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“That’s the last of the morbidity statistics done. How are you getting on?” Serena tossed a thin folder on top of the pile sitting in her out-tray.
Bernie mumbled something, her response lost in the sheaf of paper she was currently sorting into separate piles.
“Sorry?” Serena said, leaning forward.
The head lifted revealing an extremely bored face. “I said,” she huffed, dropping the pen she was holding and slumping against the back of her chair, “can we just shred all of this and pretend we never got them?”
Serena regarded her with a stern look. “I’m not a fan of pushing paper myself but needs must, darling.” Her tone softened as a resigned look appeared on her wife’s face. “I’m pretty sure we couldn’t get away with just burning them anyway so why don’t you pass some of that over and we’ll be done sooner.”
Bernie thumbed through the stacks of paper in front of her, shuffling through the pile in front of her . She shook her head, straightening the sheets up before retrieving her pen. “I’m nearly done. Should have this sorted in fifteen minutes.”
“Well, then, let’s keep our fingers crossed that nothing turns up for the next half an hour and we might get away on time for once.”
The words had barely left her lips when the sound of loud voices broke the relative silence of the ward beyond the office. Bernie and Serena exchanged puzzled looks. They could pick out Fletch’s voice speaking slowly and loudly asking someone to calm down.
“You’ve jinxed it, darling. Guess I’d better go see what the ruckus is all about.” Bernie sighed and started pushing her chair away from her desk and standing up.
“No,” Serena lifted a hand to stop her. “You finish up here. I’ll go.”
The voices grew louder as Serena approached the drawn curtain surrounding bay three. She could now make out two other voices - the high nasally pitch of a woman’s tone and a man blustering loudly.
“I said I wanted to be taken to St James’. Which part of that don’t you understand?”
“Maybe you just need to speak a little slower, honey,” the female voice added, in the poorest imitation of a Southern drawl Serena had ever heard, “because he don’t seem to be the sharpest spur in the West. Isn’t there somewhere fancier we can go?”
She could hear Fletch sighing in frustration. “Look, mate, if it were up to me, you’d be on your way but we need to get this injury assessed as soon as possible so you’re not going anywhere until one of the consultants takes a look at this.”
“Well, then get this consultant of yours here immediately. And It’s Dr, not mate,” the man snapped back a reply.
Serena froze just as she was about to pull the curtain open. There was something about the tone of that voice but no, her stomach sank as the wheels turned a little quicker in her head. Surely it couldn’t be…
There was only one way to find out. She took a deep breath and pulled the curtain open, immediately greeted by her worst fears. They hadn’t met for quite a while but she was well familiar with the figure currently occupying the bed in front of her. In spite of her surprise at the situation, she couldn’t help but notice that his tuber-shaped face was now framed with a thinning crop of greying hair forming an approximation of a widow’s peak on his increasingly balding head.
Their eyes met and he blinked in surprise. “Serena?”
As much as she was tempted to roll her eyes, Serena just about managed not to.
“Hello, Edward.” Her tone was courteous and professional.
His response was much less restrained. “What are you doing here?”
Serena was just about to answer when Fletch beat her to it. “Ms Campbell is your consultant.” He frowned confused between the look of panic on Edward’s face and the sight of Serena muttering under her breath. He turned towards Serena. “Do you know him?’
Serena pinched her bridge of nose and nodded, heaving a sigh before answering, her gaze fixed on their patient.
“Fletch, meet Dr Edward Campbell.” Serena paused before turning back to face him. “Elinor’s father.”
Fletch stared for a moment, his eyebrows disappearing at a rapid pace into his hairline. All that blustering up till now was starting to make sense. As hard as tried, it was impossible to hide the smirk which was stretching across his face.
Edward’s face was a strange combination of blotchy flushed patches overlying skin the colour of curdled milk. “I want a different consultant,” he spluttered loudly.
Serena ignored him and held her hand out for his folder. “So, what have we got here?”
“Hey, he said he wanted a different consultant,” a voice piped up from the opposite corner of the bay, attracting Serena’s attention as its owner finally tore her eyes away from the screen of the phone in her hand.
Serena regarded her with interest. The theme was obviously western or a variation of - cowboy boots, bandana and a leather fringed top but the reed-thin redhead had then chosen to pair it with fishnet stockings and a scrap of material passing off for a skirt. She was certain that there was more fabric involved the last time she bandaged an injured hand.
“And you are?” Serena asked with equal measure of curiosity and dread at what the answer would be.
“She’s a friend,” Edward interjected quickly. “We met at a party.”
“Yeah, Eddie and me, we hit off right away. We had a blast, didn’t we hun?” A hand snaked across his upper arm, talon like fire-engine red nails scraping against leaf embroidery running along the shoulder of his shirt. Which, now that Serena noticed, was in a similar theme with his companion’s outfit.
Serena toyed with the idea of asking the obvious question but a loud tri-tone alert rang out and distracted Edward’s companion. She lifted her phone to check and a quick thumb pressed at the appropriate spot later, the screen lit up. It was obviously interesting as she wandered off, staring at it mesmerised. It was patently obvious to Serena that any further attempt at conversation would be pointless, if it wasn’t already challenging in the first place.
As curious as she may be, Serena was immediately reminded by the sound of her charge nurse clearing his throat, that they still had a job to do. Her focus immediately shifted back to folder in her hand. Based on what she could glean from her initial survey, he seemed intact from the waist up. It must be a lower body injury. Fletch watched as Serena turned the cover of the folder open, an ever-growing grin forming on his face.
He opened his mouth to start the usual summary of the case when Edward interrupted in a last ditch attempt. “I’d really rather have someone else-”
Serena levelled him a look that even after all this time managed to make him freeze mid-sentence. “I’m sure we’d all rather be somewhere else. And since we can’t,” she stared hard, daring him to interrupt, “why don’t you give me an update on our patient, Nurse Fletcher.”
“The patient was brought in after a 999 call from his mobile. Initial assessment at the scene noted localised bruising and extensive haematoma. He was given pain relief in transit and appropriately immobilised to prevent further trauma to the site. It-”
A less than patient look stopped his spiel as Serena gave him a pained look. “Can I have the one page summary? You can give me the unabridged version later once we know what we’re dealing with. Now, what is the injury?”
“It’s a fracture, Ms Campbell.” He was barely able to keep a straight face by this point.
Serena gave him a confused look. She ran her eyes over her reluctant patient once again. “I don’t see anything obvious so where is this fracture?”
Fletch let a grin split his face, deciding it was better than outright laughter, which was very likely regardless, considering what he was about to say.
“The corpus cavernosum.”
The was a long pause and Fletch would put money, if only for a split second, that Serena was going to give in and burst out laughing. To his dismay and her credit, she didn’t but he noticed the corners of her mouth twitching upwards when she asked the next question.
“How did this happen?” The query was directed as much to Fletch as it was to Edward.
“Paramedics said that that he was in too much pain to give an account but from what they could gather, accident occurred during…” he paused before made a poking gesture with a finger into a circle formed by the thumb and index finger of his other hand, blowing a two-toned whistle for effect.
Serena turned towards Edward, expecting an elaboration or a confirmation at the very least.
The colour was slowly returning to Edward’s face now that the truth was out in the open and he finally mumbled. “I don’t remember much.”
“I’m sure you don’t ,” she replied dryly. “And as much as it pains me to ask, I have to insist you try.”
Edward’s already ruddy cheeks flushed a shade pinker as he considered for a moment before muttering. “I want another consultant.”
Fletch just about managed to stop rolling his eyes. “I’m sure you know how it works Dr Campbell. You don’t get to choose who treats you just because-” Fletch was cut off by a wave of Serena’s hand before he could finish.
“The patient has the right to choose tho treats him. And you’re in luck; we do have another consultant available.” There was a glint in Serena’s eyes which Edward missed but Fletch didn’t.
Edward’s eyes perked up at the chance of avoiding an embarrassing conversation with his ex-wife.
Fletch played along, realising where Serena was going with this. “Yes, and I believe she’s even a dab hand at this particular surgical repair. Trauma whizz.”
His eyes widened and he nodded eagerly. “That’s fine. I want her instead.”
“All right then. Fletch, will you get…” She trailed off and he nodded instantly, heading towards the office. His back was shaking with laughter as soon as he was out of earshot. It didn’t take long for him to reappear with a familiar lanky figure clad in trauma blue in tow. Serena could tell straight away from the look on Bernie’s face that Fletch has brought her up to speed.
“I understand you asked for a different consultant.”
Edward who, in the interim seemed fascinated with the weave of the thin blanket covering his lower body, looked up at the sound of Bernie’s voice. He stared at her for a long moment, as if he was trying to place when they had previously met and groaned in despair when it finally clicked. “No, this can’t be happening.”
He rubbed his eyes and blinked, hoping that the alcohol and pain relief in his system had somehow addled his imagination. It was obviously in vain judging from the knowing smiles the women standing before him were exchanging. Bernie looked a little different, her hair scrunched up in a bun and wearing scrubs rather than the elegant pantsuit she’d worn to Elinor’s last opening night but there was no doubt who she was.
“Bernie…” He attempted a weak smile.
Her reply was terse. “Dr Campbell. I don’t normally take over in the middle of a consult but I heard you asked for me specifically.” She pulled a pair of gloves out of a box on a nearby cart and snapped them on. “Let’s have a look then.”
Edward clutched onto the blanket with whitened knuckles and a woeful expression. “Don’t you have another consultant?”
“You got who you asked for and we haven’t got all day. ” Fletch rolled his eyes. “You can have either Ms Campbell or Ms Wolfe.”
“There might be an alternative,” Serena interrupted, a thoughtful grin growing on her face. “Mr Griffin might be free.”
Edward looked like he’d just won the Lotto. He gave Bernie a pleading look. She replied with a sigh and a shrugged shoulder, pulling the gloves off. “You should know that the last time Ric had a patient with a penile fracture, he wanted to perform a degloving. But hey, it’s your choice. And no, there isn’t anyone else to pick from.”
Serena and Bernie exchanged a smirk at the sight of the open-mouthed despair on the Edward’s face.
“That’s settled then,” Bernie said. “Fletch, can you see if Mr Griffin is available to join us?”
“Do you need us to give an update to your friend?” Serena tilted her head towards his companion, the phone now up against the side of her face as listened with a bored expression to the person she was speaking to.
He shook his head, a flush colouring his face. “No, we just met and I don’t know her that well.”
“I could call Elinor. Or Liberty?” Serena offered.
His face transformed from pink to white. “We don’t need to bother either of them.”
Bernie was about to suggest retreating to the office for a cup of coffee when Edward’s wayward companion reappeared, a phone in each hand.
“Listen hun, one of my regulars just called and I need to skedaddle and why don’t we settle up for the night?”
Edward looked as if he was between hyperventilating and being sick as he rustled clumsily for in the pocket of his cowboy vest before finding what he was looking for. It took more fumbling but he finally pulled out a sheaf of twenty pound notes before pressing them quickly into the woman’s hand.
A wide smile stretched across her face as she counted the notes before rolling them up. “Thanks, hun. You can call me the next time you have a hankering to play ride ‘em cowboy,” she drawled, slipping the wad of notes into the cleavage of her fringed top.. “Once they fix Tiny Tim.”
Serena could no longer help herself and burst out laughing. She was immediately joined by Bernie’s signature honks.
The redhead looked curiously at the women who were now clutching each other and almost bent over with mirth.
“And oh, here’s your cell.” She tossed the flat rectangle onto his lap. “There was this chick who kept calling so I just answered the dang thing. Anyhoo, she just wanted to know where you are and told me to pass on a message. Liberty says to let you know she’s on her way.”