A Love Against All Odds

‘Do you know what day it is, Adam?’ Henry asked as he shone a penlight torch into Adam’s eyes and checked his pupils.

‘Tuesday.’

‘Do you remember what happened?’

‘I was standing up in the bus when the driver swerved and I went flying, and my knee slammed into the side of one of the seats. It hit that metal bar that made up the seat frame. My brother was on the bus too. Do you know if he’s okay? His name is Bailey.’ Tears welled in Adam’s eyes and Maia could tell he was trying to be brave. She could imagine how she would have felt if she’d been in his situation at the same age.

‘Let’s get you sorted and then we’ll find out about Bailey,’ she told him. She wouldn’t tell him that she was sure Bailey was fine; she couldn’t promise that when she had no idea of the situation. Promising to investigate was the best she could do.

‘All right, Adam, I need to have a look at your knee, but first I want you to tell me about your pain. Can you give it a score out of ten? Where zero is no pain and ten is unbearable.’

‘Maybe a six?’

‘I need to have a feel of your knee but you can hold Maia’s hand if you like and squeeze it tight if your knee gets too sore and you want me to stop. I reckon holding Maia’s hand might help.’ Adam blushed and looked away and Maia almost felt sorry for him until she realised that Henry had started palpating the knee joint and had successfully distracted Adam so that he’d been able to start palpating without Adam even noticing. Obviously he hadn’t struck anything painful yet but as a technique Maia was impressed.

The pain-relieving inhaler was lying where Maia had left it, on the bed. She picked it up and offered it to him. ‘You can use this if you like?’

But Adam shook his head. ‘I’ll be okay,’ he said, still putting on a brave face.

‘Good choice, Adam. I’d choose to hold a pretty nurse’s hand instead too,’ Henry added as he palpated the medial and lateral ligaments and winked at Adam, who grinned. Now it was Maia’s turn to blush but she held out her hand and Adam latched onto it.

As the young boy squeezed her hand, Maia wondered if anyone watching her and Henry would guess they had a history. Henry seemed relaxed; working with her didn’t appear to be throwing him off-kilter. Perhaps it was only her on tenterhooks, only her who still felt the spark of awareness in the air. There was no denying she was still affected by his easy charm.

Henry moved his fingers centrally over the quadriceps tendon and muscle belly. There was marked oedema of this knee compared to the other and Maia watched as Adam grimaced, but he didn’t cry out.

‘Are you a cricketer, Adam?’ Henry asked.

Adam nodded.

‘So, you’d be getting ready to watch the World Cup?’

The World Cup was scheduled to start in India at the end of February. It was only a few days away and New Zealand’s citizens could barely talk about anything else. Maia knew that Henry also loved his cricket. He would slot straight back into the Kiwi culture even if he did barrack for the wrong team.

‘Do you reckon the Black Caps can beat my team—England?’

Henry was having difficulty finding the borders of the knee cap. Adam flinched and his fingers tightened their grip on Maia’s as Henry’s fingers probed his patella but his bravado remained strong as he replied, ‘The Black Caps can beat everyone.’

‘I like your confidence.’ Henry laughed. ‘I’m looking forward to watching some cricket. I’ve been living in America—they’re not into cricket there. See if you can bend this knee for me. I’ll help you.’ Henry had again successfully distracted Adam but his assessment wasn’t over yet. He slipped one hand under Adam’s knee to support it. It was resting in about thirty degrees of flexion and he was able to bend it another thirty degrees before the pain got too much. But Maia knew that flexion of sixty degrees was well off the normal range of one hundred and forty degrees for thin adolescents.

But Henry praised his efforts. ‘Well done, Adam. Now try to straighten it for me.’

Adam tried but he couldn’t do it. His knee got stuck at thirty degrees.

‘Can you lift it off the bed?’

Maia could see from Adam’s expression that he was trying but his quadriceps wasn’t following orders and his leg didn’t budge.

‘These kids are primary school age, yes?’ Henry asked Maia. ‘How old are you, Adam?’ he asked when she nodded.

‘Twelve.’

‘All right. I reckon you might have busted your knee cap; we need to get that X-rayed.’

Maia frowned. Patella fractures weren’t common in children and she wondered why Henry suspected that. He must have seen her doubting expression. ‘I’ve seen a few in this age group, boys more than girls,’ he explained. ‘Once the patella has ossified it’s susceptible to fracture. Can we organise an X-ray? AP and lateral views?’ he asked.

‘Sure. They can bring the mobile X-ray machine in to do that. But we’ll need to get permission first, I suspect. Why don’t you ask Brenda to organise that when you get your next case and I’ll wait with Adam?’ Maia didn’t want to leave the young boy alone. He would be apprehensive, if not scared, and with the added worry of his brother’s whereabouts and potential injuries. ‘And see what you can find out about Bailey,’ she added as Henry pulled the curtain back and stepped out.

She watched him leave the cubicle. His dark hair was neat at the nape of his neck. His back was straight, his shoulders square. He seemed relaxed, unhurried, in control, and Maia knew his calm demeanour was good for the patients.

Henry turned to pull the curtain closed and saw her watching him. He grinned and winked as he tugged the curtain across, cutting off her view.

Maia busied herself checking Adam’s obs again while she waited for the blush that stained her cheeks to fade. She needed something to occupy her mind; she couldn’t afford to fill it with thoughts of Henry.

She heard the curtain move again. The sound of the plastic clips sliding in the rail made her look up. She was hoping to see Henry but it was a lady’s face that appeared.

‘Excuse me,’ the woman said as she ducked around the curtain. ‘Sorry to interrupt—I’m Amelia Cooper, the deputy principal at Canterbury Primary School.’

Maia spotted an identification badge hanging around Amelia’s neck that had her photograph and the school crest printed on it. She hoped she wasn’t a journalist with fake ID. That had happened before, on more than one occasion.

‘Hello, Adam,’ the woman said, and Maia decided she would give her the benefit of the doubt, although she wasn’t sure what she was doing in her cubicle.

‘Is there something I can help you with?’ Maia asked.

‘I need to make sure all the children are accounted for,’ Amelia explained. ‘The school is contacting the parents. Some are already on their way to the hospital, but I was told we might need permission for some treatments. The school has all that information on file.’ She indicated the electronic tablet she held in one hand. ‘It’s all in here.’

She put the tablet down on the end of Adam’s bed and took a thick marker pen from a clipboard which she had been holding in her other hand. ‘I’m also supposed to correctly identify the children,’ she said as she printed Adam’s name onto a sticky label which she peeled off and stuck to his shirt. Some things obviously still had to be done the old-fashioned way, although Maia knew her method of identifying the children was more secure. Adam’s arm would go wherever he went, unlike his shirt, which could easily be removed, taking his ID with it. But she kept quiet. The children could be identified at a glance and another form of ID wasn’t going to create any problems, as long as it was accurate.

‘And I’ll keep a list of their injuries so the parents can check in with me as their initial point of contact. I’ll be the liaison person, according to your ED director that will leave you all free to get on with treating the kids.’

That made sense. Maia filled her in on Adam’s condition and Amelia flipped over the page of sticky labels and jotted a summary on another page of her clipboard.

‘Do you have authority to give permission for Adam to have an X-ray?’ Maia asked.

‘I do,’ she replied. ‘I spoke to Dr Cavanaugh who was in here before and told him.’

‘Okay. Do you have any news about Adam’s brother, Bailey?’

Amelia ran her finger down the list on her clipboard. ‘He’s fine. He’s got some cuts and bruises and he’s waiting for some treatment to clean those up.’

Maia could see Adam relax. ‘That’s good news, isn’t it?’

‘I’ve got more good news, Adam,’ Amelia said. ‘The school has spoken to your mother and she is on her way.’

The radiographer arrived and Maia left him to do his job while she went looking for Bailey.

The waiting room had filled with parents and some of the less seriously injured kids who were still waiting to be treated. Maia scanned the room and spotted a boy who, despite the large dressing that was bandaged to the top of his head, looked similar enough to Adam that she walked closer to check the sticker on his shirt. It read, ‘Bailey Evans’.

Maia sought out the ED Director next. She was standing at the whiteboard behind the triage desk, updating the list. ‘Brenda, have you got anyone urgent for me or can I take Bailey Evans?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got his brother having X-rays taken and I think they’d like to be together while they wait for their mother.’

Brenda scanned the board quickly before she nodded. ‘Sure,’ she said as she added a note on the board beside Bailey’s name. ‘According to the ambos he’s got a head laceration that might need stitching. Your call, once you’ve cleaned him up.’

Maia introduced herself to Bailey as she pushed his wheelchair into the cubicle beside Adam’s. They could talk to each other through the curtain while she cleaned Bailey’s cuts—she didn’t think Adam needed to watch that—but once they were both taken care of she could pull back the curtain and they could wait together.

Maia gently lifted the dressing on Bailey’s head. It was soaked in blood from a nasty cut that ran along his hairline. The paramedics had been right; the gash would probably need a few stitches. She re-covered the wound with fresh padding and called for a doctor. The wound would need to be cleaned but she knew the doctor would administer a local anaesthetic and she preferred to wait for that before she started cleaning. She would make a start on his other more straightforward injuries while she waited. She could see several cuts on his hands and knees as well as on his face and head.

‘How did you get all of these cuts?’ she asked him.

‘Some of the windows in the bus exploded when the bus rolled over.’

‘The bus rolled over?’ Maia hadn’t been aware of that part.

Bailey nodded his head.

‘The bus driver swerved so hard to miss the landslide that the bus crashed through the rail on the side of the road and rolled down the hill.’ Adam’s voice came through the curtain, explaining the sequence of events.

‘You didn’t tell me that part before, Adam.’

‘That wasn’t the bit where I hurt my knee,’ he said matter-of-factly.

‘The window next to me smashed,’ Bailey added. ‘And then some of us had to break the emergency window and crawl out that way. That’s how I cut my hands and knees.’

Maia picked fragments of glass out of his wounds, disinfected them and bandaged them before she tackled his face and head. She cleaned the cuts and scratches on his face before she carefully unwrapped the dressing on his head.

The curtain rustled on its tracking, flicking open to admit Henry. ‘This is Bailey, Adam’s brother,’ Maia told him. ‘He’s got a laceration on his head that needs cleaning and suturing.’

She removed the dressing again for Henry to take a look. He nodded, agreeing with her assessment.

Maia handed him the local anaesthetic, pre-empting his request, and then prepared a suture kit while they waited for the anaesthetic to kick in. They worked smoothly together, their moves practised as Henry chatted to Bailey about cricket and rugby. Maia loved rugby but didn’t really understand the attraction of cricket and she wasn’t interested in listening to them discuss their favourite teams and players. She was busy thinking about other things. She was standing beside Henry’s right shoulder, snipping the thread each time he finished a stitch. She didn’t need to focus; her mind was free to wander and she let it drift as she watched his fingers pinch and move as he deftly sewed up Bailey’s head wound.

He looked like he was conducting a mini-orchestra. His hands moved to their own silent beat. His fingers were long and slender, his forearms were strong. He was wearing a short-sleeved surgical top, a dark blue one that made his eyes look even darker than usual, and his olive skin was lightly tanned, even though he’d just returned from a Northern Hemisphere winter. She wondered what colour the skin under his clothes was.

That was a dangerous direction for her thoughts to take. She quickly tried to think about something else. She breathed deeply as she tried to refocus her mind. But all that happened was she breathed in Henry. She was standing so close to him that all she could smell was the scent of clean laundry and that citrus-and-cedar aftershave, and every breath she took filled her senses.

‘Henry?’

Brenda stuck her head around the curtain and Maia jumped. She felt a guilty flush steal across her cheeks even though she was guilty of nothing more than wayward thoughts. But Brenda’s appearance was enough to break the spell. Maia took a small step back, putting a little bit of distance between Henry and her.

‘Adam’s X-rays are back.’

‘Okay. Can you put the dressing on?’ Henry asked as Maia cut the final thread. ‘I’ll follow up on Adam.’

Henry swapped cubicles and Maia breathed out. She hadn’t realised that she’d been holding her breath but it must have been protective tendencies. If she couldn’t smell Henry, she could think. It was good that he was gone. She needed a bit of distance. Despite telling herself that Henry’s return didn’t matter and that it wasn’t going to affect her, she knew that was a lie. She hoped he’d spend a lot of time in Theatre and on the wards—anywhere away from Emergency. She didn’t know how she could be expected to function normally if she had to work closely with him.

She put a new dressing on Bailey’s head and pulled the curtain back so the boys could see each other. Henry had his back to her as he studied Adam’s X-rays. He held them up to the light and Maia was about to leave him to it when she heard Carrie’s voice on the other side of the curtain, and another stranger came into the cubicle. Another woman. But this time Maia knew immediately who she was. The boys’ mother. It wasn’t that she looked particularly like them but Maia could tell by the way she rushed in and ignored the adults in the room completely as she sought out her children. Maia might as well have been invisible. The woman hesitated for just a fraction as if trying to choose which of her sons to hug first but chose Bailey. He was closer.

Henry turned around at the sound of a new voice and Maia noted the woman’s double-take when she saw Henry. As concerned as she was for her children, part of her, possibly just her female hormones, still couldn’t help reacting to Henry. It seemed he wasn’t quite as invisible as Maia was. Not that Maia could blame her. There weren’t many people, men or women, who were immune to Henry’s looks. He was a strikingly handsome man. Maia’s glance went instinctively to the woman’s left hand to see if she was single. Not that it was any of her business. She tried not to care but she didn’t want other people noticing Henry. Although she knew that was impossible.

‘Mrs Evans?’ Henry queried as the woman kissed Bailey and then moved over to hug Adam. ‘I’m Dr Henry Cavanaugh,’ he went on when she nodded. ‘I’m an emergency specialist at the hospital and Maia and I have been treating your sons. They are both fine. They’ve sustained relatively minor injuries but, all things considered, they’ve been very lucky. Bailey has a few small cuts that have been cleaned and dressed but he also had one larger gash on his head which required ten stitches—just here.’ Henry touched his own head just at his hairline. ‘He’ll need to get those out in a week. Your GP might be happy to do it or you can bring him in here.

‘Adam has a fractured knee cap,’ Henry continued as he slid one of the X-rays into the light box on the wall. This X-ray showed a lateral view and Maia could see the dark line indicating the break running across the middle of Adam’s patella. Henry traced his finger over the line. His fingers were slender and capable, his hands smooth and hairless. Maia forced her attention back to the matter at hand and listened as Henry told Mrs Evans what had happened. She needed to pay attention; she would need to write discharge summaries for the boys.

‘It’s not serious. A transverse fracture of the patella is not particularly common but it matches with Adam’s age and the injury history. The physio will be along shortly to fit him with a splint and we’ll make an appointment with an orthopod to review his progress in two weeks. He should expect to stay in the splint for four weeks and then he will need physiotherapy. You can take the boys home as soon as the physio has taught him how to use crutches.’

‘Adam gets crutches?’ Bailey sulked.

The boys’ mother laughed. ‘Now I know you’re okay,’ she said.

Henry high-fived both of the boys. ‘Maia, can you ring Outpatients and set up a review for Adam in a fortnight?’

Maia nodded. They had worked well together. No awkwardness. There had been no time to worry about anything other than their patients. She was right—Henry being back wasn’t going to affect her.

Henry scrubbed his hands as he prepared to go into Theatre, taking a few moments to collect his thoughts. He hadn’t had a moment of solitude since he’d bumped into Maia earlier today. If he hadn’t been working solidly with her all morning, he could almost have believed he was dreaming. They’d been treating their young patients nonstop for hours, and his day wasn’t over yet, but he needed just a little time to think.

He hadn’t been completely honest with Maia about his reasons for coming back to Christchurch. He’d been offered a grant, that much was true, but he’d been offered several and he’d accepted Christchurch partly because of her. He hadn’t come back for her but because of her. He had actually been happy here and he had Maia to thank for that. It had been many years since he’d felt truly happy, before Christchurch or since.

Six years ago his world had collapsed and as he’d recovered he’d made a decision. He would save the world, one disaster at a time, and if he couldn’t save the world then he would at least try to make a difference to one family at a time. That had put him on the path to emergency medicine and disaster management. He knew exactly how devastating losing loved ones unexpectedly in traumatic circumstances was and, if he could make a horrible, tragic situation better, then that was what he wanted to do. If it kept him busy day and night, that was a good thing. He had no desire to have a life of his own. His family didn’t get that now—why should he?

He’d been rudderless, almost homeless, for six years now. He hadn’t wanted to stay in one place; he knew that being settled without any family around would make him feel even more alone. Family couldn’t be replaced. Not even by another family. The risk was too great—something might happen to them too.

He’d decided it was better to remain alone, even if it meant being lonely, rather than risk his heart on love.

And then he had met Maia and he’d been tempted to change his mind. But he hadn’t been able to ask her to commit to a life of uncertainty with him when he hadn’t even been sure if he wanted that commitment. Yet he hadn’t been able to resist returning and so he was back in Christchurch. This city held some of his few cheerful memories, without any lurking ghosts, and he was sorely in need of some happiness.

CHAPTER THREE

MAIA LOOSENED HER hair from the bun she’d worn it in all day and let it fall down her back in thick, dark waves as she and Carrie strolled along the banks of the Avon River towards the Stratford-on-Avon. The pub’s picturesque waterside setting, proximity to the hospital and well-timed happy hour all combined to make it a popular watering hole for the staff of the Children’s Hospital.

‘Can you stay for a feed tonight?’ Carrie asked as they pushed open the door and entered the pub.

Maia shook her head. ‘I’m singing tonight. The band has a gig at the Cathedral Square Hotel,’ she said as they ordered two bottles of cider.

Maia loved to sing. If she’d been good enough to make a living out of it, she would have tried, but her father had convinced her to have a career as well and she’d discovered nursing, which she loved just as much. But she sang as often as she could with a jazz band.

The girls took their drinks out onto the deck that overlooked the Avon River. Willow trees lined the bank, their sweeping branches dipping into the calm waters. It was a pleasant spot on a summer’s afternoon. They could watch the occasional punt taking tourists along the river or the university rowing crews on their afternoon trainings.

Today it was a rowing four that glided past as Maia asked, ‘Are you still okay to come to the dressmaker with me next week?’

‘Are you finally going to pick out the dresses?’

‘No.’ Maia laughed and sipped her cider. ‘I’m hoping you’ll do that.’ Carrie was Maia’s maid of honour and along with Maia’s three younger sisters would form the bridal party. The wedding was only six weeks away. Maia needed to stop procrastinating and make some decisions. Todd had done most of the preparation work. Maia had given her opinion but she wasn’t the one driving this.

‘I’m surprised he hasn’t given up on you,’ Carrie said. ‘You’ve made him wait for almost two years.’

‘Maybe he thinks I’m worth it.’ She grinned.

‘I’m sure he does. But what do you think? Is he worth it?’

‘He’s a great guy, anybody would be lucky to have him. I’m lucky to have him,’ she said but even she could hear the uncertain tone of her voice.

‘You don’t need to convince me,’ Carrie replied.

Maia didn’t answer; her mind was wandering, off on its own little tangent. They’d been engaged for eighteen months, since just before her dad had died. Was she lucky Todd was so patient or had she been secretly hoping that he’d get tired of waiting for her? Maia looked down the river as she pondered the question. The water was flat and green. A light breeze stirred the willow trees, making their leaves brush over the water. A rowing eight glided past, young, fit men wearing university colours disturbing the surface of the river as she stared off into the distance.

‘My dad loved Todd. He became like the son he’d never had. He gave us his blessing before he died and you know how important that is to me,’ she said, answering her own question. ‘Family was everything to Dad.’

‘I know that but are you sure you’re marrying him because you want to, not just because your dad approved? Are you sure it’s the right thing for you? Are you ready?’

She knew what Carrie was asking. She and Carrie had been friends for ever. They’d been friends before Maia’s dad had got sick, before Maia had met Todd, before everything. They’d been friends before boyfriends, even, and Carrie had been there every step of the way. She knew which boys had been important, which one Maia had loved and which one had left her heartbroken.

Carrie knew her history with Henry. She knew that Henry had broken her heart—unintentionally, but it had been broken all the same. It had taken a long time for the cracks to heal and Maia knew they could easily be prised apart. But, despite heartache, life went on. Todd had filled a gap for her and somewhere along the way he’d helped her look to the future. A future that was different from what she had dreamed of and hoped for in some ways, but getting married was Maia’s choice. She knew she’d been influenced by her father’s thoughts and feelings, and by circumstances, but it didn’t necessarily mean it was the wrong thing for her.