Secrets In Sydney. Emily Forbes

her of this unwanted task that was stretching her and forcing her to go places she’d never been before. But he was powerless to help so he did the next best thing. ‘Theo, suction the clot and keep the field clear. She needs to be able to see.’

      ‘On it, Tom,’ the nurse replied.

      For a moment all he could hear was the gurgle of suction and he couldn’t stop his foot from tapping on the floor.

      ‘Okay.’ Hayley’s breath came out in a rush. ‘I see it.’

      Thank you. ‘Stop the bleeding with the bipolar forceps.’

      ‘What if that doesn’t work?’

      Don’t panic on me now, Hayley. He infused his voice with a calm he didn’t feel. This surgery was something he’d perfected over years of training. Hayley was being thrown in feet first. ‘We’ve got the option of clipping, but try the electrical coagulation first because it will probably work.’

      Please let it work. The sooner she stopped the bleeding, the better it was for their patient.

      He held his breath while Hayley worked, but he could only guess at what was going on because, apart from a few muttered words, she was silent. He’d always grunted, yelled, talked and even sung his way through surgery. Her silence was unnerving.

      ‘Suction, Theo,’ Hayley snapped.

      ‘Her intracranial pressure’s still rising.’ David sounded seriously worried.

      ‘Has it worked?’ Tom hoped like hell it had.

      ‘Pray that it has,’ Hayley said. ‘This is the moment of truth, team.’

      No one said a word. Only the buzz and whirr of the machines dared to make a sound as time slowed down, stretching out interminably and reaching into infinity.

      ‘Yes!’ Hayley’s woot of relief bounced around him. ‘Field is clear. Bleeding’s stopped. Clot’s evacuated. We did it. Thank goodness I’m sitting down or my legs would collapse.’

      ‘Great job. You’ve done well.’ Tom grinned, wanting to high-five her. She’d held her nerve in a tight corner and now step one was complete. He immediately focused. ‘Don’t get too excited. You’ve stopped the bleeding, but we’ve still got the problem of the pressure. With a mass that size you’re going to have to excise a part of it so the brain can get some relief and relax. This takes the risk of her brain herniating down to zero. We also need a biopsy for pathology so we can hand over to Lewis Renwick, who’ll operate to remove the rest of the tumour in a day or so.’

      ‘You make it all sound so simple.’

      ‘It’s just brain surgery.’

      Like a pressure valve being released, everyone laughed. Despite the life-threatening emergency, the fraught conditions and the fact he couldn’t operate, something inside Tom relaxed. Something that hadn’t relaxed in a very, very long time.

      Hayley felt utterly shattered as she walked toward ICU. Even though it had only been three and a half hours since she’d operated on Gretel, it felt like years ago. Having used up every ounce of her concentration whilst operating on her neurological patient, she’d expected to be able to fall in a quivering heap the moment the surgery was over. Instead, just as Tom and David had left the OR to escort Gretel to ICU, she’d been called back down to Emergency for another consultation. Half an hour later she’d been scrubbed again and busy resecting an ischaemic bowel. It hadn’t been an easy operation either.

      Now pink streaks of dawn clung to the clouds and all she wanted was her bed, but she couldn’t go home without calling in to see Gretel. She pushed open the doors, checked the patient board, and walked directly to cubicle four. She stood at the end of the ICU bed and blinked. Twice. Shooting out her hand, she gripped the edge of the bed as her legs threatened to collapse in shock. She didn’t know what stunned her more, the fact that Gretel—whose head she’d had her hands inside a few short hours ago—was sitting up, awake and talking to two doctors, or that Tom was one of those doctors.

      He was sitting by the bed, holding Gretel’s hand. His face had lost its taut expression—the one she’d become convinced was a permanent part of him—and he looked almost happy.

      Tom turned slowly and his nostrils flared. ‘Hayley?’

      A buzz of hope streaked along her veins. He knows it’s you.

      It’s not personal. He’s got ninja olfactory skills.

      She nodded automatically and then realised her mistake. ‘Yes, Tom, it’s me.’

      ‘Lewis …’ Tom threw his arm out toward her ‘… meet Hayley Grey, the registrar who operated on Gretel.’

      A man in a crumpled suit extended his hand in greeting along with a tired smile. ‘Lewis Renwick. Last neurosurgeon in Sydney, it seems. Sorry I was tied up at RPH, but Tom’s been telling me that you coped admirably. Looking at the most recent scan, I agree. You’ve done a wonderful job.’

      Hayley grinned with relief. ‘Thank you, but I’m pretty good at following instructions.’

      Lewis laughed. ‘Which is fortunate as Tom’s pretty good at giving them.’

      Tom’s dark brows rose but a grin clung to his lips. ‘Only because most people need them.’

      Gretel smiled and touched her hair. ‘Thanks, Dr Grey, not just for saving my life but for saving most of my hair.’

      ‘You’re very welcome, but it was very much a team event, with Mr Jordan guiding me through it.’

      ‘I know, he told me all about it.’ Gretel glanced between the three of them, but spoke directly to Hayley. ‘I can’t believe all this has happened to me, but at least the tumour isn’t cancerous. I’m so lucky that you and Mr Jordan were here tonight and now to have Mr Renwick looking after me.’

      Tom patted Gretel’s hand and gave her a big wink. ‘He’s almost as good a neurosurgeon as me except for his lousy taste in music.’

      ‘So now you’re taking on Mozart?’ Lewis folded his arms in mock effrontery.

      ‘I always let my patients choose their playlist for the awake part of their surgery.’

      The joking faded from Tom’s voice and Hayley saw how much he missed hospital life. It wasn’t just the surgery but his patients as well. Perhaps the patients even more than the surgery? The thought hovered for a moment before she discarded it.

      ‘I tell you what, Gretel …’ Lewis made a note on her chart ‘… ask your family to bring in your MP3 player and as long as there’s no hip-hop on it, you can listen to your music while I’m removing the tumour and the anaesthetist is asking you questions.’

      ‘That’s awesome, Mr Renwick. Thank you.’ Gretel touched the bandage on her head. ‘It’s going to be weird being awake while you’re operating on my brain.’

      Hayley gave Gretel’s foot a pat. ‘I’ll leave you to talk to Mr Renwick about the surgery as I’m heading home now, but I’ll call by later tonight when I’m back on duty.’

      ‘I’ll come with you.’ Tom rose and flicked out his cane.

      Hayley’s feet stayed still in surprise. He’d been brilliant in Theatre, but she could still vividly remember what he’d said when he’d first answered the phone. Now he wanted to leave with her? It didn’t make sense.

      He’s in ICU with machines everywhere. He’ll need some guidance to get to the safety of the corridor.

      Yep, that would be it.

      Logic didn’t stop the sneaking fizz of disappointment.

      ‘You’re in good hands, Gretel.’ Tom’s voice suddenly took on a parental tone with an underlying warning. ‘Take care of her, Lewis.’

      Hayley stepped up