LITMIR.BIZ

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so that he could actually see what he was doing amongst the swelling tissues. An anaesthetist who’d been on call for the arrest team was setting up the ventilator that would be attached as soon as the intubation had been successfully completed. He had a kit on standby for creating a surgical airway if the intubation was not possible due to the amount of swelling.

      Fizz was working to gain IV access and someone else was setting up the bags of saline and the giving sets that they would need for a fluid challenge to combat anaphylactic shock. Laura administered the first dose of intramuscular adrenaline and then began sorting the other drugs that she knew would be needed. More adrenaline, to set up as an infusion if there wasn’t enough response to the first doses, along with an antihistamine and steroids. She filled syringes and taped the ampoules to the barrel of the syringes to identify them. She was keeping an eye on the screen above the bed, too, so that she could warn Tom of any changes that could be significant, like a further drop in blood pressure or heart rate. This would become even more of a challenge if the heart stopped in the wake of the lack of oxygen from the respiratory arrest.

      The tension was palpable and, at one point, Laura heard the stifled sob of the girl’s mother behind her. She could feel a lump in her own throat. This was every parent’s nightmare, wasn’t it? She was going to hug Harry so hard when she went to pick him up after work today that she knew he would squeak and wriggle free, probably giggling or groaning at the same time, the way six-year-old boys did. In the meantime, she was going to do everything she could to help save this young life in front of them. The alternative was simply unimaginable.

      ‘We’re in...’ Tom gave a satisfied nod as he hooked his stethoscope back around his neck after checking the placement of the airway. ‘Now, let’s get this oxygen saturation looking a bit better.’

      ‘Heart rate’s picking up.’ Like Laura, Fizz was watching the screen above them. ‘And I’ve got wide-bore access on both sides.’

      ‘Let’s start the fluid challenge.’ Tom turned his head to where the child’s mother was standing. ‘How much does she weigh?’

      ‘Um...she was about twenty-six kilos the last time it was checked.’

      ‘And how old is she?’

      ‘Nine. Nearly ten...she’s always been small...’

      Like Harry, Laura thought. He’d always been small for his age and a bit underweight, as well. It made them seem younger than they were. More vulnerable. She wanted to give this young mother a hug. To try and reassure her. She could actually sense the same empathy coming from Tom, whose face creased in an almost smile.

      ‘What’s her name?’

      ‘Elizabeth. We call her Lizzie...’

      * * *

      ‘She’s going to be fine. The immediate danger is over.’

      ‘But she’s in Intensive Care...’

      ‘This is the best place to monitor Lizzie for a few hours. Just to make sure that everything’s under control and the medications are doing their job.’

      The woman closed her eyes as she nodded slowly. ‘I can’t thank you enough, Dr Chapman.’ She pressed her fingers against her mouth. ‘I feel like it was my fault. How could I not have noticed that the auto-injector was past its expiry date?’

      ‘I’m sure that’s something that will never happen again. And you did exactly the right thing, bringing her straight to Emergency.’

      ‘I could have lost her. I... I thought I had...’ She had her hand over her eyes now.

      The urge to touch this woman’s shoulder, or hug her even, to provide comfort was so strong that Tom had to curl his fingers into a fist.

      He didn’t get personally involved with his patients. Or their families. If he did, he’d never be able to do his job well enough and doing his job to the very best of his ability was the most important thing in Tom Chapman’s world.

      The only thing, pretty much...

      ‘Go and sit with her now,’ he told Lizzie’s mother. ‘Or take a break? You probably need one after all that drama.’

      ‘I won’t be leaving her side for a while yet. It’s you that needs a break, I reckon. You worked so hard to save my little girl.’

      ‘It’s my job. And my privilege.’ Tom glanced at his watch. ‘I am on a late lunch break now. That’s why I popped up to see that Lizzie was settled well.’

      ‘I hope you’ve already had your lunch?’

      ‘Not yet. That’s next.’

      But he wasn’t really hungry at all, Tom decided as he walked towards the café in the Royal’s entrance foyer. It was often like that, in the aftermath of the adrenaline rush that came from treating someone so critically ill—even more so when that fight for life was on behalf of a child. All life was precious, of course, but children and especially babies were so vulnerable you couldn’t help becoming emotionally involved to some extent. For some reason, the feeling of connection was harder to shake off after this case. Maybe that was why Tom gave in to the impulse to turn into the gift shop beside the café.

      Ten minutes later he was standing in front of a door in the maternity suite of the Royal.

      Hesitating...

      He didn’t actually have to go in, did he? He could leave his gifts with one of the nurses. He didn’t have to prod that no-go area of his heart any more than it had already been prodded today.

      But visiting Joe and Maggie as they basked in the glow of new parenthood was a friendly thing to do. A polite thing, and Tom Chapman was always polite. Manners that had been developed as a form of self-protection had evolved to be useful under even the most extreme circumstances and he’d learned that there was truth in the old adage to “fake it till you make it”. Tom had faked it for long enough to have made it long ago.

      So, with the string of the pink “It’s a girl!” balloon in one hand and the softest baby toy the gift shop had had available, Tom tapped on the door and poked his head through the gap.

      ‘I can come back later,’ he offered. ‘If you’ve had too many visitors already.’

      ‘No, come in, Tom.’

      ‘Just for a minute, then.’ Tom shook the outstretched hand of the paramedic who had become a trusted colleague in recent months. ‘Congratulations, Joe. And there you were telling me only yesterday that you thought this was a week or two away.’

      ‘Bella had other ideas.’ It was Maggie who spoke. ‘I have a feeling we’re going to be scrambling to keep up with this little one.’

      Tom smiled at Maggie, another paramedic who worked at the Aratika Rescue Base. Her blonde curls looked a little tangled and she looked exhausted but the glow of joy in her eyes nearly blinded Tom.

      He’d seen that look before.

      He’d worn it on his own face, once.

      And yes...it was hard to drop his gaze to the bundle in Maggie’s arms. To the tiny, slightly scrunched-up face of a baby who’d been born within the last few hours. The pain never really went away, did it? You’d think it had faded or been safely locked away somewhere but sometimes all it took was something like seeing that tiny starfish hand poking up from out of the blanket folds and there it was again. So sharp, it could have been yesterday.

      So poignant, it could have brought the sting of tears if he’d allowed it. But, of course, that was never going to happen.

      ‘Would you like to hold her?’ Maggie offered.

      ‘Ah...no...’ Tom actually took a step backwards. ‘I really can’t stay. We’re pretty busy in Emergency.’

      He knew Joe was watching him. He also realised that Joe had respected the confidence of a personal discussion they’d had a while back now. That he hadn’t even told Maggie that

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