St Piran's: The Brooding Heart Surgeon. Alison Roberts

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ that wasn’t the least bit funny. Like the whole of civilian life. It was a game. A pretence. Meaningless.

      Going outside was better. A brisk walk around the sprawling, modern structure that was busy St Piran’s hospital. A helicopter was coming in to land, no doubt bringing a trauma patient to the emergency department. Luke’s eyes narrowed as he watched it intently and soaked in the sound of its rotors. If anything was likely to give him a flashback, surely that was?

      It wasn’t going to happen. He knew that because he was aware of the potential and he was focused. In control. The way he should have been for every second of that surgery. He kept watching anyway. Testing himself, until the helicopter took off again and disappeared into the distance.

      A tempting distance. He could start walking again and just keep going. Stride down the cobbled streets of this picturesque market town until he got to the harbour. Or, better yet, a stretch of beach where he could push himself with the added difficulty of walking in sand. Or hurl himself into the surf with its magic, albeit temporary, ability to numb his body and brain and wash everything away. An effect a thousand times better than a cold shower.

      But this was early December. It was freezing and his wetsuit was hanging to dry on his back porch after his early swim that morning. His leg hurt, too, thanks to standing so still for so long in Theatre. And he was here because he had a job to do. A job he had been lucky to be able to come back to. An anchor. Something to build on and the only thing he had, really. Given time, this might start making sense again, giving him the bonus of feeling like he was doing something worthwhile even, though after this morning that goal seemed further away than ever.

      At least the patient who had been unfortunate enough to be his first case back here was doing well.

      It was nearly an hour later that Luke arrived in the intensive care unit and Colin was awake, though very drowsy. A nurse was by his side and she smiled warmly at the surgeon.

      ‘I’ve been hearing all about the surgery,’ she said to him. ‘I wish I could have seen it. I hear you did an amazing job.’

      Luke made a noncommittal sound without looking away from the monitor screen giving detailed recordings of what was happening inside Colin’s heart thanks to the catheter that had been positioned at the very end of the surgery.

      Surgery that could have been a total disaster.

      An amazing job? He didn’t think so.

      The nurse was still hovering. He heard the intake of her breath. She was about to say something else. Possibly another admiring comment. Luke shifted his gaze to give her what he hoped would be a quelling glance. Sure enough, her mouth snapped shut, a flush of colour stained her cheeks and she turned to fiddle with an IV port on her patient’s arm.

      Colin’s eyes flickered open. He saw the surgeon standing beside his bed and smiled weakly.

      ‘I’m still here,’ he said, his voice slightly raspy. ‘Thanks, Doc.’

      Luke returned the smile. ‘You’re doing fine. We’ll keep an eye on you in here for a bit and there’s a few tests we need to run later today, but we’ll get you onto the ward as soon as possible. Do you have anything you want to ask me about?’

      Colin’s head moved in a slow shake. ‘I think my wife’s asked everything already. Dr Bartlett seems to know what she’s talking about. I’m still a bit groggy to take it in but I’m alive and that’s what matters.’ He smiled again, his relief obvious.

      ‘I’ll be back later. I can talk to you and your wife then.’

      ‘Dr Bartlett said how well things had gone. What a great job you did.’

      ‘Oh?’ That surprised him. Or did Anna not worry about embellishing the truth when it came to reassuring her post-operative patients?

      ‘The wife’s just gone to find my mum downstairs and look after the kids so Mum can come in for a visit. Hey, did I say thanks?’

      ‘You did.’

      Luke knew he sounded brusque. He didn’t need the nurse to give a look vaguely reminiscent of the glare he’d seen more than once in Theatre from Anna. Did she know? Had word spread that his new colleague had had to leap in and prevent the error he’d made during surgery becoming a potential catastrophe?

      ‘Where is Dr Bartlett?’ he asked the nurse as he signed off a new addition to the drug chart and prepared to leave the intensive care unit. ‘I need to have a word with her.’

      ‘Back in Theatre, I expect.’

      Of course she was. He’d seen the case listed on the whiteboard in the theatre suite. A sternal wire removal. In the same theatre Colin had been in. With the same theatre staff, presumably. Would Anna be checking whether anyone else had noticed the incident and could back up her report on the concerns she now had about the abilities of the returning head of department?

      She hadn’t said anything at the time. Hadn’t even sent a significant glance in his direction, but that said something in itself, didn’t it? She hadn’t bothered to hide what she thought of him returning to take her job in those early glares. It suggested that she was weighing the implications. Making sure she used the ammunition he had handed her to best effect by choosing the best time and place.

      Dammit! How the hell had it happened? He was well used to the nightmares, but to have a flashback like that happen during the day? In the middle of surgery? It was appalling. He wasn’t quite sure of how long he had lost his focus but he had no doubts about what could have happened if there hadn’t been someone as quick as Anna on the other side of that table.

      It wouldn’t happen again. He’d lost focus because that had been his first slot back in a civilian theatre. His concentration had been too much on a procedure that couldn’t have been more different to the kind of work in an Iraqi field hospital or, more particularly, as a member of the medical emergency response team on a mission on the front line. It had been slow and fiddly compared to the aggressive, lifesaving measures of treating major trauma under circumstances as tough as they got. It had been a mental ambush, triggered by the unexpected amount of blood he’d seen, or the way it had pooled, maybe.

      Whatever. It wouldn’t happen again because he’d be ready for it and wasn’t going to allow a loss of control. Luke was perfectly confident of his ability to do just that.

      But would Anna believe it?

      A pair of green eyes came to mind. Framed by dark lashes that were unadorned by any mascara. Angry eyes. Accusing and assessing at the same time. What would they be like, softened by trust?

      Even more compelling, no doubt, but Luke had to wonder if he would ever witness such a change.

      Winning Anna’s trust was not even the priority it probably should be because this underlying tension … this waiting for something potentially unpleasant to happen, was oddly welcome. It made him feel a little more alive than he had ever felt since he’d been shipped home.

      He was there, in the hospital canteen. Sitting alone near a window.

      Brooding was the word that sprang to Anna’s mind. Hunched over a plate of food he appeared to be toying with rather than eating. The big room was well populated and noisy. Was that why the table with its single occupant seemed to stand out like a beacon? Or was her glance drawn there like a magnet because so many other people were eyeing the newcomer and СКАЧАТЬ