She shook her hand and grimaced. ‘My God, they’re right. You really do have the body of a PT instructor rather than a doctor. No wonder you’re so ridiculously arrogant.’
‘Not arrogance,’ Tak hunched his shoulders. ‘At least not intentionally. It’s just fact. No matter how clear I try to be at the start that I’m not in it for a relationship which is going to lead to marriage down the line.’
‘Well, not this time. I’ve met her, and I’ve seen what she’s like with every guy who has tried to flirt with, bar none. She totally shoots them down. Nicely but firmly, no hesitation. Trust me—she is definitely not going to change her mind about wanting a relationship any time in the next lifetime or so.’
‘I don’t have to trust you.’ Eyeing the clock, Tak began to make his move. ‘I’m not doing it. Even for you, Little Hemavati.’
She swatted him, laughing. ‘Only Mama calls me Hemavati. Just like she calls you Talank. It’s her twisted way of trying to show she’s in control. But at least wait and see Effie. You never know. You might actually like her. She’s focussed and driven—just like you. And she’s also pretty stunning.’
‘I’m going now.’
Tak slung his bag onto his back and prepared to head out into the corridor just as the double doors on the other side of Resus banged open and the air ambulance crew burst through with their patient. The new doctor with them had to be this Effie person.
Suddenly he realised he’d seen her once before. A couple of months ago when she’d brought in a forty-eight-year-old head injury patient—Douglas Jacobs, who had taken a tumble down a rocky hillside.
‘This is Danny, a male cyclist in his twenties,’ the young woman announced clearly, expediently, her eyes moving quickly across the resus team, taking in the faces and commanding them with ease. ‘About one hour ago he was travelling at approximately twenty-five miles per hour when a car pulled out of a side road in front of him. Danny tried to swerve but hit the car and was seen to be thrown about three metres into the air before striking the ground with some force.’
Tak lowered his bag again, his attention focussed on the new doctor. He couldn’t have said what made him stay. Or perhaps he just didn’t want to acknowledge it.
Hetti had been right—although neither of them had realised it. Dr Effie Robinson had indeed impressed him. Along with Douglas Jacobs their patient.
‘He was wearing a crash helmet but it shattered on impact. Witnesses say he was unconscious for possibly ten seconds. On arrival GCS was nine.’
There was nothing unusual in any of this. Not the patient, not the injuries, not the doctor. So why was he so transfixed? Watching her command the team in her bright orange flight suit, with her glossy hair—a rich, deep red colour—scraped back so severely and twisted so tightly into a bun that it made his eyes water just looking at it?
Last time he’d seen her but hadn’t paid attention. He’d been too focussed on his patient. But this time it wasn’t his patient. And his attention was all on her.
Why? Because she had red hair and blue eyes? Unusual, but hardly unique. So...what?
There was nothing to soften her appearance—not even a hint of make-up. Yet there was no doubt that she was beautiful. And something else—something he couldn’t pinpoint, something innate that spilled out from those icy blue eyes. Despite himself, Tak found he was staring, caught up by her and helpless to do anything other than stop and listen.
She barely needed to pause and check her notes. Words flowed smoothly whilst her control of the situation was flawless. He had seen plenty of efficient, skilled air ambulance doctors but she stood out—just as she had a few weeks ago.
There was no reason he should be edging closer, as though he was a latecomer to the team. Her gaze took in the team again, and then she lifted her eyes and connected with his.
Everything stopped. Any thoughts in his head evaporated, leaving...nothing. It was like nothing that he’d ever experienced before.
So this was Effie.
He stared, unable to look away, and then, incredibly, she blinked once and moved on to the rest of the team. Her voice as steady, and as clear, as even as before. Whilst he felt, by contrast, as though his chest had just been belted by the downdraft from a set of helicopter rotor blades. It was an unfamiliar experience.
‘He has been intubated and has a right thoracotomy with a flailed segment. Top-to-toe injuries: closed head injury, a six-centimetre right temporal laceration, right clavicular fracture, suspected dislocated shoulder, suspected multiple rib fractures, right thoracotomy and a pelvic splint was applied. He’s had morphine and midazolam for sedation and was stable during transfer. Immediate needs are further assessment and imaging to check for internal organ damage.’
She wrapped things up neatly, her gaze steady.
‘Okay, we’re going to need a whole-body CT, but he isn’t stable enough yet to take for imaging.’ Hetti stepped in smoothly. ‘Allison, what’s his BP and heart-rate?’
Effie stepped back to allow the team to take over, nonetheless still on hand to answer any further questions. It was testament to both teams that the handover was seamless, and Effie was soon completing her final paperwork.
Whilst he still stood there. Still watching her. His brain still struggling to get back into gear.
The only thoughts rattling around his head now were echoes of Hetti’s words to him. Her ludicrous suggestion which wouldn’t have been out of place in a school playground.
And yet here he was, unable to get it out of his head. As though, fittingly, he was nothing but a schoolboy. Yet he’d never been a schoolboy—at least not in that sense of the term.
Even as a teenager he’d been the man of the house. Hetti was right—he had practically raised Hetti and Rafi and Sasha. Sometimes alongside their mother—or Mama as Hetti called her—but oftentimes in lieu of her. Especially after Baby Saaj had been born. Ill from the start, his two years on this earth had been a fight every second of every day.
For years Tak had shielded his younger siblings from his father’s absences as much as possible. Listening to their mother offer up one convincing excuse after another, praising his father’s work as a doctor so they wouldn’t realise what a derelict father and cruel husband he was.