The Surgeon's Gift

‘Go,’ Rachael said again, jerking her face away, terrified he might somehow sense the sudden shift in tempo, hear the contradiction of her spoken word, because surely her eyes must be saying otherwise?

Going was the last thing she wanted him to do.

CHAPTER FOUR

KELVIN was very young, very distressed and, Rachael guessed as the paramedics helped him onto the bed, very scared. The nature of his injury meant that speech was difficult but he still more than managed to put his point across with the help of a pad and pen the staff at Warragul had thoughtfully provided.

‘He wants a mirror,’ Bill, the paramedic, said as Kelvin scribbled furiously and handed the note to Rachael with a shaking hand.

‘Have you seen your injury yet, Kelvin?’

He nodded, writing rapidly as he did so.

‘‘‘Briefly, at the factory. It’s bad, isn’t it?’’’ Rachael reread the note out loud to be sure she’d got his question right. ‘Kelvin, it’s not for me to say. I haven’t even seen it and I don’t want to take the dressing down until Dr Connell gets here—he’s the one who’ll be able to asses the extent of your injury and what he can do for you. I’m going to do a set of obs on you and then I’ll page Dr Connell and let him know that you’re here.’ The paramedics hovered as Rachael checked Kelvin’s observations, following her outside once she had finished.