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‘I’ll direct them in,’ Angela said, removing her gloves.

Charlie was a hundred metres away when the ambulance whizzed passed him, its siren blaring, and braked outside the drop-in centre. He threw his sandwich in a nearby bin and ran. What the hell had happened?

He skidded to a halt as Angela emerged from the centre. ‘What happened?’ he demanded.

‘Gunshot wound to the abdomen,’ Angela told him calmly.

‘Carrie?’

Angela nodded. ‘Handled it like a pro.’ She turned to brief the paramedics walking with them inside as she spoke.

He burst into the treatment room. Carrie had her back to the door and a stethoscope in her ears and didn’t hear him enter.

Charlie touched her shoulder. ‘Carrie?’

She turned. ‘Oh…hi. Blood pressure’s up to one hundred,’ she said, diverting her gaze from Charlie’s worried face to the paramedics striding through the door.

Charlie stood back and watched in awe as Carrie gave a concise handover. ‘I think he’s just a scoop and go, guys. He’s going to need Theatre, stat. He’s actively bleeding in there somewhere.’

Five minutes later they had the patient loaded and were departing. Angela, Charlie and Carrie watched it disappear from view.

‘Good job, Dr Douglas,’ Angela said as she turned and headed back into the clinic.

Carrie stared after her, open-mouthed. Dr Douglas?

Charlie whistled. ‘High praise, indeed, Dr Douglas.’

Carrie shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight as she looked up into his face. It seemed she had come full circle in Angela’s eyes. In Charlie’s eyes. She had earned her stripes. Earned herself the right to the title Doctor. She had saved the teenager’s life.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

Carrie thought about it for a moment. Remarkably, she was. In fact, the thrill of having taken control and saved her patient’s life was elating. Pushing papers around a desk never gave her this kind of buzz. She nodded. ‘Yes, I am, actually. I haven’t felt this OK for a long time.’

Charlie smiled. He lifted his hand and stroked his knuckles down her cheek. He pulled her into his shoulder for a lingering hug. ‘Come on,’ he said, his arm around her as he moved inside. ‘You’d better go and change your shirt.’

Carrie looked down and noticed a blood stain the size of a grapefruit on her silky purple blouse. She should have worn an apron.

‘I can help you with that if you like,’ he murmured.

Carrie smiled and then stopped, her euphoria fading as she remembered that she was about to put Charlie out of business. ‘Thanks. I can manage.’

Carrie opened the staffroom door and wandered over to the table. Her laptop hummed quietly, a stack of papers waiting for her attention next to it. She picked the top sheet up and looked at it. A bank reconciliation.

‘Here you go,’ Charlie said from halfway down the hallway. ‘It’s not silk and it’ll be miles too big, but it’ll do.’

Carrie accepted the shirt without even glancing at it. She sat down at the table.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked. She was quiet suddenly and seemed pensive. Was it a delayed reaction? Was she about to hyperventilate?

‘I don’t want to do this any more.’ Carrie picked up another sheet of paper and tossed it in the air. She wished she hadn’t taken this job. But, then, she never would have met Charlie. Never would have had her eyes open to the fact that she was doctor. Not a manager.

Charlie’s eyes followed the lazy fall of the paper. What did she mean? ‘Careful. I know the lady that owns them and they’re probably in order.’

Carrie smiled. ‘It felt amazing just now. I mean, I was terrified to start with, I was frantic to have you by my side, but…we were it. Me and Angela. And I couldn’t let another boy die. And it all came back to me.’

‘It wasn’t your fault, Carrie. The other boy. He was taken away from the hospital before you had a chance to examine him properly.’

She nodded. ‘I know that…I do, really, but…I’ve had that image of him in my head for so long now. The white sheets…the red blood…his dead-looking eyes. But today’s changed everything. I have a new image. Of me. As a doctor. I know I certainly can’t go back to this.’ Carrie placed her hand on the paperwork.

Charlie felt a surge of relief wash over him. He’d always known there was a doctor inside her, fighting to get out. ‘Bravo.’ He smiled. ‘I know a certain drop-in centre that desperately needs a female doctor. Especially one who’s good with figures.’

Carrie felt her heart slam against her ribs. Her fingers felt dead and heavy suddenly against the pile of paper. He had offered her something she’d wanted since childhood and had convinced herself it hadn’t mattered that she hadn’t had it—a gig in community medicine.

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