Sydney Harbour Hospital: Zoe's Baby. Alison Roberts
that suggested he was Polynesian.
Right now, he had the baby, wrapped in a blanket, in his arms. He didn’t notice Zoe’s glance because he was looking down at the child. And … he was smiling. He was also radiating an aura of calmness. As if it was nothing out of the ordinary to be holding a baby at the scene of a major accident. As if he was actually enjoying it.
She was close enough to be able to hear if the baby was crying and she couldn’t hear even a whimper. Zoe wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if she’d walked over there to find that the baby was smiling back up at him and, for some inexplicable reason that was irritating.
‘What’s the baby’s status?’ It came out almost as a snap.
OK, maybe the reason wasn’t that inexplicable. How was it that this guy—who looked as if he was a rugby star or a bouncer at some night club or something—could make it look as if caring for a baby was easy. Fun, even, when she was a mother, for heaven’s sake, and that kind of calmness or pleasure was … unimaginable.
It took an effort to tune in to what Tom was saying in response to her terse query.
‘All checked out fine. Totally protected by the car seat, probably, but he’ll need observing for a while. Teo says he’ll drop into ED as soon as he gets his car clear of this traffic jam and make sure he gets a thorough assessment.’
Zoe turned away from the sight of the big man cuddling an uninjured child. She should thank him for his assistance but she had more important things to do for the moment and maybe she’d catch him later in the ED anyway. She checked the monitor display on the life pack as the helicopter crew secured it to the stretcher her patient was now strapped onto.
‘Let’s get moving,’ she said.
‘Hold up …’ A police officer was hurrying towards them. ‘This is her handbag. You might want her details. Her name’s Michelle Drew, aged 34.’
‘Thanks.’ Zoe took the bag. ‘Any next-of-kin details?’
‘We’re trying to contact her husband. We’ll direct him to the hospital. You going to the Harbour?’
Zoe nodded, already moving to follow the crew. The stretcher was rolled swiftly to the back of the waiting chopper and then smoothly loaded. The doors were pulled shut and the rotor speed picked up until they lifted clear of the scene for the short run to the central city hospital.
Zoe had to suppress a smile at the adrenaline rush of being airborne as she moved to help monitor this critically ill patient. The smile was still there inside, though, as she took a quick glance down at the scene they were leaving.
She was more than ready for this kind of a party. She had missed this life so much.
The mass of vehicles and people grew rapidly smaller as they gained height but one figure stood out from the rest. The big man with the baby still in his arms. He was looking up, she noticed, watching them take off.
‘Pressure’s still dropping,’ The voice came through the earphones in her helmet. ‘Zoe, can you see if you can get another line in?’
By the time Teo walked back to where he’d parked his car on the motorway shoulder, the traffic was moving again. It took less than thirty minutes for him to get to a parking space at Sydney Harbour Hospital and walk into the state-of-the-art emergency department via the ambulance bay.
The triage nurse, wearing a headset with earphones and a microphone, looked up from directing the latest ambulance arrival to smile at Teo. There were more smiles as he went into the department. He’d learned a long time ago that the medical staff on the front line appreciated that a head of department took an interest in patients from the moment they arrived and, whenever possible, Teo would answer a call for a consult from the paediatric department instead of sending a junior doctor.
He went towards the glass board that had the ever-changing details of what patient was where. A glance to his left showed that the major trauma resuscitation area was crowded with staff. The bright red overalls of the helicopter rescue medics were on one side of the room as they observed what was happening with the patient that had to be the woman from the crushed car. His patient’s mother.
Did that mean that the intensive care paramedic was still here as well? Zoe? He’d seen her leap into the helicopter. Superwoman. Directing a major incident one minute, crawling into a wrecked vehicle the next and then winging her way to the helipad here. Teo hadn’t missed what she’d been doing in between either. The intubation and chest decompression on that woman couldn’t have been easy procedures but they’d been done well and had undoubtedly saved a life.
Zoe wasn’t in the resus area, however. He could see her standing quietly on one side of the huge glass board, scanning it for information. On the other side of the board, at the other end, were two other people, intently in conversation.
Teo knew both of them. Finn Kennedy was a neighbour, of sorts. He had the penthouse in the Kirribilli View Apartments, a nearby complex that many of the staff, including Teo, lived in. Finn was also the director of surgery here at the Harbour and was probably as frequent a visitor to this department as Teo was, but he knew that Finn’s visits were far less welcome. No one could deny Finn’s brilliance but it came with a price. Only the ignorant or very confident would attempt to stand up to this man and the person talking to him right now was definitely in the latter category.
Evie Lockheart, reputedly a rising star amongst the ED doctors, was also a resident at Kirribilli View, where she shared an apartment with another junior doctor, Mia McKenzie. Teo would have known about her anyway, however, because her family had the status of royalty around this place. Evie was the great-granddaughter of the man who had founded this hospital and, according to the rumour mill, it was now her father’s generous contributions that kept the Harbour amongst the most prestigious teaching hospitals in Australia. Teo had heard that there was no love lost between Finn and Evie but what he was seeing right now made him pause.
‘Send her to CT first,’ Finn was saying. ‘I’ll have a theatre free in thirty minutes. It’ll take that long to see what you’re dealing with.’
‘It’ll take less time than that for her to crash. She’s got a haemothorax that’s barely under control. We’re losing fluid as fast as we can load it. There’s an arterial bleed going on in there. She’s lost the pulse in her right arm and she could lose the limb if we can’t get in and deal with the damaged artery. Now, Mr Kennedy, not in thirty minutes.’
‘And what is it, exactly, that you want from me, Dr Lockheart?’
What indeed? It wasn’t the conversation that was piquing Teo’s interest. It was more the way they were standing.
Too close?
Or maybe it was the way they were looking at each other. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that that kind of eye contact was about something a lot less professional than juggling a theatre queue. It was ridiculous but it was making him feel like he was eavesdropping on a private conversation. Maybe he should step away. But Zoe was here. Was she listening too? A sideways glance seemed to coincide with exactly the same movement from the paramedic. For a split second they held the eye contact and he knew they were on the same wavelength. Teo stepped closer.
‘I’ve just come in to check on the baby,’ he said quietly. ‘Do you know where he is?’
They both turned back to scanning the board. The department was clearly very busy. Dozens of boxes were filled with the scrawl of marker pen.
The voices on the other side of the board were fainter now.
‘But didn’t one of your recent edicts stipulate that there would always be a theatre kept free for emergencies from this department?’
Evie Lockheart wasn’t a short woman. In the heels she was wearing now, she was only a few inches shorter than Finn’s six feet or so. And the way she was holding herself at this moment made her seem even taller.
‘There is. You’re using it.