St Piran's: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride (17 page)

As she neared the end of the promontory on which
the lighthouse, coastguard office and St Mark’s church stood, she heard shouting and laughter, and looked up to see a couple of teenagers messing about on the rocks. She was about to turn round and retrace her steps back along the beach when the tone of the teenage voices changed and she watched in horror as one of the boys lost his footing and crashed face down amongst the rocks.

Jess ran towards the scene of the accident, as did a few other people who were further away on the beach and up on the promontory. The teenager’s friend was now silent and standing motionless in shock and terror as he gazed down at his stricken comrade. Reaching the rocky outcrop, and glad she was wearing trainers, Jess began to climb.

The lower rocks were slippery, and several times she lost her own footing, resulting in umpteen cuts and bruises, but she kept going as rapidly as she could, fearing what she would find when she reached the boy. Moving towards him, she misjudged a step and fell heavily. Pain seared through her foot, leg and side, and she felt the hot stickiness of blood flowing down her calf. Ignoring it, she limped and scrambled awkwardly the rest of the way to the boy.

His injuries were worse than she’d feared. Frightened eyes stared up at her, and she struggled to mask her shock so as not to distress him further. His face had borne the brunt of his fall and, along with a lot of bleeding and considerable soft-tissue damage, she could tell that his jaw, nose and one cheekbone were all broken.

Instinct took over as she did a quick assessment. There were no other apparent injuries but that hardly mattered because there was one serious, immediate
and life-threatening problem… the boy was finding it increasingly impossible to breathe.

‘Has anyone called an ambulance?’ she shouted to the small crowd that was gathering on the rocks above her.

‘Yes,’ someone called. ‘ETA at least twelve minutes.’

Jess swore. They couldn’t wait that long. ‘I need a sharp knife?preferably a scalpel. And something like a small piece of tube, or a drinking straw. Anything narrow and hollow. He can’t breathe and I have to help him,’ she shouted up.

‘The lighthouse and coastguard station both have full first-aid kits. I’ll get one of those,’ the man called down to her.

‘Please hurry! There isn’t much time.’

Hoping the man understood the urgency, and that the kit would contain the things she needed, Jess returned her attention to the boy and tried to talk soothingly to him as she continued her assessment. With all the blood, fragments of bone and the rapidly swelling tissues around his face, there was no way she could clear or maintain an airway. It was no surprise when he began to panic as he failed to draw oxygen into his lungs and started to lose consciousness.

It seemed an eternity before the man reappeared above her and began the dangerous climb down. His exclamation of shock when he saw the boy was understandable but Jess didn’t have time to do anything but take the first-aid kit from him. She winced at the shaft of pain in her side as she dragged the heavy bag close, but she pushed her own discomfort aside and opened
the kit, giving heartfelt thanks that it was an extensive and well-stocked one.

Gathering together the things she needed, she told her unknown companion what she was doing. ‘I have to create an opening in his throat so he can breathe. We can’t wait for the ambulance. What’s your name?’

‘Charlie.’

‘I’m Jess. I…’ She paused and sucked in a breath. ‘I’m a doctor,’ she told him, speaking aloud the words she had not used for four years. ‘Have you got a mobile phone, Charlie?’

‘Yes, right here.’

‘Phone 999 and tell them we need the air ambulance, too,’ she requested, knowing that if what she attempted was successful, the boy would need to get to hospital as fast as possible.

As Charlie made the call, Jess focused on the task ahead. Nervousness gripped her. Shutting out the comments from the small crowds on the rocks above her and the beach below, she steadied herself and called on all her former training. She was scared, but she’d done this a few times before. She could do it now. She had to if the boy wasn’t to suffocate before the ambulance arrived. Closing her eyes, she did a quick mental run-through of the emergency procedure she had never expected to be called on to perform again.

After using an antiseptic wipe on the boy’s throat, she draped some gauze around the site and then she took out the sterile, single-use blade that was in the kit. She had no local anaesthetic available, but with his consciousness level low he probably didn’t need it. Unsure how aware he was, she told him what she needed to do, talking through it as much to steady herself as him.

With the fingers of one hand she felt for the correct spot on the throat and, with her other hand, made a small vertical incision through the skin. Identifying the cricothyroid membrane, she made a horizontal cut through it, careful to ensure that she didn’t damage the cartilage. With no proper tracheal spreader available she had to improvise again, and she used the handle of a small knife she found in the kit, inserting it into the incision and turning it so that it created a small passage. Already there was a life-saving flow of air in and out as the boy’s lungs inflated and reinflated.

‘Could you cut me some strips of tape, Charlie?’

As he obliged, Jess cut a piece of plastic tube to the right length and, with great care so as not to damage any cartilage or the vocal cords, angled it and slid it into the makeshift passageway. It was a temporary measure but it would keep the boy alive and his airway open until the paramedics arrived. Taking the strips Charlie handed her, she secured the tube in place.

‘Well done, Jess!’ Charlie praised when she had finished, giving a thumbs-up to the crowd on the promontory and beach, who broke into spontaneous applause.

Jess sat back and let out a shaky breath. ‘Thanks.’

It had only taken two or three minutes to complete the procedure and yet she felt weary and quite unsteady. Taking the boy’s hand, she continued to monitor his breathing, relieved that he was awake. She gently wiped away the blood from around his eyes—brown eyes that were now open again and staring at her with a mix of relief and fright and pain.

‘The ambulance will be here very soon,’ she reassured him, rewarded when his fingers tightened on hers.

He was going to need an excellent maxillofacial surgeon for reconstruction, Jess reflected, her thoughts interrupted by the sound of an approaching siren, and relief flowed through her as the ambulance arrived. Charlie moved the first-aid kit out of the way, then showed the paramedics the best way down the rocks. Jess recognised both men, who greeted her by name, their surprise evident as she debriefed them and they realised the role she had played in events.

Things passed in a blur after that. Charlie left, but Jess remained where she was, answering the occasional question but mostly watching the paramedics work. It wasn’t long before they were joined by the medics from the air ambulance and she had to give her debrief over again. Once the boy was stabilised, volunteers were needed to help extricate the stretcher from the difficult location, but before long he was off the rocks and on his way to St Piran’s in the helicopter.

‘Now, then, Jess, our heroine of the day, what about you?’ Stuart asked, squatting down in front of her while Mark cleared up their things and invited the more nosy and persistent onlookers to disperse.

‘Me?’ Jess frowned. ‘I’m fine.’

He chuckled. ‘I hardly think so, love. You’re pale as a ghost and your leg is a mess,’ he pointed out.

‘I’d forgotten all about it,’ she admitted, so focused had she been on what she needed to do.

‘You were a bit busy, weren’t you?’ His grin was infectious. ‘Are you hurt anywhere else?’

‘Just some cuts and bruises. I bashed my side and twisted my foot when I fell. It’s nothing. I’ll clean up at home,’ she assured him, anxiety setting in at the prospect of either Stuart or Mark treating her.

Pulling on a fresh pair of protective gloves, Stuart sat back and looked at her. ‘That’s a deep cut, Jess. You’ve lost a fair bit of blood and it’s going to need stitching. And that’s without getting the other things checked out.’

Her anxiety increasing, Jess bit her lip. She wished she could dismiss her injuries and refuse treatment, but looking at her leg she could see that the wound was bad and not something she would advise anyone else to try and take care of alone. As the adrenalin that had sustained her while waiting for the ambulance wore off, her foot and her ribs were also becoming increasingly painful and she feared she might have broken at least one bone. All of which meant she was going to have to tell Stuart the truth.

Fighting back an uncharacteristic welling up of tears, she sucked in a ragged breath. ‘Stuart, I…’ She hesitated, frightened what would happen when he knew.

‘What’s wrong, Jess?’ he prompted, his concern evident.

‘You need to double-glove,’ she told him, her voice unsteady, her lashes lowering so that she wouldn’t see the expression on his face. ‘I’m HIV positive.’

A few seconds of silence followed and she felt sick as she waited for the inevitable reaction to her admission. An errant tear escaped and landed on her cheek. It was Stuart’s hand that reached out to wipe it away and she glanced up, wide-eyed with surprise to see nothing but understanding and compassion in the forty-year-old father-of-three’s hazel eyes.

‘Don’t you worry, Jess, love. We’ll take good care of you.’

His kindness and easy acceptance, so at odds with
her earlier experiences?apart from Gio, of course? brought a fresh welling up of emotion. As Stuart set about dressing her leg, Jess struggled to push thoughts of Gio to the back of her mind. She wished more than anything that he was there with her now. But he wasn’t. She was on her own. Just as she had been these last four years.

Before she knew it, they were setting off on the thirty-minute drive from Penhally to St Piran, arriving a long time after the air ambulance had deposited their casualty. Stuart and Mark were wonderful, as was Ben Carter, into whose experienced, caring and understanding hands they delivered her.

Supportive and reassuring, Ben guarded her confidentiality and refused to make an issue of her status. By the time she had been X-rayed?thankfully there proved to be no breaks?and returned to A and E to have the deep cut on her leg stitched, her other cuts and grazes cleaned and a supportive bandage put on her swollen, painful foot, she was feeling tired and woozy. The antibiotics and pain medication she’d been given didn’t help.

Dismissing the nurse who had waited with her, Ben drew up a chair, sat down and sent her a warm smile. ‘I know you wanted news. The boy’s name is Will. He’s in Theatre and has the best of chances, thanks to you. You saved his life today, Jess. Care to tell me how you did it?’ he asked, signing off her notes and closing the file.

Her defences lowered by all that had happened, not just with Will and her own injury but the deep pain of Gio’s rejection and withdrawal, she found herself pouring the whole story out to Ben.

‘Surgery’s loss is St Piran’s gain,’ he told her a while later when her flow of words had ended.

‘Thank you.’

‘Does Gio know? Do you want me to call him?’

The two questions brought a fresh threat of tears. ‘Yes, he knows,’ she admitted, trying to steady her voice before she continued, forcing out the words. ‘But don’t call him. He’s in Italy. And we’re just friends.’

‘Friends?’ Ben raised a sceptical eyebrow.

‘You heard about his wife?’ she asked. When Ben nodded, she continued. ‘He’s not ready for a new relationship. Even if he was, it’s too much for him to take on someone like me.’

‘I wouldn’t give up on him too quickly, Jess.’

She appreciated Ben’s kindness but she had little hope left in fairy-tales. Resting her head back, feeling very tired, she sighed. ‘Can I go home?’

‘Not for a while, especially as you’ll be on your own once you get there,’ he added brushing aside her half-hearted protest.

A knock on the door curbed further conversation and senior staff nurse Ellen came in. Although she smiled, it was clear that something was bothering her and, before she closed the door, Jess heard the sound of some sort of commotion going on somewhere in the department.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ Ellen apologised. ‘Ben, we have a problem out here. Can you come?’

‘Yes, of course. Rest here for a while and try not to worry about anything, Jess. I’ll be back shortly to see you,’ he promised, giving her hand a squeeze before pushing back the chair and rising to his feet.

‘Thanks, Ben.’

‘Is there anything I can get for you, love?’ Ellen
asked, taking a moment to fuss with the sheet and pillows and make sure she was comfortable.

Feeling tired and washed out, Jess managed a smile. ‘No, thanks. I’m fine.’

As they left the room, leaving her alone, Jess closed her eyes. It was one thing to tell her not to worry, but she was finding it impossible when her thoughts were fixed firmly on Gio. Despite thinking she could never trust a man again, in such a short time she had fallen irrevocably in love. But he couldn’t feel the same about her and now, when she most needed his arms around her, he wasn’t there. Ben had told her not to give up, but why would Gio want someone who was living with a condition that could change at any moment and drastically reduce her life expectancy, causing him to lose someone else?

She’d taken a huge risk, opening her heart and allowing Gio into her life, and all too briefly she’d experienced a piece of heaven before it had been ripped away from her again. She had no idea what the future held in store. After years of uncertainty, she had found a place where she felt at home and could settle. Was that now all to change because of Gio?

As much as he’d enjoyed his couple of days back home in Italy, and especially celebrating his parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary, Gio continued to feel edgy and unsettled. For once it was nothing to do with returning to a place that reminded him of Sofia. His disquiet was all due to Jessica. Within hours he would be flying back to the UK and driving to the house he had shared with her in St Piran these last weeks. Knowing that she wouldn’t be there made that return a dismal prospect.