Harry St Clair: Rogue or Doctor? (10 page)

She didn’t need this. She turned away and walked quickly back towards her car. He knew why.

The day was fairly quiet. A few cases of sunburn and a fractured cheekbone from a fall. And Leila’s immunisations.

Bonnie smiled when she saw mother and daughter. It made her feel almost like she belonged here to see them again so soon.

‘I thought I’d come while I remembered,’ Shay said quietly. ‘My aunty said bring her in today.’ Bonnie managed to keep Leila diverted while she slipped the needle in and Shay was smiling by the time they left. ‘Not as bad as I thought it would be,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell my friends you’re good with the little ones.’

By the end of the shift Bonnie was tired. Tired of knowing every minute of the day what Harry was doing, where he was standing, who he was talking to. And when he caught her eye and smiled it was even worse. That night it took her ages to fall asleep and when she did it didn’t last long enough.

A call came through at midnight. Bonnie dreamt her phone was ringing, persistently, annoyingly, until she woke and found it really was.

The night concierge at Reception apologised quickly and then dropped his bombshell. ‘We’ve a call from a guest that her husband had severe chest pain and now he’s blue. Security will pick you and the doctor up in the ambulance to save time. He’ll only be a minute or two away to take you there.’

Bonnie threw the bedclothes off. ‘Of course. Is someone doing cardiac massage?’

‘The night porter’s there. He’s trained in first aid. And the man’s wife is doing the ventilation.’ Amazing.

‘Great work. I’ll be ready.’ Bonnie tore off her nightgown and dragged on her loose trousers and jumper. It was cold in the desert at night, though she had no doubt she’d be warming up with the adrenalin that was rushing through her body already. By the time she was hopping to the door, pulling on her shoes, she heard Harry’s door open. She threw hers open just as he raised his hand to knock.

‘Good,’ he said, and she followed his disappearing back down the hallway and out to the ambulance that pulled up as they arrived.

It seemed he was no slouch when he decided to attend. At least she didn’t have to worry about that. They scooted off into the night, and as the security man drove them along the twists and turns of the side roads between the bungalows she glanced at Harry’s face.

Straight into a code one on his first night. He seemed calm and focused despite this being his first official emergency since he’d left medicine and the moment reminded her again of their last, much smaller patient—when he’d finally decided to help. She banished the thought and crossed her fingers for a similar positive outcome for the sick man and his family.

The bungalow door stood open and Harry jogged ahead while Bonnie grabbed the defibrillator. Bonnie could see the porter on his knees as he gave cardiac massage and the slight blonde woman with the big resuscitation bag between her elbows as she held the mask
on her husband’s face. She squeezed it twice after every thirty chest compressions.

The light from the ceiling shone off the perspiration on the porter’s brow. Bonnie and Harry had come as soon as possible but five minutes must have felt like an hour for these poor people.

Harry slipped in beside the porter and took over the compressions.

‘You’re doing great. I’ll take that from you in a moment,’ Bonnie said to his wife, and knelt down and quickly undid the patient’s pyjama jacket. Matted hair on the man’s chest would confound the pad, she saw, and grabbed the razor to make two quick hairless areas to place the pads of the defibrillator. ‘Darned hairy men,’ Bonnie muttered under her breath.

When she had them attached in place she took the resuscitation bag from his wife, who collapsed back against the bed and watched as Harry ceased cardiac massage to view the tiny screen. Bonnie saw her jam her knuckles against her mouth and she nodded at her in sympathy. ‘Hang in there.’

‘Don’t touch patient. Press shock button,’
the recorded voice in the machine said in a monotone.

Harry said, ‘All clear,’ and glanced around to check before he pressed the shock button. The man’s body lifted slightly off the floor and then sagged back.

Bonnie heard the man’s wife gasp and glanced back over her shoulder with sympathy. ‘He can’t feel it. He’s unconscious.’

Unconsciousness was the best scenario. They recommenced cardiac massage for another two minutes until the next ECG strip could be taken. The rhythm was
slightly improved but not enough to sustain life. The message was repeated and they shocked him again. After the next two minutes of CPR the man began to shift and moan and Bonnie allowed a glimmer of hope to settle in her chest.

This time the screen showed a more viable rhythm and the man’s colour began to improve.

Bonnie slid the oxygen mask onto the patient’s face and put down the bag and mask, then handed Harry supplies for inserting an intravenous cannula on his side of the patient while she did the same on her side.

Within five minutes of their arrival the man was stable, even rousing to consciousness while being manoeuvred onto the stretcher of the ambulance in preparation for transfer to the medical centre.

Harry had already arranged on his mobile for the arrival of the Royal Flying Doctor Service to fly the man to Alice Springs. Pretty slick even for the most experienced of practitioners.

She glanced across at Harry as he gave another injection. There was no doubt they’d worked well together in this situation, though as far as Bonnie was concerned most of the thanks should really go to those first on the scene.

When Bonnie drove the ambulance to the medical centre, she found the cumbersome vehicle surprisingly easy to manoeuvre. Harry monitored the patient in the back, and the man’s wife sat with her hands clasped together tightly in her lap in the front with Bonnie.

Bonnie finally had a moment to spare the woman some attention. ‘Are you all right?’ She glanced across
at Clint’s wife. ‘Your husband’s very lucky you knew what to do.’

Donna, their patient’s ashen-faced wife, a petite fifty-year-old blonde, twisted her hands and swallowed the tears in her throat. ‘Yes. Thank you.’ She looked over into the back, bright tears running down her cheeks. ‘Thank you both. All of you. The wonderful porter who took over from me. Those compressions.’ She shuddered. ‘I was so exhausted by the time he got there.’

‘He looked a little weary too by the time we arrived, but you both did an incredible job of keeping the blood and oxygen circulating.’

Donna ran her hand over her face to wipe away the tears. ‘I never want to have to do that again. Thank goodness you came. Those portable defibrillators are incredible, aren’t they?’

Bonnie could see Donna needed to talk. Needed to dump some of the nervous energy she’d been holding back so incredibly. She’d been amazing. What a heroine. ‘They’re very handy. And so quick to do the job.’

She thought of Donna’s husband’s hairy chest and smiled. ‘I’m afraid Clint’s going to have two shaved areas on his chest. Like two big eyes. Not very neat either.’

‘He’ll cope. I might wax the lot of him while he’s unconscious,’ Donna shakily joked, ‘ready for next time.’

Bonnie took her hand off the wheel and patted Donna’s shoulder. ‘Hopefully he’ll be sorted out by his doctor and there won’t be a next time. But I think you’re incredible, the way you’re holding yourself together.’

Bonnie saw more tears spring into Donna’s eyes.
Oops, sometimes sympathy wasn’t helpful. She should have known that. Bonnie hastily changed the subject. ‘The medical system here is very efficient. All the mod cons as well.’ Bonnie pulled into the medical centre.

The next few minutes were taken up by transferring the patient to a ward bed and connecting him to the wall monitors. When they had Clint settled Bonnie went back to Donna, who’d been in contact with their grown-up children on the phone.

‘The children are so appreciative. And impressed,’ Donna said. ‘I think he had more chance here than if he’d had the heart attack at home in Sydney.’

Bonnie smiled. ‘You might be right. But a lot of the outcome depends on what other people do in those crucial first few minutes. You called for help and got on with it. You did everything right.’ She smiled. ‘I think you’re marvellous. So it couldn’t have been his time to go.’

‘My word, it’s not.’ Donna glanced across at her husband as if to check he was still there. ‘We’ve worked hard all our lives and he’s not losing his retirement because of ill health. I’ll make sure he eats the right things and does an exercise programme. In fact, I’ll do it with him.’

Harry joined them. ‘Sounds great. We all need to.’

Bonnie gestured with her hand. ‘Harry. Dr St Clair. This is Donna, Clint’s wife.’

‘Hello, Donna. We didn’t have much time to chat, did we? The night porter said you were terrific with the CPR before he arrived.’

‘Thank you, Doctor. I hope I never have to do that again but as I said to Bonnie, I’m not losing him now.
We’ve got too much fun to have yet. Too many children together and too much history.’ Donna’s voice shook on the last word.

Bonnie felt tears sting her own eyes. History. Would she ever have that kind of history with a man in her life? Not just bad memories and brief emotional flings with liars and losers?

She saw the way Harry closed down, too. As if he didn’t want to know about history, and children and wives losing husbands, or vice versa. Maybe she would understand more if she knew the circumstances of his loss but she refused to ask Steve or Vicki. It was Harry’s story and if he didn’t think she needed to know, she’d be fine with that. Either way, it wasn’t her business. She’d keep it that way.

By the time Clint was flown out it was almost dawn. Harry and Bonnie saw Donna back to her room, which Housekeeping had tidied for her, and Bonnie tucked her in.

Harry waited at the door. ‘Have a couple of hours’ sleep, and Reception will help you get an early flight. It will truly take that long to get him settled into the ward and the tests will take up most of the morning until you get there. Try not worry too much.’

As they walked away, Harry captured Bonnie’s hand and held it. ‘Well done, Bonnie.’

She was not going there! Bonnie eased her hand free and kept her voice level. ‘You should say, “Well done, team.”’

‘Actually …’ Now that she thought about it, she stopped walking until he stopped too. ‘Imagine if you
hadn’t decided to come and that was all on me and the porter?’

He frowned as if to say, ‘So?’

She shook her head at his refusal to understand. ‘This is exactly what I meant at the airport at Denpasar. I can’t give some of those drugs, Harry. Not without medical orders. That all takes time and I really don’t think Clint had time.’

She saw his comprehension settle. ‘Maybe,’ he said, still reluctant but aware of what she was getting at. Finally he nodded. ‘Yes. I’m glad I was here for that. And for Clint.’ He looked at her. ‘And for you. I don’t like to think of you having to cope with emergencies like that on your own, Bonnie.’

‘People have to if the resources aren’t there. Like you did before you gave up medicine.’

He frowned. They arrived back at the Desert Pea and Harry held the door for her. He didn’t comment on her words.

And he wouldn’t. Why should she be surprised? Bonnie yawned. ‘Shame about a night’s sleep.’

Harry glanced at the lightening sky. ‘You go to bed. Stay there till lunchtime if you can. I won’t sleep. I’ll ring you if I need you. Maybe you can relieve me this afternoon when I crash.’

She glanced at him and she could tell he was wired. He wasn’t shutting his eyes any time soon. She guessed he did have a lot to think about. And she was stuffed. ‘Sounds very democratic. Goodnight.’

Harry watched her close her door and for a brief moment wished he could just follow her into her room and never come out, but he turned away. He’d burned
his boats there. Best go for a walk around the grounds, let the morning air wash away the tension, and when he got back he could ring Alice Springs and see if Clint had arrived safely.

Harry flexed his shoulders. So he was a little unsettled by the last few hours but he was beginning to accept he just might be in the right place for him at this time. At least he wasn’t dreading that first day on call any more.

Later that morning, Harry discovered he might not have offered to do the clinic if he’d realised it was antenatal clinic day. It was all very well to begin to feel more comfortable with medicine, but pregnant women were way too close to home.

By the time Bonnie surfaced about eleven he’d recovered his equilibrium, but his face lit up when she arrived. ‘You could take over here, Bonnie.’

Bonnie smiled when she saw who the clients were. ‘Hi, guys.’

Bernie’s pearly white grin lit up the room and he nudged his girlfriend. ‘She’s the nurse I said about.’

Harry smiled at Bernie’s delight. ‘I was just saying to Tameeka that she should think about how long she stays in Alice Springs as she approaches her due date. In fact, she’s only got five weeks to go she may as well go soon.’

Bonnie saw the frowns on both young people’s faces and glanced between the three of them, feeling her way to diplomacy. ‘Women usually wait until two weeks before their due date if they move into town.’

That didn’t go down well with the medical officer. ‘I
disagree.’ Harry shook his head to underline it. ‘We have no idea when that first baby is going to arrive and this isn’t a safe place to have baby without the hospital.’

Bonnie tried not to telegraph her feelings but it was a battle she only just won. She wanted to frown like her patients were at this insensitive goose.

She tried another angle, hoping that Harry would get the hint. ‘Do you have anyone you can stay with, Tameeka?’

Unhappily, the girl shook her head and rolled her eyes at Bernie. Bernie spoke for her. ‘She’s worried about bein’ homesick ‘cause I can’t stay up there. I gotta job down here with the traditional owner tours. I work mornings from five till eleven. She don’t need to go yet. It’s only a five-hour drive.’

Bonnie lifted her brows and tried to lighten the mood of the conversation. ‘Might be interesting, having contractions on a motorbike.’