Page 10 of Prognosis So Done

CHAPTER FOUR - 1000 HOURS

‘One more sleep, Harry,’ Katya said catching up with Harriet on their way to the morning triage meeting.

Harriet smiled at her enthusiasm. Katya was the youngest of the three nurses that formed their surgical team and had been with MedSurg for four years. The younger woman’s grasp of the English language was superb and her accent was very easy on the ear.

Entertaining, also, when Katya - the most volatile of the group - lost her cool, which happened a lot in the presence of such senseless carnage. She would slip back into her native Russian every third or fourth word and especially when she couldn’t think of an insulting enough English word.

Katya vehemently maintained that Russian swear words were the most poetic of all languages and, listening to her in full flight, Harriet had to admit she was right. She sounded like she was reciting Tolstoy, instead of a string of invectives that couldn’t be remotely classed as high literature.

‘You do know how happy we all are that you and Gill are back together.’

Harriet’s step faltered briefly. A denial rose to her lips but looking at the joy on her friend’s face she didn’t have the heart to speak the truth. What was the point? Their mission was over tomorrow. Why not part with everyone thinking she and Gill were going to live happily ever after? This fine group of people wanted so badly for them to be happy, for it to be like it had been, and they would all know the truth soon enough.

Harriet smiled and nodded. ‘Yes, I do.’

Katya grinned back at her and not for the first time Harriet thought what a good match Gill and Katya would make. In fact, she’d wondered when she left a year ago if they might hook up in her absence. Her and Gill had been separated and the blonde, petite Russian nurse was very pretty.

But there hadn’t been even be a whiff of anything between them. No awkwardness. No hushed, secretive conversations. No vibe that they knew each other intimately. Just the same friendly banter that had always existed between them. That the whole team thrived on. That gelled them all together.

She’d hoped Gill had found the idea of casual sex during their separation as abhorrent as she had. That their separation had devastated him as much as her. That sex with someone else just didn’t rate. But he was a virile man with appetites and she didn’t fool herself for a moment that men and women thought the same way about matters relating to sex.

And a year was a long time. A year of living apart, working apart. Harriet had stayed with MedSurg but had joined another surgical team that had gone to different hot-spots and had worked the opposite rotation to Gill’s. So when Gill’s team had been flying home for a month’s R and R, Harriet’s team had been flying elsewhere to start their two-month stint.

Communication between them had been complicated by their work assignments. The places they went to and the conditions of the local infrastructure often meant phone or mobile contact was not possible. MedSurg comms centre had enough on their plates, dealing with casualties and air evacuations and managing their ground-level programmes, without being a message centre for idle chit-chat. Only emergency calls for staff were allowed.

Email had been their most efficient communication tool. Separation via electronic mail. Harriet had hated it. She wondered now as they gathered for the triage meeting if they would divorce via the internet as well. Would they split up their assets, argue about which books, which kitchen appliances belonged to whom via their inboxes?

She imagined her email to him when the decree nisi arrived.

Dear Gill. It’s official. We are no longer joined in marriage. You should be receiving the paperwork soon. Have a good life.

Harriet shuddered. She felt so empty thinking about it, but the alternative Gill had suggested this morning made her emptier. A part-time father who’d rather fly around the world, fixing other people’s problems, than be with her and their baby?

To have to watch his detachment when he came home and live with him knowing he had one eye on the calendar.

She knew as surely as she knew that she loved him that she’d be more miserable with half of Gill than none of him.

‘Oh, great,’ muttered Katya beside her as she slipped into the seat next to Harriet. ‘Just what I needed on my last day. Casanova.’

Harriet smiled to herself. Sitting opposite them was another reason why Gill and Katya would probably never hook up. Count Benedetto Medici the third. Italian aristocracy, wealthy playboy and MedSurg’s newest surgeon. It was standard operating procedure for the organization to send two full teams to any

mission, and unfortunately, on-ground casualty numbers more than justified it.

The smooth charm of the affluent newbie had well and truly rubbed Katya up the wrong way, her poor-as-dirt background giving her a healthy dislike of men born with silver spoons in their mouths.

It was obvious to all but Katya they were hot for each other.

‘Morning, Katya,’ he said across the table, sending her a smouldering smile.

‘Ben,’ she said shortly, in withering dismissal.

Harriet glanced at Gill, who winked at her, and for a second she forgot that they’d be nearly divorced by the time Gill returned to the team for their next mission. The memory of their joining this morning was still fresh in her mind and for a few seconds she remembered how much she loved him and how their romance, too, had blossomed in the diverse melting pot of a MedSurg mission.

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Gill was also remembering. He’d been entering his fourth year with the organisation and had been a little apprehensive about the new RN taking over from Liesel, who was going back to Sweden to get married. It was always a little stressful when someone new joined an already established team.

Would they fit in? Would they complement the existing members, would the transition be seamless or would their presence cause ripples and potentially be disruptive? Would the unity of the team be irreparably damaged?

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