The Christmas Marriage Rescue Page 4

  ‘You’ll be joining them if you carry on pushing yourself like this,’ she said tightly, and he sighed.

  ‘You know what A and E is like.’

  ‘Yes.’ She grabbed some plates and slammed them down on the table with more force than was necessary. ‘I should do. I used to work there and I was married to you for long enough.’

  ‘Was?’ He repeated the word, a jealous, possessive anger springing to life inside him. She must have detected something ominous in his tone because she looked up at him and he saw the misery in her eyes.

  His insides twisted and he ran a hand over the back of his neck to relieve the growing tension. In all their years of marriage, he’d never seen Christy cry. He’d seen her helpless with laughter and wild with temper, but he’d never seen her cry and the shimmering mist of tears in her green eyes brought a sick feeling to the pit of his stomach.

  ‘Christy—’

  The phone rang and Christy leaned across to answer it, clearly relieved at the interruption.

  Knowing her as he did, he guessed that such a display of weakness would have horrified her.

  Alessandro watched as she pulled herself together. He heard her clear her throat and speak, saw a smile touch her wide, generous mouth and watched her glorious hair slide over her shoulder as she tilted her head and listened. He’d always loved her hair. The colour of autumn leaves, it fell past her shoulders in soft, wild curls. He was so absorbed by the soft, feminine curve of her jaw that he didn’t even realise she’d replaced the receiver.

  ‘That was Sean.’

  ‘Nicholson?’ Alessandro struggled to concentrate. ‘Did he want to talk to me?’

  ‘No.’ Her voice was calm as she reached into the oven for the stack of pancakes she was keeping warm. ‘He wanted to talk to me.’

  ‘What about?’

  Christy put the pancakes in the middle of the table. ‘Working in A and E. He wants me to do bank work for the two weeks leading up to Christmas to cover all the nurses you have off sick.’

  Alessandro watched while she reached into the fridge for maple syrup. ‘And you said no.’

  ‘Actually, I said yes.’ She added a plate of lemon slices and a bowl of sugar to the table.

  Alessandro stared at her in blatant astonishment. ‘Why would you say yes?’

  Her gaze lifted to his, her green eyes cool. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

  ‘Well, because…’ He dragged a hand through his dark hair and frowned, suspecting that he was about to get himself into hot water. ‘Because it’s a long time since you’ve worked in A and E. You’ve been at home with the children for years now and—’

  ‘And you think my brain has gone to mush?’ Her tone had an edge to it as she reached into the cutlery drawer and withdrew a knife. ‘Why don’t you just say it, Alessandro? You don’t think I’m up to it, do you?’ She slammed the drawer shut with a decisive flick of her hand and Alessandro closed his eyes briefly and wished he’d stayed at the hospital.

  ‘I’m just thinking of you. You’ve no idea what A and E is like now.’ He spread lean, strong hands to emphasise his point. ‘Every day there’s a new piece of high-tech equipment to master and the work is full on and relentless. Every single day we’re stretched to the limit. And then there’s the violent drunks—’

  She put the knife on the table next to the syrup. ‘You don’t think I can cope with a violent drunk?’

  Alessandro eyed the dangerous glint in her eye and felt the hot burn of lust spread through his body. He’d always loved her passion and her strength. The fact that she was afraid of nothing. ‘You’re a strong woman, that’s true, querida,’ he drawled, ‘but—’

  ‘But nothing! Believe it or not, I still have a brain, Alessandro, and giving birth to your children hasn’t changed that fact.’ Passion and fire burned in her eyes and he was suddenly relieved that she’d put the knife down.

  ‘You’re overreacting.’

  ‘Well, excuse me, but when I’m patronised I do have a tendency to overreact,’ she said in a dangerously sweet tone. ‘And let’s be honest here for a moment, shall we? You’re not thinking of me. You’re thinking of yourself. You’re afraid I’ll embarrass you. Or that when you get home, your dinner won’t be cooked. Or that I’ll be too tired for sex—’

  ‘Enough!’ He said the word sharply, his eyes sliding to the door, but there was no sign of the children.

  ‘Yes, Alessandro. I’ve had enough.’ She glared at him. ‘But you’re not thinking of me, are you? You just don’t want anything to upset the perfect order of your life.’

  He inhaled sharply. ‘A and E is busy and challenging and—’

  ‘And you don’t think I’m up to it,’ Christy repeated, her jaw lifting in a stubborn expression that he knew so well. ‘Well, I’m going to prove you wrong. I was a good nurse, Alessandro. You seem to have forgotten that.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten that and you don’t have to prove anything to me,’ Alessandro said stiffly. ‘You’ve been looking after the children and that’s important. It’s enough.’

  ‘For you, yes. But what if it isn’t enough for me?’ Her voice was strangely flat. ‘You carry on building your career, moving forwards and upwards, and you’ve never once stopped to wonder whether I’m happy standing still.’

  Alessandro stared at her. ‘I thought you were happy being at home with the children. Being a practice nurse.’

  ‘Ben has been in full-time education for three years,’ she replied shortly. ‘And being a practice nurse was a forced decision based on the hours. You know that.’

  Did he? Did he know that? Had he ever stopped to think about the choices she’d made? Feeling trapped in a corner, Alessandro ran a hand over the back of his neck.

  ‘If you weren’t happy, you should have talked to me.’

  ‘When? The only way to guarantee an audience with you over the past year would have been to break something vital and arrive at your place of work in an ambulance.’ She slammed a pan down on the side. ‘I tried talking to you, Alessandro. You weren’t listening.’

  ‘I’m listening now.’ He refrained from saying that he couldn’t hear much above the banging and clattering that she was making as she worked her way around the kitchen.

  She paused, the rapid rise and fall of her chest an indication of the depth of emotion bottled up inside her. ‘And now isn’t the time. Isn’t that typical?’ Rubbing a hand over her forehead, she gave a humourless laugh and took a breath. ‘Children! Breakfast!’

  Alessandro didn’t budge from the doorway. ‘We’re going to talk about this, Christy.’

  ‘Some time, yes, but the pancakes are getting cold so it can’t be now.’ She slid a pancake onto Ben’s plate. ‘But I’m starting at the hospital this afternoon. Late shift. You’re looking after the children.’

  Alessandro opened his mouth to suggest that she delay it a few days to give him time to run through the essentials with her, but the children pushed past him and he decided that Christy was right. This wasn’t the right time. She had no idea what A and E was like now, he thought fiercely, and made a mental note to ask Sean and Nicky to keep a discreet eye on her.

  ‘You’re working at the hospital, Mum?’ Katy poured maple syrup over her pancakes. ‘What’s going to happen to us?’

  ‘When Daddy isn’t around, you’ll go to Grandma’s,’ Christy said immediately, and Katy’s face brightened.

  ‘Cool. Shopping.’

  Alessandro frowned. ‘You don’t mind spending most of the week at your grandmother’s?’

  ‘Why would I?’ Katy gave a wide smile. ‘She always says that the great thing about being a grandma is having someone to spoil. I’m more than happy to be that someone.’

  ‘Her chocolate cake is awesome,’ Ben added, heaping sugar in the middle of a pancake. ‘It’s all gooey and she cuts really big pieces. And she never worries about it spoiling your appetite.’

  ‘You see?’ Christy looked at Alessandro and gave a shrug. ‘And, anyway, it will onl
y be for part of the day. I’ll still have plenty of time to spend with the children. Everyone’s happy.’

  Were they? Alessandro poured himself a strong cup of coffee and wondered what it would be like having Christy working in the department.

  He was finding it hard enough being around her for the short period of time he was at home without contemplating falling over her at work, too.

  ‘Look at it this way.’ She gave him a smile loaded with subtle messages. ‘You’re always at the hospital. At least this way I get to see you.’

  And that, Alessandro decided, was going to be the biggest problem. He wouldn’t be able to use work to take his mind off Christy because she was going to be right there, under his nose. ‘I can’t believe you said yes to this.’ Nicky, the A and E sister, grabbed Christy and gave her a hug. ‘We are so pleased to see you back.’

  ‘It’s been years and I’m a bit nervous,’ Christy confessed, stroking a hand down the blue scrub suit that the nurses wore in A and E. It felt unfamiliar. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to make a mistake.’

  ‘No way.’ Nicky shook her head and waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re an experienced nurse. And, anyway, if in doubt just shout.’

  ‘Alessandro doesn’t think I can do it,’ Christy said softly, and Nicky gave her a searching look.

  ‘Well, he’s a traditional Mediterranean man but I guess you knew that when you married him. I suppose he sees you as his wife and the mother of his children. But that’ll change after you’ve been in Resus together.’

  Unless she messed it up. Christy felt a stab of insecurity. It was obvious that Alessandro thought she’d been away from A and E nursing for too long to be much use.

  Would she be able to prove him wrong?

  She, of all people, knew how exacting he was. He was noted for his absence of tolerance when it came to mistakes.

  ‘Anyway, you’ve picked a good shift to start on,’ Nicky said cheerfully, leading her round to the main area of the department. ‘Your handsome husband isn’t working this afternoon, so you can find your feet without him watching you with those brooding dark eyes. And it’s Sunday afternoon. Lots of rugby injuries. Yummy men dressed in virtually nothing and covered in mud. My idea of heaven. Bring ‘em on!’

  Christy laughed, suddenly realising just how much she’d missed the camaraderie that was so much a part of working in the A and E department.

  ‘Where do you want me to work this afternoon?’

  ‘Out here at the sharp end,’ Nicky said immediately. ‘You can help me. It will be like old times. If it’s quiet, we can warm our bottoms on the radiator and catch up on the gossip.’

  Almost immediately the phone rang. Remembering that it was the hotline to Ambulance Control, Christy picked it up without hesitation, listening carefully while the person on the other end outlined the injuries of the patient they were bringing in.

  When she’d replaced the receiver, she repeated the information to Nicky, her tone brisk and professional. ‘Sounds bad. Shall I get Sean?’

  ‘We need to assemble the trauma team,’ Nicky agreed. ‘Shame your Alessandro isn’t on, it’s right up his street. Still, never mind, we’ll bleep the on-call orthopaedic reg.’ Her eyes gleamed with humour. ‘He’ll have to do.’

  * * *

  The children were already asleep when she arrived home and Christy fell into bed, exhausted but elated. She’d done it. She’d worked a shift in A and E and she hadn’t killed anyone or even slightly injured them. And she’d had fun. It had been exciting and unpredictable and the time had passed so fast that she’d been astonished when Nicky had pointed out that it was time to go home. Astonished and disappointed because she’d been enjoying herself. Really, really enjoying herself.

  And now she was back in the spare bedroom. For a short time she’d forgotten about her problems. But there was no forgetting them now, with the cold, empty stretch of bed next to her.

  He didn’t want her, she reminded herself miserably.

  He didn’t want her in his bed and he didn’t want her in his A and E department.

  Leaving home and going to London had just brought to a head something that would have happened anyway.

  Their marriage was on a slow downhill slide and she didn’t seem able to stop it.

  The next morning, Christy scraped a thick layer of ice from her windscreen, dropped the children with her mother and arrived at A and E to find the department in chaos. The waiting room was full to bursting and the triage nurse looked unusually stressed as she tried to calm everyone and maintain order, filtering the urgent from the non-urgent.

  ‘A bus carrying Father Christmas and a bunch of elves hit a patch of black ice at the head of the Kirkstone pass,’ Nicky told her as she hurried past, carrying an armful of equipment. ‘Mostly walking wounded but they’ve just brought the driver in and he’s badly injured. Can you go into Resus and help? Alessandro is in there and they’re short of a circulation nurse. Donna is there but she’s newly qualified and I’m worried that your husband might take her head off if she’s less than perfect. I need you to give her some help. I’m helping to stave off a riot out here. Apparently even elves don’t respond well to four-hour waiting times.’

  Without arguing or asking any further questions, Christy pushed open the doors of Resus and felt her heart hammer hard against her chest.

  She hated to admit it, but the prospect of working with Alessandro made her nervous. She didn’t need Nicky’s reminder that he was capable of removing someone’s head if he wasn’t happy. It was one of the things she’d always respected about him. He cared deeply about each patient and wasn’t willing to settle for anything other than best practice. She knew him to be an exacting taskmaster with a zero tolerance for anything other than perfection.

  It was all very well for Nicky to tell her to keep an eye on Donna, but who was going to keep an eye on her?

  What if she couldn’t remember what to do?

  A blood-stained Father Christmas outfit lay in a pile and the patient was groaning with pain. Alessandro stood at the head of the trolley, co-ordinating the medical team as he assessed the patient. ‘There’s some bruising over the anterior chest wall,’ he murmured as his eyes slid over the patient, conducting a visual examination. ‘No evidence of open wounds or penetrating trauma.’

  Christy walked towards the trolley, momentarily distracted by the sight of him in action. She’d forgotten what an exceptionally gifted doctor he was. Slick, competent and a natural leader. Nothing ever fazed him.

  He lifted his eyes from the patient and saw her. His expression didn’t change. ‘You need protective clothing before you handle the patient,’ he said coldly. ‘At the very least, latex gloves and an apron.’ He turned his attention back to his patient and Christy felt the colour flood into her cheeks. Of course she knew that the first thing she should have done was to reach for protective clothing. All blood and body fluids had to be assumed to carry HIV and the hepatitis virus. She knew that. It was just that seeing him had rattled her. Affected her confidence.

  Determined not to let him get to her, she quickly donned the clothing that she needed and walked back to the trolley.

  Her hands were shaking and her heart was banging against her ribs. She’d done this before, she reminded herself firmly. Many times.

  Alessandro was listening to the patient’s chest, his face blank of expression as he concentrated. When he was satisfied, he looped the stethoscope round his neck and turned to the circulation doctor, a pretty blonde girl who was examining the patient’s femur. ‘Blood loss?’

  ‘I’m keeping pressure on that wound and it’s under control.’

  ‘OK, I want two peripheral lines in and take some blood for cross-matching, full blood count, U and Es, and let’s get an arterial sample. I want blood gas and pH analysis. What’s his blood pressure doing? I need an ECG here.’ His instructions were smooth and seamless and swiftly Christy took over from one of the other nurses, who was clearly struggling and whom she pr
esumed to be Donna.

  Instinctively her eyes flicked to the monitor as she reached for the adhesive electrode pads and attached the patient to the ECG monitor. ‘It’s dropping. Ninety over fifty.’

  Suddenly her hands weren’t shaking any more. Her movements were smooth, confident and almost automatic. She knew what she was doing and it was as if she’d never been away.

  ‘We’ll start with a litre of Hartmann’s,’ Alessandro said immediately, and Christy busied herself with her patient while he made a rapid assessment of brain and spinal-cord function.

  ‘Put your tongue out for me,’ he instructed the patient. ‘Wiggle your toes.’

  ‘His blood pressure is still dropping,’ Christy said quietly, and Alessandro’s gaze flickered to hers.

  ‘Increase the flow rate and let’s give him some analgesia.’

  ‘First line is in,’ the blonde doctor said as she slid a wide-bore cannula into a vein and Christy pulled the IV stand towards her so that she could attach the giving set and start the infusion.

  ‘Get that second line in straight away, Katya,’ Alessandro instructed, and the blonde doctor reached for the second cannula and moved round the trolley to the other side of the patient.

  The man gave a groan of pain and Alessandro immediately switched his attention back to his patient. ‘We’re going to give you something for the pain now, Derek,’ he said calmly and Christy reached for the drugs that she knew would be on the trolley. ‘Morphine and cyclizine?’

  With speed and efficiency she drew up the drug and handed it to Alessandro, along with the ampoule to check. Then she moved closer to the trolley and closed her hand over the patient’s, offering comfort.

  ‘We’ll soon have you more comfortable, Derek,’ she said quietly, and felt the man’s fingers tighten over hers.

  This was the bit that the doctors often forgot or ignored, she thought to herself as she felt the man’s grip. They forgot the importance of touch. They forgot that as well as being injured, the patient was anxious and scared.