Nurse In Need

Amy dodged an incoming stretcher and made for the telephone on the sorting desk. She checked the laminated chart on the wall for the extension number she needed and was about to dial when she felt a touch on her elbow.

‘Amy, have you been introduced to Tom Barlow?’

‘No,’ Amy said truthfully. Even before she turned she could feel that tactile gaze from those brown eyes fixed on her. She directed her gaze towards nurse manager Peter Milne. ‘I think I…I saw him around, though,’ she stammered. ‘On Friday.’

‘Tom’s going to be heading the resus team when he’s on duty.’ Peter didn’t seem to notice Amy’s discomfort. He turned to the man beside him. ‘Tom, this is Amy Brooks. She’s the circulation nurse on the team.’

Amy had to look at him now. She had to accept the outstretched hand.

‘I’m delighted to meet you, Amy,’ Tom Barlow said politely. The brown eyes held a disconcertingly amused gleam. ‘It’s not often I get introduced to a genuine angel.’

Peter looked nonplussed but then grinned. ‘Oh, of course. You were here on Friday, when Amy was looking after Patrick.’

Amy pulled her hand free. ‘I hope you’ll enjoy working here, Dr Barlow,’ she managed evenly.

‘Call me Tom. And I expect it will be heavenly.’ Tom’s smile expanded lazily and Peter chuckled.

‘Don’t expect perfection, Tom. While I have to admit I’ve never seen Amy behaving badly, I’m sure it’s not beyond the realms of possibility.’

‘I’m sure it’s not.’

Amy could feel the ominous prickle of embarrassed heat assault her neck. Was he referring to the spectacular scene she’d created at the Wesley household which Peter seemed mercifully unaware of? Or was it the fact that she’d kissed a complete stranger—correction, let a complete stranger kiss her, presumably only minutes away from announcing her engagement to another man. If Amy remembered nothing else with vivid clarity from that disastrous evening, she certainly remembered that kiss. The heat had reached more than her cheeks by the time she’d picked up the phone and dialled the extension number.

‘Hi,’ she said hurriedly. ‘It’s Amy here, from Emergency.’ It felt like tiny flames might erupt from her face at any moment but the men beside her still hadn’t moved away. ‘We’ve got a three-year-old girl here who came in query meningitis. She’s dehydrated and pyrexic. We’d like to admit her for observation and some fluid replacement, at least short term. Have you got a bed available?’

They were finally moving away. Amy took a deep breath and sighed with relief. She didn’t have to look at Tom Barlow again for the moment. With a bit of luck the overpowering internal sensation which the memory of his kiss had again provoked would now fade completely. Amy wished, somewhat desperately, that she never had to look at Tom Barlow again. The memory would be hard enough to banish all on its own.

The music had to be faced some time. Amy might have guessed that the downward slide would begin when Janice Healey came on duty at midday. Start times for shifts in the emergency department were staggered to allow for more continuity of patient care. Jennifer was doing the same shift as Janice today but she’d arrived earlier and was now sitting in the staffroom, sharing Amy’s lunch-break.

‘I hear it was an interesting party on Friday night, Amy.’ Janice was unpacking food supplies from her shoulder-bag.

Amy glanced suspiciously at Jennifer who grimaced ruefully. ‘I think Noel might have been entertaining the other registrars a bit yesterday,’ she admitted.

Janice flicked her sleek bob as she turned to flash Amy an expression of bemusement laced with satisfaction.

‘You must be mad,’ she suggested, looking pleased with her analysis of the situation. ‘There’s no way I’d stuff up an opportunity like that.’ Janice shook her head and opened the small fridge.

‘You never know, Janice,’ Jennifer said kindly, ‘you might just be lucky enough to get an opportunity like that one day.’

‘Luck has nothing to do with it.’ Janice removed someone’s lunch-box from the shelf to make room for her supply of yoghurt and fruit. ‘I have every intention of being married by the time I’m twenty-five.’ She peered at her container of yoghurt. ‘There’s no way I’m going to end up going past my “use by” date.’

‘How old are you, Janice?’ Amy queried.

‘Twenty-four. And a half.’ Janice smiled knowingly. ‘But six months is plenty of time when the right man is available.’

‘Nigel Wesley’s available,’ Jennifer said with a straight face. ‘Go for it, Janice.’

‘Hmm.’ Janice appeared to give the option due consideration. ‘Well, he’s older and quite successful. And he is a doctor, but he doesn’t quite make the grade. Unfortunately, I can’t stand facial hair.’ Janice’s shudder was beautifully done.

‘What poor victim did you have in mind, then?’ Jennifer demanded. Her glance towards Amy suggested that it had better not be Noel Fenton.

‘Not telling.’ Janice smiled. She shook the wings of black hair away from her face and glanced at the clock. ‘Time for work,’ she announced cheerfully.

Jennifer scowled at Janice’s back as she left. ‘Who’s she working on? That’s what I’d like to know.’

As though in answer to her question, another figure appeared in the staffroom doorway.

‘Hi, Tom.’ Jennifer’s greeting was warm. ‘How’s the first day going?’