Proposing to the Children's Doctor. Joanna Neil

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      She glanced up at the man. ‘Well, thank you for letting me know. That’s a message I definitely needed to get.’

      He nodded. ‘That’s what I thought. It’s difficult when elderly relatives are left to fend for themselves.’

      Was that a hint of censure she detected in his voice? Rebecca drew herself up, a spark of resentment flaring to life in her smoke-grey eyes. What did he know about the way she lived her life? Who was he to stand in judgement of her?

      She opened her mouth to say something, but then clamped it shut as he went on, ‘Actually, there was something else—I found a letter addressed to you this morning.’ He reached into his inside jacket pocket and drew out an envelope, holding it out to her. ‘This is you, right—Rebecca McIntyre?’

      Rebecca nodded, and he said shortly, ‘I thought so. I heard your flatmate calling out after you, this morning as you left the house. I would have given it to her to pass on to you, but I was having a bit of a lie-in, and after that I was out for some of the day, so I haven’t had the chance to catch up with either of you.’

      Her glance flicked over him. Nice that he was able to grab a leisurely day for himself. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been able to do that. Her job was one of constant pressure, with lifesaving decisions to be made about her small patients and long hours when she was on call.

      Still, to be fair to him, maybe he was taking a day or so to acclimatise himself to his new surroundings. At any rate, it didn’t sound as though he had anything pressing he needed to attend to right away, no job to keep him occupied.

      He gave her a grimace. ‘I don’t know who picked up the letter originally, but it might be that it slipped from a pile on the hall table and somehow became wedged between the table and the wall. I caught a glimpse of the corner of the envelope. The postmark is a few days old, so I hope it wasn’t anything important.’

      He handed her the envelope and she stared down at the black, handwritten address and winced. The writing style was familiar enough. She would recognise her sister Alison’s neat lettering anywhere, but why would she write and not phone? There was an overseas postmark, and that could only mean that there had been some kind of setback to her plans and she wasn’t able to come back to the UK as planned.

      She released a faint sigh. All her plans for a joyful reunion were falling apart. This day was getting worse with every moment that passed, and on top of that her new neighbour must be thinking that she was careless and irresponsible along with everything else.

      ‘Thanks again,’ she murmured, sending the man a quick glance. ‘I do appreciate the trouble you’ve taken.’

      ‘You’re very welcome.’ He frowned. ‘Though I take it from your expression that it’s not likely to be good news in there?’

      She gave a reluctant smile. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t shoot the messenger. All in all, it’s been a bad day for me, but things can only get better, can’t they?’

      ‘Let’s hope so.’ He made as though to move away from her, but in that instant a crashing sound erupted from inside the flat, followed by a loud scream.

      He turned around to face her once more, his expression rueful. ‘I think perhaps you might have spoken too soon,’ he murmured.

      Rebecca felt her heart sink. ‘Oh, dear. I’d better go and see what’s going on in there. Thanks again for passing on the message.’

      She turned away from him and pushed open the door to the flat, standing in the doorway and scanning the room briefly. It was clear at a glance what had happened.

      The heavy, glass-fronted display cabinet had fallen over, probably aided by some drunken partygoer stumbling about, and she could see that some of the contents, once beautiful glassware and delicate ornaments, were scattered in fragments about the floor.

      Far worse than that, though, a man’s arm was sticking out from underneath the cabinet, and a pool of his blood was slowly seeping across the carpet. People were standing about, some in shock, some confused and most the worse for wear through drink.

      ‘Help me get the cabinet off him,’ she said in an urgent tone, rushing over to where the man lay and directing her words at her friends. ‘Angie, can you grab one end? Connie, will you go around the other side?’

      Angie’s new flatmate hurried to position herself at a point where she could assist. ‘It’s too heavy,’ Connie said. ‘We’re not going to be able to do this on our own.’

      ‘You girls get ready to pull him out from underneath.’ Craig’s voice cut into their conversation, his tone clipped and decisive, and Rebecca stared up at him in shock. He must have followed her into the room. ‘I’ll ease it up from him. Just watch out for falling glass.’

      ‘Perhaps we should find something that we can wedge in between him and the glass doors when you lift it?’ Angie’s expression was stricken. ‘He’s already badly cut, from the look of things. Wait just a second while I go and grab something from the kitchen.’

      She hurried away and came back just a moment or two later, armed with a couple of large trays. ‘I’ll try to slide these over him as you move him out of the way.’

      Rebecca nodded, and glanced at Connie. ‘We need to keep his head and neck as steady as possible while we drag him out from underneath.’ She looked around for more volunteers,and a trio of men came forward. One of them went to help with the cabinet.

      ‘Are you ready?’ Craig asked. ‘Is everyone in position?’

      ‘We’re ready.’ Rebecca signalled to the others, and in a team effort they pulled the young man clear of the cabinet while Craig and his helper stood it back on its feet.

      ‘He’s losing an awful lot of blood,’ Angie said. ‘There are cuts to his arm and wrist. He’ll need to go to hospital.’

      Rebecca nodded. ‘There’s a puncture wound to a main blood vessel. Ring for an ambulance while I try to stop the bleeding, will you?’

      ‘I’ve already called emergency services,’ Craig said. ‘Do you have anything you can use as a pressure pad?’

      ‘Yes, in the first-aid bag.’ She was already applying pressure to the injured area with her fingers, but now she looked up at Connie. ‘The bag’s in the hallway in the cupboard under the stairs. Would you go and fetch it for me?’

      Connie nodded and shot off towards the hallway, while Rebecca and Angie did what they could to reassure the young man.

      ‘Can you hear me, James?’ Rebecca queried gently, recognizing the young medical student. ‘Do you know what happened to you?’

      James mumbled a reply and Rebecca guessed that a combination of alcohol and blood loss was causing him difficulty in responding. She said in a soothing voice, ‘I want you to lie still while I try to control the bleeding. I’m going to raise your arm for a while to slow things down a bit, and then I’m going to bind a pressure pad in place on your arm. We need to get you to hospital so that your cuts can be stitched.’

      By the time the paramedics arrived, she had things more or less under control. She made James as comfortable as possible and watched over his transfer to the ambulance, and it was only when the vehicle had moved off along СКАЧАТЬ