His Longed-For Baby. Josie Metcalfe

him,’ the young woman reported briskly, referring to the notes on her clipboard. ‘But he’d been trapped in his seat by the steering-wheel when the whole front of his vehicle collapsed towards him. While he was being cut out of the vehicle we put him on oxygen and got an IV in, but as soon as we removed him he started to crash.’

      ‘Hypovolaemic shock,’ Maggie heard Jake mutter as she stepped aside while the patient was transferred with the backboard and cervical collar still in place. The young man was certainly showing all the classic signs of severe blood loss.

      ‘Also increasing difficulty in breathing,’ the paramedic continued seamlessly. ‘There was no sign of a penetrating wound into the chest, so I went with the probability that his lung had been pierced by a broken rib.’

      The needle protruding from the midaxillary line of the fourth intercostal space looked surreal under the stark white lighting, especially with a flaccid condom taped to it as a makeshift flutter valve.

      ‘What were his vital signs once his lung reinflated?’ Jake demanded as the radiographer positioned the first X-ray cassette under their patient’s neck.

      ‘Pulse and breathing both a little rapid, but fear of asphyxia will do that to anyone,’ the paramedic added wryly as she handed over the notes that would form part of the patient’s case history and collected her equipment. ‘My vehicle should be restocked and ready to roll by now. No doubt I’ll be seeing you again soon. It’s a mess out there.’

      ‘Can somebody find out if there’s space in Theatre?’ Jake asked urgently, not needing to look up from what he was doing to know that his request would receive immediate attention with a rapid phone call. ‘Maggie, get over here quick and get another line in. He needs more blood. It must be more than his lung. If there’s no room in Theatre we might have to open his chest down here.’

      Almost as if he’d given the cue, several sets of monitoring equipment started sounding out their various warnings even as Maggie started manually pumping another unit of blood.

      ‘He’s crashing again!’ she exclaimed, reading the display charting pulse and blood pressure. ‘Where’s the anaesthetist?’ She handed over her task to the nearest pair of willing hands and grabbed the sealed tray thrust towards her. Even as she ripped off the protective cover to reveal the set of sterile equipment, the door swung open to admit the hurrying anaesthetist.

      It was like a well-oiled machine. Each of the members of the team performed their part of the job, with items of equipment appearing almost before Jake could ask. With the speed of experience, the chest and upper abdomen were swiftly swabbed to minimise the risk of infection, and after a brief pause for the anaesthetist to nod that the patient was ready Jake was applying the scalpel in a midline incision.

      Maggie had suction ready for the moment he opened up the body cavity, but she was horrified by the amount of blood filling the visual field.

      ‘Has the heart been pierced, or is it the aorta?’ she asked, her words almost hidden by the continuing sound of suction as she tried to clear enough away for Jake to see what had happened.

      ‘Aorta,’ he said succinctly, reaching into the cavity to find out exactly how extensive the damage was. ‘Not too bad,’ he conceded after a moment. ‘Puncture rather than dissection.’

      ‘But bad enough that we’re having trouble maintaining enough pressure to keep him alive,’ the anaesthetist butted in tersely.

      ‘In other words, get on with it?’ Jake challenged without looking away from his task, but Maggie could still see the familiar gleam of determination in his eyes that appeared every time he knew he had a fight on his hands.

      Knowing that time was of the essence if the young man was to survive, she could only look on in admiration at the speed with which Jake effected a workable repair, concentrating on stabilising their patient so that he would survive the trip up to Theatre.

      ‘Pressure’s better!’ the anaesthetist reported. ‘Not great, but better.’

      In the background, Maggie heard the phone ring.

      ‘That was Liam Blake,’ a female voice called a moment later. ‘There’s a table free in Theatre, if you’re ready for it.’

      Maggie felt a swift jolt at the unexpected mention of her ex-fiancé’s name and a wash of heat over her cheeks at the sudden silence that told her that the rest of her colleagues had suddenly remembered that neither she nor Liam should have been at the hospital. This should have been their wedding day.

      ‘Is he good enough to go?’ Jake asked, deferring to the overriding expertise of the man at the head of the table. ‘I’d rather not mess about with him any more down here if I can help it, especially with a cardiothoracic surgeon available.’

      ‘A.s.a.p.!’ the anaesthetist said with feeling as he systematically disconnected the various leads connecting their patient to the main life-support and monitoring systems, immediately reconnecting them to the portable system that would maintain him until he reached Theatre.

      Even as the doors were closing behind him, they were pushed open by the next trolley, with a second following closely behind.

      ‘There isn’t going to be time to breathe today,’ muttered one of the nurses as she dodged around the paramedic directing the transfer of their next patient, frantically clearing the detritus from the previous one.

      ‘Maggie,’ Lina Mackey called from the doorway, beckoning her over with a flustered expression on her usually calm face.

      ‘Problem?’ Maggie asked, puzzled to find herself drawn out into the corridor.

      ‘I’m so sorry!’ the woman exclaimed, almost wringing her hands. ‘I’d completely forgotten that you’re getting married today or I’d never have called you in. You should be getting ready for the ceremony…having your hair done or something.’

      ‘It’s not a problem,’ Maggie soothed, half of her attention on the sudden burst of staccato instructions that told her Jake had another problem patient on his hands. Everything inside her wanted to return to the room to do her part in taking care of the patients. She didn’t have the time or the inclination to explain the shambles of her private life when there were more important things to do.

      ‘But…what about your wedding?’ Lina demanded. ‘This could go on for hours. You could be stuck here—’

      ‘Honestly,’ Maggie interrupted, the sound of Jake’s muttered curse so clear that she knew the rest of the team must be able to hear every word being said outside the door…they were probably all but falling over in their efforts to hear more clearly. ‘It’s not a problem, Lina. I can stay as long as I’m needed.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘There isn’t going to be a wedding,’ she blurted, then had to stifle a groan when a nearby gasp drew her eyes and she recognised the avid gaze of one of the biggest gossips in the whole department.

      ‘Oh, Maggie, I’m so sorry,’ Lina said as she patted her arm, but whether it was in support for her cancelled wedding or the fact that her private business would shortly be spread far and wide, Maggie wasn’t certain.

      ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said with a weak attempt at a smile, and leant her shoulder against the swing door as she backed away from the encounter. ‘Just be pleased that I was available to come in today and keep wheeling the patients through.’

      Maggie had been prepared to be the focus of at least one pair of eyes when the door slapped shut behind her, but everyone seemed to be concentrating on what they were doing, far too busy to even have noticed that there was a conversation going on outside the room. Then she realised with a wash of embarrassment that there was an almost unearthly silence hanging over a room that would normally have been a babble of orders, requests and the odd quip, and knew that she was the reason.

      ‘I call it true dedication,’ Jake muttered, just loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear, even though they were pretending not to listen,