The Marry-Me Wish (12 page)

‘V tach again,' came the warning as Anne swabbed the boy's chest with disinfectant and was paused with a scalpel in her hand. ‘No…V fib… He's arrested.'

‘Stand clear.' Anne reached for the life-pack controls. ‘Shocking now.'

She watched the screen intently as a normal rhythm emerged from the straight line following the shock. Then she looked up as a newcomer entered a now crowded space. David could sense her relief to see the anaesthetist she probably worked with on a regular basis.

‘Good to see you, Bob. This lad needs tubing. I think we're looking at doing a thoracotamy.'

‘Tamponade?

‘Looks like it.'

David agreed silently. There was so much bleeding going on in that small chest that it was becoming impossible for the heart to work normally, let alone the lungs. Having checked and found no obvious injuries to the boy's abdomen or pelvis, he was beginning to feel redundant. Daniel's legs and head also seem to have escaped major trauma. It was the chest that had caught the brunt of whatever had trapped this child in the wreckage.

He could—and probably should—go and check the other patients who had come in from this scene but he knew they were well attended by staff who would come and get him if he was needed. And none of them had been anywhere near as critically injured as this young child.

And this was compelling drama. Opening someone's chest in an emergency department was fortunately a rare occurrence. If it had to happen—as was becoming evident it was in this case—because the patient wouldn't survive long enough to get to Theatre without it, then you couldn't hope for anyone better than a surgeon who specialised in doing exactly this kind of procedure.

That so many people were watching and hanging off every movement and word that came from Anne was clearly not fazing her at all.

She had that kind of intense focus that made anything other than the life she was trying to save totally irrelevant. The way she had been that first day David had seen her when he'd come back here. With the backdrop of another case of child chest trauma. Another little life that she'd had the ability to save. Who the hell did he think
he was to even consider himself worth compromising such a brilliant career for?

He had the weird feeling that a circle was closing. That something was very close to being complete.

Over.

‘Clamp, thanks.' Somehow, amongst the terrible open wound that was this little boy's chest now, Anne had found something that made her tone triumphant. ‘Laceration of the left ventricle,' she told her audience. ‘I'll put in a temporary suture and we'll get him straight up to Theatre. How's the BP now?'

‘Coming up. Systolic 95.'

‘Oxygen saturation?'

‘Improving. Eight-six per cent and rising.'

‘Good.' Anne's hands were making swift, graceful movements, the thread of the suture invisible from where David was standing. She glanced in his direction. ‘David, could you alert Theatre that we'll be on the way up in less than five minutes, please?'

‘Sure.' Was she intending to go into Theatre with Daniel?

As if reading her thoughts, Anne spoke again. ‘Page Jeff, too. If he's not available, I'll scrub. We don't want to lose any time.'

 

David had waited for her.

It was nearly 6 p.m. by the time Anne left the paediatric intensive care unit but she found him in his office when she walked past on her way to leave the hospital.

‘I thought you might have gone home.'

‘I was waiting for you. We had plans, remember?'

He didn't look happy. Why? Because she'd stepped in and taken over a major case in his department?

‘Daniel's looking okay,' she told him. ‘He'll be on a ventilator for a while but he's oxygenating well and his cardiac function's looking stable. He's got a fighting chance.'

‘Lucky for him that you arrived when you did.'

‘You could have done it,' Anne said quietly. ‘But I'm glad I was there. It was…'

What she'd been missing even though she hadn't realised she was missing it. That adrenaline rush. The amazing zone where you could put every ounce of your skill into making sure no tiny detail got missed. The kind of case that was so unlikely to be successful but when it was…

‘It was amazing,' she said aloud. ‘Don't you love it when you win against odds like that?'

‘Absolutely.' But David's smile looked strained. ‘Shall we go? Do you still want to drop in at the cottage?'

Anne was still watching his face. Looking for clues that might explain this odd tension in the room. She had no idea why but she was quite sure that going to the cottage with him would make it worse.

‘Not really,' she said cautiously.

‘Of course.' David was shutting down his computer. ‘You'll want to hang around for a while. In case you're needed for any follow-up on the boy.'

‘The boy'? David knew Daniel's name. He was deliberately trying to make this less personal. More professional. To do with the job, not the people involved, as if it was possible to separate them.

The penny dropped and Anne knew what this new tension was all about. No wonder the prospect of going to her old home in David's company had rung alarm bells. That cottage had been the scene of the final unravelling of their relationship. The arguments.

His plans had been unexpectedly disrupted this afternoon and old buttons had been pushed. The ones created by interrupted dates or the inability to leave town for a romantic weekend away. He'd been left by himself. Waiting for her. Anne could almost hear the echo of angry voices in the back of her mind.

‘Nothing matters more than your career, Anne. You're selfish.'

‘That's the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it? You want me to sacrifice my career to have children. That's worse than selfish. Positively Victorian.'

‘If love is involved, it's called compromise, not sacrifice. But you don't know that word, do you? Not the meaning of it, anyway.'

Anne could almost feel the same anger she'd felt then at being accused of being selfish. She'd never been selfish. She'd given up a normal childhood and teenage years to be a mother. She'd given the use of her body to her sister to create a family for her.

Did David still think she was being selfish? Just because she'd become so involved in this afternoon's case that she'd missed a kind of date with him?

No. Of course he wouldn't be that petty. Maybe the combination of circumstances had given him the kind of flashback she'd just experienced. She was probably looking less than happy herself right at this moment.

‘I don't need to stay here,' she said quietly. ‘But I have left my mobile number and asked to be called if there are any concerns with Daniel during this postoperative phase.' Her tone rose a little defensively. ‘He's become my patient, David. You didn't have to hand him over to me, you know.'

‘Oh, but I did.' David was on his feet, coming out from behind his desk. ‘A life was at stake, Annie. I would have doing less than my job if I hadn't provided the best care I possibly could.' He put his hands on Anne's shoulders, bent down and kissed her lips gently. ‘That was you. The best. I'm not at all convinced that young Daniel would have even made it to Theatre if you hadn't been there. I'm proud of you.'

He sounded sincere. He had used the softened version of her name that only the people closest to her ever used. His kiss had been real. The glow of pleasure lasted until Anne pulled back far enough to meet his gaze but then it spluttered and died. There was something in his eyes that scared her.

Something that reminded her of what she'd seen—or rather, heard—not so long ago. When he'd been talking about the pond. Something beautiful that had been lost. Did he think that he'd lost her? That the pull of her amazing career was something he couldn't—or didn't want—to compete with?

The choice loomed closer. Maybe this was as good a time as any to talk about it. Anne drew in a deep breath and gathered her courage but just as she opened her mouth to speak, the mobile phone in her bag began to trill.

‘Daniel?'

‘No.' Anne had fished the phone from its pocket and frowned at the screen. ‘It's Jules. On her mobile.'

She answered the call but, for several seconds, she could make no sense of what she was hearing. Her sister sounded hysterical. There were babies crying and a loud, mechanical kind of noise. There even seemed to be a siren going nearby.

‘Calm down,' she instructed Julia. ‘I don't understand. Take a deep breath and start again, hon. Where are you? What's all the noise about?'

She listened carefully. She asked a couple of questions and heard herself automatically saying reassuring things. Then she ended the call and looked at David.

‘
What?
' he demanded.

‘Oh, my God…' Anne wanted to close her eyes and make this all go away but she couldn't. She clung to David's gaze and tried to get the words from a throat that suddenly felt too tight to breathe, let alone speak.

‘What is it?' David said. He was holding her, with both his gaze and his tone. Steadily. ‘Tell me.'

Anne swallowed. Hard. She could feel the prickle of tears in her eyes and her voice could only emerge in a whisper.

‘Mac's helicopter has crashed.'

H
IS
arms were around her in an instant.

Holding her close.

Giving her that same sense of safety they always did. Advertising David's ability to care for
her
. And, yes, it was other people Anne had to worry about right now. Mac, of course—her dearly beloved brother-in-law. Julia, not only at this point but possibly for the rest of her life, if the worst had happened and she had lost the man she loved so much. And there were two tiny babies, who might have lost their father.

David cared about these people too but his first action was to look after
her
. To be the rock from which she could gather the strength she would need to face this crisis.

How could she ever survive without this in her life?

She couldn't. That was all there was to it but this wasn't the time to be thinking about herself or how she could secure the future she knew she needed. Or imagining how she would feel if her fear had been for David's life and not Mac's. It crept in, though, just for a heart
beat. Long enough for her to know that she loved this man quite probably just as much as Julia loved Mac.

The murmurs of sympathy and encouragement were filtering into the panicked buzzing in Anne's head. Becoming words. Instructions.

‘We need to go,' David was saying. ‘I'll take you to Jules.'

‘No.' Anne shook her head, feeling the solid wall of David's chest against her forehead. Taking in a deep breath that filled her with the warmth and scent of him because she couldn't know how long it might be before she could be this close again. ‘She's coming here.'

‘What? She's not driving?'

‘No.' Anne scrubbed at her face. The tears had gone and she felt calm now. Ready to do whatever needed to be done. ‘The news of the crash came through Ambulance Control. Jules has her best friends in the service. They weren't about to let a police officer she'd never met arrive on her doorstep with that news. They dispatched a free ambulance crew.'

‘But they're coming here? To Emergency?'

Anne nodded.

David looked pale. ‘Why? Is someone hurt? Jules? One of the babies?'

‘No.' Anne had to touch him. To find a smile. To offer him just a fraction of what he'd been able to give her. Reassurance. Strength. ‘They asked Jules what she needed and she said…' Anne had to take a breath to fight the wobble in her voice. ‘She said she needed me.'

‘And you said you were here.'

‘Yes. We can take her home but maybe this is a
better place to be. They haven't found the helicopter yet but when they do… If Mac's injured and not…' Anne had to press her lips together to stop any more words coming out. She had to close her eyes to try not to see the worst.

‘If he's injured they might bring him here,' David finished for her. ‘Yes. That makes sense. All right, let's go and see if the relatives' room is free. Otherwise we can find another space that will be private.'

He took hold of Anne's hand and led her from the office. Word in the department spread like wildfire and the availability of the relatives' room was guaranteed. When the ambulance pulled into the loading bay a short time later they were both standing there, waiting for the back doors to open.

Julia stumbled out first and almost fell into her sister's arms. It was David who gripped the handles of the two baby car seats and carried the infants inside. Bags that had clearly been hastily stuffed with things the twins might need were carried in by a paramedic who followed the small procession, oblivious to curious stares, as it made its way through the emergency department and into the room set aside for them.

‘Thank you so much,' Julia said to the bag carrier. ‘I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been the one to come and tell me.'

‘No worries,' the paramedic assured her, giving her a hug. ‘Is there anything else I can do?'

Julia shook her head. ‘You guys need to get back on the road and I'm okay. I've got Annie now. Just…can
you get someone to tell me any news? You might hear something that…that they might wait to tell me.'

The paramedic nodded, his face grim. ‘They've sent a search and rescue spotter plane out. If the emergency beacon's working we should hear something soon. One of us will call it through.'

Anne had her arm around her sister again. ‘Let me give you my mobile number. And a landline in case we decide to go home.'

It wasn't until she'd recited the numbers and the paramedic was leaving that Anne realised she had automatically given the landline number of David's house as her home.

Because, in the space of the last few weeks, it had become her home, hadn't it?

Where her heart was.

Had David noticed? Turning, Anne saw that he was crouched beside one of the car seats, undoing the safety belt to release one of the crying babies.

Julia had moved to crouch beside the other seat. ‘They're hungry,' she was telling David. ‘And probably wet.'

‘No problem,' David said calmly. ‘We'll get them sorted in no time, don't you worry.'

The noise level was escalating. Angus and Amy seemed to think that being taken from the cocoon of their car seats was yet another tribulation. They were both red-faced and howling. Tiny fists punched the air to underline their misery.

This was a nightmare.

Julia needed comfort. Support. A calm environment
would help. What would it be like to be faced with the sense of being unable to cope with the background horror that she might have to parent alone for ever?

Anne started digging in the bags. Looking for nappies and wipes. Formula and bottles and dry clothes.

‘Maybe we need some help,' she said. ‘I could find a nurse who's not busy, maybe.'

David and Julia both looked at her. Julia looked bemused, as though she didn't quite understand what Anne meant. Weirdly, Anne thought she saw that odd note of sadness in David's expression again.

‘We're fine, Annie,' he said gently. ‘This is about family. We don't need anyone else.'

He was holding Amy in his arms now. He lifted the baby so that she was pressed against his chest. Close to his heartbeat, as Anne had been herself so recently. The tiny head with its fluffy, dark hair and that endearing bald spot on the back was nestled against David's neck.

Unsurprisingly, the baby's howls started to diminish.

‘There you go.' David smiled, turning his head so that his lips brushed Amy's head. ‘That's better, isn't it, princess?'

Anne swallowed what felt like a hard lump in her throat. He was right. This was about family. Staying close and looking after each other. Had he seen her offer to find extra help as an admission of failure, perhaps? Did he think that she was trying to avoid dealing with this herself because of some personal issues stemming from the surrogacy? Or, worse, that she was simply being
selfish
?

 

‘Let me take Angus for you,' she said to Julia.

‘Maybe you could make up some formula.' Julia was bouncing Angus gently in her arms. ‘Have you found the tin? And the bottles?'

Anne nodded. ‘There's a microwave in the staffroom. Or do I need to boil some water? And how many scoops for each bottle?'

‘I'd better do it,' Julia decided. ‘Here, you take Gus. I know where everything is.'

‘I'll come with you.'

‘No. They get more upset if they're separated. I'm okay, Annie.' Julia was pale and her eyes huge and dark but her voice was steady. She carefully transferred her noisy bundle into her sister's arms.

‘Are you sure?'

Julia smiled. ‘I probably know my way around here better than you do. It's part of where I worked, remember? And it's…part of where Mac works. I feel closer to him here and…it'll help if I have something to do.'

Anne was blinking back tears. Good grief, she was supposed to be the strong one. How come she hadn't noticed her baby sister turning into such a strong woman? She felt completely out of her depth here. She should be taking charge and giving Julia strength, not the other way around. This was confusing at some level. Or maybe it was because she was being handed the responsibility of her nephew and she wasn't sure she was ready for this yet.

Ready or not, she had no choice.

 

Poor Anne.

She was rocking Angus in her arms, walking round and round the only available space between the couches in this room, looking less and less sure of herself.

‘What am I doing wrong?' she asked David.

‘Nothing, love. He's sad because he's hungry. And probably because he's got wet pants.'

‘Okay. I can deal with that.'

‘Sure you can. You're way ahead of me in baby skills.'

Anne knelt on the floor, carefully adjusting her burden so that she could use one hand to sort through one of the bags.

‘It's more than a quarter of a century since I changed a nappy,' she said. ‘And we used cloth ones, not disposables.' She laid a towel on the floor and put Angus down to unbutton his suit.

‘Phew!' She screwed up her nose a moment later. ‘Some things don't change. I might need a bathtub here.'

David grinned. ‘Wipes should do it. They'll be in that bag there somewhere.'

Anne's face was a picture as she held the baby's feet in the air and started to wipe a small dirty bottom. Her movements were tentative at first and Angus obviously realised that he was in the hands of someone who might not know what they were doing. His shrieks reached an impressive decibel level.

‘Want to swap?' he offered.

‘No.' Anne sounded as though her teeth were gritted. ‘I can do this.'

Of course she could but it was impossible not to compare this Anne to the woman he'd seen in Resus 1 a few hours ago. That intently focused, brilliant surgeon. She'd been doing what she was meant to be doing then. What she wanted to do. Looking skilled and competent.

Now she was looking lost and miserable. She had to be worried sick about Mac. And Julia. And maybe she hadn't been ready to get this involved with the babies she'd given birth to but wasn't going to parent. And maybe there was another fear that she might not have even acknowledged yet. If the worst had happened and Mac wasn't coming home then she would, by default, become a second parent to her nephew and niece because there was no way she would leave Julia to face the future alone.

Ironic in a way. He'd realised today that he could never ask Anne to compromise her career for the sake of family but fate might be forcing her to do just that.

With children that weren't hers. Or his.

Unconsciously, David tightened his grip on the baby he held. They needed protection, these precious babies. He wouldn't allow himself to think of the worst case scenario.

‘You're doing great,' he told Anne, who was reaching for a clean nappy now.

‘Which bit goes at the front?'

‘I think it's the bit with the sticky tabs. No…maybe it's the other way round.' Good grief, neither of them was exactly qualified to be doing this, were they?

Julia arrived back with two warm bottles of formula as Anne was struggling to keep small, chubby legs still for long enough to stick the nappy in place. She caught David's gaze and her eyebrows rose in a silent query about whether Anne was coping. He smiled.

‘Sit down,' he suggested. ‘And take Amy. She needs her mum. Give me the other bottle and I'll rescue Annie.'

Anne had picked Angus up. The buttons on his stretch suit were gaping in a peculiar fashion and having a clean bottom hadn't made him any happier. Anne looked over to where Julia was sitting with Amy, who had taken to her bottle, and then she looked at David and he could see despair in her face.

‘I'll take him,' he said. ‘You need to wash your hands.'

By the time she returned, David was sitting the couch beside Julia and Angus lay in his arms, sucking furiously on his bottle, wide eyes staring up at the unfamiliar man who was feeding him. The only sound in the room was the contented sucking noises the babies were making.

Until Anne's phone rang.

Julia flinched and then froze, watching as Anne took the call.

‘They're within range of the beacon,' she relayed moments later.

‘Radio contact?' David queried.

Anne shook her head. ‘But there's hours of daylight left. They'll find them soon.'

The wait seemed interminable. Having been fed and changed and cuddled, the twins settled to sleep in the cushioned comfort of their car seats, a fuzzy blanket draped over them for warmth. David sat on a couch with a hand on each handle, rocking the seats gently. Anne held Julia in her arms on the other couch. A silent support that spoke of a bond too deep to measure.

And then someone knocked on the door.

‘Jules?' It was the same paramedic who had brought her here. ‘They've found them.'

David watched the sisters straighten. They both had
the same frozen expression on their faces. They were holding each other's hands so tightly it had to hurt.

‘They're alive,' the paramedic said. ‘Both of them. The radio gear's been knocked out of action but the chopper is pretty well intact and they're both on safe ground. In bush country, so the plane couldn't land.'

‘Oh…' For the first time since she'd arrived at the hospital, Julia burst into tears. ‘Oh… Thank goodness!'

‘They're not hurt?' Anne whispered.

‘Not badly, from what could be seen. Mac was lying on the ground but he was waving, apparently. They reckoned he had a big grin on his face.'

Julia hiccupped and smiled. ‘That's my Mac.'

‘They're sending a chopper. It's about thirty minutes' flight time and I'm on the crew to go. I came to see if you wanted to come with us, Jules.'

‘Oh…' Julia sprang to her feet.
‘Yes.'