One Night in Emergency. Carol Marinelli

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      ‘What’s the problem?’

      Eleanor heard him before she saw him, cringing behind the door as Mary patiently explained the problem. ‘The med reg will be doing his rounds and the poor lady’s in distress. I don’t want her to be prodded and poked just for the sake of it.’

      Eleanor had rather hoped her next glimpse of him would have been from a safe distance, that somehow she could have blushed unnoticed from afar, but instead six feet four of dark-suited, heavily aftershaved, damp-haired, masculine beauty squeezed himself into the drug room and gave her the briefest of nods.

      ‘Good morning, Sister.’

      ‘Morning,’ Eleanor croaked.

      ‘Could I see the notes, please?’

      Her hand was shaking so much as she passed them to him, she was practically fanning him, but Rory didn’t seem to notice, taking them with a murmur of thanks and then reading them through carefully. If he’d looked gorgeous in jeans and a T-shirt, he looked divine in a suit, those sexy dark blond curls combed back smoothly now, and first impressions clearly counted for nothing because Rory Hunter up close and personal looked every inch the consultant. He had an authoritative air, a distinguished look about him, nothing like the tousled man who had lain on the gurney just over a week previously.

      But it wasn’t just his hunk status that was causing a tremor to ripple through Eleanor. As senior as Mary and Rory were, Eleanor wasn’t quite sure how she’d react if Rory just wrote up the morphine without laying eyes on the patient. It was all very well for Mary to call in a favour, all very well for Rory to trust in her, but as junior as she was it was still Eleanor’s responsibility, if she were to sign her name in the drug book, to assure that due care had been given.

      ‘I’ll need to see her,’ he said finally, and Eleanor let out a relieved sigh. ‘I’ll do my best not to upset her, though. Can one of you give me a hand?’

      ‘Eleanor will go with you.’ Mary beamed. ‘And thank you for this, Rory, I know it’s not your problem.’

      ‘If it’s in my department it’s my problem.’ Rory shrugged, nodding to Eleanor to follow him.

      It was the longest walk of Eleanor’s life. Apologies bobbed on her tongue, but she bit them back. Clearly Rory wanted to pretend the whole embarrassing incident hadn’t happened, which suited her just fine.

      ‘It won’t take long.’ Rory gave a brief on-off smile as they reached the cubicle and, utterly unable to look at him, Eleanor gave a small nod. ‘Is everything all right, Sister?’

      ‘Fine,’ Eleanor croaked.

      ‘You do understand why I need to examine her?’

      She did but, given a sudden dry throat and a face a darker shade of purple, even a simple ‘yes’ was impossible at the moment and a rather unconvincing nod was the only response she could manage, putting her hand up to pull the curtain back, wanting to just get inside. But Rory had other ideas, calling her back and addressing her sharply.

      ‘While morphine will certainly make Miss Nugent more comfortable, it will also compromise her level of consciousness and her breathing.’ Rory’s eyes were boring into her as Eleanor stared down at her hands. ‘Now, I know it’s not ideal that I have to examine her again, and I know it must be rather annoying for you to have to walk all the way from the drug cupboard and then back again, but for the record, Sister, I’m not prepared to write up a strong injection like morphine without having first seen the patient.’

      ‘Mr Hunter.’ Somehow she found her voice, somehow she managed to tear her eyes from her hands and look up at him, if not into his eyes at least in general direction of his face. Uncomfortable she may be, facing him, but Rory Hunter’s biting sarcasm needed to be addressed. They mightn’t have got off to the best start the week before last, she might have come across as the worst nurse in the living memory, but his hint at laziness was unjust and unfair. ‘I have no problem with you examining Miss Nugent. In fact, I was thinking back in the drug room that had you just written up morphine for Mary, I would have refused to give it. I most certainly wouldn’t be happy giving a strong drug to a patient as sick as this one, prescribed by a doctor who hadn’t even laid eyes on her.’

      ‘Good,’ Rory replied crisply.

      ‘And the inference that I somehow resent making two trips to the drug room is unfair.’

      ‘Then I apologise.’

      ‘Oh.’ Eleanor blinked at him.

      ‘You seemed a bit uptight. I assumed that was the reason.’

      ‘Well, it wasn’t.’

      ‘Clearly.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Now, let’s have a look at the patient.’

      Any grievances were left firmly at the cubicle’s entrance. Rory Hunter’s bedside manner was impeccable. Politely he introduced himself to Em, his huge hands gently closing around her frail wrist as he located the flickering pulse, before pulling his stethoscope out of his pocket, even rubbing the bulb to warm it before listening to her chest.

      ‘Can you help me sit her forward so I can listen to her back?’

      They gently lifted Em forward, Eleanor talking soothingly as the old lady whimpered at the intrusion.

      ‘Nearly done,’ Rory soothed as they laid her back against the pillow. ‘We’ll go and get you that medicine now. You’ll soon be much more comfortable.

      ‘Poor thing,’ he added as they got outside. ‘How long till she gets up to a ward?’

      ‘I’m not sure. Mary said that the bed manager is trying to locate a bed, but the medical and geriatric wards are all supposedly full. Perhaps a few will be freed up after the ward rounds.’

      ‘Hopefully she’ll make it till then,’ Rory said pointedly, scanning the department with those navy eyes. ‘It looks like Mary’s tied up. I’ll go and get the keys off her and check the drug with you—the patient’s already waited long enough.’

      Which was the last thing she needed, but at least it meant Em would soon be more comfortable, Eleanor consoled herself as again she found herself in the drug room with him.

      ‘We’ll just give her 2.5 mg for now,’ Rory said, talking aloud as he wrote up his notes. ‘If that doesn’t settle her, let me know, but she’s so tiny I’m sure it will be plenty.’

      ‘Sure.’

      Of course, because Mary had never let her so much as touch the sacred controlled drug keys, it seemed to take for ever to work out which one to use, especially with Rory tapping his pen impatiently as she fumbled. ‘Sorry.’ Pulling out the drugs, she showed him the morphine vials. ‘Twenty ampoules, after this one nineteen.’

      ‘Agreed.’

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