LITMIR.BIZ

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girl and her giggling mother. When the patients had all been seen to they’d set up a temporary poker table, at Nick’s suggestion, in an empty cubicle. Some of the nurses and technicians had started off playing, too, but after two hours Nick and Tiggy were the only ones left in the game.

      The rest of the team was either watching them play, flicking through magazines or answering the occasional call from the patients.

      Nick wasn’t to know, of course, that she played most nights with her father and her brothers whenever they were at home.

      ‘Twenty and I’ll see you.’

      Nick leaned back in his chair and grinned. He placed his hand face up on the table. ‘A flush! Beat that!’

      Tiggy pretended to look dismayed, studying his cards as if she couldn’t quite believe her bad luck. Then she allowed herself a small smile before laying hers down. ‘Think my four aces beats your flush.’

      Nick laughed. ‘Beaten by a girl! Who would have thought? You have some poker face there, Red.’

      She glared at him but before she could say anything he smiled and corrected himself. ‘Apologies. Not Red, Tiggy.’

      She blushed. She wished she managed her poker face as well in her private life.

      At that moment the siren sounded.

      ‘Two men down and possibly civilian injuries forty klicks away,’ Sue interpreted the cackle from the radio. ‘They’re requesting a rapid medical response team to go in and bring them out.’

      Nick had stood and was shrugging himself into his flak jacket. ‘I need a nurse—any volunteers?’

      ‘I’ll go,’ Tiggy said.

      ‘No way,’ Nick replied tersely. ‘Anyone else?’

      Irritated and relieved in equal measure, Tiggy glared at him. He didn’t even seem to notice.

      There was a show of hands and Nick picked an older man. ‘Okay, Scotty, you’re with me. The rest of you prepare to receive the casualties. I’ll let you know what to expect as soon as I’ve made an assessment. Those who aren’t needed and haven’t donated recently, please give blood—just in case. Sue, turf out anyone from the wards who doesn’t absolutely have to be there.’ He grabbed his helmet and strode out of the room.

      Instantaneously, everyone exploded into action. Sue, remembering Tiggy was there, propelled her towards the resus room. ‘We need to make sure we have everything ready. At this stage we don’t know what to expect or how much blood we’ll need. What group are you?’

      ‘O positive.’

      ‘Perfect. One of the medics will get you started on a line.’

      ‘Can’t I help prepare for the casualties?’

      Sue hesitated. ‘We need your blood more than we need you right now. Don’t worry, you’ll get your fair share of action before your time here is up. In the meantime, watch and learn.’

      When Sue was satisfied everything was ready for the incoming casualties, she came to check up on Tiggy.

      She eyed the bag of blood. ‘Another ten minutes max.’

      While she’d been waiting for the bag to fill with her blood, Tiggy had been thinking about the little Afghan girl. She hoped Nick hadn’t included her in his instructions to clear the ward.

      ‘What about Hadiya?’ she asked Sue. ‘We’re not going to discharge her too?’

      Sue shook her head. ‘Nick wants to keep her in for a bit.’

      ‘But are we really going to send her away without further surgery?’

      ‘It can’t be helped.’

      ‘Surely Nick can make an exception?’

      Sue sighed. ‘Believe me, if he could he would. And I haven’t given up hope that he won’t. If anyone can make a miracle happen, it’s Nick. Now, I’d better get on. You just relax.’

      * * *

      Tiggy had finished giving blood, although Sue had insisted that she stay lying down afterwards. Frustrated, she watched as everyone double-checked that everything was ready. The radio crackled again and the staff paused to listen.

      ‘We have two soldiers with shrapnel wounds. One has an injury to his left arm, the other abdominal wounds.’ Nick’s voice was calm over the roar of the helicopter’s engines. ‘ETA five minutes.’

      The surgeon in charge of receiving the casualties turned to his team. ‘It sounds as if we’ll need both theatres. Everyone to your stations.’

      Tiggy eased herself up from the gurney and grabbed a leftover biscuit from the coffee table where everyone had been sitting. Although she still wasn’t hungry, she knew she had to eat something. She was damned if she was going to stand by while everyone else around her worked, and fainting wouldn’t endear her to anyone. Slipping into the changing room, she found a clean pair of scrubs and changed quickly. Her throat was still dry but she knew it wasn’t from dust this time.

      Before she could find Sue, the doors burst open and Nick entered, along with a couple of soldiers pushing a trolley. Nick was kneeling on top of his patient, doing chest compressions.

      ‘He stopped breathing in the ’copter, but CPR has been given continuously. We’ve given him two units of red cells and two litres of colloid en route. We need to get him to Theatre stat.’

      Willing hands stepped forward and rushed the patient through to Resus. Moments later, Scotty and more soldiers burst through the swing doors with the other stretcher.

      ‘This man has shrapnel wounds to his arm,’ Scotty called out. ‘I’ve applied a temporary dressing and started a drip. Vital signs all okay.’

      The injury to the second soldier’s hand was such that for a moment Tiggy couldn’t move.

      As he too was wheeled into Resus, her training kicked in. She grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting away the soldier’s uniform, only vaguely aware of the staff crowded around the other patient, shouting orders.

      Sue wheeled the portable X-ray over to Tiggy’s patient. There was another flurry of activity as the soldier with the abdominal wound was taken into Theatre.

      Nick crossed over to them, peeling off his gloves. Tiggy handed him a fresh pair. The soldier’s vitals were getting worse. His blood pressure was dropping and his pulse becoming increasingly rapid and weak.

      ‘We need to get his arm off. It’s the only way to stop the bleeding,’ the orthopaedic surgeon said, examining the wound.

      ‘Let’s try and stop the bleeding first, shall we?’ Nick said quietly. ‘The hand might not be salvageable, but we might be able to save his lower arm.’

      ‘You have five minutes,’ the orthopod said. ‘After that, he’s going to Theatre.’

      They did everything they could to stop the bleeding, pumping the soldier with blood, but when Nick, along with the other surgeon, looked at the X-ray of the soldier’s injury, he sighed, his eyes bleak. ‘The damage is too bad,’ he said. ‘You’re right, Simon. Amputation is the only way to go.’

      Before she could help herself, a small cry escaped from Tiggy’s lips. ‘Are you sure? Isn’t there anything we can do?’

      Nick and Sue were already preparing the casualty for Theatre. ‘If there was, we would do it,’ Nick said tightly.

      Tiggy swallowed hard. The boy was so young. But she knew Nick was right. The X-ray was there for them all to see, and Nick had already taken a chance by not sending the lad to Theatre straight away.

      Nick looked at Tiggy and if she had any doubts as to how much he’d hoped to save the soldier’s arm they vanished when she saw the anguish in his eyes. ‘I promised these boys we would get them home and that’s what we’re

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