Rivals In Practice

‘Not any more.’

‘What?’ Jennifer’s brow furrowed. ‘Have you specialised in something, then?’

‘Not exactly.’ Jennifer’s stare at Andrew wasn’t productive. His head was bent, his attention on the dressing he was holding to his calf. A dressing that was already soaked with blood.

‘Is that an arterial bleed?’ Jennifer snapped.

A figure appeared beside Andrew before he had time to respond. Tom Bartlett glanced at Andrew’s leg, then towards Jennifer.

‘I’ve got one of the boys to take your truck back to the hospital with the two people from the other vehicle, Jenny. They don’t seem to be injured badly but they’ll need checking. How’s Liam?’

‘He’s pretty seriously injured. Under normal circumstances I’d be calling for a helicopter to get him to Christchurch. We’ll have to get an ambulance in by road.’

‘No go, sorry.’ Tom’s face was grim. ‘There’s been a massive slip on the other side of the hilltop. Our access is completely cut off.’

Jennifer marshalled her thoughts rapidly. ‘You’ll have to come with me,’ she told Andrew. ‘I’m going to need some help.’

‘I can’t.’ Andrew shook his head. ‘I’m on holiday. My camper van’s over there.’

‘I don’t give a damn about your holiday.’ Jennifer couldn’t believe Andrew’s casual attitude to this situation. ‘This is serious,’ she told him coldly. ‘Liam’s life might depend on you sacrificing a few hours of your precious leisure time.’

‘What I meant was, I don’t have a current practising certificate for New Zealand.’ Andrew met her furious glare without blinking. ‘I’m not licensed to treat patients here.’

‘I don’t give a damn about that either,’ Jennifer said briskly. ‘You’re qualified to help. And you need medical attention yourself. You’ve already lost quite enough blood.’

‘What about the camper van?’

‘Stop arguing and get in,’ Jennifer ordered. She looked at Tom. ‘Can you sort out the van?’

‘Sure. Where do you want it?’

‘The hospital car park is blocked. Have it taken up to my place.’

‘Hang on a minute—’

Jennifer ignored Andrew’s protest. ‘Did Wendy get hold of you, Tom?’

‘About extra staff? Yes.’ Tom nodded confirmation. ‘I got hold of Janey and she’s going to round up Michelle and Suzanne.’

‘Great.’ Jennifer’s head swivelled. ‘Let’s get going, then, Mickey.’

The fire officer climbed down the steps and looked at Andrew. ‘You’d better get in,’ he told him, ‘so I can fold these steps up and shut the doors.’

Andrew paused for another moment, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he climbed into the back of the vehicle, sitting heavily on the bench seat that ran parallel to the stretcher.

‘I knew this holiday was going to be a disaster,’ he informed Jennifer. ‘I’ve known it for nearly a year.’

‘Why did you come, then?’ Jennifer was fitting the electrodes from the lifepack to Liam’s chest and a pulse oximeter to his finger. Her tone was unsympathetic.

‘I couldn’t miss it.’ Andrew gave a snort of laughter that held no amusement. ‘After all, it is my honeymoon.’

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_ccb7fa76-ef74-5325-a2e6-40d58d8fba42)

IT WAS not a moment to offer congratulations.

Jennifer Tremaine ignored Andrew Stephenson’s statement regarding his holiday and the odd implications it carried. Jennifer didn’t care about the reasons Andrew had returned to this side of the globe or why the trip might be proving less than satisfactory. If there was a new wife sulking in the back of the camper van because of some marital dispute, Tom could sort it out. Andrew certainly didn’t seem bothered but that was hardly surprising to Jennifer, given what she remembered about the man. She could put aside what she thought of his personality, however. The fact was, he was here, and Jennifer badly needed the professional skills he was capable of providing. When Mickey slammed the back doors of the Land Rover closed she almost smiled with satisfaction. She had Andrew Stephenson trapped for the moment and she was taking him in the direction she had chosen.

Despite the protective wet-weather clothing, Jennifer was soaked and cold. She took a moment away from her assessment of Liam Bellamy’s condition to reach for some towels in an overhead locker. The thick, dark blonde curls of her hair were plastered to her head and still dripping enough water to be a real nuisance.

‘Blood pressure’s 100 over 60,’ she informed Andrew as she roughly dried her face and hands. ‘Heart rate’s up to 130. He’s shocked, but his airway’s still clear and his breathing hasn’t deteriorated any further.’ She shoved a fresh towel towards her passenger. ‘Get yourself a bit drier,’ she ordered. ‘You must be frozen. Wrap yourself in a blanket as well.’

‘Thanks.’ Andrew took the towel with one hand. His other hand was still holding the dressing on his lower leg. The thick gauze wadding was saturated and a trickle of blood moved through the fingers holding the pad in place.

‘Put some pressure on that,’ Jennifer directed. ‘Thanks.’ Andrew’s tone was much less appreciative this time. ‘But I do remember the basics of haemorrhage control.’

‘Try to implement them effectively, then,’ Jennifer suggested. She turned back to Liam, her stethoscope in her ears again. The gap in time since she had last had any contact with Andrew Stephenson seemed to have evaporated effortlessly. A casual snipe at each other and they were back to communicating the way they always had. Time clearly hadn’t changed Andrew, but Jennifer was faintly ashamed that she could slip so easily into what she considered an immature and less than professional mode of interaction. She rose quickly, bracing herself against the stretcher as she pulled open another locker. She took out a bandage and one of the largest sterile dressings available, ripping open the packages as she turned back.

‘Fold this up,’ she directed Andrew, handing him the large gauze wadding. ‘I’ll put a pressure bandage on and maybe that will stop the bleeding.’ She tried to smile at Andrew as he looked up—a form of apology for her lapse in courtesy—but he didn’t return the gesture. As Jennifer stooped and began to bind the bulky dressing firmly to his leg, he picked up the towel and dried his face. Jennifer worked rapidly, taking only seconds to finish her task. It was long enough to gain a physical impression of the man, however. The muscle beneath her hands felt like iron. Andrew hadn’t gained an ounce of flab over the years. If anything, he was even leaner than he had been.

‘That saline’s almost run through. You’d better start another unit.’

‘OK.’ Jennifer reacted promptly. Perhaps Andrew was taking more notice of Liam’s condition than the impression he had given. Maybe he would be more inclined to offer his assistance when they had some better facilities available. If they ever got back to the hospital. Mickey seemed to have brought the Land Rover to a complete halt.

‘What’s going on, Mickey?’

‘I’m watching the waves,’ Mickey called back. ‘The wash is right over the road just here and I don’t want us stuck in the middle if we catch a big one.’

At least they were only minutes away from the hospital. They only had to head up the hill a little way and turn onto Napoleon Drive. There was a tense silence in the vehicle as they waited. Jennifer listened to the roar of the surf as it covered the sound of more hail on the roof above them. They moved with a jerk as Mickey accelerated to clear the patch of road between waves. Jennifer leaned closer to Liam.

‘We’re almost there,’ she told him. ‘Don’t worry, Liam. We’ll soon have you sorted out.’

Her patient moved convulsively, coughing and then retching. He was gagging on the plastic airway and the oxygen mask filled up with blood. Jennifer uttered a dismayed oath as she wrenched it clear of his face before he could inhale any of the contents. The airway tube fell to the floor and rolled beneath the stretcher.

‘Get him on his side,’ Andrew ordered crisply.

Jennifer was already doing her best but Liam was a well-built young man and hardly moved when she grasped his shoulders to pull him over. Suddenly it seemed as if Liam was rolling himself onto his side and Jennifer realised that Andrew was beside her, lifting and turning the heavy body with apparent ease.

‘Have you got a suction kit?’

‘On the wall behind you. There’s a clip underneath.’ Jennifer was holding Liam’s head, keeping his airway open. She hoped the rough manoeuvre hadn’t exacerbated any injury. ‘I hope he doesn’t have a pelvic fracture.’

‘I’d say his airway and breathing are more of a priority right now,’ Andrew responded coolly. ‘Here…’ He handed her the tube from the suction kit and switched the unit to full power.

‘You do it,’ Jennifer told him. ‘I need to find another OP airway and a bag mask.’

‘I’m not wearing gloves.’

‘Then put some on.’ Jennifer snatched the tube and cleared the blood from Liam’s mouth and nose. She noted the cut inside his lip, the broken teeth and the probable broken nose, but were they enough to explain the amount of blood in the mask?