‘You’ve certainly got all the bases covered.’ He indicated a small button. ‘I suppose this gives a printout of the ECG?’
Jane nodded. ‘It does it automatically when it recognises an arrhythmia.’
‘His blood pressure’s low.’ David was staring at the screen. His eyes narrowed slightly. ‘In fact, it’s still dropping.’
‘Is it?’
David’s eyes were back on the television screen. The curtains had been pulled open again around bed eight and he could see Lisa’s back as she stood near bed seven. He heard Jane’s muttered curse as she moved quickly away from the control desk and he caught the change in the ECG pattern out of the corner of his eye, but it was Lisa Kennedy he was watching. How had she known to turn back to her previous patient at precisely that point? A lightning glance at the monitor confirmed that the rhythm had slipped into the uncontrolled squiggles of ventricular fibrillation that heralded a cardiac arrest and the printout of the thin rhythm strip had begun, but it was several seconds before the alarm began to sound.
By that time Lisa had pushed the cardiac-arrest button on the wall to summon the crash team, had knocked the bed end into a horizontal position and removed the patient’s pillows, pushing his bedside table out of the way as another doctor replaced it with the unit’s crash trolley. Jane Maddon hurriedly pulled the curtains to screen the emergency from the horrified gaze of other patients but David had a bird’s-eye view thanks to the television screen.
The staff worked as a close team. David, frustrated at his own inaction, watched as conduction pads were slapped on, positioned over the apex and bottom of the patient’s heart, his bedding and clothing hastily thrown aside. It was Lisa who held the defibrillator paddles and he could almost hear her command to stand clear as other staff stepped back. He cringed inwardly as the patient jerked convulsively and then his gaze moved away from the screen as the crash team arrived at a run.
Despite the seniority of the extra staff, Lisa continued to direct the resuscitation and David’s eyes were riveted to the screen as he watched the CPR, intubation and further defibrillation of the patient. He found he had been holding his breath, which he released in a sigh as the spikes of a normal sinus rhythm began to drift across the screen in front of him.
‘Too slow,’ he muttered, surprised by the murmur of agreement behind his shoulder. He had been totally unaware that other staff members had joined him to observe the crisis. Nobody had switched off the automatic recording of the abnormal rhythms and the strip of ECG paper was now pooling around his ankles. They all watched as Lisa injected the drugs she had ordered, presumably including atropine, and there was a collective sigh of relief within the next minutes as the observers saw the evidence of the patient regaining consciousness.
‘Score one for our side, I think,’ a nurse pronounced as she moved away.
Score another one for Lisa Kennedy, David amended silently. He was still watching as the crash team left and Lisa and the other unit staff tidied up. He could hear the laughter and joking and recognised the sense of euphoria he knew existed between staff in the aftermath of a desperate situation. He would very much have liked to have been included but could only smile his congratulations as Lisa and her companion passed the desk on their way out.
‘Well done, Lisa,’ he said warmly. ‘I’m most impressed.’
‘Thanks.’ The smile didn’t quite reach those brown eyes. ‘But you must be easily impressed. It’s just part of the job around here.’
‘I’m sure Mr Steel wouldn’t agree.’ David enjoyed the surprised flicker in her expression at his knowledge of the patient’s name. Then he saw her glance towards the monitors and the television screen. Her expression changed as she realised how closely David had been able to observe the incident. Fascinated by her changing expression, David wondered if Lisa Kennedy had any awareness of how her face revealed her thoughts. Her body language was expressive too. Like the infinitesimal shrug that said it was of no importance that he’d been watching her. He could almost see the effort with which she made her gaze carefully neutral when she transferred it back in his direction.
‘I don’t think you’ve met our junior registrar, Mr James. This is Sean Findlay.’
‘Call me David.’ He held out his hand to the registrar. ‘I’m not big on formality.’ His gaze included Lisa but it only Sean who nodded and returned the smile. He sighed inwardly. Was establishing a friendly relationship with Lisa Kennedy always such an uphill battle or was it something about him?
Perhaps he shouldn’t have accepted Jane’s offer of a tour around the cardiology wards but it hadn’t occurred to David that it might coincide with Dr Kennedy’s round. Neither had he had any intention of staring at the woman every time she came into view. It had to be coincidence that she managed to catch his eye every time she glanced in his direction. Or could it be that she felt the same attraction and found, like him, that she seemed to have lost automatic control over her visual targets? If so, she was very good at covering it up. Her expression became increasingly exasperated and David felt it was not before time that he headed off to explore the surgical set-up.
The unfortunate timing of his exit from the ward was more than coincidence. It was sheer bad luck. The last thing he wanted was to irritate her further by disrupting her day yet again. But what could he have done? The woman coming down the corridor was the size of an elephant. The bars on her walking frame looked seriously strained and David instinctively stepped aside to remove himself from the path of what appeared to be a human steamroller. The momentum was deceptive, however, and David found himself blocking the purposeful approach of Lisa Kennedy.
‘Excuse me.’
There was nowhere to go. Jane was behind him. Lisa in front. The mountain of flesh on his left had rolled to a standstill and was breathing with alarming difficulty.
‘Use your puffer, Mrs Judd,’ Lisa ordered calmly. ‘Have you got it with you?’
The incongruously small head nodded slowly. Sausage-like fingers inched along the bar towards a fold in a baby pink candlewick dressing-gown that looked like a bedspread. David’s lips twitched. Hell, it probably needed to be a bedspread. He wanted to catch Lisa’s eye to see if she was sharing any amusement in the situation but Lisa was looking over his shoulder at Jane.
‘Do you have any idea where Mr Benson is?’
‘Having an echo, I think.’
Mrs Judd was having difficulty locating her pocket. She tilted towards David who stepped forward involuntarily. Lisa was forced to step backwards. She looked annoyed.
‘And Mrs Chisholm?’
‘She was on the list for a nuclear scan but she might still be in the shower.’
Mrs Judd had found her inhaler. It seemed to be an effort for her to raise it to her lips. David heard her gasp and had a horrifying vision of trying to resuscitate Mrs Judd here in the corridor. He drew in a deep breath and was again aware of the evocative scent of Chanel. But Lisa Kennedy was looking anything but sensuous.
‘It would be nice—just occasionally—if I could find my patients in their beds when I wanted to do a ward round.’
Jane laughed. ‘I’ll see what I can do, Lisa.’
Mrs Judd was moving again and David found himself deserted. He watched as Lisa disappeared into the ward office with Jane, before moving off himself with a small shrug. Why did he have the feeling that he was a major contributor in what was shaping up to be a bad day for Lisa Kennedy? And why did his thoughts keep returning to the senior registrar even hours later when he had finished his tour of the respiratory wards and lunched with their senior staff.
It had to be the novelty of an attractive woman apparently