Found: A Father For Her Child Part 4

Charlie could hear Carrie's soothing a.s.surances as he a.s.sessed Rick's condition. He recognised the tremulous husk in it from last night. Was she spinning out over there, like last night? Would she vomit? Faint? d.a.m.n it, he needed to concentrate on this, not her!

Rick wasn't coming round. His lips had pinked up. His saturations were good. He was breathing a little more but still not adequately enough. Charlie grabbed a Narcan minijet from the IV trolley, flipped off the plastic lids and quickly a.s.sembled it. Time was of the essence.

He plunged the needle into Rick, administering the narcotic antagonist to reverse the effects of the drug. Rick wasn't going to like it but he was too drugged that oxygen alone would eventually bring him round.

Moments later Rick took a huge gulping breath and then another. He shook his head from side to side and tried to push Charlie's hands and the mask away. He started to cough, then gag. Charlie and Donny rolled him on to his side and he stilled momentarily. Moments later he started flailing around again and succeeded in ripping the oxygen mask away.

He sat up abruptly and swore a lot.

'Easy,' Charlie said gently.

Rick lurched off the bench. 'G.o.d d.a.m.n it! My hit, man, you wasted my hit.'

Tilly started crying again.

'Shut that kid up,' the man bellowed, and staggered out of the room, knocking over a few chairs on his way out of the clinic.

Donny started after him.

'Let him go,' Charlie said, taking Rick's abuse on the chin. He knew it was hopeless to point out that he'd just saved his life. He'd been saving drug addicts from their overdoses for five years, sometimes as much as one a day, and very few of them were ever grateful. In fact, Rick's behaviour was typical. G.o.d knew what he'd had to do to score the money for his. .h.i.t and he had gone and ruined it by injecting a drug that not only sucked up the respiratory depressant effects but also sucked up the euphoric effects.

Carrie stared after the man while she tried to quieten a scared Tilly. 'Doesn't he need to go to hospital?'

'No,' Donny said, leaning heavily against the bed. 'All he needs is to score again.'

Carrie shook her head. Try as she may, she couldn't understand the addict mentality. How could somebody who once upon a time must have been as innocent as the squirming toddler she held in her arms waste it all like that?

Tilly was reaching for her uncle and Carrie held her close a moment longer, gave her an extra-big squeeze then handed her over with still shaking hands.

'You OK?' Charlie asked. She was looking pale again, like she had last night.

She nodded. 'I think I'll just sit down for a bit.'

Charlie watched her walk out of the room and sink into one of the seats in the waiting area. 'You OK?' he asked Donny.

'Sure, but I'd better go. My sister will be starting to wonder what I've done with Tilly.'

'We can't have that, now, can we?' Charlie pulled a face at the little girl and was rewarded with a watery smile. 'Come on, I'll walk you out.'

'Wave goodbye to the nice lady, Tilly,' Donny crooned as they pa.s.sed where Carrie was sitting.

''Night, Tilly.' Carrie smiled at the toddler, suddenly desperately missing her own little girl as Tilly gave her a shy wave. This was a whole different world-grungy and gritty and real-and she was pleased her child would never be exposed to it.

Carrie watched Charlie and Donny walking to the door, their deep voices hushed but reaching her nonetheless.

'You taking your medication?' Charlie asked.

'Of course, Doc. I promise. What about you?'

'Absolutely. But it'll be fine, Donny, don't worry. Really.'

'I'm so sorry, Doc...'

They walked outside and Carrie couldn't hear them any longer. Intriguing. Medication for what? Did that have something to do with the tablets she'd seen Charlie taking earlier that day? Sorry about what?

Charlie came back inside and wandered over to stand in front of her. 'You were great with Tilly. Thanks.'

'There'd be something wrong if I wasn't. Little girls are somewhat my specialty these days.'

Charlie chuckled. 'Still, you didn't...'

'What? Choke? Like last night?'

He smiled. 'I was going to say freeze, but if you prefer choked...'

Carrie smiled. 'Don't judge me on what happened last night. I'm afraid I'm just not a clinician.'

But she was so good with Tilly. She'd been scared but he'd also heard compa.s.sion in her voice, seen it in the way she'd held the toddler close. And the way she had held that wound last night had been the epitome of professional technique. Maybe she was being too harsh on herself? 'Really? Why? Did something happen?'

Carrie stood up. She couldn't talk about this with a stranger. She found it hard enough to discuss with her nearest and dearest. 'It's just not me. I'm not...good with people...with patients. Fortunately I found that out early. Goodnight. See you in the morning.'

Carrie was at the door when his words halted her.

'He died, you know. Three hours after getting to hospital.'

Her hand stilled on the handle. 'Yes, I know,' she said, and walked out the door.

Charlie ran his finger back and forth along the rolled plastic edge of the chair where she'd been sitting. Quite the conundrum was Dr Carrie Douglas. She'd said she wasn't good with people yet she'd taken the time to ring the hospital and find out what had happened to the man from last night.

Only the good ones did that.

CHAPTER THREE.

BY FRIDAY lunchtime Carrie was looking forward to escaping for two days. The drop-in centre was a very intense place to be. It was full of drifting kids and angry young men and jaded-looking young women. It attracted the drugged, drunk, violent and abusive of all ages. Too many of the faces told a heartbreaking story about the chilling, gritty reality of life on the streets and below the poverty line.

Carrie had just tried to keep out of the way. Charlie had been right. It was utter chaos most days. A crazy three-ring circus. On steroids. It wasn't her job to get involved. Her job was to complete a report for the hospital board on its riskiest enterprise. To establish the viability of the drop-in centre. And it wasn't looking good.

So for the rest of the week she'd stayed in the staffroom, tapping away on her laptop, sorting through mounds of paperwork, ignoring the various noises she heard from the other side of the door. The very loud music, the bad language, the punch-ups, the hysterical girls, the angry parents and the police.

She had also ignored the regular troop of sweaty boys in and out of her work area as she'd worked through lunchtimes. And the sounds of good-natured compet.i.tion drifting in through the high windows from the court outside. And the angry, tense exchanges that all too often broke out as recreation became serious.

And worst, the disturbing presence of Charlie as he teased, cajoled, laughed, pleaded, reasoned, flattered and coaxed his way into the hearts and minds of a bunch of tough kids living tough lives. It was clear he was well respected by the regulars. Her ears homed in on his strong authoritative voice each lunch-hour as he encouraged and mediated, pushing the teens to be their best.

It sounded just like the voice he'd used with her at the accident scene. Calm. Confident. Positive. Designed to get the most out of a person, the best out of a situation. It put you at ease, made you feel-made you believe-you could do it. And combined with that crooked smile of his and his s.h.a.ggy, unruly, rock-star hair that flopped endearingly into his eyes, it got results. Heaven knew, he'd managed to bring her back from the frightening grip of escalating panic.

The back door opened and startled her out of her reverie. The usual ragtag crowd jostled through the staffroom, laughing and joking, crowing over who'd won and who'd shot the most baskets.

Charlie and Joe trooped in after them. Joe grinned at her, gulped down a cold bottle of water from the fridge and burped loudly. 'Needed that.' He winked at her. 'Gotta go, Charles. See you next week, Carrie.'

Carrie smiled. 'See ya, Joe.' She watched Joe leave the room and noticed how he signalled to Charlie with his index finger as if indicating the number one and then shot him a thumbs-up. Did he mean Charlie only had to put up with her for one more week?

Charlie rolled his eyes at his friend. 'See you over the weekend.' He was pleased when Joe left. He was more than aware that Carrie had caught Joe's sign language even if she did look baffled as to its meaning.

Carrie waited for the door to close. 'If you think I'll be done in a week, I think you'll be disappointed. You are an incredibly bad bookkeeper.'

Charlie chuckled. 'I know.' The paperwork had gone on hold also.

He looked sweaty and hot, his fringe plastered to his forehead. His crooked smile was s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. 'It wasn't meant to be funny,' she said coolly, annoyed that she was developing a growing fascination with his smile.

'I know.' He laughed again.

Carrie threw her gla.s.ses on the table in exasperation and got out of her chair to stretch her legs and back. 'You know, Charlie, if you spent as much time with the books as you do on the basketball court, things wouldn't be in such a mess.'

Charlie gripped the edge of his locker, his peripheral vision full of Carrie twisting and flexing through her middle, emphasising the arch of her back and pushing her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s temptingly against the electric blue silk of her blouse. Her jacket was hanging off the back of her chair and he wished she'd leave the d.a.m.n thing on.

He rustled around for his meds. 'Being fit is important. It keeps me on the ball. Helps me work better with these kids.'

Carrie flopped out of her stretch, her gaze following his progress to the sink. 'You take this fitness thing seriously, don't you?' she asked as she watched him swallow his pills.

He could feel her heavy whiskey gaze on him as he downed the medication and he had to concentrate on not choking on the tablets. He emptied the gla.s.s and turned to face her. 'I do what I can.'

'You do more than most. You take a lot of vitamin supplements.'

'Oh...yeah,' He turned away and placed his gla.s.s in the sink. Vitamins. Right.

He was lying. She caught a flicker of something in his usually open grey gaze before he turned away abruptly. So what were they if they weren't vitamins? There were at least three tablets he took every lunch-hour.

Angela bustled into the room. 'I'm sorry, Charlie, but Lilly's sick. The school's called. I'm going to have to leave.'

Oh, great! The immunisation clinic. 'She OK?'

Angela shrugged. 'A fever.'

'Pop her in to me later, I'll check her out.'

Angela looked uncertain. 'The immunisation clinic, Charlie.'

'Don't worry, I'll manage. Just go.' He smiled.

'It'll take you twice as long without me,' Angela protested.

'I'll manage. Carrie will help,' Charlie added, and shot his most confident smile at his dubious receptionist.

Carrie gaped. Did he think she didn't have enough on her plate, without doing his work, too? She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind but he was looking at her with a plea in his eyes that she found hard to resist.

She shut her mouth and turned her head to look at Angela. The older woman was looking her up and down like she had the first day, her expression registering extreme doubt.

She glanced back at Charlie who gave her a wink and a nod.

'Ah...sure, I can.'

Angela gave her the once-over again and Carrie felt as if she'd been dressed down by the school princ.i.p.al and found wanting.

'You sure?' Angela asked her boss.

'I'll be fine,' Carrie b.u.t.ted in, before Charlie had a chance to answer.

Angela ignored her and repeated the question. 'Are you sure?'

He nodded. 'We'll be fine.'

'OK...thanks. I'll pop in later.'

They watched Angela leave. Carrie was miffed by Angela's lack of faith. She felt like the wallflower with braces at a high school prom.

'You are still a registered doctor, aren't you?' he asked as the door shut.

'Of course,' she said indignantly.

He shrugged. 'Hey, something obviously happened with you. I thought you may have been deregistered.'

Obviously? Was it that obvious? 'Most certainly not,' she said primly, drawing herself up to her full height.

'I'm sorry.' He shrugged. 'I just a.s.sumed...'

'Like I a.s.sumed about the vitamins?' she asked sweetly.

Charlie gave her a grudging smile. 'Touche. Clinic starts in fifteen minutes.'

Now, this she could handle. Surely? Giving a few needles was hardly the same as lending a hand at an accident scene. No one's life was in the balance. There wouldn't be blood or the horrifying urgency of every second counting. A quick jab, dry a few tears, console a few stressed mothers and send them on their way. Anyone could do it.

The waiting area was crowded with men, women and children of all ages when she walked out on shaky legs. For once the brooding teenagers had been completely driven out of the clinic.

'There's a lot of people out there,' she said, leaning against the doorframe of the treatment room.

He nodded. She'd put her jacket back on and he was grateful for it. The full power suit reminded him why she was there. Which was what he needed after seeing her languorous stretch in the staffroom. 'Angela makes sure the immunisation clinic has a high local profile.'

'You're right, she is indispensable.' Carrie had been more than impressed over the course of the week. Angela was efficient, ran the place with military precision and could stare down a sullen teenager or stoned user better than the scariest sergeant major. Not one regular dared to give Angela any lip.

Charlie gasped dramatically. 'Me, right? Can I get that in writing?'