Walking to the drug room, Eleanor tried to rehearse her speech, tried to fathom answers to the questions Rory would inevitably ask, work out how she could respond without telling him about the baby.
The baby.
Swiping her ID badge, she let her mind linger on that thought. Now that she knew she was going home, had decided on a future, she was finally coming around to the idea that she was actually going to have one.
And they’d be okay.
Eleanor knew that in her heart.
Carol Marinelli is a nurse who loves writing. Or is she a writer who loves nursing? The truth is, Carol’s having trouble deciding at the moment, but writing definitely seems to be taking precedence! She’s happily married to an eternally patient husband and mother to three fabulously boisterous children. Add a would-be tennis player, an eternal romantic and a devout daydreamer to that list, and that pretty much sums Carol up. Oh, she’s also terrible at housework!
Carol now also writes for Modern Romance™!
Recent titles by the same author:
Medical Romance™
THE DOCTOR’S OUTBACK BABY
(Tennengarrah Clinic) THE BUSH DOCTOR’S CHALLENGE (Tennengarrah Clinic) THE BABY EMERGENCY (Tennengarrah Clinic) THE ELUSIVE CONSULTANT
Modern Romance™
THE ITALIAN’S MARRIAGE BARGAIN
THE BILLIONAIRE’S CONTRACT BRIDE
One Night in Emergency
Carol Marinelli
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
‘THERE’S been a bus crash!’
Eleanor’s heart didn’t sink as Mary Byrne placed her hand over the telephone receiver and mouthed the words to the rapidly gathering staff. Instead, it skipped into overdrive, galloping along way too fast.
Her mind was going at the same speed, too.
It was Saturday night and the emergency room was already full to bursting. Half the staff had rung in sick, courtesy of a flu bug that had started in Singapore and had somehow landed in Melbourne five days previously, so the place was being manned by only a couple of regular staff, along with rather too many agency nurses. And to cap it off, it was Eleanor’s first night duty in the emergency department of Melbourne Central.
Actually, it was her first shift in Melbourne Central, full stop. She’d rather been hoping for a gentle easing into her new job, a slow introduction to a city emergency department after completing her training and graduation year in the country, but given that Mary Byrne was her mentor for the next three months it meant that for the most part they would be sharing the same shifts.
And as Mary had volunteered for a week of nights, by default, so too had Eleanor.
‘A minibus crash,’ Mary corrected, with a relieved sigh as she hung up the telephone and came over to address her staff. ‘Which is a lot better than it first sounded, but that still means we’ve got twelve new patients arriving and at this stage we’re not sure of the injuries. Ambulance Control is going to let me know more just as soon as they do.’
The red phone buzzed again and Mary answered it promptly, her stern face rigid with concentration and her thick Irish brogue direct and to the point.
‘Lord help us all, then!’ she exclaimed, slamming down the phone and coming back to her team.
‘What is it?’ Vicki, one of the few regular staff in the unit tonight, asked as Mary rolled her eyes and muttered loudly under her breath. ‘Does it sound serious?’
‘Oh, it’s serious all right,’ Mary retorted. ‘The minibus that crashed happens to be filled with half the victors of some local rugby shield match. And, as luck would have it, the other half of the team was following behind, so no doubt they’ll be descending on us too just to make things a touch livelier.’
‘Where have you been, young man?’ Mary asked as Pier, one of the agency nurses, joined the team. ‘When the red phone goes off, you’re supposed to come directly over.’
‘Oui, I know, but I was putting cubicle six on a bedpan.’
‘When the red phone buzzes, you ensure your patient’s safety and then come to the nurses’ station.’ Mary fixed him with a stern glare. ‘The only exception to that rule is if you’re in Resus with a critical patient.’
‘Are the injuries bad?’ It was the first time Eleanor had spoken, her very newly registered nurse brain whirring ahead of itself, trying to imagine the types of injuries that would be arriving. For a full year she’d been desperate to roll her sleeves up and tackle some real emergency nursing, constantly frustrated by her previous manager’s attempts to thwart her, but now that the moment appeared to have arrived, suddenly Eleanor felt woefully unprepared.
‘Cuts and bruises at this stage, one or two sound as if they may have fractures, and the driver has a nasty seat-belt injury—injuries I can deal with blindfolded,’ Mary thundered on. ‘It’s twenty-four young men with too much C2H50H on board I can well do without.’
‘C2H…’ Eleanor frowned, her voice trailing off as she tried to, first, remember to look assertive and, second, to work out just what on earth Mary was going on about now.
‘You don’t write that on their notes, mind,’ Mary said sharply as Eleanor dutifully wrote the mass of letters and numbers down. ‘They can smell like a brewery, have slurred speech and be staggering as they walk, but it would be very dangerous to make any assumptions. The symptoms are the same as a head injury and it won’t go down too well in court if it’s even been hinted at in the patient notes. Have I made myself clear?’
Eleanor nodded, but her frown