Reawakened by the Surgeon's Touch (4 page)

CHAPTER THREE

‘W
E
'
LL
HAVE
TO
use the triage bay. Resus is full.'

Claire guided the trolley past the queue of people waiting to be seen and elbowed open the door to the triage room. Myrtle, one of the cleaning staff, had just finished mopping the floor and Claire smiled at her. ‘Thanks, Myrtle. Can you see if Dr Arnold is anywhere about? We could use his help in here if he's free.'

‘I will go and find him for you, Sister.'

Myrtle left the room at her usual sedate pace. None of the local staff ever hurried and they seemed to find it highly amusing when they saw the foreign doctors and nurses rushing around. Claire had found their attitude frustrating when she had first arrived in the country, but she had grown used to it by now. She didn't turn a hair when Benjamin, the porter, took his time positioning the trolley beside the bed although she could tell that Dr Slater was impatient to get on with the job.

‘On my count,' she said quietly, determined not to let him know how unsettled she felt by his presence. She grasped hold of a piece of the blanket then checked that he and Benjamin had hold as well. ‘One. Two. Three.'

They transferred the injured driver onto the bed and then Bill Arnold arrived.

‘You were supposed to be fetching us back a new surgeon not another patient,' he grumbled as he came into the room.

‘Stop complaining,' Claire retorted, well used to the middle-aged Yorkshireman's dry sense of humour. ‘I could have left the surgeon and just brought you the patient!'

‘In other words, count my blessings, eh?' Bill laughed as he came over to the bed and held out his hand. ‘Bill Arnold. Nice to have you on board, Dr Slater. What have we got here?'

The two men shook hands before Jude briefly outlined the man's injuries. ‘He'll need a CT scan for starters,' he concluded. ‘Once I have a better idea what I'm dealing with, I'll want an MRI scan doing as well to check the full extent of soft tissue damage...'

‘Whoa! Steady on.'

Bill held up his hand and Jude immediately stopped speaking, although Claire could tell that he wasn't pleased about being interrupted. He was probably more used to people hanging on to his every word, she thought cynically as she began to remove the patient's clothes. Some surgeons seemed to think they ranked second only to God in the pecking order and if that were the case, Jude was in for a nasty shock. The surgeons on the team were treated exactly the same as everyone else, i.e. they were expected to knuckle down and get the job done without a fanfare.

‘Is there a problem, Dr Arnold?' Jude asked coolly.

‘It's Bill. I dispensed with the formalities a couple of years ago when I retired,' the older man told him. ‘And yes, I'm afraid there could be a problem in so far as we don't have access to the equipment you mentioned.'

‘What do you mean that you don't have access to it?' Jude demanded. ‘Is the radiographer not on duty today?'

‘Oh, the radiographer's here all right,' Bill explained easily. ‘The problem is the equipment. We don't have a CT scanner or a Magnetic Resonance Imager in the hospital.'

‘You don't
have
them,' Jude repeated, looking so stunned by the news that Claire almost felt sorry for him. Obviously it had come as a shock to him to learn that the hospital wasn't equipped with all the usual technology, but had he
really
expected that it would have been? Deliberately, she whipped up her indignation, not wanting to fall into the trap of sympathising with him.

‘No. We don't have a CT scanner or access to MRI or PET scanning either, Dr Slater,' she repeated coolly. ‘Mwuranda has undergone years of civil unrest and there's no money available for equipment like that. It's difficult enough to maintain an adequate supply of basic drugs, in fact.'

‘Then how do you suggest we do our jobs?' he snapped, glaring at her as though he held her personally responsible for the state of the country's medical facilities.

Claire made herself return his stare but the chill in his eyes was unnerving. She couldn't stop her mind darting back to the way Andrew had looked at her whenever she had done something to annoy him. She had to make a determined effort to focus on the present moment. ‘The old-fashioned way—through good diagnosis. Isn't that right, Bill?'

‘Harrumph, well, yes.' Bill looked uncomfortable about being drawn into the decidedly frosty discussion. He sighed when Jude looked sharply at him. ‘I understand your concerns, of course, but in the absence of any modern technology, we just have to do the best we can.'

‘I see.' Jude turned and glared at Claire again. ‘Well, I want it putting on record that I'm not happy with the situation. Is that clear?'

‘As crystal. I shall make a note of your comments in triplicate, Dr Slater, and ensure that the appropriate authorities are informed forthwith.'

Bill looked even more uncomfortable when he heard the sarcasm in Claire's voice but Jude ignored it as he plucked a pair of gloves out of the box. He bent over the patient, his hands moving over the injured man's skull with the same skill and dexterity which Claire had admired earlier. Maybe he was upset about the lack of modern aids, but he was able to contain his emotions while he got on with the job. And it was a salutary reminder of the way her former boyfriend had been able to emotionally detach himself as well.

Claire quickly excused herself and left. She knew it was unprofessional to leave in the middle of an examination but she simply had to get away. Fortunately one of the local nurses was standing in Reception, so Claire asked her if she would assist in triage then made her way to the office to sign in. Every member of staff had to sign in and out whenever they entered or left the building. Although it was a bit of a bind, they all understood how important it was to know where everyone was in case of an emergency. Now Claire sighed as she realised that she hadn't explained the procedure to Dr Slater. It meant that she would have to speak to him again and that was something she had been hoping to avoid. She'd had more than enough of the man for one day!

Lola was sitting behind her desk when Claire opened the office door and she grinned at her. ‘I see you made it back safely, then, hon.'

‘Only just.' Claire scrawled her name on the sheet then poured herself a cup of coffee. Walking over to the one and only easy chair, she flopped down onto its lumpy cushions. ‘We found the truck on our way back. And the driver.'

‘And?' Lola prompted when she paused to sip some of the muddy brown brew that passed for coffee.

‘
And
we ended up starring in our very own version of the shoot-out at the OK Corral.' She grimaced as she put the cup on a pile of medical journals which served as a coffee table in the absence of anything else. ‘That coffee is disgusting! How long has it been stewing in the pot?'

‘Who knows?' Lola dismissed the coffee's pedigree with a wave of her hand. Anxiety was etched all over her face as she looked at Claire in concern. ‘Are you sure you're all right? It must have been real scary for you, so don't think you have to pull that stiff-upper-lip routine you Brits are famous for. If you want to bawl your eyes out then go right ahead.'

‘I'm fine. Really,' Claire assured her. ‘OK, so it was a bit hairy at the time, but I was too angry to be really scared.'

‘Angry?' Lola repeated. ‘You mean with the guys who were shooting at you?'

‘No. With Dr Jude Tobias Slater!'

Claire stood up and started to pace the room, her temper rocketing as she thought about all the things he had done that day. Ignoring her instructions to stay with the motorbike had been his first offence and his second had been the high-handed way he had taken charge. Maybe they were only minor misdemeanours in most people's eyes but they were far more than that to her. Jude Slater had tried his best to undermine her at every turn and she had too much experience of the harm it could cause to allow that to happen to her again.

She turned and glowered at Lola. ‘The guy is a liability! He's pushy and overbearing and, what's more, he seems to think that he knows everything about what it takes to survive out here when he knows nothing at all. Would you believe that he actually expected there would be an MRI scanner in the hospital?'

‘It's his first mission, though, hon.'

Lola shrugged, obviously trying to defuse the situation, but Claire didn't want it to be defused. She wanted there to be tension between her and Jude, and lots of it, too, because it would help to blot out everything else. The one thing she mustn't allow herself to do was to like him.

‘So?' she scoffed. ‘I remember when you arrived, Lola. It was your first mission as well, but you didn't expect there to be all kinds of fancy equipment here, did you?'

‘Ah, but I came straight from an inner-city public hospital, so my expectations were already fairly low.'

‘I suppose so.' Claire gave a grudging smile. ‘From what you've told me, conditions there weren't all that much better than they are here.'

‘You got that right, hon.'

Lola laughed. However, Claire knew that her friend was wondering why she had taken such an obvious dislike to the newest member of their team. There was no way she could explain that Jude reminded her of Andrew, not when she had told nobody about her former partner, so she remained silent and, after a moment, Lola carried on.

‘Dr Slater doesn't have my kind of background, Claire. I checked his file while you were out and discovered that he's been working in some fancy private hospital in London for the past five years. How's he going to have any experience of real life when he's been mixing with rich folks like that?'

‘In other words, I should cut him some slack—is that what you're saying?'

‘I guess so. OK, so maybe you two didn't hit it off, but don't let first impressions colour your judgement. You guys are going to have to work together and it's going to make life extremely difficult if you're at each other's throats all the time.'

Claire knew that Lola was right. However, the thought of having to work with him was too disturbing to deal with right then. She bolted down the rest of her coffee, fixing a smile into place when Lola looked at her in concern.

‘Don't worry. I'm not about to do anything rash. I forgot to tell Dr Slater that he needs to sign in, so I'd better go and do it before I forget.'

‘You do that, hon. And I bet you find that he isn't nearly as bad as you thought he was.'

Claire didn't say anything. It would serve no purpose to argue with Lola. However, as she left the office, she knew that the one thing she wouldn't do was try to improve her opinion of Jude Slater. She intended to keep him at arm's length and the more things she could find to dislike about him, the easier it would be.

* * *

‘I'll remove this section of bone. Then we can see how extensive the bleeding is.'

Jude bent over the operating table as he carefully eased the shattered section of bone from the man's skull. It was delicate work and even the tiniest slip could have the most horrendous consequences for the patient but he knew that he possessed the necessary skills. He was a first-rate surgeon despite the fact that he spent most of his time these days stripping out varicose veins.

The thought that he wasn't utilising his talent as he should be doing was unsettling. He had always believed that opting for the private sector had been the right decision. The perks which came with the job were all too obvious: an excellent salary; working hours which allowed him a healthy social life; an environment in which to work where the very best facilities were always available. However, he had to admit that he had become increasingly bored of late. Most of the work he did was purely routine and there was very little that stretched him. An operation like this was completely different. One slip and the patient could be left severely incapacitated and the thought put him on his mettle. As he suctioned away the massive haematoma that had formed inside the man's skull, Jude realised in surprise that he was
enjoying
himself.

‘Clamp.' He rapped out the instruction, nodding when the nurse at his side slapped the instrument into his palm. He clamped the damaged blood vessel then carefully removed two minute splinters of bone. Fortunately the meninges—the protective membranes which covered the brain—hadn't been pierced, so once he had cauterised the vein, the bleeding stopped. Nevertheless, it was another hour before he was satisfied that he had done all he could. It was out of his hands now and up to nature to run its course.

Jude glanced at Bill Arnold, who was acting as his anaesthetist. ‘I'm going to call it a day. There's not much more I can do for him.'

‘From what I saw, you did more than most would have attempted,' Bill replied as he began to reverse the anaesthetic. ‘Good work, son.'

Normally, Jude would have bridled if anyone had called him
son
but for some reason he was touched by the compliment. ‘Thanks,' he said lightly, not wanting the older man to guess that it meant anything to him.

He left Theatre, dropping his disposable cap into the bin on his way out before making his way to the changing room only to stop short when he opened the door and found Claire sitting on one of the benches. She immediately sprang to her feet when she saw him and he couldn't help noticing how defensive she looked.

‘I forgot to tell you about signing in,' she said quickly, and he winced when he heard the hostility in her voice.

It had been obvious when they were in Triage that he wasn't exactly flavour of the month and he could only conclude that it was because of what had happened earlier in the day. Maybe he should have deferred to her instead of taking over like that, but in his own defence, he had been more concerned about their safety than her injured feelings. He had been right, too, he assured himself, so he would be damned if he would apologise when he had got them safely back to the hospital.