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go telling everybody that Dr Cameron’s in here. Until I say otherwise, this is private.’

      ‘It’s probably a fuss about nothing,’ Stuart muttered. ‘Bit of indigestion, that’s all...’

      Emma had sticky dots on his shoulders and just above his hips. She waited for the interference to clear on the overhead monitor. And then her heart sank.

      Stuart opened his eyes. And then shut them again.

      ‘Guess it’s not indigestion, then...’

      ‘No.’ Emma swallowed hard. ‘You’ve got significant ST elevation in leads two and three. We’ll know more when I do a twelve lead but this looks like an inferior infarct. Have you had any aspirin today?’

      Stuart shook his head.

      ‘And you probably need some morphine, don’t you?’

      This time it was a slow nod.

      ‘We’ll do that first, then. And bloods. And I’ll get someone to page Cardiology and make sure the catheter laboratory is available.’

      Angioplasty was the definitive treatment to unblock the coronary arteries causing this heart attack. It could prevent Stuart being left with any lasting damage. It could also save his life. Emma didn’t want to leave his side. What if he went into cardiac arrest?

      But there was a whole raft of things that needed to be done immediately and Emma wasn’t about to let someone else take the lead role in caring for this man.

      Stuart Cameron probably should have retired years ago—before Emma had arrived to follow her passion in emergency medicine—but she would be grateful forever that he’d loved his work too much to leave. He was the closest thing she’d had to a father since she’d lost her own when she’d been only sixteen. A father figure, mentor and close friend all rolled into one. He was one of the most important people in her life—the people she truly loved—and that was a group small enough to be counted on the fingers of one hand. Lily, her mum, Jack...and Sarah...

      Maybe it was that fleeting thought of Sarah that made the fear kick up a notch. Was history repeating itself? Was she going to lose someone so special that it would feel like the end of the world—on the eve of the day that was all about celebrating exactly those people?

      Like she had last year?

      No...she couldn’t let that happen.

      Maybe it was a blessing that Stuart had ignored any warning signs and come into work. He was in the best place possible to deal with this and she was going to make sure that nothing got in the way of his treatment.

      There was no point in trying to keep the news of this crisis away from the staff here now and Emma knew that she was far from the only person who would be desperately worried about Stuart. Within minutes, she had people falling over themselves wanting to help. A nurse was rushing blood samples away to be tested and a technician was capturing a twelve lead ECG trace. She had given Stuart pain relief herself and had also made the call to the cardiology department. It was no surprise that a cardiology consultant came down to the department herself, instead of sending her registrar.

      ‘Goodness me, Stuart. What kind of Christmas surprise is this?’

      ‘Not the best kind.’ Stuart’s smile was apologetic and his gaze included Emma. ‘You’ll have to call someone in, lass. Doesn’t look like I’ll be taking over this shift.’

      ‘Don’t even think about it,’ Emma told him. ‘It’s all under control.’

      It was a white lie. The senior staffing issue for the night was far from under control. Knowing that they were off, most of the doctors had headed out of town for family gatherings. Caroline had been making call after call with no success.

      ‘Here’s the latest twelve lead.’ She handed a series of graphs to the cardiology consultant. ‘Looks like it’s evolving to include a lateral extension.’

      ‘Enzymes back yet?’

      Emma nodded. She handed over the result sheet, reluctant to voice the figures that would tell Stuart just how serious this heart attack was looking.

      ‘We’re all ready for you upstairs,’ the consultant told Stuart. ‘And I’m going to do your angioplasty myself.’

      ‘I’ll bet you were supposed to be heading home by now, too.’

      She just smiled at her colleague. ‘Consider this my Christmas gift to you, my friend. I’ve never forgotten how kind you were to my father when he came in here with his stroke all those years ago.’

      Emma took hold of Stuart’s hand and squeezed it for a moment as the orderly unlocked the brakes on the bed and prepared to start moving him.

      ‘It’ll be okay,’ she told him. ‘I’ll come up and see you as soon as you’re in CCU.’

      ‘No you won’t. You’ll be home with your Lily by then.’ He gave her fingers a return squeeze. ‘You need to be away from this place tonight, love. I know how hard it must be...’

      Emma had to blink against the sudden sting of tears.

      ‘I’m doing fine,’ she whispered. ‘Thanks to you...’

      There was so much more she could have said. So much she would want to say—just in case this was the last chance she would ever have—but the bed was moving already.

      ‘I’ll call you when we’re through,’ the consultant said as she left. ‘Try not to worry—he’s going to get our platinum service.’

      Emma was left standing in the empty space where the bed had been. Littered around her were the plastic wrappers from syringes and IV supplies. The top of a glass drug ampoule was still spinning after being knocked and an ECG electrode was stuck to the floor where it had been dropped. There were no Christmas decorations in here because it had been deemed inappropriate for patients—and their families—who might be facing an unsuccessful conclusion to a life-threatening crisis.

      She could hear the sounds of a busy—and very well decorated—department just through the doors. Clearly, the first of the alcohol-related injuries were arriving, judging by the raised voices and the loud, tuneless singing of a Christmas carol that was happening out there.

      It was only then that she realised she was standing in the same resus area that she’d been in last Christmas Eve. Where she’d had to sit and hold the hand of her best friend as Sarah had taken her last breaths.

      She couldn’t hold back the tears by blinking now. Turning, she ripped some paper towels from the dispenser by the sink and pressed them to her face.

      Only a few minutes ago, she’d been blessed by one of those jewels of excitement but now she was teetering on the edge of that dark space she never wanted to enter again.

      It was all going wrong.

      There would be no decorating the Christmas tree tonight and attaching those very special ornaments to the top. How many tears had been quietly shed as she’d crafted those two little felt angels—a mummy one and a daddy one—in memory of Lily’s parents? Putting them in pride of place at the top of the tree and sharing a moment of remembrance was going to be a new, private Christmas tradition just for her special little family.

      Like kisses for Kissmas.

      She wouldn’t be hanging up the stocking that she had embroidered Lily’s name on, either. No putting carrots out for the reindeer. No squeezy cuddles or sticky kisses to make everything seem worthwhile.

      And no Jack, either.

      Had she really thought that this anniversary might be the one thing that would persuade him to come back?

      To see Lily, at least?

      She’d been hoping for far too much. But right now, it didn’t seem to matter. She needed to refocus those hopes and give them all to Stuart for the next few hours. Knowing that he was going to be all

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