even on the darkest of days. But most of all he listened. Heâd welcomed her as a new instructor. Shown her all the ropes. Explained the systems, procedures and protocols that could be mind-boggling and sent her in the right direction when things had seemed like a puzzled map of tunnels.
He lived and breathed WSSA. Had done for years. His wife had died of cancer a few years ago and, although he spent his holidays with his grown-up daughter, he was first at work in the morning and last away at night.
There was no way she was going to have to make that Iâm so sorry call to his daughter, Lucy.
She was praying for a coronaryâeven a massive one with a clot could be dealt with by an angioplasty and stented if necessary. A pulmonary embolism wouldâat this stageâhave probably caused fatal damage. A stroke could be similar.
The muscles in her arms started to burn a little. It was nothing. She could handle it. A warm hand reached over hers as she counted out loud. âWant to swap?â
It was probably only a millisecond. But it seemed like so much more. It was the first time sheâd recognised sincerity in Austin Mitchellâs gaze. On every other occasion his confidence had almost seemed to mock her. But this time it was different. This time she saw a glimmer of the man he actually was instead of the person he showed the world.
His gaze seemed to drift downwards, then he gave his head a little shake and met her eyes again.
She glanced down. It was clear from his position that he had a prime-time view straight down the front of her shirt to her cleavage. At least heâd had the decency to avert his eyes. Austin Mitchell wasnât all face and bravado.
âIâm fine,â she said quickly. âJust keep going.â
And he did. They worked in unison for the next few minutes. She could hear the voices outside. The other candidates had realised that something was wrong but Blair stood across the doorway and none would dare argue with him. They didnât need to see Frank like this.
Every compression hurt her arms and made her shoulders ache. But she didnât care. She was trying not to let the statistics she knew about MI circulate around her brain. Defibrillation was the best bet. Every minute it was delayed reduced Frankâs chances.
There was a shout outside and Adam ran in with the paramedics behind him. He must have filled them in on who she was because they didnât bombard her with a series of questions. One immediately pulled out the pads for the defibrillator and the other opened the carton of drugs. She ripped open Frankâs shirt and let the paramedic place the pads, watching the monitor and praying for a shockable rhythm.
Someone was listening. VF. Ventricular fibrillation. The automated response from the machine filled the air. âStand clear, shocking.â
She reached for the IV kit, her eyes not leaving the monitor. Frankâs body jerked in response to the shock. The thin green line reappeared, squiggly with no discernible pattern.
âStand clear, shocking,â the machine said again. The room was silent. Frankâs body jerked once again and this time the line was different. It took a few seconds to appear, but this time it was a slow sinus rhythm.
Corrine didnât stop to think. She turned Frankâs arm over and quickly inserted a cannula for venous access. Theyâd need it if he arrested again.
Everything moved like clockwork. Austin sat back, allowing the other paramedic to check the airway and slip an oxygen mask in place as they positioned Frank onto the stretcher.
There was no end of volunteers to help take the stretcher out to the waiting ambulance and Corrine gave one of the paramedics a nod. âIâll be coming with you.â
He acknowledged her as they lifted Frank into the back of the ambulance. Marcia came over and grabbed her arm. âCall me as soon as you get there. Adamâs already contacting
Carolyn Faulkner, Alta Hensley