Only then did Georgie notice a trickle of sweat running down his face. The release of pressure … He’d held himself contained, until now.
There were advantages to being a control freak, she thought, but suddenly she was far from being in control herself. She was suddenly shaking. She stepped back from the table and leaned hard against the wall.
‘Cal,’ Alistair said urgently, and Cal was by her side, pressing her onto a nearby stool, pushing her head between her knees.
‘I’m not fainting,’ she protested weakly, for that was exactly what her body felt like doing. ‘I never faint. Go back.’
‘You’ve excuse enough to faint if you feel like it,’ Alistair growled. ‘Take her out, Cal. We’re done here.’
‘But we’ve succeeded,’ Georgie whispered, and Alistair allowed himself the luxury of a smile.
‘Yeah. We’ve succeeded. With a little luck—but not much, because this is as fine a job as any I’ve seen in major US teaching hospitals, and you picked it up so early that it’s my guess she’ll end up with nothing to show for this morning’s dramas but a tiny scar.’
Georgie didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Why was she shaking now?
It was the bruised cheek and the drama of yesterday, she told herself, though she knew it was no such thing. It was a mixture of all sorts of stuff, not the least the way she was feeling about the man at the operating table.
He was way out of her league, but he was so …
‘Go,’ he said gruffly, and she looked up and her eyes met his. A silent message passed between them. Unmistakable. Go on. You’ve done well here. Look after yourself.
It wasn’t said out loud but it may as well have been.
Why it made her eyes well with tears …
She didn’t cry. She never cried. She wiped her eyes with an angry swipe and stood up. Once more she had to grab for the wall for support.
‘Take her, Cal.’
Alistair sounded as if he wanted to take her himself, she thought, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part.
She glanced at him again. Once more that look …
She had to get out of there.
She went.
He found her twenty minutes later. Transferring a small child from the operating table to a bed in Intensive Care sounded on the surface an easy thing to do, but the attached tubing, monitors and assorted medical paraphernalia were complex. At this stage nothing was to be left to chance. Alistair had supervised it all. Finally free, with Cal doing the first shift of ICU watch, he went to do what every surgeon must. He went to tell the family.
Lizzie.
This woman had been living a nightmare. Hopefully now the nightmare would lift.
He pushed open the door to her ward and Georgie was there. Of course. And Davy. The six-year-old was sitting on the bed with his mother while Georgie was talking to them both.
‘I thought I told you to go to bed,’ he growled, and Georgie smiled at him.
‘No. You just told me to go away.’
‘I meant you to go to bed.’
‘You’re not my doctor—sir.’ She was still smiling.
‘My Megan is going to be all right?’ Lizzie whispered. ‘Georgie says she should …’
‘She’s not completely out of danger yet,’ Alistair said, knowing there was no point in being less than honest. ‘But the outlook is good.’
‘Georgie’s explained it to me,’ Lizzie said. ‘So I know.’
‘It’s great,’ he said softly, smiling at Georgie, and she smiled back. The shaking had stopped. She’d regained a bit of colour. Basically back to normal?
Except for one smashed cheek and one missing kid brother.
‘And I know what happened to Georgie’s face,’ Lizzie continued. Lizzie’s strength was returning as the antibiotics took hold. Antibiotics had been flowing for twenty-four hours now, knocking the infection, and the difference was amazing. ‘I hardly noticed her face this morning but now I have, and the police have been in to get my statement. But they said Smiley’s going to jail, no matter what I say, so I may as well be truthful. It didn’t make sense but then I saw Georgie’s face. I really saw …’
‘I ran into a door,’ Georgie muttered, and put a hand to her cheek.
‘Called Smiley. I know his punches. I can practically recognise his knuckle marks.’
‘It doesn’t—’
‘He had it in for you,’ Lizzie said, and the woman looked shyly up at Alistair, trying to explain. ‘My last birth … with Megan, I bled and bled. I was OK in the end but this time Georgie told Smiley that if he didn’t bring me into hospital when I went into labour she was going to use his testicles for fish bait. She said it real casual-like, and when he laughed she got quiet and said, “Don’t push it, mate, ‘cos I’ve got the entire Hell’s Riders bikers’ gang behind me and they don’t like you any more than I do.” So when I had pains he brought me in, just like it was his idea, but I know he hated it.’
‘You need to leave him behind,’ Georgie said softly, and Lizzie’s eyes filled with tears.
‘Yeah, but when he gets out of jail …’
‘He won’t be back for a while. With his suspended sentence, plus what he gets for this, it’ll be at least a couple of years.’
‘Even then …’
‘Then you need to refocus,’ Alistair said, watching Georgie thoughtfully. Maybe some things needed to be faced. ‘You know that Georgie had it tough when she was a kid?’
‘Hey,’ Georgie said, astounded.
‘You told me people used to punch you,’ he said softly. ‘So it seems you went out and got a black belt in karate.’
‘I did,’ she said, and she managed a smile.
‘But Smiley still punched you,’ Lizzie whispered.
‘Only because you wanted him to punch you,’ Alistair said.
There was absolute silence in the room at that. Davy was big-eyed, unsure of what was going on but smart enough to keep his mouth shut and listen.
And Lizzie figured it out, just like that. ‘You did that for me?’ Lizzie whispered.
‘She did it to give you another chance,’ Alistair said. ‘Do you think you might take it?’
‘Lizzie’s tired,’ Georgie interjected, embarrassed. ‘We shouldn’t be pushing it now.’
‘There’s never a better time to take a stand,’ Alistair said. ‘A line in the sand. Lizzie, yesterday Smiley was your dog-ugly, violent partner. Today he can be your ex-partner, a bad memory you can use the law to protect yourself from.’
‘You reckon I could learn karate?’ Lizzie asked, half-joking, but Alistair didn’t smile and neither did Georgie.
‘You can have your first lesson before you get out of here,’ Georgie promised. ‘As soon as you’re up to it.’
‘I’d … I’d like that.’
‘Then it’s a deal,’ Georgie said, and rose and nudged Alistair. Her message was clear. Lizzie had had enough.
‘You’ve made my mummy better,’ Davy said suddenly, snuggling down against his mother and smiling up at them.
‘Would you like