Pregnant With The Boss's Baby

Tamara asked quietly, ‘You can’t? Or won’t?’

Back to the elephant. She knew next to nothing about him, and he wasn’t about to let his tongue go crazy filling in the gaps. Though there was one detail he’d have to reveal. His feet hit the floor in an instant, and his head spun as he came upright. Not now. Not today.

‘Conor?’ Not so quiet.

‘Either way, it makes no difference.’

Tamara’s eyes narrowed. ‘If there are things I need to know for my baby’s sake then tell me.’

He moved away from the desk abruptly, his chair flung back against the wall. His hands went to his hips, held tight. ‘All my adult life I’ve actively avoided this exact moment. Yet here it is, staring me down.’ Commitment with a capital C.

‘Don’t you like children? You’re always amazing with them in the department, teasing and fun, easing their distress. I wouldn’t have believed you were faking it.’ She paused, and when he didn’t answer she continued. ‘We need to talk, about a lot of things. Seems you’ve got issues. Which means I do too. I need to know what they are, Conor. For our child’s sake, if nothing else.’

‘What I need right now is some air. This office is stuffy. I’ll see you back at work shortly.’ Pulling the door open, he stepped right up against Michael’s extended hand.

‘I was about to knock,’ the registrar muttered, dropping his hand quickly. ‘We’ve got a situation and you’re both needed. Urgently.’

‘I’m on my break.’ Conor hauled the brakes on his motor mouth, breathed deep. ‘Sorry, start again. What situation?’

I need to get away from here, from Tamara and the distress in those serious eyes. I need to work out what’s just happened. Have I spent fourteen years being deliberately solo for nothing?

He felt movement beside him, heard Tamara ask, in a voice that didn’t sound a lot stronger than his, ‘What is it, Michael?’

‘I’ve just got off the phone from Ambulance Headquarters. All hell’s about to break out. There’s been an accident involving a busload of children.’

Saved by the phone. Conor started down the corridor towards the centre of the department, and swore. He didn’t really wish harm on those kids so he could avoid facing up to Tamara’s news. News that at the moment had to go on hold. ‘Continue.’

‘A school bus has rolled off the motorway on-ramp in Newmarket. There are many serious casualties.’ The registrar’s voice slowed, dropped an octave. ‘And some fatalities.’

Conor saw the precise moment the reality of what he’d reported to them hit Michael. The guy’s eyes widened, and his body sagged a little. Something like his own reaction to Tamara’s news. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he said, ‘Okay, get everyone together and I’ll outline how we go about this.’

‘They’re all waiting for you and Tamara at the desk.’ Michael’s voice cracked. ‘This is huge.’

‘We’ll manage by breaking it down into components.’ Conor was already busy drawing up a mental list of people to call, jobs to do, equipment to check over. The moment he stood in front of his team he wasted no time. ‘Firstly, no one’s going home at three.’ The clock showed two thirty-five. He glanced at Tamara, who’d moved in beside Kelli.

Horror and despair for what they would shortly be dealing with filled her eyes. All of the previous distress about their own personal situation had been shoved aside. He nodded at her. Very impressive. She’d been ahead of him.

A tall, blond-haired man stepped into the area. ‘What’s up?’

‘Mac.’ Conor nodded at the head of the evening shift as he joined them. ‘We’re about to receive multiple stat one junior patients from a bus accident.’ He quickly added the few details he had. ‘You should take over right from the start. It’s going to be your roster.’

Mac shook his head. ‘No, you carry on, get things rolling. Your team’s all here, mine is yet to arrive.’

It made sense, and in some ways Conor was pleased. He preferred leading from the front, but that also meant there was a very long night ahead. He turned to Michael. ‘When can we expect the first patient?’ Patient, not child. It helped him keep his distance a little bit. But only until the first victim arrived. Then his heart would break for the child and his or her family. Every time he had to tell a parent bad news he saw his mother, distraught, inconsolable as she kissed his brother goodbye before the funeral.

Michael’s voice came through. ‘Coms couldn’t tell me times or numbers. She said it’s absolute chaos out there. Because we’re closest we get the first, most urgent cases, then they’ll start feeding out to other hospitals.’

‘First we need to clear as many beds as we can. Michael, what’ve we got?’

‘One lad about to have his arm put in plaster. A woman with unidentified head pain awaiting lab results. There are also two stat five patients in the waiting room.’

‘Kelli, take the boy, get him fixed up and on his way home. Michael, see if the general ward can accommodate the head-pain patient and let them follow up on her blood results as they come in.’

‘Onto it.’

‘Tamara.’ When had she come to stand next to him? Like she was offering support? He should’ve felt her there, but he wasn’t used to looking to someone else for comfort or sharing. He looked into that steady dark gaze and knew he was glad she was with him. For now they were on the same page, despite the chasm yawning between them. A baby. Longing unfurled slowly deep inside. Family. The thing he’d denied himself for life. Even when he’d desperately wanted one. Was this the universe’s way of saying he was wrong?

An elbow nudging his arm reminded him of what he was meant to be thinking about. Nothing to do with babies. ‘Right, Tamara.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked, clearly weighing up all that had to be done before their first little patient came through those wide doors from the ambulance bays.

‘In the waiting room, those stat fives. Send the man with the possible sprained ankle straight to Radiology. I’ll let them know he’s coming and why the hurry.’

‘Right.’ She made to move away.

She was obviously not as distracted as he was, then. This woman was the ultimate professional, hiding behind that impenetrable façade, letting nothing personal affect her work. He’d only once seen her mask come down completely. Whoa. Do not go there. ‘Wait. The man with a constant bleeding nose can go over the way to the emergency doctors’ clinic.’

‘He’s going to love that,’ Tamara muttered as she reached to pick up the patient notes.

‘Explain the situation. He’ll get just as good care there, and certainly a lot quicker. Tell Reception to send people to medical centres where possible after the triage nurse has assessed them. Once those kids start arriving no one else is going to get a look in unless they’re stat one.’

‘Give me the easy job, why don’t you?’ There was no acid in her retort. Maybe it wasn’t a retort, considering the lift of those full lips into something resembling a tentative smile. A Tamara smile—rarely given, and never over-eager—was something to hold onto.

Warmth flooded him because of that smile. Warmth that only Tamara seemed capable of giving him at a deeper level than just fun and enjoyment. He found her a smile in return, and drank in her surprise. Hopefully she didn’t know how she affected him when he wasn’t being careful, which around her was becoming more and more difficult. Hence why he’d applied for a job in Sydney, hopefully starting next month.

Staff from the next shift were wandering in one at a time. A low hum of whispers told the newcomers what they were about to deal with. Conor looked at Mac, who said, ‘Pretty much everyone’s here so carry on. You’ve started the process.’

Facing the eager faces, Conor told the nurses and registrars, ‘All of you, double check we’re ready and prepared for every eventuality. You know what to do. Treat this as you would any stat one coming through the door, but know there’s going to be a seemingly endless stream. It will come to an end, I assure you, but there’ll be moments when you doubt that.’ He paused to let his words sink in, then said, ‘I’ll be on the phone, putting people around the hospital on standby, but interrupt me if you find there’s a problem anywhere. There are going to be double ups amongst you but, believe me, you will all be required.’

Mac took over allocating jobs while Conor punched in the direct dial number for the theatre manager. ‘Sister, we have a situation.’ He quickly brought her up to speed and then left her to get on with cancelling surgeries and getting theatres prepared for the influx due any moment.

Theatres, done. Running through a mental list of who he had to notify, he punched in the next number. Radiology, then surgeons and other specialists, blood bank.

‘Everyone’s busy so I can take some of those calls.’ Mac stood in front of him, phone in hand. ‘Who’s next?’

‘Orthopaedics.’

Together they worked systematically through the list, the whole time Conor watching the minutes ticking by, feeling the tension building in himself and the department as the doors from the ambulance bay remained firmly shut. He slammed the phone down on his final call. ‘Come on. Where are these kids? The odds aren’t great if they don’t get here now.’

Mac shook his head. ‘We’re organised, ready and waiting. But, yeah, where the hell are those children?’

The buzzer screamed, cutting through the air, sounding louder and more urgent than normal. Instant silence fell across the department and every head turned towards those doors.

Conor drew a breath. ‘Okay, everyone, good luck. I know you’ll do your damnedest.’ And then some.

As he took a step his gaze slid from the doors to Tamara. She was pale, but ramrod straight, and her nod in his direction was assured. Then she was moving to let in their first patient, and Conor was right beside her.

‘Jamie Johnson, eight years old, severe concussion.’