Cort Mason - Dr Delectable - Carol Marinelli Mills & Boon Medical

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      ‘I’m not in trouble,’ Cort said. ‘I’m just running out of size 9 gloves.’

      He sat down and blew up his hair, because it really was warm in the suture room and he was still so angry he could spit. ‘There’s a big difference,’ he said, ‘between hero and ego. If you take anything from this place—take that.’

      Ruby nodded.

      ‘I told Sheila it wasn’t your fault,’ he added as she snipped the last of the stitches.

      ‘Thanks,’ Ruby said. ‘Though I doubt it will help.’

      He wanted to ask more, wanted to find out why she was in trouble, but he didn’t want to wonder more about her as well. She stayed quiet as he finished the neat row of sutures then he asked her to put on a dressing, thanked her for her help, peeled off the plastic gloves and washed his hands.

      ‘Cort.’ Jamelia came to the door and it sounded an awful lot as if she’d been crying. ‘Would you mind …?’ She gave a small swallow. ‘Would you mind talking to the relatives for me?’

      ‘I’ll come and take a look at him first.’ Cort nodded and picked up his jacket just as Sheila bustled in.

      ‘Jamelia, the relatives really do need to be spoken to ASAP.’

      ‘I’m going to do it,’ Cort said.

      ‘You go with Cort.’ Sheila glanced over at Ruby. ‘I’ll finish up in here.’

      Ruby would have preferred an emergency tracheotomy, even ten of them, rather than the prospect of sitting with relatives as bad news was delivered, and she fumbled for yet another excuse. ‘Connor said I was to go straight to coffee after doing this.’

      ‘You couldn’t say no to the senior reg when he asked you to do something for him, I can understand that.’ Sheila fixed her with a stare. ‘So don’t say no to the NUM.’

      Ruby nodded and swallowed and glanced up to Cort.

      ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I just want to see for myself how he is first.’

      They walked into Resus and the anaesthetist gave Cort a full briefing. Ruby stood quietly and looked at the young man for a moment then looked away as Cort examined his eyes and his ears and checked his reflexes for himself. She could hear all the anaesthetist was saying and it sounded a lot less than hopeful.

      ‘Let’s do this, then.’

      They walked down the corridor to the little interview room and just as they got there, Ruby was quite sure that she couldn’t go in.

      ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she admitted, and Cort turned round briefly.

      ‘You don’t have to say anything,’ Cort said. ‘Come on.’

      And she wanted to turn, wanted to run. For a full three seconds she seriously considered it, except he’d knocked and opened the door and there was a whole family whose eyes turned anxiously towards them. A nurse running off would only terrify them more than they were already.

      It was the only reason she forced herself to go in.

      CHAPTER TWO

      COULD he not give them a little more hope?

      Ruby sat in with the family and listened as Cort gave the grim diagnosis.

      ‘The paramedics were unable to intubate him,’ Cort reiterated.

      ‘But he was bagged …’ The young man’s sister was a nurse and she was absolutely not having it, refusing to accept the grim diagnosis. ‘He would have got some oxygen. And it was just a couple of minutes from the hospital when he went into respiratory arrest.’

      ‘Yes,’ Cort said. ‘However, his airway was severely obstructed, so we’re not sure how effective that was. His head injuries are extensive too,’ he added, and the ping-pong match went on as Ruby sat there, the family demanding more hope than Cort would permit.

      ‘We’re going to move him up to ICU within the next half hour—they’re just preparing for him.’

      ‘Can we see him first?’

      ‘Brief ly,’ Cort said, then he warned them all what to expect and Ruby just sat there. He told them it would be a little while till they were able to go in, but someone would be along just as soon as they could to fetch them.

      And as Ruby stared at her knees, she tried not to cry as Cort finished the interview.

      ‘I really am very sorry.’

      ‘Don’t be sorry,’ the sister answered tartly. ‘Just save him.’

      ‘I see from his notes that he’s Catholic,’ Cort said. ‘Would you like us to arrange the priest to visit him?’

      Ruby thought she might stand and run out of there as the family started really sobbing, but at that point Cort stood.

      ‘Someone will be in shortly.’

      ‘Could you not have been a bit gentler with them?’ Ruby asked when they were outside.

      ‘Why?’ Cort asked. ‘Soon they’re going to be approached to consider organ donation …’

      ‘Excuse me.’

      He watched as she walked quickly to the patient toilet and he thought of waiting till she came out, but it wasn’t his problem. Instead he went and spoke to Connor then gave ICU a ring. He then found Jamelia in tears in his office and dealt with her as kindly as he could. Vomiting nurses and emergency doctors who couldn’t deal with emergencies really weren’t his problem.

      He actually felt sorry for Jamelia.

      A temporary locum, she had worked mainly in the country and simply wasn’t used to the volume of patients that came through Eastern Beaches’ doors. She was filling big shoes too—Nick, a popular locum, was on his honeymoon, and though their paths had never crossed, Cort knew the energy and fun he had brought to this difficult place. Jamelia told him that after Nick, and with Cort now back, she felt as though she was a disappointment to everyone. So after a long chat with Jamelia he headed to the kitchen, where someone had made a pot of tea. He poured himself a cup, then frowned at the watery fluid and opened the lid of the pot, only to see a pile of leaves and herbs. He made a mug of coffee instead and headed for the staffroom.

      ‘Why is there a garden growing in the teapot?’ he asked, and sat down.

      ‘Ruby’s herbs!’ Siobhan, another nurse on duty, rolled her eyes. ‘Just in case your immune system needs boosting.’

      ‘I’ll stick with caffeine, thanks.’

      He glanced over to where Ruby sat, reading a book on her coffee break, her complexion a touch whiter than it had been in the suture room.

      ‘Where’s Jamelia?’ Doug, the consultant, popped his head in. ‘Hiding in the office again?’

      ‘Go easy,’ Cort sighed.

      ‘Someone has to say something,’ Doug said.

      ‘I just have.’

      ‘Okay.’ Doug nodded. ‘I’ll leave her for now.’

      ‘You know what they say …’ Siobhan yawned and stretched out her legs. ‘If you can’t stand the heat …’

      And Ruby couldn’t stand this place.

      They just spoke about everything and anyone wherever they wanted, just bitched and dissected people, and didn’t care who heard. She couldn’t stand Siobhan and her snide comments, and she really thought she might say something, just might stand up and tell her what an absolute bitch she was, that any normal person would be sitting in an office sobbing when a twenty-three-year-old was going to die. That laughing and joking and eating chocolate and watching television as the priest

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