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‘Any sign of a phone?’ Joe, the EMT, asked. The next decisions should be down to his family, which meant they needed to track down his next of kin.
‘Hang on.’ Liv reached gingerly into Finn’s deep coat pocket. Again, the weirdest thing, to think she had been standing next to him – gazing into his eyes… yes, she could admit it, gazing at him only a few hours earlier and now, here she was rifling through his belongings. ‘I have it,’ she said, slipping the phone out easily. It was one of those finger recognition ones. She touched his finger to it. Bingo. She tapped in ICE, hoping there would be a contact number there that would make this easier. Nothing. ‘Damn,’ she said.
‘Okay, love,’ the older EMT said. ‘We’re on the move.’ He began to unclamp the bed so they could transfer him to radiology.
‘There’s no emergency contact,’ she said, but they weren’t listening to her. Instead, she was shepherded out of their way while they got on with bringing Finn O’Connell in to get him seen to as quickly as they could.
‘Try the last call he’s made or received,’ the younger of the men called to her.
‘Of course,’ she said. The last call was to a woman called Estelle – not M, so? She thought of that expensively wrapped little box and dialled the number for Estelle.
‘Hey, Finn.’ The voice was young on the other side, probably twenties, breathy and obviously happy to hear from this phone.
‘Hello, Estelle?’
‘Yes, sorry, who is this? I thought…’
‘No. It’s okay.’ Actually, it wasn’t, but it’s what you said, wasn’t it? ‘My name is Liv Latimer. I’m ringing you on Finn’s phone. He’s been in an accident and I’m trying to track down his next of kin. Can you tell me if…’
‘Finn. Oh no, is he all right? Where is he? When did it happen? How…’ There was the usual, understandable barrage of questions, the inability to wait for answers – it wasn’t the first time Liv had to make a call like this.
‘It’s okay. He’s here at St Columbanus’s hospital. He’s in the very best of hands. I was next to him when it happened. I’m a nurse here in A&E. I was just coming off duty when…’
‘Oh, thank God. But how is he? Is he going to be all right?’
‘It’s too early to say; he’s just going down for a scan now,’ Liv said, keeping the details light. She could tell Estelle the rest when she arrived to be with him. ‘He really is in the best of hands. Are you his wife?’
‘Huh? No. I mean, we’re not…’ Estelle stopped for a moment. ‘That is, we’re…’
‘Are you his next of kin?’ Liv had to ask directly, because for all she knew, this woman might be his cleaner… or his mistress. She eyed the bag that she’d dropped down on the floor next to Finn O’Connell’s gurney. He’d spent a lot of money, probably, on a gift for M. And Estelle was certainly not an M!
‘I’m on my way now,’ Estelle was saying on the other end of the line. ‘Don’t worry; I’ll let everyone know who needs to. Just take care of him for me.’ And then, she ended the call and Liv was left staring at her phone, not quite sure what to do next.
‘Oh. Thank God, Liv, you’re here.’ Francine looked like she’d aged about a decade in the little over an hour since she’d seen her last. ‘How are you? Have you been checked out? Are you…?’
‘I’m fine, really, not even a scratch,’ Liv said although her legs still felt wobbly and she could feel nerves jangling on ends that she’d never noticed before, but that was just shock – nothing compared to what had happened to Finn. Even beyond herself though, there was no missing the fact that the Emergency Department had filled up considerably since she’d left; there was no mistaking the fact that her colleagues were under pressure. ‘Anyway, I’m here now, I might as well stay on if you need an extra pair of hands.’ She would have to change back into her uniform; it was definitely all hands on deck for the rest of the night. ‘I was there when it happened. The motorcyclist?’ She looked towards one of the junior doctors who’d just popped his head through the curtains.
‘It’s cuts and bruises mostly; he’ll be aching for a few weeks, at worst a couple of cracked ribs,’ the doctor said, then he looked towards the empty space where Finn O’Connell had just been moved from.
‘He’s just gone for a scan,’ and when she looked at her watch, she realised at least at this time of the morning, there wasn’t too much hanging about – it was too early for day appointments and too late for drunks to clog the place up. All they could do now was hope for the best.
*
It was less than an hour later when a nurse called Maxine told Liv there was a girl looking for her at the desk, but it seemed as if time had been fractured in some strange way, as if she was somehow working outside the normal confines – it was shock, she was pretty sure about that.
‘Liv?’ the girl asked. She was no more than twenty-four, strikingly pretty, red hair, cherub lips and skin that looked as if it was made of porcelain – she was five eleven if she was an inch, willowy, more than thin. A model?
‘Hi,’ Liv said and smiled at the girl. ‘Estelle?’ She realised this could only be Estelle – because she would absolutely remember meeting this girl otherwise.
‘Yes. I’m Estelle. I’m here to see Finn,’ she said and there was no mistaking the worry that hung about her.
‘He’s…’ Liv checked her watch again. ‘At the moment, he’s down at radiology, but he should be back up at any minute.’ She bit her lip, God, she hoped he was all right. She hadn’t mentioned his cardiac event on the phone, feeling she’d imparted enough bad news for one conversation. ‘They’re doing a CT scan.’ She saw the girl’s eyes widen. ‘Don’t worry, that’s normal. He was struck by a motorbike.’ She didn’t need to know all the details – the sickening thud, saving Liv and the fact that he was thrown so far into the road. She didn’t need to hear about the blood at his ear and the fact that the CT scan was all about checking to see if there was a brain aneurysm. Liv shivered. The last time she’d prayed so hard for anyone was… Rachel. ‘We just have to make sure that there’s no internal bleeding. It’s not painful and he’ll be transferred back up to A&E then, hopefully.’
‘Hopefully?’
‘Yes.’ Hopefully he wouldn’t need surgery and there was no point mentioning intensive care just yet. With a little luck, Finn O’Connell would have gotten off as lightly as the motorcyclist, although, deep down, Liv knew that he probably wasn’t going to be as lucky.
‘So, where do I go?’ the girl asked and Liv wondered if she was even twenty-four – she sounded about twelve now; she reached out and put her arm around the girl’s shoulder.
