She saw Anya bend down to examine something in the grass, and got to her feet to see what it was. The little girl decided to make a race of it back to where Alistair was sitting, but suddenly he was taking no notice of them. The pager on his belt was vibrating and Alistair twisted it round to look at the tiny screen and accept the message.
‘Sorry, got to go. The clinic’s paged me...’ He was already on his feet, leaving his coffee on the bench behind him, and hurrying towards the entrance of the square.
It was like old times. But then they’d responded to the buzz of a pager together, and now she was left behind. Raina picked up his coffee, dumping it in the bin along with her own. Alistair had crossed the road and was taking the steps up to the front door of the clinic two at a time.
‘Are we going back?’ Anya was watching Alistair too, and Raina suddenly knew exactly what she was going to do next.
‘Yes, sweetie. And we’re going to run as fast as we can...’ Raina collected her bag and took Anya’s hand.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ONE OF THE nurses from the clinic met Alistair at the reception desk and before he had a chance to ask what the matter was, she had a reply for him.
‘There’s some trouble upstairs, in the group therapy room.’
Alistair nodded, making for the stairs. The clinic dealt with a number of PTSD patients and although the counsellors were skilled at nipping any disturbances in the bud, it was always a risk.
Upstairs, he found a group gathered around the door of one of the therapy rooms, the sound of yelling echoing out into the corridor. Everyone moved back as he approached, to clear his way to the door.
‘Thanks, everyone. Shall we move it downstairs...?’
The group began to disperse and Alistair looked for Joe, the counsellor who would have been taking the group. He was nowhere in sight and he must be inside the room still, along with whoever it was that was shouting at the top of his voice. Then he saw Raina, hurrying along the corridor towards him.
‘Where’s Anya?’ This was no situation for a child.
‘I left her with Kaia. She let me through the connecting door to the clinic, and I followed the noise.’
A small tingle of excitement threaded through Alistair’s veins. This was what it had been like when they’d first met. He’d been a newly minted doctor, while Raina had still been at medical school, and when she’d been rotated to his department the buzz of a pager in his pocket had meant just one thing. A shared glance, and they had been acting as one, hurrying to help. They’d moved past that first awkward meeting, on the banks of the Thames, when all Alistair had wanted Raina to do was stay out of the way and let him work.
‘Okay. Listen out for me, will you?’ There was no knowing what he might or might not be able to hear, but he knew for sure that if he missed something important, Raina would have his back.
She nodded, and he stepped in between her and the door, peering through the small pane of glass that gave a view of what was going on inside the room. It didn’t look good and he was going to need Raina’s help with this.
‘The counsellor, Joe, is in there and it looks as if he’s been hurt. Emma, one of the group, has stayed with him, she’s able to help as she’s a paramedic, but be aware that she has her own issues with confrontation. I don’t know the guy who’s doing all the shouting, he’s a new patient. I’ll try and calm him down, and if you can see an opportunity to get Joe and Emma out...’
He turned to Raina and she nodded. Alistair twisted the door handle quietly, opening the door.
* * *
Raina could hear the sound of a man’s voice, full of rage and pain. As Alistair opened the door she could see inside. A man was pacing up and down, stopping only to strike his head with his hands.
Raina curled her fingers around Alistair’s arm, mouthing a warning. Careful. That might not be PTSD.
Alistair nodded in agreement. Whatever was happening here, there had obviously been a fight, because Joe was sitting in one of the easy chairs, a dark bruise forming on his cheek. He was clutching his shoulder, beads of perspiration on his brow as he tried to calm the pacing man. Next to him, Emma was supporting his arm across his body in the best position for a dislocated shoulder.
‘Why don’t you sit down, Stuart?’ Joe’s voice was strained but calm, as he tried to diffuse the situation.
‘Can’t.’ Stuart struck his forehead with his hand, and turned suddenly, closing on Joe with his fists clenched. Emma flung herself between them and Joe tried to push her to one side, wincing in pain as he did so.
But Alistair was there. In between the two men, firmly but gently crowding Stuart back, channelling his attention away from Joe. Putting himself in the firing line would allow Raina to get Joe and Emma out of the room. Raina hurried towards them.
‘Emma? Are you okay?’ She whispered the words and Emma nodded. Raina had already seen the scars on her neck and that three fingers from one hand were missing, but Emma had clearly chosen to forget that she was a patient here, and her training as a paramedic was giving her the courage to face this situation.
‘What do you think?’ Raina had a good idea of what was wrong with Joe’s shoulder, but she wanted Emma to stay involved.
‘Looks like a dislocated shoulder,’ Emma replied, and Raina bent down, running her fingers over it.
‘I think you’re right.’ Raina turned to Joe. He was obviously in a lot of pain but he seemed to be holding himself together. ‘Do you think you can walk?’