The Surgeon's Blade Page 3

  “Can you hear me?” he asked, bending down towards her ear. She nodded and wished she hadn’t, as everything went black, and a whooshing noise replaced the drone. “You’ve had an accident. Do you remember?”

  She struggled to frame the word 'no'.

  “Don’t try to move or talk until I’ve done some obs. You’ve got a nasty wound on your forehead, which I’m going to dress. This might hurt a bit. It’s only a medicated swab, nothing more.”

  Libby winced as she felt a cold, wet compress upon her face. The astringent antiseptic bit into her raw lesion. “Ow!” she moaned, opening her eyes wide with surprise.

  “There. Nearly all done. What’s your name? Can you tell me?”

  Libby thought. Nothing. The more she thought, the more she panicked. What was her name? She gave a slight shake of her head and realised tears were welling up. What had happened? Why was she so wet?

  “I can’t remember,” she whispered. “What happened? Why am I so wet and—” She struggled to sit up. “Where am I?”

  The uniformed man placed a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back down. “I’m Jack, by the way. You’ve been in a sailing accident. Do you remember that?”

  “No!” Waves of nausea rushed over her. She lay back, beginning to shake with shock.

  “Okay, just take it easy. I’ll explain. You were taking part in a sailing race. I believe there was a collision between the yacht you were on and another. During the collision you went overboard. That’s why you are so wet. You’re now on the Solent Rescue helicopter, India Juliet, and we’re flying you to Southampton hospital.”

  For some reason, the hospital meant something to Libby, but she couldn’t remember what. She struggled with the grey woolliness in her brain. “Why can’t I remember?”

  “By the look of your injury, I would say you hit your head before you went overboard. It’s probably only temporary, and things will begin to come back after you’ve rested. You’ve got quite a bump there. I can tell you that your name is Libby. Your boat skipper gave that to us.”

  Libby? Libby? Still nothing. She lay still as misery flooded through her. What on earth was going to happen to her?

  “We’ll be there in a short while. Now, if I can just take your blood pressure.”

  Libby felt a cuff tighten around her arm. She strained to look around her without moving her position, and as her vision cleared, realised she could see the pilot. She could hear him as he talked into his helmet mike. At that moment, he glanced in the rear mirror in front of him and met her eyes. Despite herself, Libby felt a frisson of interest. She saw nice eyes, a deep green and unusual shade of hazel, green and blue with brown flecks. As she watched him, he swivelled round in his seat with a shaken look. After a moment, his face cleared and he gave her a smile. There was something about that smile that made her feel secure. Perhaps she was worrying unnecessarily, and everything was going to be all right.

  The pilot turned back to his controls, and Jack said they were about to land. The new helipad at the hospital was in sight.

  ~~~~~

  Libby was dozing when she realised there was someone in the room with her. As she opened her eyes, she noticed the soft evening sunshine throwing shadows on the walls, and with a start, she turned to find the chair next to her bed occupied. He was dark-haired with conventional good looks, a tanned face, blue eyes, and a long aquiline nose. He was dressed in sailing clothes: a polo shirt, trousers and deck-shoes.

  “Libby, darling. I’m sorry if I woke you, but the staff said you were awake. I’ve only just managed to get here to see you. The traffic from the Hamble was horrendous.”

  Libby stared blankly at the face before her. She had no idea who he was.

  “I’m sorry,” she began. “But…who are you?” Her voice wavered.

  “Darling, don’t you remember? It’s me, Nigel.”

  She hesitated, then, “No. I don’t know you. I can’t even remember who I am.” To her horror, tears were gathering and threatening to roll down her face. “How did you manage to get in? I told the staff I didn’t want visitors!”

  “Darling, hush. It’s all right. Why wouldn’t they let me in, they could hardly refuse could they? I am one of the senior medical staff here. Of course, they don’t know about our personal relationship.”

  “Relationship?” Libby frowned.

  “Yes. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten we’re engaged?”

  Engaged? Horrified, Libby struggled to clear her head. Apparently she was engaged to this man, this stranger, Nigel. She lifted her left hand but her ring finger was bare.

  Nigel saw her puzzled look and curled his fingers round her own. “Your ring is at the jewellers, darling. Don’t you remember? Since you lost all that weight, your fingers are much more slender. Your ring kept slipping off, and you were afraid of losing it. It’ll be ready for you in a day or so.” He kissed the tips of her fingers. “Don’t worry about anything. You just need to get better.”

  She choked back a sob. “How can I not worry? I can’t remember anything much before I woke up in the helicopter,” she said snatching her hand from his – it didn’t feel right somehow.

  “I’m sure your doctor has explained your amnesia to you. You fell overboard and most probably hit your head on the boat’s hull. I’m sure your memory will recover in a short time.”

  “You think so?”

  “Of course I do. You have what is known as post-traumatic amnesia. This is a state of confusion that occurs immediately following a violent head injury. You’ll probably feel disoriented and unable to remember events that happened before the injury. Sometimes new events can’t be remembered either, but it’ll resolve itself.”

  Libby wished she felt reassured, but Nigel’s words failed to comfort her.

  “I think I can remember a few random things. I don’t remember being on a boat. But I do remember driving my car. A Mini, I think it was. Why can I only remember bits and pieces?” she whispered.

  “Well, I’m not a neurosurgeon, but I had a word with the doctor on duty before I called in here. He said that about a third of patients with mild head injuries have 'islands of memory' in which the patient can recall only some events. Your consciousness is 'clouded' and you’re suffering from retrograde amnesia.”

  “Yes, he explained that to me too. It’s awful only remembering snippets.”

  “Can you remember where you live?”

  She wrinkled her nose as she concentrated hard. “Do I have a flat? I think I’m getting glimpses of something like that.”

  “Yes, you do. But listen, darling, you were about to leave your flat and move in with me. We had it all sorted out. We decided to live together, don’t you remember?”

  Libby was shocked and shrank back upon her pillows. “No. I…I don’t.”

  “Well, I can’t see that anything’s changed. It will be for the best. I can keep a proper eye on you. Darling Libby, you need someone to cherish you.”

  As Nigel said these words, Libby felt as if she was drowning. Panic gripped her, and an icy feeling ran down her back. It just didn’t feel right.

  Chapter 4

  Libby was woken the next morning by the duty nurse bringing her an early morning cup of tea. The staff nurse bustled around the room, twitching back the curtains and folding a loose over-blanket that had slipped from Libby’s bed during her restless night.

  “Good morning, and did we sleep well?” she asked with a cheery smile upon her face. She looked older than Libby, short in stature and sported a tanned, plump body.

  “Not really,” Libby replied. “My headache kept coming and going, despite the painkillers you gave me.”

  The nurse stopped what she was doing and gave Libby with a sympathetic look.

  “Why didn’t you ring for some more? You know the drill, being a ward sister yourself. Nobody has to suffer in pain.”

  Libby looked away from her. Never had she felt so depressed in all her life. To her humiliation, tears began to form. She brushed her e
yes with the back of her hand.

  “Hey! Don’t cry. The doctors think you’ll get your memory back. Sometimes it just takes a day or so.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m so confused. I don’t know who I am or what’s going to happen to me. I know I’m Libby and that I work on the general surgical ward, but apart from that, I’ve only got some snatched glimpses of my past life. You can’t know how horrible or frightening it is.”

  The nurse patted her arm. “Look, just try and relax. I know you think that’s impossible, but rest is a good cure. At least you can remember things from yesterday. Imagine if you couldn’t retain new knowledge. We’ve had quite a few amnesiacs in here, and as far as I can remember, all of them got back to nearly normal in time. Some people of course take a few days more than others.”

  Libby sighed. “What’s going to happen to me? When can I go home?”

  “I’m not sure. I should imagine you’ll be with us for a few days longer, so that we can keep an eye on you. You know head injuries – sometimes strange things happen. But don’t worry. We won’t discharge you until we’re happy with your progress. Now, I’ll go and fetch you some more pills to get rid of that headache, and then if you feel up to it, you can take a shower. A freshen-up will make you feel like a new woman.”

  ~~~~~

  Libby couldn’t remember the last time she was a patient in hospital, if she ever had been. She wasn’t sure, but she had a strange feeling that she had spent some time in a hospital somewhere. Nigel had filled her in about her position as junior ward sister, but his words did nothing to help dispel her anxieties. She couldn’t even remember working in a hospital, and when Personnel called in to assure Libby her job would be held open while she recovered, she didn’t know whether to be thankful or to cry.

  Her last visitor had brought her some joy. Libby thought she recognised the long, lean face of the male charge nurse when he popped his head round the door to her room.

  Libby had a puzzled look on her face as she summoned up recognition of her visitor. “I believe I know you – if I could only focus clearer. You’re, er…Tim? No, Jim…er, no sorry, I can’t quite remember.” She looked mortified.

  “Don’t fret, it’ll come. You’re nearly there. I’m Jem. I came to see you yesterday evening, but you were asleep. Do you remember picking me up from home yesterday morning? It was very early – before we went sailing.”

  Libby thought, her brow puckered with concentration. “I remember rain. Yes it was raining, really hard. You got in the car and we drove – where did we drive to?”

  “We drove to the Hamble River. We were going on board Tourbillon, Nigel’s yacht.” Jem moved the chair away from the wall and made himself comfortable on it.

  Libby shook her head. “Nigel has been to see me, but I remember nothing about being on board a boat, I’m afraid.”

  Jem gave her a reassuring smile. “Well, I’m sure it’ll start coming back once you’ve had time to get over the shock. What you need is rest. Now, can I bring you anything you might need from home? Do you have your house keys on you?”

  “I did have them, but Nigel took them. He insisted on going over to my place and picking up some clothes for me.”

  Jem looked grim at her words, and fleetingly, Libby wondered why. “Did he now? Well, if you want me to get anything, just let me know. I hope he remembers to feed Rommie.”

  Libby suddenly gave a wide smile. “I have a cat! And you work in Accident and Emergency. I remember that! Thank goodness! I thought I was never going to get there.”

  “Bravo! See, as long as you relax, it’ll all start coming back. I’ll get something sorted so that the cat’s fed every day. I was thinking before I came. What if I bring your address book in for you? Seeing a list of names and addresses might jolt your memory some more. I can easily pop over when I sort the cat, and it’s not far for me.”

  “That’s a good idea. But Nigel might well have thought of it already. Let me see what he brings over when he visits me again. I can always let you know.”

  Jem stayed for the remainder of his break and then said he had better get back to work. Libby was relieved, as the longer he stayed chatting with her, the more she remembered. Jem was the catalyst she needed. During his short visit, he reminded her about his own partner, Simon, and various people Libby was friendly with who were mutual friends. After another five minutes or so, Jem stood up and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “I promise to call in tomorrow, but if you need anything urgently or are bothered about something, please give me a ring. The staff here are great, and they’ll soon let me know if you have a problem. I’ll let Lisa know you’ve regained some of your memory. She was really worried, and I’m sure she’ll soon be down to see you.”

  Jem’s visit had brought some calm and cheer to Libby. She clearly remembered her colleague, Lisa, the senior sister from her own ward and looked forward to seeing her. Libby was also relieved to discover she had a good friend in Jem and, more importantly, one she recognised.

  ~~~~~

  Sitting up in bed, Libby flicked through a magazine that Nigel had thoughtfully brought her earlier. Nothing in the glossy pages enthralled her particularly, and she decided she had made one more discovery. She rarely read magazines and probably enjoyed reading books a whole lot more. Thankfully, her ghastly headache had nearly disappeared, and she felt a bit happier since her shower.

  A knock on her door startled her out of her daydreaming. “Come in”, she called and sat still as she recognised her visitor standing next to the nurse. She recalled when she had last seen those unusual eyes: deep green and blue and hazel.

  “You’ve got a visitor, Libby. I’ve told him he’s not to stay too long because you’re still in a bit of shock. It must be nice to have such a handsome man rescue you,” said the nurse, giving the visitor a cheeky smile as she left the room. “I’ll leave the door open for some air. It’s a bit stuffy in here.”

  At a loss for words, Libby waited for him to say something.

  “Hello there. You probably don’t remember me.”

  “I do as a matter of fact. You’re the helicopter pilot. You brought me here.”

  “I know this is a bit irregular, but I wanted to see how you were. I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night. I couldn’t come then, but I came as soon as I could. I spoke to the staff, explained who I was, and they were happy for me to visit. These are for you. I didn’t know what flowers you like, so I bought a mixed bunch.” He looked self-conscious as he produced a huge bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

  “Thank you. It really wasn’t necessary, but I love flowers and these are gorgeous. I’ll have to hide them though because flowers aren’t allowed on some hospital wards these days. Won’t you sit down?” She indicated the easy chair against the wall.

  “I understand from the staff that the blow to your head is giving you some problems?” he asked as he moved over to the chair.

  Libby raised a hand to her head, feeling the dressing over her wound. It throbbed, and she couldn’t help wincing.

  “Sorry. I haven’t introduced myself, have I? I’m Rob. Robert Cheesman, helicopter pilot extraordinaire at your service.” He gave a slight bow and a broad grin. Despite her position and her predicament, Libby couldn’t help smiling back at him. He really did have a nice face, and when he smiled, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkled into laughter lines.

  “You know my name, of course,” she said, burying her face in the flowers. “These smell heavenly.”

  “Sister Libby Hunter, and I’m pleased you like them. But actually, I have a confession to make.”

  Tongue-tied, she gazed at him. It was unlike her not to know what to say.

  “We have met before. It was at a charity party in the city library a month or so ago.”

  “Really?” Libby frowned while she tried to remember. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember it at all.”

  “Don’t be sorry. It was a brief meeting anyway. I w
as introduced to you, and I was whisked away on an emergency before we could get talking properly. I was off-duty, but this was a high-priority call, and they needed everyone they could muster. I couldn’t believe it was you when we picked you up off the boat, what with wet hair and everything. When I saw you last, you had longer hair and were all dressed up.” Before she could answer or ask him a question, he continued. “So, how long do they think you’ll have to stay in here?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve seen an occupational therapist, and she’ll come to see me every day. I’ve remembered quite a lot now. Every hour things come back to me which is gratifying. You can’t imagine how scared I felt when I woke up in your helicopter.”