The Shy Nurse's Rebel Doc. Alison Roberts

in his pocket, whenever something important was happening. Like when he had to change schools. Or when the big boys on the block were following him home...

      Blake dismissed the memory of that fear with a soft snort. His upbringing had had its advantages because he wasn’t afraid of anything now.

      And this real-life toy wasn’t anything like his miniature version. Someone must have spent a fortune restoring it. He’d bet it had a completely new motor now, and that soft, red leather upholstery certainly wasn’t original. A new staff member, perhaps? Or a visiting consultant who had the means to indulge a pricey hobby? The idea of spending huge amounts of money purely for pleasure was distasteful but he wasn’t going to allow that to tarnish a memory that had been a poignant reminder of something very special. It became so much more muted when you were an adult, that bolt of sheer happiness that life could deliver something so amazing. When you could find real treasure so unexpectedly.

      He pulled his helmet off. He was tucking it under his arm when the soft, early morning air around him, still blurred with those long-ago memories, was shattered by a sound that lifted the hairs on the back of his neck.

      A scream of pure terror.

      ‘Help...oh, God... Help...’

      It was coming from the adjoining public car park. Blake’s helmet bounced, unseen, off the asphalt behind him. He vaulted over the dividing fence with only a touch of his hand to boost him. The heels of his cowboy-style boots beat a tattoo on the hard surface as he ran towards the terrible sound. His peripheral vision caught the movement of others coming in the same direction but he was there first. The young woman standing beside the opened back door of her car didn’t appear to be injured or unwell. She just looked petrified.

      ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

      The question was redundant a split second later, because he could see into the back seat of the car now. Into the baby seat. He could see the blue lips of a baby who wasn’t breathing.

      The safety harness was already undone and it was easy to lift the infant with his hands under its armpits, his fingers supporting the head. Sometimes, being moved suddenly could be enough to restart breathing but Blake could feel how unresponsive this baby was as he stepped back from the car. He dropped to his knees and cradled the baby in his arms, tilting the head back to ensure the airway was open as he covered the tiny nose and mouth with his lips as he delivered a rescue breath.

      And then another. He could see the chest rising so he knew that the airway wasn’t obstructed but there was still no response. With two fingers positioned on the centre of the baby’s chest he began rapid compressions. A few seconds later, he paused to deliver another two breaths.

      Other people had arrived now.

      ‘What happened?’

      ‘How long since he stopped breathing?’

      The mother was sobbing. ‘I knew there was something wrong, that’s why I was bringing him here but I thought he’d...that he’d just fallen asleep... It was just before I turned into the car park...’

      ‘Should I go and get a resus trolley?’

      It was a nurse he knew very well who was asking the question. Harriet Collins worked in the intensive care unit but she was also a founding member of the Specialist Disaster Response team that was a big part of Blake’s life as well.

      Blake had filled the baby’s lungs with air again and lifted his head to answer Harriet as he started another set of compressions but then he paused for a second. He could feel the difference beneath his hands. The tension of muscles contracting as the baby took a breath on its own.

      And then another.

      Blake got to his feet with the baby still in his arms. ‘No trolley,’ he told Harriet. ‘The sooner we get inside the better.’

      He was already taking off, heading towards the nearest entrance to the emergency department through the ambulance bay. He could have this baby in their well-equipped resuscitation area in less than a minute if he ran.

      He heard the despairing wail of the baby’s mother behind him but Harriet was onto it. A swift glance back showed her putting an arm around the still terrified mother’s shoulders. ‘Come with us,’ he heard her say. ‘Dr Cooper knows what he’s doing, I promise. He’s the best...’

      He also heard the mother’s response.

      ‘But he doesn’t even look like a doctor...’

      * * *

      ‘So this is your first day here, dear?’

      ‘Yes, it is, Mrs Henderson.’

      ‘Oh, call me Dottie, dear. Everyone does, you know.’

      ‘Okay, Dottie.’

      Samantha Braithwaite smiled at her elderly patient then shifted her gaze to run a practised eye over the drip rate of the IV fluids. She moved the little plastic wheel with her thumb a fraction. The saline drip was only up to keep a vein open—Dottie wasn’t hypotensive or dehydrated.

      ‘Is it your first job as a nurse?’

      ‘Oh, no...just my first day here at Bondi Bayside Hospital. I’m very excited.’

      ‘It’s a lovely hospital.’

      ‘It is. Maybe you’ll get a view of the beach from your room when you’re up on the ward. I had a tour a while ago with my friend, Harriet. She works in Intensive Care and she told me about the job coming up here. I couldn’t wait to apply for it.’

      ‘It must be a very exciting place to work, here in Emergency. But you’re going to see all manner of dreadful things.’ Faded blue eyes were full of concern. ‘Are you sure that’s right for you? I’m sure I couldn’t do it.’

      Sam’s smile was reassuring now. ‘I’ve worked in Emergency for years now, Dottie. At other hospitals in Sydney. I love it. Yes, you can see some dreadful things but it’s exciting, too. We get to save lives quite often.’

      ‘And here I am holding up a bed with not an ounce of excitement to offer.’

      ‘You’re a treasure.’ Sam squeezed Dottie’s hand. ‘Are you comfortable? I can arrange some more pain relief for you.’

      ‘No...it’s fine as long as I don’t move. The pillows are helping.’ Dottie sighed. ‘I can’t believe I’ve been stupid enough to break my hip. You’d think I would have learned to watch my step after ninety-odd years of practice, wouldn’t you?’

      ‘These things happen. You’re not at all stupid. I’d say you’re as bright as a button.’

      Sam knew she should be moving on to check patients in the adjoining cubicles that had been assigned to her but she knew they were all low acuity, like the homeless guy who was sleeping off last night’s alcohol and the teenager who was being monitored to make sure that his blood sugar levels were stable again. But they had buzzers they could use if they needed assistance urgently and there was something in Dottie’s tone that told her how anxious this particular patient was. That she needed more of Sam’s attention.

      ‘Is there anyone I can call that could come and keep you company? A family member or a friend?’

      ‘No...my friends are all in the home, now. I’ll see them when I get back.’

      ‘Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable?’

      ‘A cup of tea would be lovely...and maybe a gingernut?’

      ‘I’m sorry, Dottie. You’re nil by mouth at the moment because we’re waiting to take you up to Theatre for your operation.’

      Yes...that was a flash of real fear in her patient’s eyes. Sam squeezed her hand again and this time, she didn’t let go.

      ‘I’m quite sure that you’ll be fine,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s a straightforward procedure