‘H…hello, Jack,’ stumbled Laura.

‘Laura. I’ve been worried about you.’ Standing before her, he felt his heart lurch. He wanted her. So much. Too much.

‘Can I come in?’

As he stared intently into her eyes, some part of him, somewhere deep in his psyche, knew why she had come. Knew that if he stood aside a chain of events would be started that he mightn’t be able to control. The first domino would fall.

There was silence as he watched her warily. She was looking at him with an openness she hadn’t used since that night ten years ago. Time failed to progress. Clocks didn’t exist in the world they now found themselves in.

He couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘What now, Laura?’

‘Make love to me, Jack.’

As a twelve-year-old, Amy Andrews used to sneak off with her mother’s romance novels and devour every page. She was the type of kid who daydreamed a lot and carried a cast of thousands around in her head, and from quite an early age she knew that it was her destiny to write. So, in between her duties as wife and mother, her paid job as a paediatric intensive care nurse and her compulsive habit to volunteer, she did just that! Amy Andrews lives in Brisbane’s beautiful Samford Valley with her very wonderful and patient husband, two gorgeous kids, a couple of black Labradors and six chooks.

Recent titles by the same author:

THE MIDWIFE’S MIRACLE BABY

Earthquake Baby

Amy Andrews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO ALL THOSE

AT THE COAL FACE OF RESCUE WORK.

WHAT YOU DO IS TRULY HEROIC.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER ONE

LAURA’S legs struggled to keep pace with the bed as it was wheeled quickly down the corridor that led from Intensive Care to the operating theatres. The monitor alarms shrilled continuously as the patient’s heart rate climbed higher.

Laura squeezed the black bag attached to the patient’s breathing tube, administering lungfuls of air to the unconscious, critically ill patient. If he didn’t get to Theatre soon, he would die.

She handed over the bag in one smooth movement to the anaesthetic nurse and the surgical team whisked him through the swing doors. They shut firmly, blocking Laura’s view. She crossed her fingers as she walked back down the corridor with the other members of the team who had helped her prepare Mr Reid for his operation. Their thoughts were with him.

‘How’s it looking?’ asked Marie Prior, the unit’s clinical nurse consultant, as she approached.

‘Not good,’ admitted Laura.

‘Mr Reid’s deterioration wasn’t totally out of left field. He’s lucky you picked up the signs early.’

‘It was a close call, Marie. Too close,’ said Laura, feeling depleted now the adrenaline rush had ebbed.

‘Let’s go have a coffee. Come and meet the new psychiatrist. He’s doing today’s debriefing session.’

Great, Laura thought. Just what she needed!

‘He’s cute,’ Marie cajoled. Laura’s reluctance to participate in such activities was legendary.

‘Bunny rabbits are cute,’ Laura said, completely disinterested in checking out the new kid on the block. ‘But I do need a coffee, so I’ll go. But I’m not talking about my feelings or how I was a deprived child.’

The psychobabble she could do without. Laura’s privacy was too important and, while she recognised that debriefing was essential in her working environment, she preferred to do so casually among the other staff. She dreaded these monthly sessions and avoided them where possible.

‘What’s his name anyway?’

‘John Riley. Dr John Riley.’

An errant, traitorous brain cell kicked into life. Her heart quickened for a few beats before she consciously quelled the disturbing activity taking over her body. John. Not Jack. Goodness, it had been ten years and still just the mention of a similar name was enough to stir parts of her anatomy only he had stirred. Anyway, her Jack Riley was a surgeon, not a shrink.

Her thoughts wandered to Isaac. He was the only man in her life now. She felt the warmth of her love for him flow through her. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ten minutes later Laura was relaxed, enjoying the playful banter in the staffroom. She had almost forgotten about the sudden turn of events that had sent her relatively stable patient to Theatre. Almost forgotten about the highly stressful period they had all just endured. Not a bed to spare. One patient left and there was barely enough time to clean the bed area before another took their place.

Marie entered the room carrying a steaming mug, chatting amicably with a man following close behind. It was difficult to see him properly. His head was blocked from her view but Laura got the impression of height and bulk. She had chosen her seat carefully. Crammed in beside the bookcase, it hid her to a certain extent. From where the guest speaker’s chair was positioned it would be difficult to see all of her unless she leant forward.

Marie quickly hushed the group and introduced her guest.

‘Everyone, I’d like you to meet Dr John Riley. He’s St Jude’s new Director of Psychiatry.’

Everyone nodded and smiled and murmured their interest.

‘Actually, John’s a bit formal.’ His cheerful voice resonated around the room. ‘Most people call me Jack.’

Laura’s heart stopped. For one dreadful moment she thought she was having a cardiac arrest. That voice. It couldn’t be him. Could it? Marie sat down and afforded Laura a full view of his face. Oh, no! It was him! She looked again, and her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Same olive skin. Same dark hair clipped close to his head. Same brown eyes framed by incredibly long lashes. Dark, soft, compassionate. She watched, fascinated despite herself, as he dug his teeth into his bottom lip and smiled at what somebody was saying.

Same sexy, full lips. The same lips she had kissed softly for the last time ten years ago. Kissed as she had got out of his bed and walked out of his life. He was a psychiatrist now? What had happened to surgery?

‘Well, I thought to start off, you might like to introduce yourselves and maybe tell me a little something about your lives.’

Laura watched, her thought processes frozen as people relaxed under his friendly, interested gaze. Somebody cracked a joke and Jack laughed. It was a comforting noise, gently blanketing the room.

Laura knew how that felt. It made you feel safe. Like being cocooned in a blanket on a cold and rainy night. He had made her feel like that. Safe. Reassured.

There were only two more people to go before those eyes would be focussing on her. Laura’s mind was in a total dither. She wanted to run but felt incapable of breathing, let alone anything involving major muscle groups.

She had changed a little, sure, in ten years. A different hairstyle, a few kilos lighter. But it was futile to think that he would not remember her. She wasn’t flattering herself. They had shared a momentous, life-changing experience. For a brief period, ten years ago, he had been her lifeline. A superficial change in physical appearance could not obliterate that.

All he had to do was glance out the corner of his eye and he would see her, but he was much too professional for that. His gaze and attention was one hundred per cent fixed on the person who was talking. They had his complete and undivided attention. She tried to sink further from view.

‘Ah…one in every crowd,’ he joked. ‘Something to hide?’ Jack shifted in his chair to get a better view of the staff member beside the bookcase.

He recognised her immediately. Felt his eyes widen as shock and disbelief engulfed his body.

‘Laura?’ The question rasped from his throat.

The laughter in the room subsided as speculation and curiosity took hold.

‘You two know each other?’ Marie asked.

Jack did not answer. He was speechless. It was her…really her. After ten years of wondering…wishing. Here she was. In front of him.

A little different maybe, considering the last time he had seen her she’d been naked and sated beside him. He remembered his dissatisfaction on waking to find that she had left some time in the night. It felt like yesterday.

There were so many things he wanted to ask, to know. His mind crowded with questions, each more urgent than the previous one. How she was and what had she been doing and why the hell had she left him like that? He had wanted to hold her some more, talk some more, make love some more.

When Marie had talked about a Laura, it hadn’t occurred to him that it would be her. His Laura. He had given up reacting to the name years before.

He watched as her eyes widened and he read the plea expressed in their blue depths. Please, don’t reveal me.

‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘We go back a bit.’

He was rewarded with a look of such gratitude he forgave himself the little white lie. Good grief, he thought. They don’t know. These people, her colleagues, don’t know who she is or what she’s been through. How had she managed that?

‘Well…’ He cleared his throat. ‘We must catch up…later.’

‘Mmm.’ Laura nodded.

She listened but did not hear any of the group debrief session. Her thoughts whizzed chaotically around her head at a million miles an hour. It was him. Jack. It was really him!

The same Jack who had occupied too many waking and nearly all her sleeping hours for a decade. What was she going to do? She couldn’t think. The beginnings of a headache crawled across her temples.

Somebody laughed loudly, jarring across Laura’s taut nerves. She had to admire Jack’s skill. He had a knack at drawing people out. The stresses of the last few weeks had affected everyone. It was his job to be their pressure valve, allowing the steam to escape. Ease the tension.

Patients and situations were openly discussed, putting them into perspective. Unlike her, the people she worked with were much more open to this form of communication. They felt it helped and Laura knew, in reality, that these sessions were invaluable. But circumstances had given her a few coping strategies of her own.

‘What about you, Laura?’

‘Huh?’ she asked belatedly, becoming aware of people looking expectantly at her.

‘Marie was saying that you were looking after Mr Reid when he tried to clock out today.’

‘Yes.’

‘How do you feel about that?’

Still shrouded in the mental fog of disbelief, she groped around for a generic answer he couldn’t analyse too much.

‘Concerned.’

‘Is that all?’

For God’s sake, she wanted to yell, stop talking to me. Leave me be. I need to get my head around this. ‘Worried for his family.’ She shrugged.

‘You don’t seem very concerned or worried.’ Jack observed. Brown eyes watched her carefully from below long lashes.

‘Oh?’ That’s because all I can think about now is you!

Silence filled the space between them. Laura just wanted to get away. She didn’t want to indulge in a philosophical debate. She wanted to be gone.

Jack finally spoke. ‘He was a long-term patient. He looked like he’d turned the corner. Surely his setback was a shock?’

‘This is an intensive care unit. People are critically ill. Sometimes they get worse before they get better.’ Now his persistence was really irking her.

‘Sometimes they don’t get better.’

‘Sometimes.’

Jack read her body language loud and clear. Arms crossed, legs crossed, back erect. Subject closed. She didn’t want to talk about it. He wondered how often she did that. Laura had been through a major trauma ten years ago. The emotional baggage from that, mixed with a high-stress work environment, was not a good combination. She was a prime candidate for burnout.

She was thinner than he remembered. Her blue eyes still troubled. He wished he’d known her when they had sparkled with life and fun. Before the terrible events of Newvalley. Before they had mirrored the part of her spirit that had died in the tragic building collapse.

Laura was saved further scrutiny by Marie who came to the rescue, diverting his attention with a question. She gulped air into suffocating lungs. His shrewd gaze weighing her up had felt as restrictive as bricks against her chest. No doubt he had been analysing her every word, every gesture.

Five minutes later a beeper rang out, interrupting the conversation. Jack pulled it off his belt, checking the message.

‘I’m sorry, folks, I have to take this call.’

‘Use the phone in my office,’ Marie offered. ‘Across the hall.’

Seeing her chance to escape, Laura stood, ignoring the speculative looks from her colleagues. Her shift finished in fifteen minutes but she was sure no one would begrudge her knocking off now. Just a quick word to the afternoon staff about Mr Reid and she was out of here. Too much had happened today—confronting a ghost from her past was beyond her.

Laura grabbed her bag from her locker. She just wanted to get away from the hospital. St Jude’s had been her sanctuary for the last eight years. Suddenly it didn’t feel safe here either. Jack Riley’s presence caused too many complications.

She pushed the lift button. It arrived promptly and she got in.

‘Hold the lift, please,’ a voice commanded, followed closely by a big hand preventing the doors’ closure.

‘Laura.’ His brown eyes smiled gently.

‘Hello, Jack.’ Her earlier testiness dissolved as the years melted away.

He took her hand and squeezed it. They stood quite close in the small lift, looking at their joined hands. Her slim, pale one in stark contrast to his, large and tanned. There was so much to say. Where to begin?

‘It’s nice to see you again.’ His voice was husky. ‘Can we go somewhere and talk?’

‘I’m really tired.’ She needed time to think.

He lifted her chin. Yes, she looked done in. He yearned to embrace her. ‘Please.’

‘OK.’ She sighed. ‘But not the canteen.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘Gossip.’

He raised the other eyebrow.

‘Oh, come on, Jack. You know what a hospital’s like! The grapevine will already be working overtime with what happened in the staffroom.’

‘Let them talk.’ He shrugged.

‘No. Attention is one thing I don’t need,’ she said, and marched out of the doors as they opened onto the foyer.

Laura steamed ahead, leading Jack to the deserted area around the staff pool. It was a cool, peaceful haven set in the beautifully landscaped grounds of St Jude’s. She sat down at one of the shady, poolside tables, removed her sunglasses and watched him sit down opposite her.

It was a strange moment. Despite brimming with questions, neither seemed to know how or where to start. For now, Laura was content to just be near him as decade-old memories were rekindled. The good as well as the bad.

‘Laura…how…how have you been?’ He reached for her hand and she allowed him to take it.

‘OK.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’ She laughed. ‘Really.’

‘Any nightmares? Flashbacks?’

‘The first two years were rough but…I’ve been good since.’

‘That’s great.’

‘I’m over it, Jack. It’s behind me. I’ve got on with my life.’

‘Yes, but it doesn’t ever really go away. Does it?’

‘Sure it does.’

‘You must let me in on your coping strategies.’

Laura looked at the doubt etched on his face. He could think what he liked. She was over it. She was.

‘So, what have you been up to?’ asked Jack.

‘Nothing much. Working…living…’

‘Is that it?’

No, she wanted to say. I’ve had your baby and raised him for the past nine years. My life has been very full. She wanted to thank him for such a precious gift. But she was silent. She couldn’t just dump something like this in his lap.

She needed to know if his attitude towards having children had changed. She needed to know him better before deciding whether or not to break the news.

Ten years ago her decision to keep their son a secret from him had been clear-cut. It hadn’t been easy, and the importance of her decision had weighed heavily on her. But she’d done the right thing. She had been sure of that. Still, his reappearance in her life clouded the issue again. Had it been the right decision?

‘Pretty much,’ she answered. ‘How about you? I thought you were off to Adelaide to become a hotshot surgeon. When did you become a shrink?’

He was silent as he searched for the right words. ‘After Newvalley, I found it difficult to get back into everyday life—you know what I mean?’

Laura nodded. She knew exactly what he meant.

‘I did go to Adelaide and I even stuck it out for a year, but, well…my heart wasn’t really in it. Surgery had been my passion and then suddenly it seemed so insignificant. Being involved in that rescue effort where so many people died…’

They were both silent for a few moments, reflecting on the lives that had been lost when the earthquake had hit and the parts they had played in the dreadful tragedy. It had been a major catastrophe for Australia, making news headlines for weeks.

‘It was totally life-changing. It made me reassess my whole direction,’ said Jack.

Laura nodded again. She understood. Her life now seemed to be separated into two different parts. Before the earthquake and after the earthquake. She was not the same girl as she had been in those years and moments before the earth had shaken and the building had tumbled down around her.

He closed his eyes. ‘I thought I was losing it for a while. I couldn’t sleep and when I did I’d have nightmares. I felt on edge and irritable. I couldn’t concentrate properly on my work and that’s scary when you’re wielding a scalpel! And I wasn’t the one who’d been trapped… I don’t know how you’ve stayed sane all these years, Laura.’

‘I had help,’ she said.

‘So did I, actually. And that’s when I knew I wanted to become a psychiatrist. So I studied people’s minds instead of their anatomies. And here I am today.’

‘Here you are,’ she whispered, and squeezed his hand.

‘So.’ He lifted her left hand and inspected it. ‘No wedding ring.’

‘No.’ She smiled. ‘Never married.’

‘C’mon Laura, they must be lining up! You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,’ he said gently, as he brushed his fingers through her fringe.

She closed her eyes and shrugged. ‘What about you? No wedding band either?’

‘Divorced.’

Laura felt her eyes widen as she sat more upright. He had been married! Surely not? Jack was sexy as hell and no doubt attracted women like bees to a honey pot but, if her memory served her correctly, he had never wanted to get seriously involved.

They had spent hours talking while she had lain beneath the rubble of the backpackers’ hostel. Marriage, kids, all that ‘settling down’ stuff had definitely not been on his agenda. His career had been his only focus. She must have been a hell of a girl!

‘Any children?’ She held her breath.

‘No, thank goodness.’ His tone was tense, forbidding.

She tried not to flinch. It seemed he was still not enamoured about the idea of being a father. Oh, Isaac. Obviously her decision to keep quiet about their son had been justified.

‘What happened?’

‘Long story,’ he said dismissively. ‘So, are you coming to the memorial service next week?’

‘No.’

‘You’ve never been to any.’ His tone was accusing.

‘I went to the first.’ Her tone was defensive.

Their eyes met and held as she remembered that day and what had happened later in his apartment. They’d made Isaac together that afternoon. They had made love like it had been their last night on earth and they the only two people in the world, clinging desperately to each other, trying to find solace and stability in a world that had been turned upside down.

Jack remembered it vividly. He remembered holding her as she had broken down.

‘I thought I was going to die,’ she had said over and over, as huge sobs had racked her slim body. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how she must have felt—trapped for twelve hours before they’d located her and then for a further eight as rescue teams had worked frantically to dig her out.

He’d thought she was going to die too on a couple of occasions as the unstable foundations had rocked and shifted, buffeted by aftershocks rumbling deep beneath the earth. He’d been helpless to do anything but be there with her, hold her hand, talk. That she had survived was a miracle.

Slowly her sobs had subsided and Jack remembered her embarrassment and then the sudden rush of passion that had taken over as two traumatised people had tried to find a haven together. It had been unexpected—spontaneous—and Jack doubted that either of them could have stopped it. It had been sweet and intense and as he sat opposite her now, he knew he wanted to experience it again.

‘Sometimes I wish I hadn’t gone.’ She broke into their memories.

‘You don’t mean that, Laura.’

No, he was right. She didn’t. Isaac had come from that day. The one great thing that had come out of the whole disaster. He had filled her life with love and joy. Isaac’s name meant laughter and that’s what he had brought to her life—laughter and happiness. Two emotions she hadn’t thought she would feel so soon after Newvalley.

‘No, I don’t,’ she conceded.

‘Come with me to Newvalley, Laura.’

‘No, Jack.’

‘It might be good closure, Laura. If not for you, for the others.’

‘There are no others.’

‘I mean the relatives of the victims, Laura. Every year they turn up and sit around wondering where you are and how you’re doing. They’d love to meet with you. See you’re OK.’

Laura was surprised. She’d never thought of it from that angle before.

‘You could be their closure, too.’

‘I don’t want to be their closure,’ she said tersely, and rose from the table. ‘It took me a couple of years of therapy to get to a point in my life where I could put it all behind me. I don’t want to go back. Rehash it. I can’t be someone else’s crutch.’

‘So don’t be. They won’t ask for anything that you can’t give them, Laura. They’re just people who lost loved ones and feel connected to you because you made it out alive. Let them be near you.’

She shoved her hands in her uniform pockets and paced.

‘I can’t, Jack. I don’t want to remember that time in my life. I want to leave it in the past, where it belongs.’

‘It’s part of who you are. Deny it at your own peril. It’ll creep up on you one day when you least expect it. Post-traumatic stress can be quite debilitating.’

Laura ignored him. She’d heard it all before. ‘I can’t just leave work at the drop of a hat.’

‘When was the last time you had a holiday?’

‘A year ago.’

‘You’ll be burnt out if you’re not careful.’

‘I’m sure I’m no more at risk than any of my colleagues.’

‘They don’t have your trauma history.’

‘Oh, please!’ She rolled her eyes.

‘Have you thought about working in a less stressful environment?’

‘I love ICU!’

‘There are plenty of other areas to work.’

‘Nothing that gives me the job satisfaction.’

‘Doesn’t seem too satisfying at the moment.’

‘Oh, Jack. Sure, we get crazy busy and we lose some. But you know what it’s like! Nothing gives me a bigger thrill than seeing a critically ill patient get better and go home. Knowing you’ve been part of that is the best feeling.’

‘You still need to look after yourself. It’s not uncommon for post-traumatic stress to set in years after the initial incident. Maybe a word to Marie—’

‘Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare interfere with my work.’ She glowered at him.

‘Steady, Laura. No need to get upset.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Jack. You’re back in my life for two minutes and you’re interfering already. I think I’m allowed to be a little cross. I’m not a lost, scared twenty-year-old any more. Besides—no one at work knows. I’d like to keep it that way.’

‘It’s amazing you’ve been able to keep it quiet. No one ever recognised you?’

‘Well, I didn’t start here until a couple of years after Newvalley and the hype had died down by then. Plus, most people don’t know that my real name is Mary. I’ve been called by my middle name all my life, but thankfully backpacker hostels check you in as the name on your passport. As far as Australia’s concerned, the girl under the building was Mary Scott, not Laura.’

‘But…you’ve never confided in anyone?’

‘When you have photographers who’ll use every trick in the book to get a picture, it’s hard to know who to trust any more. I’ve had to become a very private person, Jack. When I started here I didn’t want any special treatment or be an item of curiosity. I’ve struggled to keep a low profile. If my past came out, it’d be all around the hospital…the press would find out…’

Jack’s face told her he thought she was exaggerating.

‘It’s true Jack. Every year, my lawyer is still inundated with offers from the media for an interview.’

‘You’re not serious?’

‘Unfortunately, yes. My lawyer thinks I should get an agent.’

‘You could be a rich woman, Laura.’

‘My memories are private and not for sale. Besides, I have to protect…’

‘Protect?’

‘Myself,’ she said rather lamely, thrown by how easily she had almost let the cat out of the bag. ‘And my family and the people I work with. The last thing anybody here needs is a three-ring circus following me around.’

‘Some people would kill for that kind of attention.’

‘Not me.’ She shuddered. ‘Those first few months after…the media camped out on my doorstep. That’s why I moved to Queensland.’

‘I had no idea you were on TV that much.’

‘I wasn’t. I declined all interviews and avoided the vultures like the plague. But it didn’t stop them from trying! Anyway, they finally grew tired of my constant refusals and decided to leave me alone.’

‘It must have been hard to get your life back together with that kind of scrutiny.’

‘You can say that again!’

So deeply engrossed in conversation were they that Laura and Jack had not noticed the arrival of other people. Splashing in the water alerted them. Laura checked her watch.

‘Please, think about coming to Newvalley with me.’

‘No, Jack,’ she said firmly.

‘Well, it’s not until next week.’ He smiled and stood beside her. ‘I’ll be seeing you around. You never know, maybe I’ll manage to convince you.’

‘Don’t hold your breath.’ She smiled back. Her lips slackened as she became caught up in his intense stare. ‘What?’

‘Why did you leave that morning, Laura?’

‘Oh, Jack, it was a long time ago. Let’s leave it in the past, where it belongs.’

‘I need to know.’

‘Impatient as always.’

‘What would you know?’ His voice had a hard edge to it now. ‘How do you know what I’m like? You walked out, remember. You never gave it a chance. Me a chance.’

All the old feelings returned in a rush. It was as if he had stepped back ten years into the morning after. The sadness and disappointment at finding her gone felt as real now as it had then.

‘Are you angry with me?’ His outburst had surprised her.

‘I thought we had something going and then you walk out in the middle of the night and I never hear from you ever again. Yes.’ The hard edge remained. ‘I was upset with you.’

‘Well, I didn’t notice you trying to contact me,’ she pointed out, peeved by his tone.

‘I tried. Quite a lot, actually. I rang and you never picked up. I called around and you never answered the door. Eventually I figured you just didn’t want to be found, so I gave up.’

Laura was shocked at his admission. Her phone had rung hot, night and day, from the media. She’d stopped answering it. She’d stopped spending time at her flat, too. She’d never known when a journalist was going to show up. She’d rarely been at home those first couple of months and then she’d moved to Queensland to be nearer her mum and dad.

‘Look, Jack, you picked a really bad day for this. I have a headache, and dredging up the past is only making it worse.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He sighed, taking her hand, instantly contrite. He took a deep breath, trying to rein in his chaotic feelings. That he still felt so strongly surprised him. But looking at her closed expression, he knew now wasn’t the time to push. He had to bide his time on this one. He didn’t want to blow it with her. She would tell him one day. He hoped. He pulled her to him and gently kissed her forehead.

Despite what had just happened, Laura felt a strange awareness creep into her bones. Every part of her body in contact with his became alive at a cellular level. It unsettled her. She stepped back.

‘No doubt I’ll see you about,’ she said as she started to walk away.

‘Count on it,’ he called after her.

‘I won’t change my mind,’ she threw over her shoulder as she let herself out the pool gate.

Jack watched her retreat until the wiggle of her cute behind was no longer visible. Her movements aroused him. It may have been ten years but his body was responding to her as if it had been yesterday. He ached for her physically but there was a deeper ache that had nothing to do with her body.

She’d certainly convinced herself that she’d dealt with the events of that day in Newvalley. But despite her claim that she was over it, he could sense an inner vulnerability. Maybe it took someone like him, who knew her intimately, to see what she couldn’t.

He had a feeling she was a time bomb ready to go off. It was better for her to do that in an appropriate situation, like the service, with him by her side, than have something else trigger it at work or at home. That could be catastrophic for her. Somehow he had to get her to that service.

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT a day! Laura drove to her outer suburban home, not really noticing the route. She went through the motions—stopped at the red lights, went on the green. But she was not concentrating on the mechanics of driving. She was preoccupied with him. Jack Riley. Back in her life again after all this time.

To say it was a shock was a gross understatement. In reality, Laura had known that one day they would meet again. It would be a necessity. There’d come a time when Isaac would want to know his father and she would not deny him that. She had been prepared for that eventuality. But not yet. She hadn’t been prepared for it today.

So, what now? she wondered as she turned the small hatchback into the leafy street that had been her home for the last nine years. Seeing him again had dredged up some intense feelings. Laura felt sure that avoiding him was probably the wisest move…for a while anyway. At least until she figured out whether to tell him about Isaac or not. And how to go about it and… Oh, it all seemed such an insurmountable problem. Too complicated.

It had been simple ten years ago when she had first learned she was pregnant. They’d seen each other only twice and one of those times a building had collapsed on her! They hardly had a relationship at all. Yes, they had a special bond. He had been her rescuer, saving her from certain death and risking his life in the process. They were connected, in a cosmic sort of way, but…a couple? With a future?

They had talked a lot during her rescue. From this she had learned that Jack’s career was his priority. A marvellous opportunity had come his way to study surgery in Adelaide. She remembered the note of barely suppressed excitement in his voice, which even several layers of concrete couldn’t muffle, as he’d confided his dreams to her. She wasn’t going to dash them because they had been irresponsible when making love. She wanted no further sacrifice from him.

Laura knew that it probably wouldn’t have been that difficult to track him down, had she been so inclined. But she had not. How could she have done it to him? She had refused to dump what she was certain would have been very unwelcome news in his lap. Heavens! She didn’t want him to think that the whole experience had unbalanced her, turning her into an obsessed lunatic, stalking him, professing to carry his love child.

No. She had wanted the best for him. She had wanted for him what he’d wanted for himself. She owed him her life. She hadn’t wanted to ask him to give up his. She’d been, in reality, just a one-night stand.

Even so, she’d agonised over her decision. Keeping a child from someone, even one who didn’t want kids, was a huge call. Truthfully, she’d hadn’t been in the best place emotionally at the time to make such a momentous decision. But she’d made it, truly convinced it was in Jack’s best interests.

Laura opened the door, disturbing the quiet within the house. Normally she would have swung by her mother’s and picked Isaac up after work, but he was holidaying with his grandparents. They took him away every year at this time.

Usually they took him for a week to their holiday home at Mooloolaba on the Sunshine Coast. But this year they had decided to splurge and take him to Disneyland. They had gone for two weeks. Two whole weeks!

Laura picked up a photo frame with Isaac’s cheeky, nine-year-old grin smiling back at her. He looked so like his father. Same big, gentle, brown eyes with long lashes. Tall and olive-skinned. His hair closely cropped, courtesy of a number-two blade. Jack would have to be blind not to see the resemblance.

Isaac. He had kept her sane through the rough times. A baby’s needs had to be met regardless of how the mother was feeling. He had been a good distraction. Someone to focus on when coping with the aftermath of Newvalley and the guilt of being the sole survivor seemed too much to bear.

She traced his face with her thumb.

‘Oh, Isaac. What should I do?’ She missed him. She was looking forward to hearing his voice on the phone tonight. But there was a lot of time to kill between now and then. Too much time to dwell on Jack. She had to stay busy, keep her mind off Isaac’s father.

Laura passed the time pulling out weeds while music blasted into her head via earpieces attached to Isaac’s Walkman. She sang along loudly, determined not to let her mind wander.

The job took a few hours to complete and it was nearly dark by the time Laura stepped into the shower. She wished she could wash her problems away as easily as the garden dirt being washed down the drain.

With a couple more hours up her sleeve, Laura headed out for a spot of late-night shopping. She walked back through her door with just enough time to unpack the groceries before ringing America.

Laura had prearranged dates and times to ring her parents and Isaac during their holiday. The price of phone calls from hotel rooms was notoriously expensive and international calls even more so. With her parents footing the bill for Isaac, she felt it was one small thing she could do to help with costs.

‘Hi, Isaac.’

‘Hi, Mum.’

‘How are you?’

‘Great, Mum. Wow! It’s really cool over here.’

‘How’s Disneyland?’

‘Excellent. It’s huge!’

‘Where are Gran and Pop?’

‘They’re in bed still. Something about jet-lag.’

Laura laughed, and it echoed around the empty house. Yep. That was Isaac. Always on the go. Jet-lag didn’t stand a chance with him. But her parents were in their sixties. She tended to forget that when they were both still so active.

He chatted on about their plans for the next few days. Laura soaked it up. He’d been gone for such a short time but she missed him fiercely already.

‘I wish you were here, Mum.’

‘So do I, Isaac. So do I.’

A tear squeezed out from under her closed lids as she swallowed a rising tide of emotion. If only he knew how much she wished she had gone with them. Then today’s unexpected meeting would never have happened. Eventually she and Jack would have run into each other but, with the hospital grapevine the way it was, she’d have known about his existence first and have been more prepared.

‘I’ll get Gran. Bye, Mum.’

‘Goodbye, Isaac,’ she said, amused by his typically abrupt farewell.

‘Hi, darling. How are you?’

Her mother’s soft voice put Laura on shaky ground. ‘Fine,’ said Laura. Why did mothers have the power to reduce you to a helpless dependent child all over again, no matter what your age?

‘What’s the matter?’ Her mother’s voice rose an octave.

She never could fool her mother. Suddenly Laura wished her mum was beside her. She desperately wanted to be hugged and soothed the way only mothers seem to know how.

‘I saw Jack today.’

Silence as wide as the Pacific greeted her statement.

‘Oh.’

‘Yes…oh.’

‘Well, how…? I mean, what did you…? Did you tell him…?’

‘Oh, Mum. It’s a long story but…no, I didn’t tell him about Isaac.’

‘What are you going to do, Laura?’

‘I don’t know, Mum. I don’t know.’

‘Darling, it’s difficult to talk now. Why don’t you wait until we get home next week before you decide anything? We can have a proper talk about it then.’

‘That sounds sensible to me.’

Laura was too tired and mentally exhausted to think about a solution. Her head started to throb again. What she needed was to sleep, but she was too afraid to succumb. She could control her waking thoughts but her sleeping?

She took some tablets for her headache and drank some warm milk in her silent house. Thankfully her exhaustion helped her to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

It was different at Jack’s place. He tossed and turned most of the night. His mind had been alive with thoughts of Laura since meeting her again. Shock, amazement, excitement—he had felt them all. Even the bitterness that still lingered over her desertion. But above all he could not believe the overwhelming urge he had to protect her. It was as strong today as it had been ten years ago.

No, no, no! He shook his head, trying to banish her image from his mind. He reminded himself he didn’t do involvement any more. Once you got too involved, women wanted more. Before you knew it there was talk of wedding bells and kids…that he couldn’t do. Since his marriage break-up and subsequent divorce, Jack had been determined to keep any relationship light and friendly and short.

Anna…he groaned as he thought about his ex-wife and the total mess he’d made of their marriage. Not for the first time he found himself wishing they had never married. He thanked God there had been no children. In fact, the whole issue had been the crux of their marital problems. He could not go through that again.

With his mind so preoccupied with Laura, it was inevitable that the dream would come again. There she lay, trapped, unhurt but unable to get out. She was reaching her hand out to him, her tear-streaked face pleading for his help. He tried to reach for her hand but the more he stretched the further away she became. Her sobs, bordering on hysteria, mocked his attempts to reach her. And then the remaining structure crumpled and…

Jack sat bolt upright in bed. Sweat glistened on his brow and his bare chest. His heart palpated like a galloping stallion and echoed loudly in his ears. He clenched the sheets in his hands and flung himself back on the damp material.

Dawn was breaking through his bedroom window. He sighed and closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep. Maybe he would see her today.

* * *

The next morning Laura sat with Marie and Steve, getting handover from the night shift. They sat at the nurses’ station where a central screen displayed information relayed from the bedside monitors.

Marie wasn’t taking a clinical load today but, as boss, she liked to keep up to date with the patients. Laura was in charge of the shift and Steve would float between the bed spaces, helping wherever he was needed.

Staffing was a major issue for intensive care units as a one-to-one nurse-patient ratio was essential. Critically ill patients could crash in seconds, necessitating the bedside nurse to be there all the time—just in case. This meant meal breaks through to toilet stops had to be covered by another nurse.

‘So,’ said Marie as they finished and rose to start work, ‘what’s the story with you and Jack?’

Even though Laura had been expecting it, she still wasn’t quite ready with an answer. Marie had been a good friend over the years, and it was only natural she would be curious.

‘Not much to tell really. I knew him briefly ten years ago.’ Laura shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

‘Looked a bit more than that. Looked like you knew each other well.’ Marie emphasised the last word, giving it just the right amount of innuendo.

‘If you’re asking me if we had an affair, the answer is no. Prior to yesterday I only knew him for a handful of hours. Probably doesn’t even add up to a whole day.’

OK, so she was being economical with the truth, but one night really didn’t count as an affair. Did it? Let’s be real, she thought, it was a one-night stand. Mindblowingly wonderful but nonetheless…

‘But—’

‘Marie,’ Laura interrupted, smiling to soften her words, ‘I really don’t want to talk about it.’

‘OK, OK.’ She laughed, putting up her hands in surrender. ‘None of my business.’

Laura breathed a sigh of relief to be let off the hook. Maybe now she could get on with her day. She was here to work after all!

Laura went from bed to bed, checking on patients and helping out where required. Mr Reid was her first port of call. She put on a gown and entered the isolation room. Mr Reid had had a bone-marrow transplant two weeks ago and had developed severe complications. In Theatre the previous day they had found a perforated bowel.

Today the tubes and wires running all over the bed seemed to have multiplied. She helped the bedside nurse who was scrubbing up to access the central line to administer another bag of blood.

The two drains that came from his operative site were half-full of blood. Laura looked at his lab results on the bedside computer and noted with concern the upward trend. If they continued to worsen and he went into full-blown kidney failure, dialysis would be the next step. Poor Mr Reid! He really had an uphill battle.

Laura de-gowned and moved on to one of the two postop cardiac bypass patients.

‘How are you feeling, Charlie?’ she asked. Now that his breathing tube had been removed, he could talk.

‘Awful.’ His voice was barely more than a whisper. ‘If I had known I was going to feel this bad, I’d have never gone through with it.’

‘I know you feel that way now,’ Laura said, squeezing his hand, ‘but in a week’s time, when you can actually walk around without getting chest pain or feeling out of breath, you’ll feel differently. I promise.’

Laura wished she had a dollar for every bypass patient that had told her the same thing. It was a huge operation involving the chest being cracked open and the blood being shunted out of the body through an artificial pump. Most patients described it afterwards as feeling like they’d been run over by a truck. But the improvement in their lives was astounding.

Laura saw Dr Jenny Dexter, the intensive care consultant, arrive and head for the tearoom. She checked her watch. It was time for morning rounds.

The only really routine event on the unit was eight a.m. rounds. It was a multi-disciplinary meeting with all specialities represented. Individual patients’ surgical and/or medical teams, as well as those in allied health fields, attended—occupational therapy, physiotherapy, pharmacy, social work. With a full unit, ward rounds often took an hour, sometimes longer.

As team leader, Laura attended. It was Steve’s job to relieve the bedside nurse as each patient was discussed, so they could also contribute information. The medical staff and the nurses worked as a close team on the unit. The doctors relied on the bedside nurses and valued their opinions and judgements. The good doctors, anyway.

Laura was surprised to see Jack enter the room. She knew from nursing handover that one of his patients had been admitted overnight but he didn’t need to be here himself.

She eyed him suspiciously as he smiled and plonked himself in the chair beside her.

‘Don’t you have a registrar?’ she whispered as she leaned in, immediately regretting the impulse. The smell of his aftershave lured her into the past. How could she ever forget how he had smelt the day they had made love? The mix of aftershave and pheromones had created an intoxicating aroma.

He looked at her and winked. Jenny called for quiet. Laura blinked, snapping back to the present. For heaven’s sake! It had been ten years. You’d think the man would have changed his brand of aftershave!

‘Right, as you’re here first, Jack, we might as well discuss Simon Adams. He’s your patient, I believe?’ said Jenny.

‘I’ve just taken over his treatment. He’s been clinically depressed since his wife died last year.’

‘Has he expressed a suicidal tendency before?’

‘Initially, yes, but not for some time.’

‘Well, something happened yesterday because his eleven-year-old son found him unconscious with two empty pill bottles beside him,’ said Jenny, indicating for the night registrar to begin her patient review.

Laura watched Jack as he joined in the discussion. He was quite animated when he spoke, using his hands, sitting forward in the chair. Every movement caused his sleeve to brush against her bare arm. It was like a caress and Laura fought the urge to purr.

His voice was just as she remembered it, too. Deep and rumbling. She knew his voice intimately, even more than his body. For hours, as she’d lain trapped, his voice had been her only connection with the outside world. She knew every lilt and nuance. His voice had kept her from the brink of despair.

‘How much longer does he need to be here?’ asked Jack as Laura got back on track with the round.

‘Because of the potential for cardiac toxicity and lethal arrhythmia, we’ll need to keep him for another twenty-four hours. He should be over the worst of the effects by then.’

‘Right, well, I’ll go and talk to him now and if you can discharge him to the psych unit tomorrow, we can follow him up properly. I may need to section him if he doesn’t voluntarily agree to stay. I hope it doesn’t come to that.’

There was a general murmur of agreement and they moved on to the next patient.

‘See you outside,’ Jack whispered in Laura’s ear, and then excused himself.

She took a sip of her hot tea as his aroma invaded her personal space again. She grimaced as the delicate mucous membranes of her mouth protested the temperature of the hot beverage. The discomfort gave her something else to concentrate on.

By the end of the round Laura had noted down three discharges. She emerged from the tearoom organising in her head what would be required and trying to factor in teabreaks and not think about Jack and his aftershave. Thankfully, he appeared to have left.

She noticed a young boy standing beside Simon Adams’s bed. It must be his son. Poor boy! He didn’t look much older than Isaac. How terrible to find your father like that.

Her heart went out to him. If it wasn’t enough that he lost his mother last year, his father obviously wasn’t coping. How alone and sad he must be at the moment.

She watched as his young face crumpled and tears spilled from his eyes. The boy turned away from his father and ran blindly towards the front doors.

Laura gave chase, not wanting him to be alone at a time like this or end up lost somewhere in the hospital because he wasn’t paying any attention to where he was going.

She rounded the corner in time to witness the boy running smack bang into Jack.

‘Whoa there, matey,’ he said holding the boy gently by the shoulders. ‘What’s your rush, Andrew?’

‘Let me go. Let me go,’ Andrew sobbed, pushing ineffectually against Jack’s hold.

‘Come on, mate,’ Jack said quietly as Laura approached. ‘Why don’t I buy you a soft drink from the machine and we can have a talk?’

The boy’s shoulders sagged as his struggle died and he nodded his head miserably. He walked back to the unit with Laura and she showed him into the ‘quiet’ room.

It was a small but comfortably appointed room generally used as a place for relatives of new admissions to wait, as well as a place for doctors to talk to relatives about their loved ones. More often than not it was the place where bad news was given.

She tried to engage Andrew in conversation but he sat tight-lipped and head bowed. Laura felt a little inadequate. She had a son about his age, surely she could think of something to say to help Andrew to open up?

Jack arrived with a can of lemonade. He cracked the lid and handed it to the boy.

‘Thanks,’ he said quietly, and took a small sip.

Jack weighed up the situation as Andrew continued to stare at the floor, hoping he was up to the challenge. Children weren’t exactly his forte. Would he be able to reach the boy?

‘Tough time, huh?’ asked Jack tentatively, initiating dialogue.

‘I guess.’ Andrew shrugged.

‘Want to talk about it?’

Jack held his breath as Andrew stared solemnly into his lemonade can. Just when Jack thought he’d have to try a different tack, Andrew raised his head slowly and fixed him with a stare that belied his young years.

‘Why did he do it?’

Laura’s heart lurched at the directness of this eleven-year-old boy.

‘Your dad’s very sad at the moment. He’s finding it really hard since your mum died.’

‘But he’s got me. Why does he want to leave me as well?’ Andrew’s voice broke.

Jack felt helpless in the face of such earnestness. How did you explain the complexities of adult emotions to children when they dealt in simplistics?

‘Andrew, mate, he doesn’t want to leave you. It’s not about that. He loves you. He loves you with all his heart and all his soul and all his mind. He’s just so sad at the moment he’s not thinking properly. He just wanted to stop feeling so sad. It’s not about leaving you, I promise.’

The boy was quiet as he mulled over Jack’s words. ‘Can you help him?’

There was that directness again!

‘I reckon I can. I reckon we both can. What do you say? Partners?’ Jack held out his hand palm up and waited.

Andrew sat unmoving for a moment and then a slight smile tugged at his lips as he raised his hands and gave Jack a high five.

Laura left them chatting about the latest video games, incredibly moved by what she had just witnessed. And this was a man who didn’t want children? He had been amazing with Andrew. OK, he was a psychiatrist, he knew the right techniques, but it had been more than that.

He had connected with Andrew, had got down to his level. She thought about how he would be with Isaac. Something told her he would be a fantastic father. Unfortunately he seemed so opposed to the idea, even worse than ten years ago, he couldn’t see what was blindingly obvious. He was a natural with kids.

Fortunately the business of the day didn’t give her any time to dwell over the conundrum. There were three discharges to organise and for the first time in weeks there was no one to take their places. The tide appeared to have ebbed.

After lunch it was Laura’s pleasure to say goodbye to one of their long-term patients, Bill, who after fifty-two days was finally well enough to go to a general ward. He had been in a car accident, sustaining major chest trauma that had developed into severe respiratory collapse. But he’d hung in there and today he was being awarded his get-out-of-jail-free card.

Bill had a tear in his eye as he squeezed Laura’s hand.

‘Sister, thank you so much. Thank you. You saved my life, you all did. I don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to thank you enough.’

‘It was a pleasure, Bill.’ Laura smiled. ‘Our pleasure. Seeing you well again is all the thanks we need.’

As Laura waved him off she reflected on the truth of her words. It was as she had told Jack yesterday. This was why she did the job, for moments just like these. This was what made her job so special.

Despite the busy workload, Laura was constantly aware of Jack’s presence. He was spending a considerable amount of time at Simon’s bedside, talking to his patient and spending time with Andrew. This was significant given that, as head of the department, he would have a killer schedule. She guessed that now he had built a rapport with the boy he would be reluctant to blow the tenuous relationship by passing the case off to another member of his team.

Jack approached her as she was at Jason Smith’s bedside. His nurse had called her over to discuss his deteriorating condition. Jason had been involved in a teenage pub brawl, sustaining several blows to the head. He had a moderate closed head injury that hadn’t required surgical intervention, but he hadn’t regained consciousness yet. His heart rate was slowing and his blood pressure was rising.

‘Laura, can I talk to you about Simon?’

‘Not right now, Jack,’ she said distractedly. ‘I just need to—’

Her words were cut short by Jason’s monitor suddenly blaring loudly. She looked over and saw the young man’s arms and legs jerking rhythmically. He was fitting.

‘Give him a bolus of sedation,’ she instructed the bedside nurse. ‘Jack, help me get him on his side.’

Jack assisted as the nurse held her finger on the purge button of the syringe driver that delivered a standard mix of sedative drugs.

‘How much?’ she asked.

‘Until he stops,’ Laura said.

‘He needs some mannitol to reduce the swelling in his brain and we should load him with an anti-epileptic, too,’ said Jack, reaching for the suction tubing and inserting the plastic head into Jason’s mouth to clear the secretions from his oropharynx. ‘Phenytoin,’ he ordered.

Laura stared at Jack over the top of their patient’s head. He had taken the words right out of her mouth. She felt admiration for him mix with her satisfaction that they were working together as a team.

Jason’s movements slowly subsided. Laura handed Jack an airway and watched as he deftly inserted the curved hollow device into Jason’s mouth to prevent his tongue from falling back and occluding his airway.

‘He needs a CAT scan,’ he said, and her admiration grew a little more.

A flurry of activity ensued, the bedspace becoming quite crowded, so Jack excused himself to write in Simon’s notes. He watched Laura surreptitiously in the middle of the action, discussing the developments concerning Jason with the rest of the medical team. She was so in control, so focussed. He hoped there wouldn’t come a time when an emergency triggered a different response. How would she ever cope with feeling out of her depth?

Laura worked with Steve quickly to get Jason prepared for another CAT scan. The team felt he had probably extended his head injury by having a further bleed, causing an increase in his intracranial pressure. The scan would confirm this.

Everything attached to Jason had to be switched to a portable alternative. Portable oxygen, portable monitor, portable pumps. The process took fifteen minutes. Steve accompanied the bedside nurse to the radiology department, along with the registrar and two wardsmen. Scanning an intensely monitored person was involved and required many hands.

Laura finally got a chance to grab a quick break so she took it gratefully. She sank into the tearoom chair, her mind abuzz with the things still to do.

‘Taking a breather?’ asked Jack, sitting beside her.

‘Jack. Thanks so much for earlier, with Jason. It was good having someone who knew what they were doing by my side.’

Jack smiled and felt the pleasure at her compliment warm his insides. ‘I like being at your side.’

Laura smiled back, their closeness of a decade ago returning. She took a deep breath and blinked. This was neither the time nor the place.

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I’m sorry. You wanted to see me earlier?’

‘Doesn’t matter. I sorted it, thanks.’ He quelled the disappointment he felt as she distanced herself. ‘You’ve had a busy day.’

‘No worse than most. Better than some.’ She smiled.

He smiled back and Laura felt her stomach flip-flop. Damn the man. It had been ten years and she could still remember how good he had felt inside her.

‘This is a normal work day?’

‘Pretty much.’

‘Laura.’ He shook his head. ‘Do you know anything about post-traumatic stress disorder?’

The glow from distant memories faded as wariness took over. ‘Probably more than most.’

‘So you know that with the traumatic events of Newvalley, you are in the highest risk group.’

‘I think we’ve been through this already. I can handle it, Jack. I’ve been doing this for a long time. I’m OK.’

‘Just hear me out, Laura, that’s all I’m asking,’ he said, holding up his hands to emphasise the import of his words. ‘I do know what I’m talking about here. You trusted me with Jason, right? Please, trust me on this one.’

Laura shut her eyes and sighed. He was right. She owed it to him to at least listen to what he had to say. His professionalism with Jason and his invaluable help with the emergency compelled her to give his words some thought.

‘OK, I’ll listen.’

‘Thank you,’ he murmured, grateful for the chance to sway her to his way of thinking. But where to start? Now he had his opportunity he didn’t want to blow it.

‘See, the funny thing about PTSD is its ability to rear its ugly head when people least expect it. Sufferers can cruise along for years and then something will happen—doesn’t even have to be very big—and wham! They’re losing it. Big time.’

‘I know that, Jack. But it won’t happen to me.’

‘No.’ He nodded knowingly, ‘Of course, you’re OK. You’ve dealt with it.’

‘I have,’ she sighed, rubbing her eyes.

‘Well, if that was true, going to the memorial service wouldn’t be a problem for you. But it obviously is. I suspect that’s because there are still some demons lurking. The effects of PTSD can be quite debilitating. Some people can’t even get out of bed, let alone hold down a job. Who was the Einstein that recommended you take up this kind of nursing?’

‘I didn’t ask anyone’s permission, Jack. I kind of just stumbled into it and loved it and stayed.’

‘Didn’t your therapist advise you not to?’

‘I didn’t start working here until after my therapy finished.’

‘Well, that’s just as well because anyone worth their salt would know there are two important factors to decrease the risk of PTSD. One…’ he held up his finger ‘…deal with your issues. Two…’ he held up another finger ‘…reduce life stressors. Not hold hands with them, Laura. Reduce them. But you…’ he jabbed his finger at her ‘…go and choose the world’s most stressful job!’

‘Actually, I think air traffic controller holds that honour.’

‘Laura,’ he groaned, exasperated. He had to make her see that she could be setting herself up for a real fall.

‘Jack.’ She sprang up, a frustrated laugh escaping. I’ve given you a fair hearing but enough already! I am not going to crack up on the job! I’m fine. I’ve been fine for a long time now and you dragging it all up again is not going to help me. Obviously this is more your issue than mine!’

‘Laura—’

‘Butt…out…Jack,’ she whispered loudly, emphasising each word, and left the room without a backward glance.

Great, he thought, contemplating the empty room. That went well!

CHAPTER THREE

TWO days later, Laura was on her seventh day of a nine-day stretch. It was Saturday. She loved weekends in hospitals. Even though it wasn’t necessarily quieter on the unit, there was still less hierarchy floating around making life miserable for those at the coalface. The entire atmosphere was relaxed.

She yawned as she came back from lunch. It was almost two o’clock. Today she was the runner and Marie was team leader. Marie didn’t usually work weekends, but when they were this short-staffed she did what she could.

So much for the spare beds! Two had filled by the next day. Miraculously one bed still remained empty and it was Laura’s fervent hope that it would still be so at the end of her shift. Only an hour and a half to go!

Thankfully Jack had backed off. In fact, she hadn’t seen him at all after their tearoom conversation. It did surprise her, however. The memorial service was on Monday and he had seemed so determined to get her there. Hopefully he had heeded her words.

Jenny Dexter put down the phone as Laura approached.

‘I’m going down to Casualty. They want me to look at a guy who’s just come in. Sounds serious. I’ll let you know.’

‘Sure,’ said Laura. So much for the empty bed!

Ten minutes later the consultant was on the phone. She gave Laura a brief rundown on the patient, who she’d be bringing up immediately. Mr Gordon was a forty-year-old with a rapidly deteriorating condition. Suspected meningococcal septicaemia.

Marie and Laura prepared the bedspace for the man’s arrival in record time. They’d just finished when the stretcher pushed through the heavy swing doors of the unit. Laura took one look and knew that the situation was grave. Two women accompanied the stretcher.

While the medical team took over, Laura ushered the reluctant women into the quiet room.

‘My husband’s going to die, isn’t he?’ his frantic wife demanded as the other woman placed a comforting hand on her arm.

Choosing her words carefully, Laura said gently, ‘Your husband is gravely ill.’

‘Don’t let them give up on him. Please, don’t let them. Don’t let him die.’ She clutched at Laura’s arm.

She searched for a shred of hope to give to the woman.

‘Those doctors out there are the best there is, Mrs Gordon. I know they’ll do everything they can.’

When she returned to the bedspace Mr Gordon was already intubated and had a central line inserted. Fluids and drugs were being poured into him. His blood pressure was dangerously low and his heart rate very fast, with multiple erratic beats. The area was littered with discarded packaging and used equipment. It looked chaotic but was actually very controlled.

Laura pitched in, passing things hastily requested, often even before they were asked for. The heart trace on the monitor changed to a life-threatening rhythm and what blood pressure there was totally collapsed.

‘Start cardiac massage,’ Jenny commanded. Marie climbed up on the bed and began compressing Mr Gordon’s sternum. One of the doctors disconnected the ventilator and commenced hand-bagging.

Laura charged the defibrillator. She quickly assembled an ampoule of lignocaine. The machine pinged its readiness and she handed the paddles to Jenny, sending up a quick prayer. All eyes watched his chest jump as the joules of electricity tried to jolt the erratic rhythm back to normality. The trace remained the same. Lignocaine was administered as the machine was charged again.

Mr Gordon had been in full cardiac arrest for twenty long minutes when the futility of the situation called for a reluctant end to the proceedings. The atmosphere, which had been charged with pure adrenaline only moments before, was suddenly hollow and heavy. Solemn introspection replaced frenetic activity.

Laura, who had taken over the cardiac massage, stilled. Her shoulders ached from the effort of compressing such a big man’s sternum. And her heart ached for another life they couldn’t save. She stared down at the gloved hands that formed a barrier between her and the bright purple rash covering the patient’s body—the hallmark of the presence of meningococcus.

‘Laura? You’ve been dealing with the family?’ asked Jenny.

‘Yes,’ said Laura.

‘Shall we?’

They de-gloved solemnly and washed their hands at the sink. Jack approached as they were drying their hands.

‘What are you doing here?’ asked Laura, not even her surprise at seeing him managing to shake the gloom from her voice.

‘I was paged. The social worker is dealing with a crisis on another ward and it was felt that Mr Gordon’s family might need some grief counselling. Has he passed away?’

‘Yes,’ said Laura

‘Oh, dear. How awful.’ Jack voice was quiet as he watched Laura intently. He saw the sadness and disbelief etched on her face and had an inkling of how she was feeling.

He had felt similar emotions at Newvalley. How quickly someone could die was always startling. And it didn’t matter how many times you’d seen it before, it was always shocking.

The fact that Mr Gordon was a complete stranger to Laura would only make it harder. It just wasn’t right that people died among strangers. Surely, in the most desperately dire time of his life, Mr Gordon should have been surrounded by people who knew and loved him?

Such was the nature of the work on an intensive care unit. But Jack knew it didn’t make it any easier and as he continued to watch Laura he could see she was having trouble reining in her emotions. Perhaps she wasn’t the best candidate to be present when the dreadful news was given to the family. Maybe she’d had enough emotion for one day?

Jenny excused herself to answer a page and Laura found herself waiting for Jenny’s return with Jack beside her.

‘Do you think it’s a good idea that you be the one to break the news to Mrs Gordon?’

‘Jenny will do that,’ she said, staring straight ahead.

‘Yes, but do you really need to be there, too?’

‘I’m the only one here who the family vaguely know. Her husband is dead. I think that she deserves to have at least one familiar face around when she’s told. Don’t you?’ Laura’s voice was terse. Her body tense.

‘You’re looking a little shaky at the moment. You’re going to need to be a lot more detached than this,’ Jack pushed.

‘Don’t tell me how to do my job,’ she snarled, turning to look at him. ‘I am a professional. I’ve been sitting in on awful conversations for years. I haven’t broken down in front of a client ever. Ever! And I’m not about to start. When I go into that room I will be perfectly in control.’

‘OK, OK. Calm down. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘When you question my professionalism it upsets me!’ she said in an angry whisper. ‘You think I want to be part of what’s going to be said in that room? Because I don’t. Every part of me rebels against the idea.’

Laura took a breath and tried to calm her racing pulse and seesawing emotions. Yes, the swiftness of Mr Gordon’s deterioration was having an effect on her, but she had to make Jack understand why he was wrong.

She softened her voice. ‘But I am a nurse, I don’t have a choice here. I am compelled to be there because it’s the right thing to do. The only thing to do. I’ve made a connection with them. I can’t just break that connection in their neediest hour because it’s emotionally challenging.’

Jack nodded. He understood what she was telling him but was worried about her nonetheless. At least he would be present during the talk. He had been paged for Mrs Gordon’s emotional journey but as Jenny rejoined them he knew that Laura’s needs took first place.

‘Mrs Gordon.’ Jenny addressed the woman, her face grim, introducing herself and Laura and Jack.

‘No.’ Mrs Gordon shook her head wildly, looking from one to the other, knowing from their faces what they were about to say.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Gordon. We did all we could but…your husband died a few minutes ago.’

‘No,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘He can’t be dead. He was fine four hours ago.’

Jenny nodded solemnly. ‘Mrs Gordon, what we think your husband had, meningococcal septicaemia, it probably got into his bloodstream. Its onset is very quick…’

The woman wasn’t listening. She came closer to Laura and grabbed her by the forearms, her eyes accusing. ‘You said they were the best. You said they’d do everything they could.’ Her voice rose hysterically and she began to shake Laura.

Laura looked into the woman’s eyes, wild with grief, and was paralysed by her disbelief and anger. Even the bite of the woman’s fingers as they dug into her skin didn’t register. She opened her mouth to say something but the words just didn’t come.

She had witnessed many emotional moments, working in this field, comforted many grieving people, but most were surprisingly quiet, reserved in their mourning. To feel the full force of such raw emotion directed right in her face was shocking.

Laura could feel the neutral mask she had slipped on start to fall away. She blinked. Anything to shut out those strangely compelling anguished eyes. Mrs Gordon’s friend was trying to drag her away and Jenny was talking calmly so Laura could be released.

‘OK, now. Come along, Mrs Gordon.’ Jack’s soothing but authoritative voice broke through the woman’s hysteria. He gently prised her fingers from Laura’s arms and held her as she sobbed.

‘Go to the staffroom, Laura,’ he commanded.

‘Wh-what?’ She looked at him, puzzled. She stared at him like she’d never seen him before, her mind refusing to function.

‘Jenny, get her out of here,’ he ordered.

Laura followed Jenny blankly, sitting in the indicated chair in the staffroom, her body on autopilot as she accepted the cup of tea Jenny placed in her cold fingers.

Laura’s brain tumbled over and over, like a clothes dryer. The staff television prattled as she stared at the images on the screen before her, but all she could see was Mrs Gordon’s utter wretchedness and hear her accusing words.

She felt…overwhelmed. Helpless. Just like those immediate months following the building collapse. Laura tried not to panic. She couldn’t go there again. It had taken too long to claw her way back to a semblance of normalcy. What was happening to her? She’d told Jack she was over it and, damn it all, she was!

She drew in a ragged breath and tried to calm her galloping thoughts. I am a professional. I am a professional. The chant helped her retreat from the edge. She felt she’d gained back some control when Jack found her half an hour later.

‘Laura,’ he said gently. ‘Are you OK?’

Laura dragged her gaze to his face. She felt her control teeter and stumble at the concern written there and echoed in his words. She shook her head and he pulled her into his arms.

‘It’s OK. I’m here.’

‘Just like always, huh?’ His chest muffled her whisper as he slowly rocked her.

Before she could stop it, her mental proximity to the past had her back in his apartment ten years ago, being rocked and comforted. Smelling him, feeling him. Wanting him.

She felt the beginnings of an awareness, similar to the one that had possessed her back then. The one that had led to her kissing him and touching him and tearing his clothes off.

Laura broke away, putting some distance between them.

‘That poor woman, that was awful.’ She shuddered. ‘Really awful.’

‘It was what I was worried about before we went in.’

‘What? That she would attack me?’

‘No. That emotionally you were a little too raw still. I mean, you were speechless in there. That’s not normal, I hope?’

‘Of course not,’ she dismissed gruffly. The thought that he seemed to know her state of mind better than she did was unsettling.

‘So why this time?’

‘I’ve never had anyone eyeball me and intimate that it was my fault before. It threw me…that’s all.’

‘She didn’t mean it, you know. She wasn’t attacking you personally,’ he said.

‘I know that,’ she said, exasperated that he felt the need to explain something so obvious.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments.

‘Laura. Laura?’ He placed a hand against her cheek and turned her face so she was looking at him. ‘Please, come to the service with me.’

Laura began to protest but he hushed her with a finger against her mouth. ‘Hear me out, OK?’ He rubbed his finger against her bottom lip and she would have given him anything in that moment.

‘Forget about all the reasons you should.’ He pressed his finger against her lips to still her murmured protest. ‘OK, all the reasons I think you should. How about just doing it for me? For us. Sure, I think you need this but I can’t deny that mostly my reasons for wanting you to go are personal. Think of it as completing the journey that we started ten years ago. Coming full circle. If you don’t think you need closure from what happened then, OK. But maybe we need closure, Laura. I don’t feel like there was ever any ending to us. You know? I think this is the perfect opportunity for us to put our relationship in perspective. Lay some ghosts.’

Laura was stunned by the words. Despite the distraction of his thumb stroking her lips, she managed to absorb most of them. It was true, their relationship had been left up in the air. More so than Jack realised.

‘But…there’s work. I can’t just leave.’

‘I’m sure Marie can spare you.’

Laura pulled away from the eroticism of his caress and the seduction of his soft voice, sitting as far from him as her chair would allow. She just couldn’t leave them when they were already short-staffed. ‘No, she can’t. I’m rostered on for the next two days. Marie needs all hands on deck.’

Marie entered the staffroom. ‘Did I hear my name?’ She looked from one to the other. ‘How are you doing, Laura?’

‘Fine,’ said Laura.

‘You don’t look so good,’ Marie observed.

‘I’ve been trying to convince her to take time off work. I think she should go to the memorial service on Monday, Marie.’

‘What service? What do you mean?’

‘To the Newvalley Earthquake Memorial Service.’