‘Her sats are up to 94 per cent. Her breathing seems a little easier.’
‘That’s good. Let’s see if this helps.’ He gave the hydrocortisone and at that moment the door opened and Lucy’s mother hurried in, white-faced and out of breath.
‘Glenda’s taken the baby for me. Is Lucy OK? What’s wrong with her? She was fine one minute and then she just collapsed.’ The questions tumbled out of her and, satisfied that Sam had Lucy under control, Anna hurried over to the distraught Michelle.
‘She seems to have had an allergic reaction to something, but the drugs are helping. We need to know what caused it, Michelle. What were you doing when it happened?’
Michelle Craddock looked at her helplessly, her face shiny from the heat, her hair damp from running. ‘Eating a picnic. Nothing exciting or dangerous. I just don’t understand what could possibly have happened.’
‘Could she have picked something up from the beach?’ Sam dropped the empty syringe onto the trolley and glanced at Anna with a question in his eyes. ‘Drugs?’
Her gaze held his. They both knew that during the summer months teenagers congregated on the beach in the evenings. The local police did their best to keep things under control but the odd broken bottle and syringe had been cleaned up the following morning by vigilant locals. Had the little girl picked something up from the sand?
Michelle was shaking her head. ‘She didn’t wander from the picnic rug. I would have noticed if she’d picked something up.’
‘Her vital signs are improving and her sats are good,’ Sam murmured, keeping a close eye on the child.
Anna was still questioning the mother. ‘What was the very last thing she was doing before she collapsed, Michelle? Try and think. It could be very important.’
‘Eating the picnic.’ Michelle glanced at her husband for help. ‘She was eating a ham sandwich, I think. No, it was crisps. Because I was nagging her about not touching the healthy stuff.’
John frowned. ‘Actually, that’s wrong, too.’ His brow cleared. ‘She was drinking, Miche. I remember now because her crisps fell onto the sand when she reached for her can.’
Sam glanced up. ‘Can?’
‘Fizzy drink.’
Sam’s eyes narrowed. ‘Had the can been open for a while?’
Michelle bit her lip. ‘Not really. A few minutes, I suppose. She’d certainly had a few sips from it. Why?’
Anna picked up the questioning, following Sam’s train of thought. ‘And did she drink straight from the can?’
Michelle nodded, her expression anxious. ‘Why? Why would that make her ill?’
‘Because wasps crawl into cans of fizzy drink,’ Sam said grimly, turning back to the child and checking her mouth and throat. ‘Our guess is that she may have swallowed a wasp.’
‘Oh, my God.’ John’s face was pale. ‘You think she’s been stung in her throat?’
‘Possibly.’
John closed his eyes briefly and then looked at his wife and shook his head. ‘We had no idea.’
‘Lucky you brought her here as quickly as you did,’ Sam said. ‘Her breathing is improving and her heart rate is good. We’ll get her transferred to the hospital and they’ll keep her in overnight just to be sure.’
‘Keep her in?’ Michelle stroked Lucy’s hair to keep her calm. ‘But if she’s better…?’
‘There’s a chance she might have a relapse,’ Anna explained, glancing towards the window. ‘I can hear the ambulance now. We’ll transfer her to hospital and they can take a good look at her throat.’
‘A wasp in the can. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,’ Michelle groaned, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘And I think I’m such a careful mother.’
‘Accidents still happen, Michelle, and you’re a great mother,’ Anna said quietly, walking towards the door as the paramedics hurried in, guided by Glenda. ‘Hi, Todd. We need to get this little one to hospital quickly.’
She explained what had happened, gave him a summary of the care they’d given and then looked at Sam. ‘One of us ought to go in the ambulance with her. You or me?’
‘I’ll go,’ Sam said immediately. ‘You might be needed here. I’ll grab a lift back from someone.’
Now that the immediate danger to the child had passed, Anna swept her dark hair away from her face and gave a reluctant grin. ‘Good work, McKenna. Maybe you’re not as rusty as I thought.’