EXCERPT
Wednesday,
25th September 2014, 11:45 PM
Vibrations
shot across Dr. Keon McGowan’s hip as he placed a sterile gauze pad against the
head of the frightened teenager sitting in cubicle nine. “I think there’s more blood
than damage,” he reassured the youngster with a warm smile. Although the fifteen-year-old
would need stitches, he’d been lucky on all accounts. Keon looked up at the boy’s
parents and continued. “I’d still like a couple of scans. It's routine with head
injuries, and it's likely the on-call neurologist will want to keep him overnight
for observation just to be on the safe side.”
Keon gave
them a nod as he removed his latex gloves, tossed them in the medical waste bin,
and washed his hands. He didn’t want to cut their time short, but as the head of
London’s largest trauma centre, Keon was acutely aware there were too many patients
still awaiting first assessments, and there wasn’t a single cubicle free in the
accident and emergency treatment area. He fielded calls between treating patients,
unable to move more than ten feet without someone calling his name. It was all in
a day’s work, except today, things were more hectic than usual, due to a massive
traffic accident involving almost 200 people less than three hours ago.
“I’ll arrange
for a porter to come as soon as possible,” Keon promised the parents of the fifteen-year-old
at the end of the consultation. “But I’m sure you can appreciate they’re stacked
out at the moment, as is the imaging department. I’m sorry it’s going to be a bit
of a wait.”
They nodded,
and Keon swiftly left the cubicle as his mobile vibrated against his hip again.
Quickly, he glanced at the name on the screen. He wouldn’t normally take a personal
call in the middle of a crisis like this, but this caller resided on the other side
of the world. “I’m sorry, Sarah, but I can’t talk now.”
“Oh, hello,
Sarah. How are you? I’m fine, Keon, thank you for asking.” Her sarcasm was not missed,
but he was just too busy to acknowledge it. “But I thought I’d make this really
important phone call to remind you the doctors at Mount Cook are still waiting for
your call.”
“I’m sorry,
but I’ve got seventy-three people who were in an RTA three hours ago. I can’t talk
about this now.” He didn’t mean to be short, but the board had too many patients
for his liking, and his staff grew weary. He didn’t need Sarah on his back right
now. He returned to the nurses’ station. “Heather? Can you arrange for the patient
in cubicle nine to have a CT scan and page neurology, please?”
He handed
the patient file to the junior doctor as Sarah snapped, “Why haven't you confirmed
your meeting yet? You’re still coming on Tuesday, aren’t you? Both of you? It’s
just, I know what you’re like, Keon, and I can’t wait to see Lily. She’s getting
so big.”
“Yes, we’re
still coming on Tuesday,” he promised. The whole reason for the trip to New Zealand
when the school year had only just started was because he and Lily were looking
to move out there come the New Year. “I’m sorry, but it’s beyond frantic in here!”
He shouldn’t have answered the call, but the time difference and his long, hectic
shifts made catching Sarah just about impossible. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Sarah,”
he reassured her.
“You said
that yesterday,” she reminded him. “You know,” she began, and he braced for whatever
lecture his ex-wife was about to give. “Sometimes, you have to put the rest of the
world on hold for a little while, and do what’s right for you and Lily. There are
thousands of doctors capable of setting up a minor injuries clinic here in New Zealand,
but they're waiting for you. Do you want this opportunity or not?”
What kind
of question was that? Of course he wanted it. When he had quit his family’s practice
twelve years ago, Keon had never dreamed he would one day want to go back to being
a general practitioner. But the challenge of setting up a new clinic, combined with
the idea of working regular hours every day and being home in time to eat dinner
with Lily every night, now called to him more than he’d ever thought possible.
His ex-wife
couldn’t have said it better if she’d lectured him about putting his job before
Lily. The all-too-familiar blackness of guilt swamped Keon’s stomach. It was so
hard to manage a career as a single parent; there were days when he went without
seeing Lily at all. New Zealand was the answer. He was sure of it. He could have
the challenging career he craved, and be with Lily like a normal parent. And the
fact that Sarah was there would be a bonus. Although she wasn’t Lily’s biological
mother, she was the only mother Lily had ever known, and her new family had embraced
Lily like a sibling.
“You know
I do, Sarah.” He sighed.
“Then you
need to . . .” she started, but her words were drowned out by a voice calling his
name from across the Accident & Emergency department. Keon spun around. Men
in familiar green-and-yellow uniforms were wheeling a gurney through the doors,
towards the resuscitation bay.
The driver
of the car? She was alive? Impossible. It had been trapped beneath a toppled, double-decker
bus for hours. His feet began to move. “Sarah, I have to go.” Picking up his pace,
he headed through doors at the opposite end of the waiting room.
“You have
to ring and confirm the meeting before Friday,” she reminded him.
His attention
was no longer on Sarah but with the familiar, dark hair and pale skin that had haunted
his dreams for years.
“Unidentified
female driver,” one of the paramedics began. “Approximate age: mid- to late-thirties.
Lacerations to the head, neck, and shoulder. Swelling in the abdominal region. Neurologically
responsive but unconscious since emergency teams arrived on scene.”
Keon whispered
a name he prayed he'd never say again. He noticed a sickly yellow hue had overwhelmed
her otherwise ivory skin. He doubted anyone else would notice it at first glance.
Or a second. But Keon saw it. He saw it, because he'd spent ten years looking at
the same pale complexion in the daughter she’d walked away from.
“Darcy?”
The phone slipped from his fingers, clattering against the floor, but he didn’t
care. Darcy? It's not possible.
