Abby felt as if she had a coiled spring somewhere in her chest. He was still looking at her through half-closed eyes as if she puzzled him. ‘Dr MacNeil,’ she said stiffly. ‘I think we should get on with that tour, don’t you?’
Again there was that heart-stopping grin. ‘Call me Mac. Everyone else does.’
Mac stood back to let Abby go in front of him. He whistled under his breath as he watched the way her bottom swayed as she walked. On anyone else the orange uniform tunic top and matching trousers would have been unflattering, but it could have been tailor made for Abby. And, even apart from her figure which looked as if it had been designed with him in mind, she was a stunner. A man could drown in those eyes and as for the high cheekbones, emphasised by the hint of colour his remarks had brought to her cheeks, he had dated models who would scratch their eyes out for bone structure like that. Even the spattering of freckles over her nose didn’t detract from her beauty—if anything, it made her cuter. He had already checked the third finger of her left hand. No wedding ring. Good. This was going to be interesting.
Mac had only just started showing Abby the little office where Kirsten and her small team fielded the calls when the telephone rang.
Kirsten held up a finger, asking for silence. They listened as she entered a few details into the computer.
‘Try not to worry, love. We’ll have someone there as soon as possible. Stay on the phone while I talk to the doctor.’
She swivelled around in her chair until she was facing Abby and Mac.
‘I have a lady on the line. She’s thirty-four weeks pregnant but thinks she’s gone into early labour. She can’t get herself to the hospital because she’s on a farm and her husband is away with the car.’ Kirsten covered the mouthpiece with her hand. ‘She also tells me she has placenta praevia and was due to be admitted for a Caesarean section in a couple of weeks.’
‘Where is the farm?’ Mac asked. Gone was the laconic man of earlier. In his place was someone who was entirely focussed.
Kirsten pointed to a map. ‘Over here.’
‘What about the local road ambulance?’ Abby asked.
Kirsten shook her head. ‘It’s at least an hour away on these roads and, besides, the woman—she’s called Jenny Hargreaves—says the track to the farm is pretty impassable for anything except a four-by-four. We’ve had some heavy rain over the last fortnight.’
‘We need to get her to the maternity unit as fast as possible,’ Mac said. ‘Okay, Kirsten, get Greg to fire the ‘copter up and tell Jenny we’re on our way. Is there anyone with her who can help? A friend? A neighbour?’
Kirsten shook her head. ‘She’s on her own, apart from her nine-year-old son.’
‘Get him on the line and keep him there. Then phone St Piran’s and bring them up to speed. Could you make sure we have an incubator for the baby on board, too? C’mon, Abby. I guess you’re on. Let’s go and get kitted up.’
As Abby raced after him down the steps and into the cloakroom where their gear was kept, she ran through what she knew about placenta praevia. And what she did know didn’t make her feel any better.
‘Not good news, is it?’ she said as Mac passed her a jacket.
‘Tell me what you know about the condition.’
‘Placenta praevia is where the placenta is lying in front of the baby, blocking the birth canal. I know it can cause massive, even fatal bleeding if left untreated. If she’s already in labour, we don’t have much time.’ Although they had covered complications of childbirth in their training, until Sara it hadn’t crossed Abby’s mind that it could really happen. Now she knew better. Please, God, don’t let this first call end in disaster.
‘Do we have an obstetrician on call?’ she asked.
‘At St Piran’s. Kirsten will patch us through as soon as we’re airborne. There’s no time to wait, though.’ Mac stopped for a moment and rested his hands on her shoulders. He looked directly into her eyes. ‘Are you going to be okay?’ His look was calm, reassuring. Everything about him radiated confidence and Abby relaxed a little.
‘Sure.’ She kept her voice light. ‘All in a day’s work.’
They piled into the helicopter and lifted off, heading towards the coast.
‘ETA twenty minutes,’ Greg’s voice came over the radio. ‘It’s a bit breezy where we’re heading so it might get a little bumpy.’
‘Do you think we’ll be able to put down?’ Mac asked.
‘There’s a good-sized field behind the farmhouse, but I guess it depends on how soggy the ground is. We won’t know until we get there.’
Abby and Mac shared a look.
‘Have you ever done an emergency section before?’ Abby asked. If they couldn’t get mother and baby to hospital, it would be their only chance. But such a procedure would be tricky even for a qualified obstetrician in a fully equipped theatre. Her heart started pounding again. Confidence was one thing, but did Mac have the skill needed to back it up?
‘I have.’ He leaned across and flashed Abby another wicked grin. ‘But don’t worry, I have every intention of letting the obstetricians do it.’ He held up a finger and listened intently.
A quiet voice came over the radio. ‘Hello, Mac. Dr Gibson here. What do we have?’
‘A thirty-four-weeker with placenta praevia who has gone into early labour. Control has her son on the phone. Mum tells him she thinks her contractions are coming about five minutes apart. The mother’s name is Jenny Hargreaves. She tells us she was due to be delivered by section at St Piran’s so you should have her case notes there.’
There was a short silence. Abby guessed Dr Gibson was bringing up Jenny’s record on her computer screen.
‘I’ll make sure neonatal intensive care is standing by and that we have a theatre ready. How long d’you think before you’ll have her here for us?’
‘Another ten minutes until we land. If we can. Say another ten to examine our lady and get her loaded and twenty back. Do you think we’ll make it?’ Again there was that easy smile as if this was just another everyday callout.
‘If anyone can, you can,’ came back the reply. ‘But if she’s gone into active labour she could be bleeding massively and you may have to section her there and then. It won’t be easy.’
‘Hell, whoever said anything is easy in this job? But trust me.’ He turned and winked at Abby. ‘If I can get her to you without having to section her, I will.’ He flexed long fingers. ‘Been a long time since I did one of those.’
‘Good luck,’ Dr Gibson said calmly.
A short while later they reached the farm. To Abby’s relief the pilot had been able to find a spot to land. The helicopter rotors had barely slowed when Mac hefted the large medical bag over his shoulder.
‘Okay, we’re on. Remember to keep your head down.’ Abby took a deep breath, sent a silent prayer towards heaven, and followed him out of the helicopter.
Mac sprinted towards the farmhouse, carrying the medical case that weighed at least ten kilos as if it were nothing. Abby ran after him, doing her best to keep up.
A child with wide, frightened eyes was waiting for them by the doorway.
‘Please hurry, my mum is bleeding,’ the boy said.
This was the worst possible news. Jenny being in labour was one thing, but they had banked on having enough time to get her to hospital. If she had started bleeding it meant that the placenta was beginning to detach. As it did, the baby’s life support system became compromised and the life of the mother was in jeopardy. It would have been dangerous enough in hospital, but all Abby and Mac had was some morphine and basic equipment. It wasn’t good. Abby’s heart jumped to her throat.
Mac paused by the doorway and hunkered down so that he was at eye level with the boy. He placed a hand on the child’s shoulder.
‘What’s your name, son?’
‘Tim.’
‘It’s going to be all right, Tim, I promise. Now, if you could take us to your mum, we’ll look after her.’
Whatever Tim saw in Mac’s eyes seemed to reassure him. He nodded and led them inside the farmhouse and into a bedroom. On the bed, a woman lay writhing with pain. She was pale and her eyes were stretched wide with fear.
Abby and Mac rushed to her side.
‘Jenny, isn’t it?’ Mac said as he laid the medical case on the floor. ‘I’m Dr MacNeil and this is Abby Stevens. We’re going to do everything we can to look after you and your baby.’
Abby felt Jenny’s pulse.
‘Over one hundred and thready,’ she told Mac as she unwrapped the stethoscope from around her neck.
‘How long have you been bleeding? And when did the contractions start? ‘ Mac asked.
‘I just started bleeding a few minutes ago. The contractions started about an hour ago. I phoned the hospital and they said they would get an ambulance.’ Jenny reached out a hand and squeezed Abby’s fingers hard. ‘You have to save my baby. Please. You’ve got to help us.’
‘We are going to do everything possible,’ Abby replied with what she hoped was a confident smile.
She checked Jenny’s blood pressure. As expected, it was low. Jenny was already bleeding heavily.
‘I’m just going to give you some fluids through a needle in your vein,’ Mac explained as he swabbed a patch of skin near Jenny’s elbow. ‘Then we’re going to get you onto a stretcher and into the air ambulance, okay?’
‘What about Tim? I can’t leave him here by himself. My husband isn’t due back until tomorrow morning.’
‘Is there a neighbour we could call for you?’
Jenny shook her head. ‘We only moved here a couple of months ago. I don’t know anyone yet. I’ve been so busy getting ready for the new baby.’
‘In that case, Tim can come in the helicopter with us. How about it, Tim? ‘ Mac turned to the little boy who had remained by the door, taking everything in with wide eyes.
‘Wicked,’ he said. Now adults were taking control, the colour had returned to his face.
Mac finished setting up the drip.
‘Okay, Jenny. The helicopter’s just outside waiting to take you to hospital. We’re going to get you on board as quickly as we can.’
Jenny clutched her stomach as another contraction took hold. ‘Just get me to the hospital,’ she said through gritted teeth. Then she forced a smile and turned to her son. ‘Tim will help, won’t you, love? ‘
Tim’s terror had disappeared. Whether it was because they were there helping his mother or whether it was the excitement of the helicopter ride, Abby didn’t know or care. All that mattered was that the boy was calm. It would help Jenny and give them one less thing to worry about.
Abby draped a blanket round her patient before strapping her into the stretcher. As they carried her outside, Abby tried not to wince when a contraction gripped the mother and she squeezed Abby’s fingers with ferocious strength.
Please let her hang in there, Abby prayed silently. At least until they got her to hospital. She slid a glance at Mac. Nothing in his demeanour indicated that at any time they could be dealing with a life-and-death scenario. Was he really as calm as he appeared?
Inside the helicopter they attached Jenny to the onboard monitoring equipment and pumped fluids into her. Abby checked the fetal heartbeat again. So far so good.
As soon as they had Jenny settled and the helicopter was heading towards St Piran’s, Mac raised his thumb to Tim. Greg had given the boy a helmet and earmuffs to deaden the noise.
Tim returned the salute, unable to hide his excitement.
Abby slid a glance at Mac as he leaned over Jenny. He puzzled her. Everything about him contradicted the image of him she had held in her head for the last twelve years. Whenever she’d thought about him, she’d imagined an ageing Lothario chatting up young women on the beach under the pretext of teaching them how to windsurf, not this caring and utterly professional doctor.
Even if it was obvious from his behaviour when they’d met as well as Lucy’s comments that he still was a blatant flirt she liked the way he had taken the time to reassure Tim.
Her thoughts were interrupted as the helicopter touched down on the hospital landing pad. Abby breathed a deep sigh of relief. They had made it!
‘Stick close to me,’ Mac said to Tim after removing the young lad’s helmet.
The helicopter’s rotors hadn’t even stopped when the hospital staff were there to take charge of Jenny. The transfer was quick. Mac and Abby updated the hospital staff as they ran next to the trolley with Tim following closely behind.
‘Thanks, guys. We’ll take it from here,’ the doctor Mac had addressed as Dr Gibson said.
They watched as Jenny disappeared from view.
‘C’mon, Tim. Why don’t we get you a drink or something?’ Abby offered, knowing that now the excitement of the helicopter journey was over the boy would start fretting again. ‘And in the meantime we can try and get your dad on the phone and either me or Dr MacNeil here will speak to him. How does that sound?’
‘Sounds okay. When can I see Mum?’
‘Not for a little while,’ Abby said. ‘But while Dr MacNeil is speaking to your father, I’ll find somewhere where you can wait.’
Tim’s face crumpled. ‘I don’t want to stay on my own. I want my dad.’
Abby felt terrible for the little boy. If something happened to her, she’d hate for Emma to be left alone. But what could they do? They had to get back to the air ambulance base. There could be another call at any time.
But Mac seemed to have his own ideas. ‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘When I speak to your dad, I’ll suggest you come back with Abby and me to the air ambulance headquarters. How about it? You could have a look around see all the stuff we use. We have some cool things we can do with our computers. I’ll let the staff here know where we are and as soon as they have any news about your mum they can let us know. What do you say?’
Tim’s face brightened. ‘Could I? No one will mind? I promise I won’t get in the way.’
Once more, Abby was pleasantly surprised. Mac could easily have left the child here. After all they had done their job and Tim wasn’t their responsibility. She really had underestimated him. Nothing about him made sense. Her head was beginning to ache. Right now she would have given anything for some time on her own to think, but she had promised Tim a drink while they waited for Mac to speak to his father and do the handover.
Spotting a vending machine against the wall inside the A & E department, Abby scrabbled in her pocket for some change and fed it into the slot. To no avail—the wretched machine stubbornly refused to part with its goods. Banging with the flat of her hand against the side had no effect either.
‘Here, let me help.’ A woman who looked as if she had stepped out of a magazine came across. She fiddled with the machine and a can rolled out.
‘It just takes a certain knack.’ She held out a manicured hand. ‘You must be new. I’m Rebecca O’Hara, my husband Josh is one of the A & E consultants.’
‘Abby Stevens. First day with the Air Ambulance Service.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Abby. Where are you from? I can tell by your accent that you’re not from here.’
‘I’ve been living in London for the last few years.’
‘London?’ Rebecca looked wistful. ‘Don’t you miss it?’
‘I love it here,’ Abby said honestly. She glanced across the room to where an anxious Tim was waiting for her. Although she had the distinct impression Rebecca wanted to chat, Abby didn’t like to leave the boy any longer than she had to.
Just then Mac appeared. ‘Oh, hello, Rebecca.’ He smiled. ‘If you’re waiting to see Josh, I’m afraid he’s up to his neck with patients at the moment.’
Rebecca looked dejected. ‘I’ll have a cup of coffee with the nurses while I’m waiting.’
She turned back to Abby. ‘Lovely to meet you. Perhaps we could have a coffee some time?’ And then with a flutter of slim fingers she headed towards the staffroom.
Back at base, no one seemed particularly surprised to see Tim. Mac gave him the promised tour after which he settled Tim in front of the computers and started explaining how the system worked.
A little while later, Dr Gibson phoned to say that they had sectioned Jenny and although she had lost a great deal of blood, she and her new baby son were going to be fine. Tim was ecstatic about having a brother, but as it was going to be a couple of hours before Jenny would come around properly from the anaesthetic, they decided to keep him with them a bit longer. Tim’s father was on his way to the hospital.
‘I’ll drop Tim back at the hospital later,’ Mac said to Abby. ‘I’m due to do some teaching there this afternoon.’
Abby raised an eyebrow.
‘I keep my hand in at the hospital when we’re not busy. It helps keep me up to date and it only takes me a couple of minutes to get back here if we get a callout.’ He smiled. ‘You don’t fancy a drink later, by any chance? I can tell you all about Penhally.’ His expression was teasing, his eyes glinting.
Abby was horrified to feel a tingle run down her spine. Damn it! Why did she have to find him so damn sexy? Even sexier and better looking than twelve years ago. And the fact that he had a caring side made him all the more attractive. What was she thinking? There was no way she could be attracted to her dead sister’s ex-lover; it was too weird. What was more, she had to remember that Mac was the type of man for whom flirting was as natural as breathing. It didn’t mean anything. Wasn’t the way he’d treated Sara evidence of that?
He was looking at her, waiting for her reply, certain she would say yes. He was so supremely confident she would love to turn him down. And she would have, if it wasn’t for Emma. Her antennae, honed by years of being let down by men just like him, were on red alert. Of all the men in all the world, why did she have to be working with him?
Despite every nerve cell in her brain telling her to keep her distance from this man, for her daughter’s sake, she needed to learn more about him. Emma was going to a friend’s after school and wouldn’t be home until seven. Abby made up her mind.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ she said. ‘I like to go for a walk after work. You can join me if you want.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s up to you.’ Smiling to herself as she saw the look of surprise in his eyes, she whirled on her heel, ignoring the feeling that two blue eyes were watching her speculatively.
Mac watched Abby’s retreating back until she was out of sight. He would have bet a hundred bucks she had been about to turn him down, and her acceptance had taken him by surprise. Not that a walk was what he had in mind and not that he would have let one refusal put him off. In fact, it would have heightened the excitement of the chase. He tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling lurking somewhere deep down that felt uncomfortably like shame. Should he really be going after Abby? Although she intrigued and excited him, there was a certain wariness about her that suggested she had been hurt before, perhaps badly. And then there was the odd way she had kept looking at him during the callout. For someone as experienced as she was supposed to be there was an edginess about her that, while not quite alarming him, concerned him a little.
There was something else about Abby that was niggling him. He could have sworn he had met her before, but he had to be mistaken. He might have been with a lot of women in his life, but he would never have forgotten someone like her.
What was her story anyway? Not that it really mattered. He liked women, enjoyed their company and had a lot of respect for them, but he had no intention of having a long-term relationship with one. Once they made demands on him, he couldn’t help but lose interest. But he was getting way ahead of himself. This was simply a walk with a colleague, albeit a beautiful one. What was the harm in that? Nevertheless, however much he tried to dismiss the feeling of unease, he couldn’t quite shake it. A sixth sense he had relied on all his life was telling him that something extraordinary had arrived in the form of Abby Stevens and he wasn’t sure he liked the feeling one little bit.
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