He inhaled sharply and took a step backwards, his gaze shuttered. ‘I have to go into work now.’
Avoiding the issue again.
She blinked and brushed her hair away from her face. ‘It’s Christmas morning, Mac, and you’re supposed to be off until tomorrow. People are coming here to spend the day with us. I’m cooking turkey and there are presents round the tree.’
And mistletoe above the doorways.
She was doing a proper Christmas.
He looked as though she’d suggested he run naked down the coast road. ‘They’re really busy. Short of staff. I need to go in.’
He wanted to go in.
She felt the hope drain out of her.
Clearly he was willing to do anything to avoid Christmas. To avoid being with her. ‘You’re going to the hospital?’
She couldn’t quite believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.
‘It’s my job, Louisa.’ He turned and strode away, leaving her staring after him with tears in her eyes and the smell of turkey wafting up the stairs.
‘It’s your job, Mac,’ she said softly, ‘but not your life.’
* * *
Mac watched while Josh intubated the patient and secured the airway, his movements smooth and proficient. He felt a burn of pride that went right to the bone. His kid brother was a hell of a doctor.
When exactly had he moved from eager junior doctor to cool-headed, experienced consultant? He was a team member to be proud of. A brother to be proud of.
Suddenly Mac found that he had a lump in his throat. What was happening to him? He struggled to concentrate. ‘I want all his clothes removed so that we can do a proper assessment...’ He went through the moves like clockwork, part of him detached from what was happening around him. ‘X-rays.’ He glanced at Sue, his face blank of expression. ‘Let’s start with lateral cervical spine, chest and pelvis.’
It was Christmas Day.
All around the country families were getting together, ripping open presents, sharing joy, arguing and eating too much. Some people were on their own and longing to find someone to share the day with.
For him it was just another day in A and E.
Another road traffic accident victim to be patched up.
He stared down at the patient on the trolley and suddenly all he could see was Louisa’s wide smile and all he could think about was her unshakable optimism and her generosity towards everyone and everything.
Then he glanced up and took in the cold sterility of the resuscitation room where he seemed to spend most of his days. Harsh lights shone down on the patient, illuminating the cruelty of fate, the fragility of life. Chrome glinted and the paint on the functional white walls was starting to chip in places where it had been bashed by trolleys with sharp edges. The place was stark, sterile and cold. The last place that anyone should be spending Christmas if there was an alternative.
And he had an alternative.
* * *
What the hell was he doing here when he could be at home surrounded by Louisa’s warmth?
He shook himself and tried to concentrate again. Still functioning on automatic, he checked the femoral pulses. ‘Let’s do a serum amylase...’
What was it that brought him here day after day? Night after long night?
He pushed the thought away impatiently as he examined the patient’s peritoneum. What the hell was the matter with him? He loved his work and apart from the beach there was no place he’d rather be. That was why he was standing here on Christmas Day instead of lounging at home eating too much of Louisa’s undoubtedly delicious turkey.
‘There’s bruising over the abdomen, Mac.’
He suddenly realised that they were looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to make decisions, give orders.