Her Firefighter Under the Mistletoe

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_51c30fc2-bd3d-54f7-8d9f-e76da43f9bda)

Bzzz…bzzz…

The noise jerked Jess out of the delicious tranquil state that had been enveloping her.

Her eyes blinked at the bright light outside, the fuzziness of her brain trying to adjust and make sense of it all.

Her pager usually woke her in the dark of the night—just like it had three times last night. Having it wake her in the middle of the day was an entirely new experience.

A baby with RSV had kept her awake most of the night in Paediatric ITU, and when the ward had finally quietened down around an hour ago, she’d brought her coffee in here to do some paperwork.

Fat chance. She touched the coffee cup on her desk. Stone cold. Had she even managed a sip before she’d wiped out?

How long had she been asleep? She wriggled in her chair, rolling her shoulders back and trying to ease the knots out of her back.

Bzzz…Bzzz…

She glanced at the number. A and E. Another admission. Probably another respiratory problem.

It was Glasgow, at the start of November, but it felt like the middle of winter. The temperature had dropped dramatically in the last few days and paediatric emergency admissions had soared. Trips and falls on the slippery pavements had resulted in a whole host of strains, fractures and head injuries. Asthma and respiratory complaints were through the roof. Infections and nondescript viruses were causing mayhem with new babies and toddlers.

Just as well she didn’t have anyone to go home to. She hadn’t seen the inside of her house for days.

She picked up the phone and dialled A and E. ‘It’s Dr Rae. You were paging me.’

The voice was brusque, skipping over any pleasantries and getting straight to business. ‘Assemble a flying squad. Nursery minibus in the Clyde on the city outskirts. Unknown number of casualties. We’re waiting for more information from emergency services. You need to be ready to leave in five minutes.’

She was on her feet in seconds and throwing open the door, her tiredness, sore muscles and fatigue instantly forgotten. ‘I need a flying squad,’ she yelled, glancing down the corridor as the sister of the ward hurried towards her, ‘Where’s Jackie? I want her with me.’

Jackie appeared at her side in an instant. ‘What is it?’

‘Nursery minibus in the Clyde.’

The experienced nurse’s face paled. ‘In this weather? In these temperatures?’

‘Go!’ The ward sister waved her hand at them. ‘Leave everything else to me.’

Jess started jogging down the corridor, heading for the stairs. It took less than a minute to reach A and E and one of the staff thrust a green suit into her hands. She climbed into it immediately, noting the fluorescent ‘Doctor’ sign on the back. It was essential that all staff could be picked out easily in an emergency. One of the paramedics thrust a pair of gloves towards her. ‘Take these, you’ll need them out there.’

She glanced at her watch. It was only two-thirty in the afternoon. At least a few hours of daylight left. She prayed they wouldn’t need more than that.

‘Let’s go!’

The shout came from the front doors. Jackie appeared at her side again, similarly clad in a green jumpsuit with ‘Nurse’ emblazoned across the back. They picked up the pre-packed paediatric emergency kits and headed outside.

Jess climbed into one of the emergency vehicles and fastened her seat belt as the sirens sounded and they headed out onto the motorway. She turned to the man sitting next to her, ‘I’m Jess, paediatric consultant. Have you heard any more?’

He nodded. ‘Stan, emergency service co-ordinator. Lots of problems. Someone sideswiped the minibus and sent it down a thirty-foot slippery bank and straight into the Clyde.’

Jess tried to stop the sharp intake of breath. Her brain was into immediate overtime, imagining the types of injuries the children could have sustained.

‘How many?’

He shook his head. ‘Still waiting for confirmation. Three adults, at least ten kids.’

‘Age range?’

‘From two to five. We’re getting more information all the time. The other nursery minibus missed everything. They didn’t even know there had been an accident. The police are there now, collecting details of all the kids.’

Jess swallowed, trying to ignore the huge lump in her throat. The flying squad wasn’t called out too often. She was the consultant on call—it was her job to be here. But that didn’t mean her stomach wasn’t churning at the thought of the scene she was about to face.

Yes, she could appear calm. Yes, she could use her skills and clinical expertise. Yes, she would do everything that was expected of her and beyond.

But would she sleep tonight?

Probably not.

There was a crackle of the radio and some voices she couldn’t distinguish. The driver turned his head. ‘Five minutes. They’ve called out the rapid response and specialist rope rescue team. They should arrive just before us. Let’s hope Callum got out of bed on the right side today.’

‘Who is Callum?’

The words were out of her mouth automatically, before she even had a chance to think. ‘And what’s the specialist rope rescue team?’

None of this sounded good. All she could think about was the children involved in the crash. What did this mean for them?

Stan’s face was pale. ‘It means that the banking is too dangerous for our crews to work on, that, plus the added complication of being in water means we need the specialist crew.’

‘Will it delay me getting to the children?’

Stan averted his eyes, obviously not wanting to give her the answer. He hadn’t answered the other part of her question. He hadn’t mentioned Callum. And the driver’s comment had made her ears prick up. Let’s hope he got out of bed on the right side.

The last thing she needed right now was a prima donna firefighter getting in her way when she had kids to attend to. ‘Is Callum a bit on the crabbit side, then?’ she asked as they pulled over to the side of the road. A bad-tempered man she could deal with. As long as he didn’t interfere with her job.

‘Only on a good day,’ muttered Stan as he jumped from the rescue vehicle.

Jessica opened the door carefully, to avoid the passing traffic on the busy road. The police had cordoned part of it off as best they could. But the constant flow of traffic was unnerving.

The cold air hit her straight away. Biting cold, sneaking under the folds of her jumpsuit, made her wish she was wearing a hat, scarf and fleece and not just the thin gloves she’d been handed.

She flinched at the sight of the crash barrier, twisted beyond all recognition and lying like a useless piece of junk at the side of the road.