The Midwife's Longed-For Baby. Caroline Anderson

here,’ someone yelled, and then the crowd that had gathered around them parted as the trauma team arrived.

      He looked up without moving his hands. ‘She was KOed briefly, she’s got a head wound, and you’ll need a collar and a board. GCS three at first, now fourteen. She’s concussed, almost certainly whiplashed and she could have pelvic and spinal injuries—and mind her legs. I don’t know if they were hit,’ he said unsteadily, and then someone took over the control of her head and neck and he found himself gently shifted out of the way. Someone backed the car away very carefully to give them better access, and as soon as her spine was immobilised they moved her onto a stretcher, then up onto the trolley for the short trundle to the ED doors.

      He scooped up her bag and coat and went with them, still issuing instructions on autopilot. ‘Try and keep it smooth,’ he said, putting his free hand on the trolley to steady it. ‘She’ll need a head and neck CT and a full trauma series—’

      ‘It’s OK, you can leave her with us now,’ someone said, but he shook his head.

      ‘No way, she’s my wife,’ he said, for the sake of economy, and he followed them into Resus without waiting to be invited. The team closed around her, nobody he recognised, no one he could connect with, and then a door swished open and someone said, ‘OK, what have we got?’ and the voice from his youth was so familiar he could have cried with relief.

      ‘Sam,’ he said, his voice choked, and Sam stopped in his tracks and did a mild double-take.

      ‘Nick? What are you doing here?’

      ‘My wife was knocked down in the car park, right in front of me. Her name’s Olivia—Liv. She’s a midwife here.’

      ‘Liv’s your wife?’ Sam’s face creased into a frown and he bent over her so she could see his face without moving. ‘Hi, Liv, it’s Sam Ryder. Remember me? You delivered our baby last year.’

      ‘Of course I do. How is she?’ she mumbled, and Nick let out a sigh of relief because if she remembered that, it was a good sign—wasn’t it?

      ‘She’s fine. They’re both well.’ Sam turned to him. ‘What can you tell me about the accident? Speed, angle of collision, how far she travelled?’

      He made himself focus. ‘Um—low speed collision, probably less than ten miles an hour at the most? She stepped out backwards in front of a big SUV. She was hit from her left side and spun as she fell, but not far. Her head hit the kerb pretty hard. There’s a cut on the left side just behind the temple. GCS three initially, then fourteen after a brief loss of consciousness—’

      ‘How brief?’

      He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Not long, but long enough to be significant. A minute, maybe, at the most? I’d done a cursory check and called for help before she stirred.’

      ‘Did her head hit the bonnet before she fell?’

      ‘No. No, it really wasn’t that fast and the front wing just clipped her. She just—spun and fell, but really hard so she’ll need a CT and her head’s bleeding so she could have a fracture there where she hit the kerb, and she might be whiplashed and her spine needs checking thoroughly—’

      Sam lifted a hand. ‘OK, we’re on it. Can you give us her details so we can be getting her notes up? And then maybe you need to go and get a coffee while we check her over.’

      ‘I can’t leave her—’

      ‘Yes, you can. Don’t worry, we’ll keep you updated. Make sure we’ve got your number.’

      Sam turned back to Liv, taking her hand in his, focusing intently on his patient as Nick stood numbly and watched them, hardly daring to breathe.

      ‘OK, Liv, can you tell me where it hurts?’ Sam asked softly.

      ‘Everywhere.’

      ‘Well, that’s not very useful,’ he said with a grin. ‘Can you try and be a little more specific?’

      ‘My head?’

      ‘Anywhere else?’ He carried on chattily assessing her while Nick watched tensely from the sidelines, then he straightened.

      ‘OK. That’s all good. Can we get some IV paracetamol on board, please, and get a full trauma screen to rule out any fractures and then we’ll send you down for a head and neck CT, Liv, OK? And can we run a FAST scan, please, while we’re waiting?’

      Nick felt himself relax a fraction. Despite his light-hearted banter, Sam was looking after her properly, and all the time the nurses had been working, linking her to a monitor, getting IV access ready, cutting her clothes away so Sam could see her injuries.

      He could see them, too, and the bruises on her smooth, pale skin made him wince. She could so easily have been killed—

      ‘Mr Jarvis?’

      He turned his head, finally becoming aware of the nurse who’d laid a hand on his arm and was shaking it gently to get his attention.

      ‘If you could give me her details that would be very helpful.’

      ‘Of course. I’m sorry.’ He forced himself to focus, rattled off her name, date of birth, address, GP—

      ‘OK, I’ve got her. You’re her next of kin?’

      ‘Yes,’ he said firmly, although he didn’t know if that was still true, strictly speaking, because the ex-ness made that all a little unclear...

      ‘Same mobile phone number?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Is that her stuff? Would you like me to look after it?’

      He looked down and saw the coat and bag, clutched in his hand like a lifeline. He’d forgotten all about them. ‘Yeah, thanks.’ He handed them over just as the door behind him opened again and swished shut, and he turned his head and met Ben Walker’s worried eyes.

      ‘What’s going on? I heard Liv had been run over.’

      ‘Not run over,’ he said, his voice suddenly hollow. ‘She was knocked down. She’s got a head injury.’

      Ben frowned, crossed over to the bed and exchanged a few words with Sam, then leant over her. ‘Hi, Liv. Anything I can do?’

      She mumbled something, and Ben nodded and straightened up, squeezing her hand as he left her side.

      ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after him.’

      He turned to the nurse who was printing up Liv’s labels for the notes. ‘Page me if you need us,’ he said, and hooking his arm around Nick’s shoulders, the bluff Yorkshireman gently but firmly led him away.

       CHAPTER THREE

      BEN STEERED HIM through the department and out of the doors on the park side of the building.

      The cold March air hit him, and he hauled in a breath and gagged.

      ‘I feel sick,’ he said, and doubled over, retching emptily.

      He felt Ben’s hand on his back. ‘Come on. We’ll find a bench where you can sit down and I’ll go and get us a drink.’

      He nodded and straightened up, following Ben obediently across the grass on legs that weren’t quite steady. ‘I thought she was dead, Ben. She was about to step out in front of this massive SUV, right in front of my eyes, and I tried to hold her but she pulled away and fell backwards and it smacked into her and then she was lying there, so still, her feet just inches from the wheels—’

      ‘Nick, she’s alive and conscious and talking, and Sam will be doing everything he can to make sure she stays that way. Now sit down before you fall down.’

      They’d reached a bench, and he didn’t need telling twice.