Needed: Full-Time Father (Medical Romance) (2 page)

‘We need to get him to Resus—get a trolley,’ Guy shouted, but Vic was already picking up Gerard’s shoulders, and Guy assisted him, somehow carrying the leaden weight. Madison raced ahead, turning on machines that had so far only been used in practice runs, completely unable to comprehend that the patient they’d so eagerly anticipated, had so long awaited, had trained and practiced for, had, in fact, turned out to be Gerard himself.

As Madison ripped open chest pads, Guy tore at Gerard’s suit then picked up the chest paddles and placed them over Gerard’s chest to give a reading of his heart rate.

‘Asystole,’ Madison said, seeing the flat line appear on the monitor. She plugged in the ambu-bag to the walled oxygen and commenced the breathing for Gerard, but Guy shook his head.

‘It could be fine VF,’ he said, hoping that the reading that was showing on the monitor wasn’t a true one—asystole was the worse kind of cardiac arrest, but there was a chance, a tiny one, that his heart was fibrillating and that the reading was so fine the machine couldn’t pick it up, a tiny chance that he had a type of cardiac arrhythmia that could be reverted and Madison stood
back as Guy gave Gerard the benefit of the doubt and delivered a shock to his lifeless body.

‘Still asystole.’ Guy’s voice was hoarse. ‘Keep up the massage.’ They needed more hands, needed help here now, and thankfully it arrived. Shirley, the nursing supervisor, racing into Resus, her expression appalled when she took in the scene.

‘Bag him, Shirley,’ Madison ordered, clipping a tourniquet to Gerard’s flaccid arm and getting IV access as Guy continued to pound Guy’s chest. ‘Vic, call for an ambulance, tell them we need the MICA.’

‘MICA?’ Vic gave a panicked, bewildered shake of his head.

‘The mobile intensive care unit, Switch will understand. Tell them to say that our doctor has had a cardiac arrest and we need him to be transferred, we need an ICU bed…’ Madison was pulling up the standard drugs used during a cardiac arrest and handing them to Guy, before he even had to name them. She winced as he shocked Gerard again, the horrible, singed smell filling the sterile room. She felt the indignity of seeing the immaculate Gerard with his chest bared, his tie cut and pushed to the side. But as was so much the man, a handkerchief still peeped out of his suit pocket—a poignant reminder of the immaculate man they were trying to save.

‘Look, I don’t know if it means anything,’ Vic spoke, his voice shaky, unsure of his reception, but Guy was open to any suggestion and nodded urgently for Vic to go on. ‘He said something about a sore back last night when he went home.’

‘He could have a ruptured aortic aneurysm,’ Guy said, referring to a dire surgical emergency where the main artery of the body ruptured.

‘He strained his back, moving a box with me, last night,’ Madison said, shaking her head. ‘I was there, Guy. It was a simple strain, I saw it happen myself…’

‘Open a thoracotomy tray,’ Guy called, and almost on autopilot Madison went to retrieve one. She set it up to open Gerard’s chest, to rip through his sternum so that Guy could visualise the heart, massage it with his hands, clamp the aorta, tie off a bleed or remove a clot, do something, anything, that might prolong this wonderful life. But all Madison knew was that Gerard wouldn’t have wanted it.

‘We did everything we could.’

She’d heard it said so many times, had used the sentence herself on many, many occasions, but maybe for the first time Madison knew exactly what it meant. That sometimes to do everything you actually had to be brave and do nothing—because nothing modern medicine had to offer was going to help now. Despite heroics, despite best effort, nothing could make a difference for Gerard—certainly not ripping open his chest with a saw.

‘He’s gone.’ She couldn’t believe she was saying it, yet she knew that it was true. Knew that going on even a moment longer was an indignity, that Professor Gerard Dalton had gone and nothing was going to bring him back.

‘He might have…’ For a second Guy wavered, torn
between hope and truth, and for the first time Madison actually looked at him, took in the man she’d never formally met but who seemed somehow to understand the atrocity of what had taken place. Dark blond hair flopped over his forehead, the same raw anguish she had first witnessed when he had knelt down beside Gerard’s lifeless body in the entrance hall more visible now. His hazel eyes stared first at her then down at his patient, his tall, muscular body slumped in resignation, the rhythmic massage stilling. But his fingers were still knotted together over Gerard’s chest as he stared at the monitor.

‘There’s no history?’ he checked. ‘Any pre-existing—?’

‘He’s a workaholic,’ Madison whispered. ‘That’s all I know.’

And the agony she had briefly witnessed was smothered now as Guy reverted to the practical, drew on his professionalism. He flicked on his torch, tested Gerard’s pupil response, pulled out his stethoscope and listened for any indication of life, shaking his head as the paramedics rushed in pumped for action, ready to assist. They visibly deflated as they realised who the patient was—anyone who had been in Emergency for any length of time knew and respected Gerard Dalton.

‘Time of death.’ Guy Boyd’s voice was hollow, a muscle flickering in his taut cheek as he glance up at the clock. ‘Five thirty-two a.m.’

And Madison did what was needed but no more—she closed Gerard’s eyes on a world he had left too
soon, pulled a sheet up over his body but not over his face, then walked out of the area, dragging in air that seemed stale, nausea seeping into every pore, nerves jumping as Guy Boyd came up behind her.

‘What happened? Before I arrived, I mean.’

‘You saw what happened,’ Madison choked. ‘One minute we were talking, looking forward to today and the next…’ She took a deep breath, swallowing rising hysteria. ‘His wife, I’ll have to—’

‘I’ll do it,’ Guy broke in, but Madison shook her head.

‘She deserves more than a phone call.’

‘I’ll go over to her home now.’ He gave a hesitant nod, then midway it changed and he nodded more firmly. ‘The hospital doesn’t officially open for a few hours yet. I’ll go and fetch her.’

‘But Yvonne should hear it from someone who knows her…’ Tears were starting, emotion was creeping in, but Madison choked it all back, appalled at the prospect of breaking down, terrified that if she started to cry she’d never stop, painfully aware that staff would be arriving soon.

‘I know Yvonne,’ Guy said, his hand reaching out and capturing her shoulder, squeezing it. Madison couldn’t be sure if he was giving support or taking it. ‘I’ll tell her what’s happened face to face—it’s better that way. No doubt she’ll want to come straight over to the hospital, she’ll need to see for herself…Are you OK?’ His voice changed from pensive to worried, his hand tightened on her shoulder, but more in an attempt to hold her up. ‘Sister…?’

‘Madison,’ she filled in, running a tongue over horribly dry lips. A scream built in her throat but she swallowed it back, balled her fists, struggled to keep it all in check as blindly Guy continued.

‘Madison Walsh,’ Guy responded, obviously having recognised her name. ‘Gerard speaks very highly of you.’ A flash of pain flickered across his face and mercifully he didn’t correct himself, didn’t relegate Gerard to the past tense while he was still warm in the room nearby. Instead, Guy gulped in air, raked a hand through his hair and then nodded as if to right himself.

‘I’ll go and tell Yvonne now. This is going to have to go to the coroner, so don’t remove any equipment from the…’ He gave a tiny swallow before continuing. ‘Just make him look as presentable as you can.’

‘Of course I will,’ Madison snapped, not sure where her anger was coming from, not sure at all how she was actually feeling, but relieved to let a little bit of emotion out. ‘As if I need to be told how to prepare a patient.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Guy said. ‘I wasn’t implying…’ His voice trailed off and Madison stood there trying to take it all in, trying to fathom how somehow in a matter of minutes everything, everything, had changed. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, and Madison knew he wasn’t apologising for his words this time but for the terrible loss that had been suffered.

‘Me, too,’ Madison whispered, wondering how she was going to do this, how she was going to tell the staff. Face Yvonne. Her mind grasped for some comfort, for
strength to see her through just the next moment at least. She found it from an unlikely source. Guy Boyd’s hand reached for her shoulder, gripping it tightly for a moment in a tender show of support.

‘We’ll get through this, the department is going to get through this.’

But Madison knew that, knew the team she and Gerard had created, the procedures that had long since been put in place, were enough to withstand even a blow such as this. Her grief was on a much more personal level and when she didn’t respond, Guy seemed to sense why.

‘He was more than just a boss to you, wasn’t he?’

‘Much more,’ Madison agreed, and perhaps it was the emotion of the moment, a need to voice what was on her mind. Whatever the reason, she found herself opening up in a way she hadn’t in the longest time, and even though there were endless things to be addressed, endless problems to face, the two of them took a small slice of time to share in some memories before they faced the unenviable tasks ahead. ‘He delivered my daughter.’

‘Don’t tell me you delivered the baby at work!’ Guy teased, but his voice was tinged with something he couldn’t identify—regret, confusion, he didn’t know. It was hard to believe that this brittle, almost hostile woman should have a softer side, that behind the starched uniform and withering stare beat the infinitely gentler dimensions of a woman.

‘Not quite.’ A tiny smile wobbled on her lips as
she recalled the memory. ‘We needed the money so I worked far into my pregnancy. I was thirty-five weeks pregnant and thought I had a bit of back pain. I tried not to let anyone see, but Gerard, being Gerard, picked up on it straight away. He wanted me to go to Maternity but I insisted on going home first. Being the gentleman he was, he offered to drive me home.’

‘You didn’t have it in his car!’

Looking up, she saw that hazel eyes were somehow, despite what had happened, smiling.

‘No, but I found out what those little handrails above windows are for.’ His quizzical frown told Madison that clearly Guy didn’t have a clue—no doubt, he thought that they’d merely been provided to hang his dry cleaning from. ‘Suddenly I was holding onto the handles, gripping for dear life and wanting to push! Gerard was great. He executed a U-turn in the middle of the road and drove me to Maternity. We made it with seconds to spare.’ Like a balloon bursting, the blissful warmth of the memory dispersed and cold reality settled in. ‘He was there for me during good times and bad, there for me when my life fell apart…’ She checked herself, appalled at admitting so much to a stranger, consoling herself that grief did the strangest things to even the most sensible people. Pressing her fingers into her eyes, Madison halted herself and drew on some extremely well-used inner reserve as Guy watched.

He watched and tried to fathom this woman falling apart—stared down at the very straight brown hair pulled sharply back, the minimal but carefully applied
make-up, the crisply ironed burgundy blouse that told everyone she was a senior member of staff, her very neat navy skirt sitting just on the knee and above even neater navy stockinged legs. He wondered what scale she measured herself on because from where he was standing, the closest a woman like Madison Walsh would come to falling apart was a run in her stockings. And no doubt she’s have a replacement pair in her bag, and a couple in her office drawer, too, come to that.

‘I can’t somehow imagine your life falling apart,’ he murmured, and Madison let out a hollow laugh.

‘Believe me, it did, and through it all Gerard was there.’ Feeling horribly self-indulgent, she shot a shy look at Guy. ‘From what Gerard told me, you know each other pretty well.’

‘Not well enough, unfortunately,’ Guy said softly, and there was something in his voice she couldn’t interpret, a pain that however well hidden seemed incredibly raw. ‘I was hoping to put that right, though. I was really looking forward to working alongside him. I’ll go and tell Yvonne,’ Guy said wearily, and headed off to perform the hardest task of the entire morning.

M
ADISON
was glad to be busy and to be able to immerse herself in the seemingly insurmountable task of creating some sort of order out of the chaotic day. When a patient died the work didn’t stop. There were relatives to be contacted, forms to be filled out, the body to be prepared. But when the death was sudden, when the patient was also the director of the ward, the workload tripled and Madison dived straight in, discussing the options with Shirley.

‘I’ve paged Terrence Hall, the CEO,’ Shirley said crisply, bustling out of Madison’s office over to the nurses’ station. And though Shirley’s voice and actions were supremely efficient, her red-rimmed eyes revealed the inner pain of dealing with the practicalities. ‘And I’ve asked Vic to send all the arriving staff into the main waiting room for a team meeting. I thought it might be easier if we tell everyone at once.’

‘That’s a good idea,’ Madison agreed. ‘A lot of the staff will only have met him during orientation or at their interviews, but for those that have worked with
him…’ She let out a long sigh. ‘There are going to be some very upset staff members.’

‘How far away does Mrs Dalton live?’ Shirley asked, glancing down at her watch and then frowning. ‘And will this new consultant know where to go?’

‘I expect so—from what Gerard told me, they knew each other well. He didn’t ask for an address or directions or anything and, given that it’s five minutes or so away, we ought to get things ready.’

By ‘things’ Madison meant the body, but some words didn’t need to be said and both women headed into Resus, determined to do their best for Gerard. And that now meant looking after his family.

Because Gerard’s death would most likely have to be investigated by the coroner, all the equipment such as chest pads and IV access had to be left untouched, so Shirley busied herself clearing away the chaos of wrappers and ampoules and syringes, tidying up the area to make it look as presentable as possible. Madison did up Gerard’s shirt over the equipment, her shaking hands trying to rearrange his cut tie, placing a pillow under his head and moving his arms out over the sheet so that his family would be able to hold his hands.

‘He looks peaceful,’ Shirley said, and even though it was a cliché, it was true—in death he looked ten years younger, the tension that must have held him together gone for ever now. ‘Should we move him over to a cubicle to give his family more privacy?’ She stopped as Guy’s solemn face appeared at the curtain. After a brief nod from Madison, he ushered in Gerard’s wife and all
the words Madison usually delivered at times like these faded before they even formed on her lips. Seeing the usually immaculate, proud Yvonne Dalton’s ashen, overwhelmed face as Guy gently guided her in told Madison no words were needed now, that Yvonne only needed to be with her husband.

The guttural scream was heart-wrenching and Madison drew her breath in sharply, biting down on her bottom lip as she guided Yvonne’s trembling hand to her husband’s while Guy placed a chair behind her, his strong hands helping her to sit.

‘Would you like us to leave you alone, Yvonne?’ Madison asked. The woman gave a distracted nod.

‘Yvonne?’ Guy’s voice was supremely gentle. ‘Can I—?’

‘I’m fine.’ Yvonne bristled, angry accusing eyes swinging towards him. ‘I’d like to be left alone.’

‘How was she?’ Madison asked when they were out of earshot at the nurses’ station. ‘When you were at the house?’

‘Much as you’d expect,’ Guy said, revealing nothing. But his strained expression told Madison it hadn’t been easy. ‘I rang her son and daughter for her—her hands were shaking too much—and they’re on their way in from the City. They shouldn’t be very long. Look, I hate to ask, I’m not usually known for passing the buck, but could I ask you to deal with Yvonne when she comes out? I think I’m only upsetting her more.’

‘Of course,’ Madison agreed, but, seeing his troubled expression, she felt it wasn’t quite enough. ‘Guy,
I know Yvonne seemed hostile in there but she doesn’t blame you for any of this, she’s just upset and confused at the moment. You’re the one who told her the bad news, so it’s you she’s reacting to.’

‘Perhaps,’ Guy said, but he sounded far from convinced. ‘But I think it would be better for everyone if I stay in the background while Yvonne’s around. OK, bring me up to speed. What have you done while I was gone?’

And even though Madison appreciated the directness of his question, was more than happy to concentrate on practicalities at the moment, she couldn’t help but feel Guy was changing the subject. ‘Vic’s directing all the staff into the main waiting room so that they can be told together. I’ve got out the interim death certificate forms for you and I’ve pinned the coroner’s number to the front. Shirley—the nurse supervisor—has paged the CEO. I suppose I should let Ambulance Control know.’

Ambulance Control?’ Guy frowned. ‘I thought we weren’t open to ambulances till eleven.’

‘We’re not,’ Madison said, ‘but we can hardly go ahead with opening.’ She registered his bemused expression and it infuriated her. ‘Guy, I don’t think you understand just how pivotal Gerard really is to this department.’

‘Perhaps not,’ Guy responded, ‘but, then, neither do the patients. In fact, I can guarantee that when someone’s baby starts convulsing or their husband develops chest pain, the last thing they’ll be expecting is a closed-for-business sign on the door. The only thing that will
be on their minds is that the new hospital opens today—thank heaven help’s close at hand.

‘We’ll address the staff in ten minutes.’

He didn’t await her response, which was just as well, Madison realized, because she didn’t have one. Instead, he turned and headed off. Seeing Yvonne come out shakily from behind the curtain, Madison guided the distraught woman to the interview room and sat with her in silence for a few minutes as Yvonne quietly wept. She offered the occasional tissue but deliberately didn’t speak, allowing Yvonne to guide her in what she needed from Madison.

‘When he collapsed… ’Yvonne gulped, pleating the tissue between her fingers, her usually strong voice strangled in pain as she forced the words out. ‘When Guy arrived and Gerard collapsed, what did he say?’

‘He didn’t say anything, Yvonne,’ Madison said gently. ‘It all happened very quickly.’

‘I know that,’Yvonne answered through gritted teeth, ‘but I need to know what was said, I need to know what—’ Her frustrated words halted abruptly and Madison didn’t rush to fill the silence, rehearsing in her mind what to say. Yvonne’s response was very normal, trying to glean anything she could from the last moments of her loved one’s life, trying to find out if something, anything, had been said that she could cling to, a tiny message that maybe she alone might understand. But in Gerard’s case there had been nothing and gently Madison attempted to explain that.

‘Guy arrived,’ Madison said slowly, ‘but he was
locked out. Gerard and I were on our way to meet him at Reception. We were just chatting about the day ahead, having a coffee before we started work. Gerard wasn’t in pain or anything, I had no idea what was about to happen.’ She watched Yvonne frown as she delivered the words and Madison knew that she had to be very gentle, that this short but vital conversation would stay with Yvonne for ever, that she needed to know every detail of her husband’s last moments. ‘I headed off to let the new consultant in and I thought Gerard was following me, only when I turned around I realized that he was in trouble, he had lost consciousness and was sliding to the floor. He didn’t cry out, he didn’t complain of any pain. I don’t think that Gerard suffered for even a second.’

‘And he never regained consciousness?’ Yvonne asked, frowning as Madison’s words sank in.

‘I’m sorry, no,’ Madison affirmed. ‘I started cardiac massage. Guy had seen what had happened and raced around to assist. He grabbed some vital equipment on the way and we both did everything we could to save your husband, but unfortunately there was nothing that could be done.’

‘He didn’t say anything?’ Yvonne checked. ‘He didn’t speak to Guy?’

‘No.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ Yvonne snapped, her eyes angry now. ‘I need to know what was said, Madison!’

Madison now frowned, uncertain what Yvonne wanted to know. Initially she had assumed Yvonne was hoping for some tiny whisper from Gerard, a deathbed
declaration, but as Madison stared back at the other woman she wasn’t sure what, if anything, Yvonne was hoping to hear. Checking herself, Madison forced the muscles in her face to relax, to wipe away her slightly perturbed frown, and, as she had learnt in counseling sessions with bereaved relatives, to let Yvonne lead the way.

‘You’re telling me,’ Yvonne finally continued when Madison remained silent, ‘that Gerard collapsed and died without a single word, that there was no exchange of words between him and you or Guy?’

‘None,’ Madison confirmed. ‘Yvonne, I wish I could say different, I wish that Gerard had had enough time to say what he wanted to, but the truth is he didn’t. I know at the moment that doesn’t give you much comfort, but in the days and weeks that follow maybe you’ll be able to draw some strength from the fact that Gerard truly didn’t suffer, that not for a single moment was he anything other than the vibrant man we all knew and loved.’

‘I do.’Yvonne nodded. ‘You’re right, Madison, I take a lot of comfort from that.’

Madison watched as Yvonne visibly relaxed, watched as her words sank in. She was slightly taken aback to see just how quickly those words appeared to take effect.

‘Thank you for your help, Madison, and for all you did for Gerard. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to make a few telephone calls. Could I trouble someone for a cup of coffee?’

‘Of course.’ Madison nodded. ‘I’ll arrange for a tray to be brought in to you.’

‘And would it be possible to have some headache tablets? I don’t have any in my bag.’

‘I’ll get you some now.’

Slightly bemused by Yvonne’s rather abrupt turnaround, Madison quietly left the room, closing the door gently behind her. She frowned as she did so, then gave herself a quick mental shake. It wasn’t for her to judge—she’d dealt with literally hundreds of bereaved relatives in her time and if she’d learnt one thing, it was that no two reactions were the same.

People grieved in their own way.

By the time Madison had given Yvonne two headache tablets and asked Vic if he would mind making Mrs Dalton a cup of coffee, preferably in a china cup if he could find one, her ten minutes were more than up. Grimacing as she glanced at her watch, she headed off to the waiting room, finally ready to address the staff and let them know what had taken place and the reason they had been ushered in for this impromptu meeting. It never entered her head that Guy would have already started, that by the time she arrived at the waiting-room entrance the news would already have been broken!

‘This has come as a huge shock to all of us, especially to those of you who have had the pleasure of working alongside Gerard over the years. However…’ He paused just long enough for the shocked chatter to stop, just long enough to shift the tone and command the room. ‘We have a department due to open in less
than two hours and ambulances will be pulling into the bay in less than four, and that means I need some honesty from you guys. I need you to decide honestly whether or not you’re able to work. If not, go home.’

The brutality of his words had Madison inwardly wincing. She fought an impulse to walk right up and override him—how dared he swan in and demand peak efficiency? How dared he act as if nothing had really happened! But as Guy continued talking, she found herself listening instead, examining her own conscience as he eloquently continued.

‘There can be no excuses,’ Guy explained. ‘If you can’t do your job today then you’re welcome to leave with no further explanation. I’ll sign you off on compassionate leave with full pay. I don’t want to be staring at a pile of incident reports at the end of the day, I don’t want to hear that you were so upset about what happened that you gave the wrong drug or made an error of judgement, I don’t want to sit in the interview room with grieving relatives, knowing that their loved one didn’t receive the best possible care. Now, have a coffee and try to get your head around what’s happened, and then, those who are up for it, business as usual in fifteen minutes.’ For the first time in his speech his eyes met Madison’s. ‘Gerard Dalton wouldn’t expect anything less from any of you.’

‘He’s good, isn’t he?’ Shirley whispered. ‘Personally, I was all ready to close the department for the day, but what Guy says makes sense, doesn’t it?’

‘I guess.’ Madison shrugged, but her shoulders were
so rigid with tension they barely moved. She watched as the staff swarmed around Guy, asking questions, seeking reassurance, turning to him. She hated herself for being so petty.

Guy had achieved in minutes what had taken her months to achieve.

He’d created a team.

As the crowd dispersed, Guy made his way over. ‘Well?’ Pretending she had no idea what he was talking about, Madison frowned up at him.

‘Well, what?’

‘Are you staying or going home?’

‘It was never my intention to go home,’ Madison responded through slightly gritted teeth. ‘I merely suggested that we delay opening the department for a day. However, on reflection, I can see it would be better to go ahead as planned.’

‘Good,’ Guy responded, and Madison couldn’t help feeling as if he’d won a battle she hadn’t even realised had been taking place.

‘Right!’ She gave a brisk smile. ‘I’d better go and check on Yvonne, and, given that the staff are all here and we’ll be opening shortly, you’ll be wanting to get changed.’

‘Changed?’ It was Guy frowning now.

‘You are the new consultant?’ Madison pretended to check, running a slightly dismissive eye over his jeans and T-shirt.

‘Oh.’ Guy let out relieved laugh and started to rummage
in his pocket. Madison watched in horror as he pulled out an ID badge and hung it around his neck.

‘Thanks for reminding me!’

‘So how was your first day?’ Helen beamed, pulling open her front door and ushering Madison inside. ‘You must be exhausted.’