‘Mum? What are you doing here?’
Jago and Charlotte were already in action, and her eyes swivelled to the patient on the trolley who was being attached to a heart monitor.
‘Dad?’ Her voice was a croak and she felt a chill run through her body.
Jago’s eyes collided with hers briefly and then he turned his attention back to her father as he put a line in and started an infusion. ‘You don’t have to be here, Katy,’ he said roughly. ‘Take your mother to the relatives’ room.’
Her mother straightened her shoulders. ‘I’m not leaving him,’ she said stiffly, and Katy walked into the room, letting the door swing closed behind her.
She hurried up to the trolley, her brain working in slow motion. ‘What happened?’
Her father was pale and sweaty, gasping for breath as he lay on the trolley.
‘We were at home and he suddenly clutched his chest and complained of pains,’ her mother said shakily, her eyes on Jago. ‘I—I think another doctor should see him!’
‘Mum!’ Katy was aghast and she looked at Jago with mortification, but Jago didn’t react, all his attention concentrated on her father.
‘I’m fully aware that Mr Rodriguez hates your father,’ her mother said dully, ‘and I have to admit he has reason. Why would he want to help him?’
Intercepting Charlotte’s startled glance, Katy slipped an arm round her mother. ‘Jago’s a brilliant doctor, Mum,’ she said quietly. ‘The best. Who Dad is, or what he’s done, doesn’t matter at the moment.’
There wasn’t anyone else she’d want caring for a member of her family.
Feeling strangely disconnected, Katy watched as Jago examined her father, checking his peripheral pulses to exclude aortic dissection and checking his legs for any evidence of clots in the veins.
‘Katy, either help me out here or get me another doctor,’ Jago growled suddenly, and Katy leapt into action.
‘What do you want me to do?’ She wasn’t capable of thinking straight but she could follow orders.
‘Take blood for U and Es, glucose, CK, FBC, and we may as well check his cholesterol as well.’ He glanced up. ‘Charlotte, get him attached to a pulse oximeter. I want to monitor his oxygen saturation. And get a radiographer up here. I want a portable chest X-ray.’
‘I’ve done an ECG trace.’ Charlotte handed him the strip of paper and Jago ran it through his fingers, studying it carefully.
‘He’s got ST elevation and inverted T waves,’ he said finally, interpreting what looked like a wavy line to the uninitiated.
But Katy knew that what he was describing were changes to the pattern of electrical activity in the heart.
‘He’s had an MI?’
Her mother glanced between them in confusion. ‘What’s an MI?’
‘Myocardial infarction. It means that Dad’s had a heart attack,’ Katy explained gently, and Jago looked at her.
‘What are his risk factors? Does he smoke? What’s his blood pressure like normally?’
Katy opened her mouth but it was her mother who answered, her voice amazingly calm.
‘He hasn’t smoked for thirty years but his blood pressure has been worryingly high for months now and his GP has been warning him to slow down and take some exercise.’
Katy stared at her mother. It was the first she’d heard of it. ‘Mum?’
‘You know your father—he never likes to show weakness,’ her mother explained wearily. ‘He’s also had a very high cholesterol and I’ve had him on a strict diet. Unfortunately, I don’t think he sticks to it when I’m not watching him.’
For the first time Katy realised just how much her mother must love her father. Maybe their marriage wasn’t just a business arrangement after all.
She stood still, barely aware of the arrival of the radiographer who bustled around the room preparing to take the X-ray Jago had requested.
‘Charlotte, call the coronary care team,’ Jago ordered once the X-ray had been taken, adjusting the flow of oxygen through her father’s mask. ‘I’ve given him morphine for the pain and aspirin, and we’ve started thrombolytic therapy. He needs to be transferred to the unit.’