Nurse In Need

Amy sighed. This wasn’t going the way she’d planned it at all. ‘Don’t start on Nigel,’ she begged. ‘He’s not that bad. He really wants you to come.’

‘Oh, sure.’ Jennifer’s expression was now openly sceptical. You’re talking about the man who told me, only yesterday, that if my neurons could get close enough to hold hands occasionally then I would have had those scan results available before he had to disrupt his precious schedule to come down to Emergency.’

Amy’s glance slid sideways. ‘OK, so he can be a bit sarcastic sometimes. Major trauma cases can be stressful, as you well know.’

‘He hadn’t even got anywhere near the patient,’ Jennifer countered. Her expression softened. ‘I admit he probably has his good points. He can be very charming when he wants to be.’ It was Jennifer’s turn to sigh. ‘I just can’t pretend to like him, Amy. There’s something about him that I don’t trust, and it’s more than the fact that his eyes are far too close together. I still don’t understand why you started going out with him in the first place.’

‘He asked me,’ Amy said simply. ‘Anyway, that’s months ago, now. It’s ancient history.’

‘Like Nigel.’

‘He’s only forty-two,’ Amy said impatiently. ‘And he’s a very talented surgeon. You don’t have to like him, Jen. Just come to the party. For me.’

‘No way.’ Jenny pulled back the curtain. Resus 1 was ready to go again. ‘Catch you later, Amy. Looks like there’s some work to be done out here.’

A new stretcher was coming through the automatic double doors from the ambulance bay. The bed arriving from the other end of the corridor that led into the hospital was returning Mrs Benny to the emergency department. Amy caught up with her patient.

‘That was nice and quick. How are you feeling, Mrs Benny?’

‘Dreadful. They moved my leg and the pain is ever so much worse.’

‘Is is?’ Amy helped the orderly position the bed back in cubicle 4. ‘I’ll get one of the doctors to come and organise some more pain relief for you.’

Amy’s route to notify one of the registrars of Mrs Benny’s need for more analgesia took her past Jennifer, who was helping a woman towards the toilet. The smile that the two nurses exchanged was fleeting but it was enough to reassure Amy that Jennifer was not really bothered by her persistent efforts over the last week directed at getting her to accept the party invitation.

The difference of opinion concerning Amy’s dating of orthopaedic surgeon Nigel Wesley hadn’t been enough to seriously compromise their friendship. Yet. Amy’s spirits sank a little further. That was something that could well change after tonight, and Amy dreaded that possibility. Somehow she had to warn Jennifer of developments and ensure that their friendship wasn’t going to suffer irreparably. Persuading her to attend the party and then making sure she enjoyed herself was the only plan Amy had, so far, been able to concoct.

Perhaps she should just come straight out with it and tell Jennifer the truth. If she was really confident that she was doing the right thing, then it shouldn’t be a problem, but confidence was an emotion that Amy generally associated only with her professional abilities. Anything else was too risky to be confident about, but this was a risk she was happy enough to take. It was the right thing to do. It had to be. Time was running out in more ways than one.

Maybe the doubts that were troubling her were due to the sneaking suspicion that a friendship might have to be sacrificed. Not just any friendship either. The one and only really close relationship that Amy had ever had with another person. Nobody else had ever come close. Not her school friends and definitely not her parents. Not even Nigel. Maybe especially Nigel. Jen was the one person in the world who loved Amy for who she really was. Jen made her feel good about herself and had always supported her wholeheartedly. Well, almost always. At least until Nigel Wesley had surprisingly shown an interest in Senior Nurse Amy Brooks.

Gladys Benny was transferred to a ward half an hour later. Due to her patient’s reluctance to let go of her hand, Amy accompanied the bed as far as the lift. It was on her return that she spotted the man for the third time. He was now in the emergency observation area—a mini-ward, adjacent to Emergency, that could hold non-urgent patients for up to twenty-four hours until a decision was made regarding their need for admission. Amy didn’t give him the chance to look in her direction this time. She sped on and didn’t stop until she found Jennifer. She followed her friend into the sluice room.

‘Who is that man in the leather jacket?’ Amy demanded. ‘He’s been hanging around Emergency all day.’

‘So have I,’ Jennifer groaned. She dropped the container she was carrying into the infectious waste disposal unit and stripped off her gloves. ‘My feet hurt.’ She gave Amy a concerned glance. ‘How’s your leg?’

‘Fine.’ Amy wasn’t going to be distracted. ‘You must have noticed him,’ she persisted.

‘Why? Is he cute?’

‘I suppose,’ Amy admitted grudgingly. ‘He’s tall with straight black hair. Kind of spiky.’ She eyed Jennifer’s tufts of short blonde hair. ‘A bit like yours, only longer.’

‘I like him already,’ Jennifer declared. ‘Who’s he in here to see?’

‘That’s what I was trying to find out.’ Amy shook her head. ‘He looks too happy to be a relative.’

‘If he looks happy, he can’t be a staff member either.’ Jennifer grinned.

‘I’m not sure about that. Noel Fenton was introducing him to Gareth a while ago.’

‘What?’ Jennifer’s jaw slackened. ‘You mean Noel Fenton was here and I didn’t notice?’ Her face screwed itself into total dismay. ‘Damn it! That probably means he didn’t notice me either.’

Amy looked suddenly thoughtful. ‘Noel is Nigel’s registrar.’

‘I know that.’ Jennifer leaned back against the wall, clearly grateful for a short respite. ‘Just because Noel is indescribably gorgeous doesn’t make Nigel suitable, however. You could do so much better for yourself, Amy.’

‘I haven’t so far.’ Amy lost her train of thought regarding Noel Fenton. ‘I’m nearly thirty, Jen.’

‘So? You’re gorgeous. Far too good for Mr Wesley.’ She nudged Amy. ‘You might have hazel eyes instead of blue but, as Patrick says, you’re an angel, to be sure.’

Amy laughed. ‘If I’m so terrific, how come all my romances have been such dismal failures?’ she countered.

‘You just haven’t found the right man.’

Amy took a deep breath. ‘Maybe I have now.’

‘Ha!’ Jennifer shook her head vigorously. ‘For God’s sake, Amy. Nigel Wesley still lives with his mother!’

‘It’s a huge house. She has a completely self-contained wing. They lead totally separate lives.’

Jennifer eyed her dubiously.

‘The house is awesome, Jen. You really should come and see it. There’s an indoor swimming pool and a conservatory. Six bedrooms and all of them have en suite bathrooms.’

‘You sound like a real estate agent.’

‘The garden’s well worth seeing. It got photographed for House and Garden last year.’

‘It’ll be dark.’

‘It’s floodlit,’ Amy told her enthusiastically. ‘And the kitchen’s amazing. All stainless steel and very high tech.’

‘Sounds like an operating theatre.’ Jennifer giggled. ‘Does the food come out on a tray covered with a sterile drape?’

‘There’s a breakfast room that leads into the conservatory. It has cane furniture and lots of bright cushions. It’s really rather nice.’

‘You sound like you’re planning to move in.’

Amy’s hesitation was just long enough for Jennifer’s eyes to widen in a horrified expression. ‘This party that you’re so keen to drag me along to tonight. You’re not…’ Jennifer swallowed deliberately. ‘It’s not for some special announcement, is it?’

‘Please, come, Jen.’ Amy bit her lip. ‘I need you there. I need someone on my side.’

‘If it feels like a battle then it’s not right. Don’t do it, Amy.’

‘I’m not talking about Nigel. It’s the rest of them I’m not so sure of. And I don’t think his mother really likes me.’ Desperation planted a last ray of hope for Amy as she remembered her earlier inspiration. ‘Hey, Jen? What if I got Nigel to invite Noel Fenton to the party?’

‘He’d probably bring his wife.’

‘I don’t think he’s married. In fact, I’m sure he isn’t. You could wear something gorgeous and he’d have to notice you. You’d stand out a mile amongst all those consultants’ wives.’ Amy had noticed the gleam of interest her friend was trying to disguise. ‘I can see it now,’ she said cunningly. ‘There they all are. Middle-aged and dressed in sophisticated but terribly boring black evening dresses. And there you are—wearing something—’

‘Black,’ Jennifer supplied. She grinned at Amy’s frown. ‘But black with a difference.’ She straightened and headed for the door. ‘I like it,’ she announced. ‘I think I will come to your party after all.’

Amy breathed an inward sigh of relief. A bit of moral support was all she needed to make the evening perfect.

‘You know…’ Jennifer had paused in the sluice room doorway to glance back at Amy. ‘I think tonight might just be a turning point in life.’

Amy nodded happily. ‘For both of us.’ She was still smiling as Jennifer disappeared. It was certainly going to be the turning point of her own life.

Amy Brooks had no doubt at all about that.

CHAPTER TWO

THE nudge from Jennifer Bowman’s elbow was none too gentle.

‘What is that, might I ask?’

Amy’s smile was embarrassed. ‘It’s a string quartet,’ she admitted.

‘And where is it?’

‘In the conservatory.’

‘And where is Noel?’ Jennifer asked pointedly.

‘I’m not sure.’ Amy cast a hopeful glance at the new faces appearing in the crowded drawing room. ‘He’ll be here very soon, I expect.’

‘He’d better be,’ Jennifer muttered darkly. She, too, glanced at the gathering of people. ‘This is even worse than I expected. Look—half of them are drinking sherry.’

‘I see you found the champagne, though.’

‘Of course. Where’s yours?’

‘I finished it already.’ Amy bit her lip. ‘I think I was a bit nervous.’

‘So? Have another one.’ Jennifer signalled a waiter who arrived at her side bearing a tray of crystal flutes, the pale gold liquid they contained fizzing discreetly. Jen winked at Amy. ‘I could get used to this. I’m even beginning to understand the attraction of Nigel Wesley.’

‘Shh. You promised you wouldn’t say anything.’ Amy took a sip from her glass. ‘I’m supposed to be in the foyer with Nigel, greeting the new arrivals. He’ll be wondering why I’m taking so long in the bathroom.’

‘Let him wonder,’ Jennifer advised. ‘Every woman needs a mystery or two.’

‘Where did you disappear to when I was in the bathroom?’

‘I was checking out the conservatory.’ Jennifer waved vaguely behind her then grinned at Amy. ‘You’ll never believe this, but I met a vampire.’

‘Oh, sure.’ Amy took another sip of champagne. Thank goodness Jen had agreed to come to this party. She could almost pretend she was enjoying herself despite the fact that they were being largely ignored by the people around them.

‘I’m not kidding. There was this tall, tall woman with dead white skin and jet black hair, all scraped back into a net thing. She had blood red lips and matching nails.’

Amy couldn’t stifle her smile. ‘I think you just met Lorraine.’

‘Who’s Lorraine?’

‘Nigel’s mother.’

‘No!’ Jen breathed. ‘How old is she?’

‘I don’t know. Must be in her sixties, I guess.’

Jen looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe scraping your hair back tightly enough has the same effect as a face lift. She doesn’t look that old.’ Jennifer leaned closer to Amy. ‘Then again,’ she whispered, ‘being unable to go out in daylight might work quite well, too.’

Amy giggled with genuine amusement but the pleasure died swiftly as the subject of their conversation appeared beside her.

‘I’m delighted to see you enjoying yourself, Amy.’ Lorraine Wesley didn’t look particularly delighted. Her gaze swept over Jennifer briefly with an ill-concealed flicker of distaste. Amy’s hackles rose. Jennifer might have overdone things just a little, with her black mini-skirt, tight-fitting top and the number of earrings she had chosen to wear, but she looked stunning in Amy’s opinion. She had always envied her friend’s figure.

Maybe Lorraine Wesley was envious as well. The elegant black sheath dress her prospective mother-in-law was wearing revealed a body lacking any feminine curves. Lorraine’s sharp glance landed on Amy again.

‘Shouldn’t you be with Nigel at the moment?’

‘I’m on my way, Mrs Wesley,’ Amy said quickly. ‘Have you met my friend, Jennifer?’

‘Ah!’ Lorraine Wesley made it sound as though a mystery had been finally solved. She nodded with deliberate graciousness at Jennifer.

‘Jen’s my flatmate,’ Amy said defensively. ‘It’s thanks to her I had something to wear tonight. She lent me her ballgown.’ She smoothed a nervous hand over the full skirt of the floor-length, midnight blue gown.

‘Ah!’ Lorraine repeated meaningfully. ‘No wonder the bodice looks a little big for you, my dear.’ Sculptured eyebrows creased a fraction. ‘What have you got on your feet?’

Amy didn’t dare look at Jen’s expression. She took a long swallow of her champagne before poking her foot further out from the folds of the dress. ‘What’s wrong with my shoes?’

‘Nothing at all, dear,’ Lorraine assured her. ‘Except they’re flat. One should never wear flat shoes with evening dress.’ Lorraine Wesley laughed tolerantly. ‘In fact, one should probably avoid wearing flat shoes at any time.’ The older woman was turning away as she spoke. ‘Ah, Rodney! How fabulous to see you again.’

‘I should have told her I have flat feet,’ Amy muttered rebelliously. ‘And I need the shoes to match.’

Jennifer was looking unusually serious. ‘Doesn’t she know why you wear flat shoes?’

‘Of course not.’ Amy looked uncomfortable. ‘I’d better go and find Nigel. Excuse me.’

‘No, you don’t.’ Jennifer was following her. ‘I want to know something, Amy Brooks.’

‘What?’ Amy stopped near the string quartet. The music covered their voices.

‘Has Nigel ever tried to take you dancing on one of these weekly dates you’ve been having?’

‘No. We usually have dinner or go to a concert or movie. Or both. You know that.’

‘Has he ever seen you in a short skirt?’

‘Do I ever wear short skirts?’ Amy countered.

‘Exactly.’ Jennifer lowered her voice. ‘Have you slept with Nigel Wesley, Amy?’

‘Jen!’ Amy looked quickly over her shoulder.

‘Have you?’ Jen persisted.

‘Not exactly,’ Amy admitted reluctantly.

Jennifer sighed with exasperation. ‘Amy, how could you even think of marrying a man who doesn’t even know about something that significant in your life?’

‘He knows about my leg,’ Amy muttered. ‘He just hasn’t seen it. It’s not that significant, anyway. Or it shouldn’t be.’

‘But it is,’ Jennifer contradicted. ‘You know it is, Amy. It was the reason you broke up with what’s-his-name—that chap you were almost engaged to before you moved to Christchurch.’ Jennifer sounded desperate. ‘Amy, you can’t marry Nigel Wesley.’

‘Yes, I can,’ Amy said quietly. ‘It’s my choice. He asked me and I said yes.’

‘But why?’ Jennifer wailed softly.

‘Because I want a family,’ Amy said sincerely. ‘I want children. So does Nigel. He’ll be a good father. He takes his responsibilities very seriously.’

‘That’s not enough,’ Jen told her.

‘He loves me,’ Amy said firmly. ‘And I love him.’

‘Do you?’ Jennifer’s mouth twisted doubtfully. ‘Do you really love him?’

‘I think so,’ Amy replied. ‘Who really knows for sure?’

‘I would,’ Jennifer said with conviction. ‘And so should you. This isn’t good enough.’

‘It’s all that’s on offer.’ Amy drained her glass and set it down on a side table. ‘And I’m not going to lose the only chance I might ever get.’ She could see Nigel approaching. So could Jen.

‘He looks just like his mother,’ Jennifer observed casually. ‘Except she hasn’t got the beard…yet.’

Amy had to smile, she couldn’t help herself. Nigel was tall, slim and dark like his mother. His hair was swept back to sit neatly on his head. Everything about Nigel was neat. His black dinner suit fitted perfectly. The bow tie sat perfectly straight. His beard and moustache were trimmed with military precision. The impression of intolerance to anything stepping out of line was undermined only by the charming smile he directed at Amy.

‘I thought I’d lost you, darling,’ he said. ‘Come on. There’s someone I really want to introduce you to. Stuart Latimer is visiting from London.’ He linked Amy’s arm through his, gave Jennifer an apologetic inclination of his head and pulled Amy away. ‘You haven’t got a drink yet,’ he observed in surprise. ‘Let me find you a glass of champagne.’

Stuart Latimer was a large man, currently in conversation with Lorraine Wesley. He was clearly very impressed by the canapés being offered. One hand was covered by a serviette on which several small savouries nestled.

‘Delicious,’ he explained to Amy after they had been introduced. ‘Never tasted anything so good.’

‘They’re not too bad, are they?’ Lorraine looked satisfied. ‘I expect we’ll use these caterers for the wedding.’

‘When’s that going to be?’ Stuart enquired. He winked at Amy. ‘You’re a lucky girl, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, I’m the lucky one, Stuart,’ Nigel put in quickly. He slid an arm around Amy’s waist, which reminded her of her encounter with Patrick Moore earlier that day. She took a gulp of champagne.

‘October, we thought.’ Lorraine was eager to respond to Stuart’s question. ‘In a month or so.’

‘Did we?’ Amy was startled.

‘In the garden,’ Lorraine added.

‘Really?’ Amy twisted to look at Nigel. ‘I don’t remember discussing this.’

Nigel and Lorraine exchanged a glance. ‘We’re getting ahead of ourselves,’ Lorraine apologised. ‘After all, we haven’t even announced the engagement.’

‘Any chance of some more nibbles?’

‘Of course, Stuart.’ Lorraine looked relieved. ‘Come with me and we’ll find someone to look after you.’

Nigel steered Amy towards another knot of people. ‘I haven’t told you how gorgeous you’re looking tonight. Just perfect. You must wear your hair loose like that more often.’

‘I’ve got flat shoes,’ Amy confessed.

‘Of course you do. High heels wouldn’t be very practical for you, would they?’

‘Your mother thinks flat shoes should never be worn.’

Nigel smiled. ‘Don’t listen to my mother.’ He bent his head close to Amy’s. ‘She can be a bit overbearing at times.’ Nigel’s breath tickled Amy’s ear. ‘We’ll make our own decisions, Amy. You and me.’

Amy took a relieved swallow of her drink. She had nothing to worry about. Nigel could handle his mother. They would choose their own wedding arrangements. She would get married in a church, just to go against Lorraine’s wishes. They would have it catered by a restaurant. And Amy would wear completely flat shoes. Amy smiled brilliantly at Nigel before turning to the man beside him.

‘You know Murray Brownlie, don’t you, Amy?’

‘Yes.’ Amy’s smile was now shy. She had seen the eminent head of general surgery on many occasions but never on a social basis. Amy listened to the rest of the introductions and then caught the surgeon’s eye.

‘Did you operate on Daniel Lever earlier today?’

‘The young man whose car had the argument with a truck?’ Murray Brownlie nodded. ‘Indeed I did. He was lucky to survive.’

‘I hear he needed a splenectomy,’ Amy said. ‘Was that the main source of the abdominal bleeding?’

‘Hard to say whether the spleen or the liver was winning in the blood loss stakes. We ran through twelve units of whole blood before we had things finally sorted. We used autologous blood as well.’

‘That’s where you collect the patient’s own blood and give it back to them, isn’t it?’ Amy asked with interest.

The surgeon nodded. ‘You aspirate clean blood from the abdomen, anticoagulate it and return it to the patient via an IV cannula with a “cell saver” system.’

‘I’ve never seen it used,’ Amy confessed. ‘Daniel must have had some massive bleeding going on.’

‘One of the biggest liver lacerations I’ve tackled in quite a while, actually.’ Murray Brownlie glanced over his shoulder and then gave Amy the ghost of a wink as he lowered his voice. ‘My wife hates me talking shop,’ he told her. ‘Whereas I simply can’t resist.’ He smiled broadly. ‘Anyway, we sutured and ligated all the bleeding points we could find on young Daniel’s liver and then drained it all, but we still couldn’t get control. It was rather frustrating.’

‘What did you do?’ Amy was listening avidly.

‘Well, we achieved temporary control by clamping the free edge of the lesser omentum.’ Murray eyed Amy cautiously. ‘Does that mean anything to you?’

Amy nodded. ‘The omentum is a fold of the peritoneum that extends from the stomach to adjacent abdominal organs. The lesser omentum connects to the liver.’

The surgeon looked impressed. ‘Precisely. We considered putting in an omental pack and suturing it in place, but it wasn’t going to work so we ended up doing a hepatic lobectomy. Took quite a chunk of the lad’s liver out but it’s an amazing organ. Young Daniel should be functioning again quite normally in no time.’ Murray Brownlie smiled at Amy kindly. ‘This really does interest you, doesn’t it?’

Amy nodded. ‘I love everything about my job. I only wish I could follow the patients up more sometimes.’

‘Feel free to come and observe in Theatre any time,’ the surgeon invited. ‘Or come and visit the wards on your days off.’

‘Oh, I’d love to do that,’ Amy said. ‘Thank you.’ She smiled excitedly at Nigel who had just finished his own conversation. Amy was keenly aware of a feeling of gratitude towards Nigel as well as the head of general surgery. Nigel’s respected position at the hospital was opening all sorts of doors for her. It was rather a heady sensation, being taken seriously by someone like Murray Brownlie.

Murray turned to Nigel. ‘If this young lady is half as keen on you as she is on her job, then you’re a lucky man.’

‘I am lucky,’ Nigel agreed, smiling. ‘But I don’t think I need to compete with a job, do I, Amy?’

‘Of course not,’ Amy said obligingly. She didn’t quite follow Nigel’s meaning but dismissed the puzzle in favour of sipping her drink. A waiter appeared with a magnum wrapped in a snowy white linen cloth. He topped up her glass as an elegant woman joined them.

‘Have you met my wife, Nigel?’ Murray enquired. ‘This is Helen.’

‘Hello Nigel.’ Helen smiled. ‘I do hope my husband’s not being a bore and talking shop. This is a stunning party.’

‘Thanks.’ Nigel allowed Helen to kiss him on both cheeks.

‘I’ve just heard about Sydney. Congratulations.’

‘Thanks,’ Nigel said again. He touched Amy’s arm. ‘I must introduce you to some more people.’ He excused them from the Brownlies’ group.

‘What’s happening in Sydney?’ Amy asked.

‘Chair of Orthopaedic Surgery,’ Nigel said proudly. ‘It’s just been announced.’ He smiled at Amy. ‘They chose me.’

‘I didn’t know you’d applied.’ Amy stopped, feeling suddenly bewildered.

‘I didn’t want to disappoint you if I missed out.’ Amy shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. ‘Are you planning to live in Sydney?’

‘Of course. It’s fantastic, isn’t it? I was intending to surprise you with the news later.’

‘Oh.’ Amy felt a wave of dizziness. ‘I’m surprised, Nigel.’

‘You don’t look very excited.’

‘Where am I supposed to live, Nigel? While you’re living in Sydney?’

Nigel’s smile was contrite. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Amy. You didn’t think I was planning to leave you behind, did you? I have no intention of going until after the wedding, don’t worry. We won’t have to be separated for any length of time.’