Page 14 of Prognosis So Done

She glanced at him, a puzzled look in her eyes as to why he needed such a miniscule adjustment and their gazes locked for a second. Then she was stepping away and Gill pulled his head back in the game.

After another twenty minutes of looking, he finally located a small nick on the posterior wall of the ascending colon not far from the appendix.

‘Bingo,’ he murmured. ‘Suture.’

Gill over sewed the minor tear, and then gave the entire area a good lavage with warmed saline to wash out any debris that might have found its way into the abdominal cavity through the small hole. Fortunately the patient already had triple antibiotics on board to cover infection. Siobhan suctioned the saline out again as Gill reinserted a new drain through the old tract.

Once Harriet and Siobhan had finished their final count and were satisfied they had everything back that they’d started with, Gill went ahead and closed the abdomen. The phone rang just as he was finishing up.

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Harriet reached forthe phone. ‘Theatre. Harriet speaking.’

‘Good morning. This is Genevieve from MedSurg communications

centre. We have an urgent message for Dr Remy. Is he around?’

Harriet clutched the phone, a sixth sense making her

uneasy. What had happened? It had to be bad for comms to be passing on a message.

‘He’s closing an abdomen at the moment. I’m his wife. You can leave it with me.’

She could feel herself blush and Harriet was grateful for the mask as Gill looked up abruptly from his work. She knew it was a bit rich, making a claim on a marriage that she had in effect just ended and the slight mocking expression in his eyes told her the irony wasn’t lost on him, either.

‘Who is it?’ he asked.

‘Comms. Urgent message for you.’

‘Tell them to give it to my wife.’

Harriet didn’t miss the derision in his emphasis, although she was sure the others hadn’t noticed. ‘Did you hear that?’ Harriet asked Genevieve.

‘Yes. OK. We have a phone call from his father. Henri Remy has had a massive heart attack and is in a critical condition in Coronary Care.’

Harriet closed her eyes briefly and swallowed hard. No. Not

Henri. Gill was exceptionally close to his grandfather. Hell, so was she. It was hard to believe that a man who had a heart the size of Henri’s would ever succumb to human frailties.

This news would hit him hard.

‘What?’ Gill asked, his brow furrowed as Harriet slowly replaced the receiver.

She looked at him hoping the anguish she felt in her heart wasn’t reflected in her eyes. ‘It’s Henri,’ she said, pronouncing it with the correct French inflection as Gill did. On-ree.

‘Is he dead?’ he asked bluntly.

Harriet flinched at Gill’s directness but noticed his vice-like grip on the instrument in his hand and wanted to go to him. Scrubbed or not. Sterile or not. ‘No.’ She shook her head and tried to expel the tremor from her voice. ‘MI. He’s critical.’

She saw the disbelief and shock and they shared a brief moment of solidarity. He blinked rapidly a few times, said, ‘Okay,’ then turned back to his patient and closed the wound.

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