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Sarah's Gift
‘Maybe.’
She hugged her arms around herself, eyes staring wildly from one to the other, and a shudder ran through her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I had no idea…’
‘Poor kid,’ Sarah murmured, and went over to her. ‘Jo, it’s OK. It is nasty. Today hasn’t been good. That last case—it was a bit rough. Have a cup of tea.’
‘Is that everybody’s answer to everything?’ Jo said wildly. ‘Have a cup of tea? The universal panacea?’
‘That’s the boy,’ Jack murmured, squatting in front of her, mug in hand. ‘Here, drink up. You’re shocked. You’ll get used to it. We all start like this, full of ideals and thinking the old hands are callous. Some of us have been doing it for so long we can hardly remember what it was like to start, but we’ve all been there. You just take your time.’
He straightened. ‘I think you need to work in gently—nice easy cases, nothing too much at first. Why don’t you go with Sarah and she can show you a bit of front-of-house stuff in the triage room? Show you how the categories are made up, how the patients are sorted into priorities?’
She nodded, and Sarah slipped an arm round her and gave her a hug. ‘You’ll do. Drink your tea and come and find me—I’ll get out there now, I think there’s a bit of a queue after the last two.’
The afternoon passed a little better after that. Nothing else horrendous came in, and Sarah was able to teach Jo some of the fundamentals of processing the patients.
She seemed grateful. She even apologised for being critical, but Sarah brushed it aside, not wanting to get into this conversation. She could tell where it was leading, and she didn’t want to talk about Rob and the boys, at least not while she was at work.
She handed over to the next nursing team at four thirty, and then went into the staffroom for a cold drink, before setting off for home. She mixed the last of the squash and was drinking it when Matt came in and eyed it longingly. ‘Is there any more? I could drink the sea dry.’
‘No, sorry.’ She handed the last of it to him. ‘Here, have this.’
He drained it, his throat working, and she watched the stubble-shadowed skin of his jaw with fascination. Then he set the glass down and winked at her. ‘Thanks. I needed that. How’s the drama critic?’
She smiled, ignoring the flutter in her chest. ‘Jo? OK now.’
‘She’ll learn. Listen, about that swimming pool you told me about yesterday. I—ah—I don’t suppose you want to come with us one day this weekend? Show us where it is, have some fun?’
An icy shiver slid down her spine. ‘It’s easy to find,’ she told him evasively. ‘I could show you on a map…’
He dug up one of those smiles of his that seemed to undermine her resolve. ‘I can find it, I’m sure. I just thought it would be nice for us to have company. Anyway, I actually wanted a favour. I can’t take Emily in the men’s room any more—she’s getting a bit big, but not quite big enough to go into the ladies’ room on her own.’
‘How do you normally manage?’ she asked, ignoring the shiver.
He shrugged. ‘Usually I ask a likely-looking mum to give her a hand, but I’d be much happier knowing she was with someone I could really trust—and it can get a bit boring, waiting for her to decide she’s had enough. It would be much more pleasant with a civilised adult to talk to.’
His smile was guileless, innocent—and very appealing.
‘How about Ryan?’ she suggested, still looking for a way out.
‘I ask him for so much as it is—and, anyway, I don’t want Emily getting too close to Ryan’s kids if she’s got to leave them in a few months—besides which, if Ginny comes with Ryan I’ll feel like a gooseberry again, and if she doesn’t it won’t help with the changing-room problem.’ His smile curled round her again, decimating her defences. ‘Are you sure I can’t persuade you?’
‘Just a swim?’ she said suspiciously. ‘This isn’t a chat-up line?’
He looked surprised, and she felt suddenly foolish.
‘Oh, no,’ he hastened to assure her. ‘I’m here for just three months, and I don’t believe in quicky affairs. Trust me, I really meant only a swim, or perhaps a burger afterwards—definitely no strings, I promise.’
And just like that, she found herself talked into it. She even volunteered to be their guide over the coming weekend to show them a little bit of Suffolk—and told herself it was for the sake of the little girl, and nothing to do with a tall, rangy Canadian with a voice like roughened silk and legs that stretched halfway to Alaska…
CHAPTER THREE
SATURDAY morning was cold, bright and just the sort of day for a lovely brisk walk. Sarah wondered if there was the slightest chance she could talk Matt and Emily into it as an alternative to swimming, but she might have known she couldn’t.
They arrived as arranged to pick her up at nine-thirty, and when Matt pulled up on the drive in his rental Ford Emily leapt out of the back and ran to the door, just as Sarah opened it.
She looked down at the little girl and her heart sank. She knew, beyond any doubt, that they were going swimming. There was no way Sarah could disappoint her. Her eyes sparkled, her hair was flying and bouncing as she skidded to a halt, and her voice was a breathless squeak.
‘Have you got your swimsuit on? I have—I’m all ready. All I have to do is take off my jumper and jeans—’
‘Hi, there.’ Matt’s voice was low and soft and slithered over her nerve-endings, leaving her weak-kneed. ‘Emily, darling, slow down. It’s too early to be so cheerful.’
So he wasn’t a morning person, Sarah thought with a little smile. She opened the door wider. ‘Hi. Come in—I’ve just got to pick up my things.’
They followed her into the hall, and she ran upstairs and picked up the bag from her bed. She’d got it ready earlier, all the while debating whether she could bring herself to do this. Now, it seemed, she had no choice. She didn’t give herself any more time to fret about it, but ran downstairs again and smiled brightly.
‘Right, then, shall we go?’
Matt gave her a keen look and she wondered if her false cheer was really that transparent or if she had a smut on her nose.
They arrived at the swimming pool within minutes, and she took Emily through to the changing room. It was, in fact, a communal changing room, with cubicles and family areas, so Matt could have brought Emily by himself. Still, it was too late now to back out, she thought, and, anyway, she might surprise herself and enjoy it.
She always used to, but that, of course, was before—
‘Sarah? Are you ready yet?’
She looked down at Emily, bouncing and squirming on the spot, and ruffled her hair. ‘Yes, sweets, I’m ready. Come on.’
They held hands and went through the shower together, and the feel of those trusting little fingers curled around hers made Sarah forget what she was about to do. Thank God for the shower, she thought, sticking her head under it so that water ran down her face and disguised the tears. That little hand.,.
‘OK, guys?’
Her breath stopped dead in her chest. Matt was propped against the wall, legs crossed at the ankle, arms folded over a broad chest with a light scattering of hair arrowing down the centre. Water from the shower beaded his skin, glistening in the bright lights and showing off his powerful shoulders.
He shrugged away from the wall, his muscles rippling slightly, and Sarah tried to remember how her feet worked and how to make her breath go in and out. And she’d thought he looked good in clothes?
‘All set?’
She nodded, swallowing hard and dragging her eyes away from his body. Emily bounced over to him and caught his hand, towing him towards the leisure pool—and Sarah, too, because her hand was still firmly held as well. There were fountains and islands, a crocodile lurking in the shallows, and lots of little children splashing and shrieking and having a wonderful time.
She felt the tension leave her. It was just a swimming pool. She would be fine. They would be fine.
She let them lead her into the water, absently noticing a lifeguard on duty at the side of the pool, watchful eyes scanning the area, whistle at the ready to halt any silliness. Emily slipped her hand free and dived into the water, turning onto her back and beckoning Sarah.
‘Catch me!’
She turned over and sped off, slippery as an eel, darting through the water and disappearing behind an island.
‘It’s deep there,’ she began worriedly, but Matt just grinned.
‘She swims like a fish. She’s fine. You go that way, I’ll go the other.’
She went, but slowly, and wasn’t surprised to hear a little shriek and find Emily in Matt’s arms, giggling and splashing him. He released the child and followed her, disappearing under the surface and tickling her. Sarah decided they could both swim a lot better than she could, and so she left them to it, wallowing on her back in the shallows, elbows propped on the shelving ‘beach’, watching them.
Emily certainly seemed to be having fun—and so was she, Sarah discovered to her amazement. Matt appeared, swarming over the crocodile and sitting astride it, grinning. ‘Mick Dundee, ma’am, at your service,’ he said in a lousy Australian accent.
She laughed and splashed him. ‘Idiot.’
He grinned, unabashed by her put-down, and settled beside her, legs outstretched, scanning the water and checking Emily. They chatted idly, his eyes never leaving Emily, and Sarah thought what a good and devoted father he was.
They were interrupted by a disembodied voice, calling for everyone’s attention and warning them that the wave machine was going to be switched on. ‘Everybody behind the steps, please. All non-swimmers stay behind the islands.’
‘Will Emily be all right?’ Sarah asked worriedly. ‘Shouldn’t she be back here?’
‘She’s fine. She loves wave machines. Come on in.’ He stood up and held out a hand to her, but she scooted further up the beach and shook her head.
‘No, I’ll stay here. You go to Emily.’
He hesitated, then nodded and turned, wading out towards his daughter. He reached her just as Sarah felt a pull on the water around her legs, a current, like an undertow—
She scrambled to her feet and went and sat on a low wall overlooking the pool, fighting the waves of panic that threatened to swamp her. Was that what it had been like, to feel the suck of the water, dragging you down?
Her arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her sides, and a shudder ran through her. She was rocking, she realised, and a woman paused beside her and studied her anxiously. ‘Are you all right, my love?’ she asked gently.
Sarah forced a smile and made herself sit still. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit cold, but I hate the waves.’
‘Me, too. Here, borrow this towel for a moment. My kids won’t mind.’
She wrapped a soft, warm towel round Sarah’s shoulders and sat beside her, chattering inconsequentially. Gradually the shudders died away, and the sound of the laughing, happy children penetrated the fog of panic surrounding her.
She looked up and saw Matt and Emily, surfing up the beach. As they turned to go back towards the deep end, a boy ran along the side of the pool and slipped.
He landed flat on his back, his head hit the edge with a sickening thud and he slid over the side into the deepest part of the water—right by the gaping maw of the wave machine. Matt must have seen because he turned and disappeared beneath the water, heading for the spot where the boy had slipped under.
‘No!’ She leapt to her feet, dropping the towel, and ran down the side as the lifeguard blew a whistle. She could see Matt being sucked down after the boy, reaching for him, grabbing him, both of them pulled against the mesh guard over the wave machine, Panic clawed at her again, choking her, and hot tears stung her eyes. ‘Help them!’ Sarah screamed. ‘Get them out!’
‘Everybody clear the pool,’ a voice said over the loudspeakers, and a lifeguard dived in beside Matt and helped him bring the boy to the surface.
The wave machine must have been switched off, she realised dimly as Matt and the lifeguard swam up to the beach and carefully slid the boy up onto the tiles.
Matt was looking around, searching for someone, and caught her eye. ‘Sarah, come here. I need your help.’
She stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move as relief washed over her. He was alive. He hadn’t drowned—
‘Sarah!’
His voice galvanised her, and she crossed quickly to him, pushing through the crowd that was now forming.
‘I’ve got a first-aid certificate,’ someone was saying.
‘It’s all right, he’s a doctor,’ she said absently, and knelt down on the other side of the boy, facing Matt. ‘He hit his head.’
‘I know. It’s starting to bleed, but I want to check his spine. I think he winded himself, so hopefully there isn’t any water in his lungs—the wave machine would have sucked it out anyway. Check his airway.’
She did, by lifting his jaw without touching his neck, functioning on autopilot.
‘Airway’s fine, but he’s not breathing.’ She bent over and closed her mouth over the boy’s nose and mouth, breathing firmly into him. His lungs seemed to resist the inflation and she wondered how badly he’d winded himself. Sometimes if the air was knocked right out of the lungs they found it almost impossible to inflate again.
‘Any joy?’ he asked her.
‘Maybe. His pulse is strong.’
‘Daddy? Matt?’
‘It’s OK, sweetheart—just sit down and wait for me, darling, there’s a good girl. He’s going to be all right.’ His hand continued to slide down the boy’s spine, feeling each vertebra for any possible abnormality.
‘Seems OK—it was a pretty flat landing but I want to be sure.’ He turned to the lifeguard who was trying to disperse the crowd. ‘Do you have a backboard?’
‘Sure. I’ll get it.’
‘Why do they want a blackboard?’ someone asked.
‘A backboard, stupid—I think he’s broken his back,’ was the reply. ‘I expect he’ll be paralysed.’
Matt took the boy’s arms and lifted them up and out, pulling the chest wall up as Sarah breathed into his mouth. Just then the boy coughed, dragged in a great gasp of air and started to cry, curling up his legs and wrapping his arms around his waist.
‘He’s not paralysed,’ the first one said, sounding almost disappointed.
The rest of the crowd cheered. Sarah ignored them, concentrating her attention on the boy and comforting him by holding his hand while Matt checked his pupils and spoke to him, asking his name, the day of the week, how he’d got to the pool that morning—anything to check that he knew who and where he was.
‘He seems lucid. I think he’s been lucky. Darren, are your parents here?’
‘No—I’m with my mates.’
Matt lifted his head. ‘Darren’s friends about?’ he asked the crowd.
Two boys stepped forward, looking worried. Matt turned to the lifeguard. ‘Can we get rid of the rest of this lot? If we can slip him onto the backboard and lift him out of the way, they can all carry on and we won’t have an audience. We need to call an ambulance—I want to get this head checked and stitched and make sure everything else is OK. Do you boys know his home phone number?’
‘Yeah.’
An official was there by then, hovering and making notes, and he took the boys off to contact Darren’s parents, with Matt’s instructions that they were to proceed directly to the hospital.
A few minutes later Darren was removed in the ambulance, the ‘beach’ had been swabbed down and the place was back to normal. Sarah, though, felt as if she’d lost ten years off her life.
Matt took her arm and towed her towards the changing rooms, Emily tucked in against his side. ‘Emily, you go with Sarah and get changed, I’ll see you out the front in a few minutes. I want to follow him to the hospital.’
His eyes were keen, searching Sarah’s face, and she avoided them. She nodded and shepherded Emily to the lockers, retrieved their clothes and went and changed.
‘I don’t have my underwear!’ Emily wailed, searching through her things. ‘I forgot!’
Sarah dredged up a smile. ‘Just put your clothes on without, and we’ll go home and change you after your daddy’s checked things at the hospital. OK?’
Emily nodded and struggled into her jeans, trailing the hems in a puddle and getting stuck halfway down one leg, with her wet foot refusing to release the fabric.
Sarah helped her, towelled and combed her hair and then quickly finished herself off, before gathering their wet things up and pushing them into a bag. ‘All set?’
Emily nodded, and together they went out, Emily still wriggling one foot into a shoe, to find Matt waiting, pacing the foyer. They all but ran to the car, and once at the hospital he told Sarah to entertain Emily while he checked Darren.
She took the little girl into the staffroom and got her a glass of squash, then hunted around to see if there was anything to eat.
Oh, look, a box of chocolates. They must be from a patient. Here, have one.’
She had three in the end before Matt appeared with a smile in the doorway.
‘OK?’
‘Yes, he’s fine, he’s gone home with a head injuries card just in case, but I’m sure he’ll be fine.’
He helped himself to a chocolate, then looked at the other two. ‘Right, how would you like to go and play with Evie and Gus while I take Sarah for a coffee?’
‘OK. I’ve got no underwear on—I forgot.’ She wrinkled her little nose, and he laughed and hugged her head against his side.
‘I’m sure Evie will have some she can lend you, just this once. Come on.’
‘I don’t really need a coffee,’ Sarah told him, wondering how long it would be before she could go home, crawl into a corner and forget about the last few hours. It had all been too much, and she really didn’t feel up to making small talk or, worse still, rehashing the events.
She just wanted to forget.
Matt, though, didn’t seem to be about to let her. ‘I need one,’ he told her, ‘and I could use some company.’
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