arched for a cause. 'She's got tracheal deviation,' he said, straightening up and glancing round the assembled team. 'This baby has a tension pneumothorax. Will, have you got a line in yet?'
His voice was sharp and sweat beaded on Will's brow. 'No. It's impossible.' There was no trace of his usual flippancy. 'Everything seems to have shut down. There's nothing.'
Ben's expression was grim. 'Let me try. You take over here.'
The two doctors swapped places and Ben picked up the baby's tiny hand, flicking it gently with his finger to try and find a vein.
'See what I mean?' Will's tone was quiet. 'Nothing. We'll have to use an intraosseous needle.'
In small children an infusion was sometimes given straight into the bone if a vein couldn't be located quickly.
Ben ignored him, all his attention focused on the tiny hand in front of him. Eyes slightly narrowed, he rubbed the skin again and then glanced briefly at Ellie.
'Squeeze here for me.'
She did as he'd instructed and he took the tiny venflon and slid it under the skin. Blood flowed backwards and there was a collective sigh of relief.
'My God, you've done it!' Will stared in amazement and then gave a short laugh. 'Have you got X-ray eyes?'
Ben didn't respond. He was too busy trying to save the baby's life. His hands as steady as a rock, he strapped the venflon firmly in place and glanced up at the ECG monitor. 'Get me some normal saline, and give her a bolus of 20 mils. I suspect she's hypovolaemic. We need to sort out this pneumothorax. Where the hell are the paediatricians?'
'Right here.' The consultant strode up to the trolley and Ben handed him the cannula.
'That's what I call immaculate timing. I'd leave this job to you if you don't mind.'
His colleague gave a brief nod and inserted the cannula into the lower part of the intercostal space. As he withdrew the needle there was a hiss of gas.
'Any sign of a pulse?'
Ellie taped the cannula to the chest wall and the paediatrician gave a nod to his team. 'We need to put in a chest drain and take an X-ray.'
'She's got a pulse!'
Ben's face cleared and he closed his eyes briefly. 'Thank God. All right, we need to check her for other injuries. Let's get her stable and then you chaps can take her.'
The paediatrician was still working on the baby; 'Has anyone spoken to the parents? What happened?'
Ben's mouth tightened and something flickered behind his dark eyes. An emotion that Ellie couldn't interpret. When he spoke, his voice was businesslike.
'Apparently the mother was driving too fast and hadn't fastened the little one's seat belt properly. She was in the back.'
'So she must have hit the front seat...' The other doctor gave a slow nod as his mind raced through other possible injuries. 'So that's where the pneumothorax came from, then. Let's see what else is lurking.'
It was another hour before the baby was stable enough to be transferred to the paediatric intensive care unit.
'Ellie, can you find the mother and tell her that I'll be with her in five minutes?' Ben's expression was suddenly strained and Ellie frowned.
'Why don't you go and grab a cup of tea or something?' she suggested quietly. 'I'll deal with the mother until you're ready to talk to her.'
'No.' He shook his head and took a deep breath. 'I just need a minute, alone.'
'Ben—'
'Alone!'
His voice was a growl and she swallowed and backed away, hating to leave him but helpless to know what else to do.
He clearly wasn't prepared to open up to her, to tell her what was wrong, and instinctively she knew that it would be wrong to press the issue. This wasn't the time or the place.