Emergency: Christmas

‘‘‘Penny Lane’’? You know—the Beatles’ song?’ Belinda began humming loudly.

‘Go away, Bindy.’ Penelope couldn’t help laughing. ‘I’ve got work to do.’

Penelope was still smiling as she moved back to the sorting desk. Her name was on the whiteboard to take the next patient and it looked like she had a nosebleed to sort out. She had to concede that Penny Lane might be a name that could cause some amusement but Penelope Lane had a much more dignified ring to it.

In fact, it had a very nice ring to it indeed.

CHAPTER TWO

THERE was something distinctly unsettling about pale-coloured eyes.

These were pale blue eyes with a darker rim that seemed to emphasise the intensity of the stare that Penelope was receiving.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Penny.’ Penelope glanced at the booking-in paperwork in her hand. ‘And you’re Aaron, aren’t you?’

He nodded without returning the smile. ‘Aaron Jacobs. Do you like being a nurse?’

‘Of course. It’s my job. Come this way, Aaron. Have you been waiting long?’

‘It doesn’t matter. I know how busy you guys are. Where are we going?’

‘Cubicle 10. It’s this way.’

‘What’s going to happen? Are you coming with me, Penny?’

‘I’m going to be your nurse,’ Penelope confirmed. ‘I’ll check you out and then one of the doctors will come to see you. It’s your wrist that you’ve hurt, isn’t it?’ She glanced at the tall, lanky young man walking beside her. His right hand cradled his left elbow, the injured wrist and hand tucked inside a faded and grubby denim jacket.

‘That’s right. I whacked it with a hammer.’

‘Accidentally, I hope!’ Penelope laughed and her patient finally smiled at her. ‘Here we are, Aaron. Let’s get your jacket off so I can see your wrist and then I’ll get you to climb up on the bed.’

Penelope unbuttoned the cuffs of the jacket and eased it carefully off the injured side. The left wrist looked very swollen, a nasty pale lump with an inflamed red edge at the base of the thumb.

‘You’ve certainly given that a good thump,’ Penelope observed. ‘What were you using? A sledgehammer?’

Aaron smiled again as he climbed up to sit on the edge of the bed. He held his left arm out towards Penelope. ‘It hurts,’ he informed her.

‘I’m not surprised. Can you wiggle your fingers?’

Aaron complied with a groan. ‘That hurts, too.’

Penelope took hold of the hand gently. ‘Can you squeeze my fingers?’

The pressure was surprisingly firm. ‘That’s pretty good.’ Penelope nodded. ‘OK, you can let go now.’

‘Do you like being a nurse?’

Penelope’s nod was brisk. She took a careful breath, trying to detect any recent alcohol consumption on her patient’s part. It wasn’t just that Aaron was repeating the question he had asked only minutes before. There was something about his stare that was vaguely disturbing.

‘Nurses help people, don’t they?’

‘They do.’ Penelope picked up the clipboard and pen lying on the end of the bed. ‘I need to write a few more details for the doctor here, Aaron. How old are you?’

‘Twenty-five. How old are you, Penny?’

‘A lot older than you.’ Penelope wasn’t going to encourage a personal conversation. ‘What were you doing at the time of your accident?’

‘Knocking a hole in my wall.’

‘And what happened?’

‘I was holding a bit of wood that got stuck. I aimed a really big hit at the end of it but I missed.’

‘What time did this happen?’

‘Dunno. I don’t wear a watch.’

‘Was it this afternoon?’

‘Yeah. Couple of hours ago, I guess.’

About the time that the resuscitation on Richard Milne had been in full swing. Penelope’s thoughts were diverted momentarily as she wondered how the young paraglider was doing. There had been no time to follow up any developments because of the stream of minor cases she’d had under her care. No opportunities to talk to Belinda or even think about the plans her friend might be hatching to get her a little closer to Jeremy. Penelope sighed lightly. No chance of having to call in an anaesthetics registrar for this patient. She pulled the blood-pressure stand towards the bed.

‘I’m going to take your blood pressure, Aaron. I need to wrap this cuff around your arm. Can you pull your shirtsleeve up for me, please?’

‘Sure.’

Penelope had to stand closer to her patient as she applied the cuff. She avoided eye contact but she could feel his gaze on her.

‘You’re beautiful, Penny.’

Penelope’s smile was extremely brief. She fitted the earpieces of her stethoscope into place and positioned the disc on the inside of Aaron’s elbow, apparently concentrating on her task. The vital sign measurement was automatic, however, and Penelope’s thoughts strayed again. Did Jeremy think she was beautiful? He had certainly managed to make her feel attractive over the last few weeks but did she have genuine cause to believe that? The comments had been few in reality but treasured all the more for their rarity.

Like the day she hadn’t tried to tame her wildly curly black hair into its usual short ponytail. She had just taken a section from the front at both sides and drawn them into a small plait at the back, leaving the rest of her curls to cover her ears with the ends just touching her shoulders. Rules about hairstyles were much more relaxed these days and the only comment she had received had been from Jeremy.

‘Love your hair like that,’ he’d said. ‘It really suits you.’

Penelope had been wearing her hair exactly like that ever since. Had Jeremy noticed? She released the valve on the sphygmomanometer. ‘One-twenty over 80,’ she informed Aaron. ‘Perfectly normal.’ Penelope placed her fingers on her patient’s wrist, her gaze now fastened on the second hand of her watch. ‘I’ll just check your pulse now, Aaron.’

He was still staring at her with those oddly pale eyes. Penelope’s eyes weren’t pale. What was it Jeremy had said? It hadn’t been long after she’d met him for the first time. She had been doing the cricoid pressure on an intubation that Jeremy had been called in for. A very obese woman who’d suffered a major stroke. That had been a difficult case to intubate as well and their heads had been very close together at one stage during the procedure. Successfully completed, Penelope had been assisting in tying the endotracheal tube firmly into place and Jeremy had caught her eye. His voice had been low enough not to be overheard by the other staff members nearby.

‘Do you realise,’ he’d murmured, ‘that your eyes are exactly the colour of the delphiniums my mother used to grow in her garden?’ Jeremy had smiled at her, holding the eye contact for another split second. His final comment had been almost inaudible. ‘My favourite flowers.’

Penelope recorded the baseline heart and respiration rate she had now completed on Aaron Jacobs. She had the feeling her own rates had just increased significantly thanks to the direction of her straying thoughts. She turned her attention firmly back to the task in hand.

‘Do you have any other medical conditions you’re being treated for, Aaron?’

‘Asthma,’ he responded. ‘I’ve got a Ventolin inhaler but I don’t need it very often.’

‘Anything else?’

‘No.’

‘Are you allergic to any medications?’

‘No.’

‘How bad is the pain in your wrist at the moment?’

‘Pretty bad.’

‘On a scale of zero to ten, with zero being no pain and ten being the worst you could imagine, what score would you give it?’

‘About an eight.’

‘OK. I’ll see about getting you something to help with that. You’re going to need your wrist X-rayed to make sure you haven’t broken anything and then a doctor will come and see you.’ Penelope pulled back the cubicle curtain. ‘You might have a bit of a wait, I’m afraid. We’re quite busy today.’

‘That’s cool. I don’t mind waiting. Will you come back to look after me?’

‘I’ll be back as soon as I’ve organised some pain relief for you. There’s a buzzer beside the bed if you need it and I won’t be too far away. I’ve got other patients I need to take care of as well.’

Aaron settled back onto his pillow. ‘Leave the curtain open, won’t you?’ he requested. ‘That way I’ll be able to see you when you go past.’

Penelope complied, although she didn’t much like the thought of Aaron Jacobs watching out for her. She would try and make sure she didn’t need to go past cubicle 10 too often. Penelope almost smiled wryly at the thought. If it had been Jeremy in cubicle 10 she would have been walking past as often as possible—like she did when he was in the emergency department and she hadn’t been lucky enough to be involved in whatever case he had been called in for. She enjoyed providing a distraction almost as much as working with the man. Funny how you knew when someone was watching you even when you were being deliberately casual and not looking in their direction.

Penelope headed for cubicle 2. Perhaps Mrs Jennings was back from her ultrasound now and the provisional diagnosis of fibroids had been confirmed, which would explain the profuse intermenstrual bleeding the middle-aged woman was experiencing. Mrs Jennings was probably going to need admission in any case due to her severe anaemia. Cubicle 2 was still empty but Penelope took a minute to tidy up. Packaging and used IV supplies had been discarded on top of the locker after IV fluid replacement had been initiated. It was easy to let her attention wander again from such an automatic task.

Penelope’s thoughts had come full circle now. On balance, she did believe that Jeremy found her attractive. Maybe even beautiful. She hadn’t believed it at first. A lot of new doctors were inclined to flirt and it took time to decide whether that was simply the way they treated all the women in their orbit. Jeremy had never made any personal comments to other nurses that Penelope had overheard, however, and Belinda had told her he’d never shown the slightest interest in her. Surely if Jeremy was that way inclined then Penelope’s flatmate would have been a prime target. Belinda was gorgeous—tall and slim, with the combination of a long mane of red-gold hair and bright green eyes that were enough to send most male newcomers into a spin.

Yes. Penelope had every reason to believe that, for some obscure reason, Jeremy had singled her out to feel special...and she did. For the first time in longer than Penelope cared to remember she felt special, attractive. Desirable, even... And it felt so good. Greg’s blatant rejection in favour of what’s-her-name had been the last of a long run of romantic disasters. Penelope’s self-esteem and any belief in her desirability had hit rock bottom with a resounding clunk. It was no wonder she had fallen in love with Jeremy.

Penelope stopped with a lurch, halfway to the rubbish bin, her hands full of empty packaging. The inside of a used-up roll of tape fell and bounced on the linoleum. Was she actually in love with Jeremy Lane? In love with a man she hadn’t even kissed? Penelope thought about that tingle she got every time she heard his voice. The way her skin could feel when he was watching her. That feeling that was a bit more than a tingle—the one that always started low down in her abdomen when their eyes made contact. She could feel it now, just thinking about it, and it was strong enough to be unmistakable. Sheer physical desire. Penelope knew herself well enough to know she didn’t feel that way unless she was seriously in love.

The rubbish fitted neatly into the bin and Penelope stooped to retrieve the cardboard ring left over from the roll of adhesive tape. Yes. She was definitely in love with Jeremy and it was time things moved ahead. It shouldn’t be difficult if his attraction to her was genuine. Maybe Belinda was right. Or sort of right. There was no way Penelope could take the initiative by asking him out. That would be risking a rejection that could possibly be even more painful than Greg’s defection. There had to be a way of setting up an opportunity that Jeremy couldn’t miss—not just one that he wouldn’t want to miss. Not if he felt the same way she did. Belinda was bound to have some good ideas.

Penelope’s quick scan confirmed that cubicle 2 was acceptably tidy. She would see about some medication for Aaron Jacobs and if Mrs Jennings still wasn’t back from her ultrasound she’d grab a few minutes for a coffee. With a bit of luck, Belinda might be having a quiet spell and they could talk. That way Penelope wouldn’t have to wait until she got home that night to hatch a plan. She didn’t want to wait. Buoyed by her analysis of Jeremy’s genuine interest, Penelope felt a new confidence blooming. The time was right. The man was right. All that was needed was a way of pulling it all together.

Disappointingly, Belinda was heading away from the staffroom when Penelope arrived ten minutes later.

‘I was hoping to catch you. Have you finished your break?’

‘Nope. Just starting.’ Belinda held up a polystyrene cup full of coffee. ‘I’ve got ten minutes. I’m heading outside for a spot of fresh air. My last patient was a rectal bleed.’

‘Yuck.’ Penelope grimaced sympathetically. The smell that accompanied such a patient was as distinctive as it was unpleasant. ‘I’ll get my water out of the fridge and join you. I could do with some fresh air myself.’

The view of an overcrowded car park was not attractive and the breeze was chilly, but it was always good to escape completely if only briefly during a busy shift. It gave them a chance to forget professional matters for a few minutes. It was also a chance for Penelope to pay attention to her more personal preoccupation.

‘I think you’re right, Bindy,’ she announced.

‘Of course I am.’ Belinda grinned. ‘What about, in particular?’

‘Jeremy. It’s time to do something.’

Belinda raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re going to ask him out?’

‘No way.’ Penelope shook her head decisively. ‘He’s going to ask me out. I just need to set it up.’ Her smile was hopeful. ‘I’m sure he will. If he wasn’t interested he wouldn’t say the things he does. And he wouldn’t keep giving me those looks.’

‘Hmm.’ Belinda didn’t sound convinced. ‘He could be toying with you, you know. He might just be playing the game of getting you interested to prove to himself that he still has what it takes. He’s no spring chicken.’

‘He’s not exactly old. Thirty-eight maybe. Or forty.’

‘Probably forty-five,’ Belinda decided. ‘Grey hairs are less obvious on blonds.’ She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. ‘I suppose he’s not bad-looking but he’s not the only one. That new registrar of ours isn’t bad either. What’s his name?’

‘Mark Wallace.’ Penelope shrugged. She hadn’t taken much notice of Mark in the few days he’d been in the department. He had certainly performed impressively this morning, however, with the emergency procedure on the young paraglider. Penelope was easily diverted. ‘How’s Richard doing? Have you heard?’

‘He’s in Intensive Care. Apparently the CT scan didn’t show up any major brain damage or injury to the trachea and the swelling is going down with the ice packs and anti-inflammatory treatment. They’re going to set the fractures later today and they’ll take him off ventilation as soon as they’re sure the swelling is under control. I think he’s going to be fine.’

‘That’s fantastic.’ Penelope’s smile was very satisfied. ‘He could have died. Great case, wasn’t it?’

‘Yeah.’ Belinda drained her coffee-cup, checked her watch and sighed. ‘Two more minutes. I’m ready to go home.’

Penelope sighed as well. Belinda hadn’t been as supportive as she’d hoped so far. ‘What am I going to do, Bindy? About Jeremy, I mean?’

‘Let him think you haven’t got the slightest interest in him,’ Belinda advised. ‘Find someone else. There’s a new rotation of house-surgeons in there. Some of them are quite tasty.’

‘Bindy!’ Penelope would have been genuinely shocked if she hadn’t known her friend so well. She still shook her head in mild disapproval. ‘You can’t go round eyeing up every man that comes into the emergency department as a potential plaything.’

‘Why not? You can bet your boots that’s exactly what they’re doing to us.’ Belinda crumpled the polystyrene cup. ‘Come on. Back to the salt mines.’

‘I don’t want to just play.’ Penelope followed Belinda reluctantly. ‘I want something real.’

‘And you really think that Jeremy is the real thing?’

Penelope’s nod was solemn.

‘In that case, you need to spend some time away from work with him. Have a few drinks somewhere. Meet up at a party.’

Penelope nodded again, more happily this time, as the nurses skirted the car park. This sounded like a plan, though not an easily implemented one.

‘Nobody’s having parties at the moment. The weather’s still a bit iffy for barbecues and it’s too early for the Christmas rush.’

‘We could have a party.’

‘In our flat? We’d be lucky to squeeze six people into our living room.’

‘Hmm.’ Belinda paused as they reached the ambulance bay. ‘Where does he live?’

‘Nowhere. He asked me to go house-hunting with him a couple of weeks ago, remember?’

‘Oh, yes. The day he didn’t show up.’

‘He got called in.’

‘So he said. After he’d left you moping around, waiting all day.’

‘He couldn’t ring.’ Penelope had to defend Jeremy. ‘He was in Theatre.’

Belinda’s expression was enough to remind Penelope that even operating theatres were equipped with telephones but she didn’t press her point. ‘He must live somewhere.’

‘He’s got a room in ‘‘The Hovel’’.’

‘Aha! Excellent.’

‘Why?’ While the nickname for the huge, old house that had been converted to single doctors’ quarters dated from the days before extensive renovation, it was still not generally considered the most desirable residence.

‘There’s a bar downstairs. What time do you finish today?’

‘Six o’clock.’

‘Even better. I’m off at six-thirty. We’ll go and park ourselves in the bar. He’s bound to float past and we’ll nab him and offer him a drink.’

‘We can’t just go into the bar. It’s for residents only.’

‘And their guests. Matt Greenway is living there and he’s been after me to have a drink with him for weeks. Consider yourself invited, my friend. Wear something sexy.’

‘I don’t do sexy. I’ve only got my jeans here, anyway.’

‘Jeans can be very sexy.’

‘Only on a figure like yours. On mine, jeans are practical.’

‘What else did you wear in this morning? I can’t remember.’

‘Red jumper, white shirt.’

‘The red jumper’s good. Nice neckline. Ditch the shirt, though. Much sexier with nothing underneath.’

‘I’ll itch.’

The ambulance backing into the bay was a reminder that the two nurses had extended their break for too long. Belinda gave Penelope an exasperated glance. ‘Look, Penny—do you want to do something about him or not?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘Well, this is it. The best plan I can come up with. The rest is up to you.’

‘OK.’ Penelope took a very deep breath. ‘I’ll do it. No shirt.’

* * *

The plan had got off to a wonderful start. Matt Greenway seemed delighted to have Penelope’s company if it gave him a chance to spend time with Belinda. There were enough other people in the bar to make the atmosphere casual and Jeremy did, indeed, float past. Belinda took her cue perfectly.

‘Jeremy! Come and join us. You can give us an update on our paraglider.’

Jeremy nodded at Belinda and smiled warmly at Penelope. ‘I’ll get a drink and be right with you,’ he promised.

Now, however, the wheels appeared to have fallen off the plan. Jeremy had his drink but he wasn’t moving away from the bar. He was deep in conversation with Mark Wallace.

Belinda looked annoyed. She nudged Penelope. ‘You’ll have to go over there,’ she whispered, ‘and break it up.’

Penelope was disconcerted. ‘How?’

‘Go and get us some more drinks. Join the conversation and then steer Jeremy over here. Tell him I’m waiting to hear about our patient.’

Penelope moved before she had time to get nervous. The barman smiled at her.

‘Same again?’

Penelope nodded. She was listening to the conversation between the two men beside her.

‘I would have gone for a tracheostomy myself. We couldn’t be sure that the injury level was entirely above the larynx.’

‘It was worth a try. I’ve been taught to save tracheostomy for a last resort. There’s a high morbidity and the associated mortality risk is about three per cent. That’s not insignificant. I saw a burns patient die having one attempted a while back, and it left a major impression on me.’

The barman was sliding glasses across the bar towards Penelope. ‘Two white wines and one lager. Is that the lot?’

‘Yes, thanks.’

Jeremy turned at the sound of Penelope’s voice. ‘Penny. This is a lovely surprise. What brings you into The Hovel?’

‘My friend, Belinda. She was too shy to come by herself.’

Belinda’s peal of laughter from the other side of the room sounded anything but shy. Jeremy’s smile made Penelope feel as though he had seen through the plan instantly. She tried to ignore the threatened prickle of humiliation by glancing at Jeremy’s companion.

‘Hi, Mark. Are you living here, too?’

‘For the moment. I want to get my own place as soon as I can. I’m going to rent a car tomorrow to have a look at a couple of houses for rent around the harbour. I’d like a sea view.’

‘I love the sea, too. I love the smell of salt air and being able to hear the waves at night.’ Penelope found herself smiling. Mark was easy to talk to.

‘Makes the cars rust,’ Jeremy broke in. ‘I’d rather be up on the hills and just have the view.’

Penelope turned to collect her change from the barman. Was that how Jeremy saw her, perhaps? As part of a view? Jeremy was making this difficult. If she invited him to join their table now, it could be seen as a very obvious ploy to throw herself at the man. The flash of irritation took Penelope by surprise. So did the memory of a piece of Belinda’s advice. Maybe letting Jeremy think she wasn’t interested wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Maybe letting him think that she might be interested in someone else was an even better idea. Penelope picked up the wineglasses. She smiled at Mark.

‘I finish at two tomorrow,’ she told him casually. ‘If you don’t want the hassle of renting a car I’d be happy to play taxi driver. I was born and raised in Wellington so I know my way around.’

‘Thanks.’ Mark looked delighted. ‘I’d really appreciate that, Penny. How ’bout we meet here at two-thirty?’

‘I’ll be here.’ Penelope smiled again and included Jeremy in her glance. ‘See you later, Jeremy.’

Belinda’s dismayed expression at Penelope returning to their table alone was less pronounced than the one Jeremy had been trying to conceal when she’d left the bar. Penelope smiled reassuringly at Belinda. She’d fill her in later and thank her for having given her the idea in the first place. Plan B had definite possibilities. Penelope stole a glance at the bar and caught Jeremy’s thoughtful stare in her direction. She looked away hurriedly and bit back a satisfied smile.

Plan B appeared to be working perfectly already.

CHAPTER THREE

PENELOPE knew she ought to be feeling guilty.

Here she was, heading out on a date with a man who had no idea of the part he was playing in Plan B. But Penelope wasn’t feeling guilty at all. In fact, Mark’s company was so relaxing she could forget about Plan B and the frustration in her life that had led to its creation. Even the weather was doing its bit to add to a pleasant afternoon. The dark clouds and squalls of heavy spring rain had cleared to leave only cotton-wool puffs scudding across a brilliant blue sky. The stiff breeze was still chilly and Penelope was glad she had chosen to wear her red jumper again—this time with the warmth of a shirt underneath. Woolly socks and trainers on her feet might not be as sexy as the summer sandals she had considered briefly but, then, this wasn’t a real ‘date’. Merely an outing. A helpful gesture towards a new colleague who was turning out to be very pleasant company.