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This is where things should have been weird and messy between us. But somehow, we just ignored the fact that my ex-wife was marrying her ex-husband. We’d talked about it once and decided to never talk about it again. Not that it was awkward, mostly because she didn’t want there to be an us and a them.
Qu
incy Cavendish had always been the peacemaker. We’d known each other from birth. Her brother had been one of my best friends. He’d been one of the best men at mine and Jenna’s wedding, before he got blown up by a landmine in Angola. He’d gone to help with the Yellow Fever outbreak and ended up in pieces. That’s life for you.
Phillip had been a brother to me and every time I looked at Quincy, I could see him. Well, a beautiful and dainty copy of him with blue eyes instead of the yellowish brown of his and marginally fairer skin.
“I’m out of here at three, tops. I’ve already had Jenna on the phone this morning.”
She laughed, “Yeah, Richard said she’d already told Mrs. Frost to reserve the front row. Do you think that’s why the girls always get the crappy parts?”
“I reckon she gets a kick out of making Jenna squirm. I can’t blame her.”
“I wish she wouldn’t use the girls for that. Want to share a cab?”
“Yes and yes.” I slammed my locker door shut. “I’ll meet you back here at half two. Keep your phone on loud, I’ll check in with you during my break.”
“I have rounds at ten, but they’re all pretty straight forward. I was actually planning on monitoring the Spencer baby today. I have this feeling…” She paused staring blankly at the vinyl flooring for a moment before she looked up at me from tying her laces.
She had that forlorn look in her eyes. It was this echoing sadness that cut through the brightness in her light blue eyes. It made my chest ache, and at the same time it took my breath away because, Jesus, even in her sadness she was strikingly pretty. Stunning actually.
“You’ve done everything you can. Now it’s up to the little guy.”
“I know, it’s just…you know.”
“I do.” I stood in the doorway as I took a good look at her, hoping she was doing okay. “Keep that phone on loud.”
I should’ve known that the moment I’d acknowledged how quiet the hospital was it would have me eating every single thought of getting out of here on time. It’d all started out so well. My surgery had gone without a glitch.
Cutting open a child was the bane of my life. For one, it made me think of my own. I pictured her. It was the sort of pressure that would probably put others off, but it just made me work harder. It made me work faster. It made my hands that much more precise. It also made me think of all the life that was right at my fingertips.
The moment that tumour was out, it was like I could breathe again because that little girl would eventually be able to walk again, she’d be able to feed herself and draw and dance, like my own. It was the kind of high I was addicted to.
I’d closed up earlier than anticipated and I’d almost finished the paperwork when the page came.
“Fuck, not today.” I shoved my phone back in my trouser pocket and ran out of my office.
My stethoscope and heart clashed with one another as I raced to A&E. I ran through doors and still empty corridors. I hated emergency pages. The adrenaline rush was nothing like you could replicate with extreme sports, but that initial panic that launched you into action…fuck. I always wondered how the life expectancy of a surgeon wasn’t a lot lower than your average John.
I took the stairs down, jumping two steps at a time.
I slammed my ID onto the security reader. Nothing. Again. Red light. Again. I yanked on the Paediatric A&E’s door as I rung the buzzer. I knew it was pointless.
“You need to get that fixed.” Quincy knocked my hand out of the way and instantly the door released.
“Thanks.” I called out behind me as I raced to the reception desk. “What’s going on?”
“Parents have brought toddler in with suspected concussion. Two-year-old, clean file. Mr. Cooper evaluated him, however the patient has since vomited. He’s irritable and drowsy.”
“Right, CT?”
“Richard said it was an obvious concussion. The family’s been here for over four hours, nothing else happened. We were just waiting on the discharge papers.” Beth sighed.
“Well, can we get that scan A-SAP. I don’t care who’s in front, the child gets priority.” I signed the request she put in front of me. “Where’s Richard?”
“He said something about having the afternoon off. This was his last case.”
“Get me that scan, Beth. I’ll go check on the patient.”
