Rivals In Practice

‘That’s a nasty cough.’ Jennifer frowned. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling all right?’

‘I’m fine.’ Andrew forced himself to a sitting position. ‘I had a viral illness a couple of weeks ago. Left me with a touch of bronchitis.’

Jennifer was still frowning. She fiddled with the end of her stethoscope. ‘Maybe I should give you a proper check-up.’

‘Forget it. You’ve got real patients to see to. Like Liam.’

‘Wendy’s quite capable of monitoring things. She’ll come and get us if we’re needed.’

The second knock on the door made them both expect an instant summons to Liam, who still lay in the treatment room, but it was Suzanne who appeared in the doorway.

‘We need you, Jen. Liz has been in second stage labour for over an hour. The baby hasn’t turned and I’m not happy. Liz is exhausted and the foetal heart rate is dropping slightly during contractions.’

Wendy’s face appeared beside Suzanne’s. ‘Liam’s ECG is showing a few irregularities,’ she informed Jennifer. ‘Can you come?’

Andrew watched as Jennifer straightened her back. He could see the determination to cope in her face as it settled into a look of grim focus. She must be as tired as he was. She’d worked a full day before being called out to that accident site and she’d coped brilliantly with the unusual stress of major surgery being conducted in her treatment room. It must be years since she’d worked as an anaesthetist and it hadn’t been easy, dealing with a patient in Liam’s critical condition. She had two patients needing urgent attention now and he suspected that others were waiting. That middle-aged couple from the accident for starters. He swung his legs over the edge of the couch. His loose scrub-suit trousers unfolded to cover the bandage on his leg.

‘You see to the baby,’ he told Jennifer. ‘I’ll look after Liam.’

Gratitude for Andrew’s unexpected offer of assistance stayed with Jennifer until she stepped into the maternity suite. Then everything else was forgotten. Elizabeth looked awful. Her face was puffy and her eyes swollen and red. A considerable number of tears had clearly been shed since Jennifer had last seen her patient. She picked up the damp cloth lying on the bedside locker and sponged her patient’s face gently as she absorbed her impression of the young woman’s condition and watched the trace of the foetal monitor.

‘You’ve been coping so well, Liz. You’re not having an easy time of it, are you?’