Page 1 of Anxious Hearts

She heard her first. It often went that way.

The kids would scream and cry so clearly, she could almost diagnose them by sound. This one was a long, plaintive moan with a protective edge.

Not lungs. The sound was uninhibited.

Not a head injury. They never made much noise.

Fracture?

Flesh wound was possible, but they usually went quiet after the initial shock.

No, this was a fracture. Or perhaps a dislocation. She was sure of it.

Kelly pulled back the curtain and smiled at the little girl sitting on her mother’s lap.

There were three men in the room – two paramedics and probably the father – but Kelly ignored all of them.

She focused her gaze on the small girl who looked at her with frightened, tear-filled eyes above her tiny disposable mask.

‘Hello, sweetheart,’ Kelly said. ‘What happened to you?’

The probable father took a step forwards. Mid-thirties, broad shouldered. After years of mandatory mask wearing, Kelly had become an expert at sizing people up by their eyes and body language. This guy had the air of an arsehole about him.

‘She was running through the house and slipped over. We didn’t see it, but we think she landed on her shoulder.’

Kelly clenched her teeth to bite back her irritation. If she’d wanted him to answer the question, she would have asked him. And he’d just admitted he didn’t see what happened, so he was as useless as his attempts to suck in his stomach when she first entered the cubicle.

She returned her gaze to the girl. ‘Did you fall on your shoulder?’

The girl shook her head. ‘It was my elbow,’ she whispered.

Kelly looked at the mother, whose rapid, shallow breathing was rocking the little girl back and forth like she was in a bassinet. Her eyes had the wildness of a hunted animal.

‘How old is she?’

‘Three,’ the mother said in a breathless groan.

‘What’s your name, darling?’ Kelly asked the girl.

‘Charlotte.’

Kelly smiled, knowing it would show in the crinkling of her eyes above her mask. She gently ran her fingers along Charlotte’s tiny arm, which the girl was holding protectively against her chest. ‘I used to have a friend called Charlotte when I was a little girl.’

‘Is she still your friend?’

Kelly pressed on the elbow joint and Charlotte stiffened, her eyes wide with pain and shock. But she didn’t cry.

‘You’re a brave girl,’ Kelly said.

One paramedic, a six-foot, dark-haired block of arrogance, spoke. ‘It’s not dislocated. We checked that.’

Kelly rolled her eyes at Charlotte, who, despite her pain, giggled. ‘Boys,’ Kelly whispered. ‘Always think they know everything.’ She continued to explore Charlotte’s arm gently, building the little girl’s confidence.

‘You’re wasting time, doctor ,’ the paramedic said. ‘I told you, we checked for dislocation. She needs an X-ray, not a massage.’

Kelly completely ignored him, positioned a hand on either side of Charlotte’s elbow and, with one deft movement, locked it back into place.

Her mother gasped. ‘She just relaxed. Instantly. Just like that.’

‘They always do with a dislocation. Once it’s back in, the pain eases immediately.’ Kelly took a juice box from a side table and punctured it with the disposable straw. ‘But it’s always best to check.’ She held the juice box out in front of Charlotte so she could only take it with her injured arm.

The little girl reached out without hesitation, snaffled the juice box and sucked from the straw delightedly beneath her mask, her eyes alight at this sudden turn of good fortune.

Kelly spoke to Charlotte’s mother. ‘The nurse will give you a sling. Keep her in that for the next twenty-four hours. She’ll be fine.

’ Then she winked at Charlotte and gently ruffled her hair.

‘See you, kid. Take care of yourself.’ She drew the curtain back, stepped out of the small cubicle and back into the centre of the emergency room where nurses bustled between patients and a baby screeched from behind one of the other curtained treatment areas.

The paramedics followed her out.

‘How did you know it was a dislocation?’ the big lump asked. He looked like a whining child who’d been denied a prize. ‘We couldn’t find anything.’

Kelly sighed. Why did they have to be so tiresome? ‘How did I know?’ she said. ‘Six years of med school, one year as an intern, one year as a resident and fifty-five kilos of raw talent.’

He stared coldly down at her.

‘I guess having a penis doesn’t make you omniscient, after all.’ She turned away and her pink-striped sneakers squeaked on the floor as she muttered: ‘You arrogant fuck.’

***

‘Raj, have you actually answered these questions?’ Kelly asked. She stared at him.

Raj was a brilliant student whose parents had emigrated from India before he was born. He still had a hint of the subcontinental accent when he was stressed. ‘Well, no, but I still thought I’d be able to take part in the group.’

‘You know the rules. If you don’t answer the questions, you don’t get to talk.’

Eli, who was sitting next to Raj on the couch, clicked his tongue. ‘They are the rules, Raj,’ he said.

Kelly couldn’t tell whether he was supporting her or taking the piss.

She ignored him and looked at the other two members for support, Joyce and Amber.

Joyce was a petite Chinese-Australian with geometrically perfect bangs and square-rimmed glasses; they were meeting in her apartment.

Amber was a no-nonsense country girl whose jeans, boots and checked shirt looked better suited to a rodeo than a medical faculty.

They didn’t work at the same hospital, but they did have one thing in common.

‘We chose each other for this group because we’re the smartest trainees on the program,’ Kelly said.

‘But we don’t get any benefit if you haven’t answered the questions. ’

Raj looked at his shoes, ran a hand through his short dark hair. ‘I’m sorry, Kelly. But I’ve worked three late shifts this week and just haven’t had time.’

‘Tell that to the examiner when you fail, Raj.’ She knew she sounded harsh, but it was for his own good – there was no time for sugar-coating reality.

This exam was going to be brutal. They all knew it.

Up to thirty per cent of trainees failed it the first time round.

Many failed it more than once. They had to try to predict every conceivable question across the entire paediatric physician spectrum.

If they wanted to specialise next year, they had to pass this exam first, then the clinical later in the year.

They had five weeks left to revise. Failure was not an option.

‘Why don’t we take a quick break?’ Eli said.

Kelly was about to reject the idea, but Raj, Joyce and Amber were already on their feet and almost sprinting to the kitchen to make coffee.

Eli sat back in his chair and stretched out his long, denim-clad legs.

He raised his arms out either side of him and dipped his head back.

His Adam’s apple protruded aggressively from his neck as he made an annoying groaning sound then whipped his head back up and snapped his legs in.

His black, curly, too-long hair bobbed like it wasn’t stuck to his head properly and his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose.

He took them off, rubbed his eyes and leaned forwards.

‘For the record, I agree with you on the Raj issue,’ he said.

Kelly raised an eyebrow. ‘Good to know.’

‘Man, you’re a hardarse.’

‘I just want to pass the exam.’

Eli clapped his hands and pointed them at Kelly. ‘And that, right there, is precisely why you won’t pass.’

Kelly stiffened. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘What do you do outside of work?’

‘I study.’

‘And what do you do outside of study?’

‘I work.’

‘Exactly. We’ve been in a study group for a year. How many times have I asked you to grab a coffee?’

‘Fourteen. And once you asked me if I wanted an iced tea.’

Eli’s eyes widened. ‘You counted?’

‘No. I remembered. I’m very good at that.’

‘But did you remember to have fun along the way, Kelly?’

‘Life’s not about fun, Eli. Not now anyway. Maybe after this year.’

‘When you’re an Advanced Trainee working sixty-hour weeks and running a research project?’

Kelly smiled despite herself. His poorly concealed grin and dogged persistence were kind of endearing. ‘Maybe that’s my idea of fun.’

Eli laughed. ‘If that’s your idea of fun, we are definitely going out together tonight.’

‘No, we’re not. When we’re done babysitting Raj, I’m going home to prepare for our next session.’

‘It’s Saturday. Take a night off.’ Eli rested his elbows on his knees, his hands in a prayer pose just below his chin. ‘I tell you what. If I get every question right for the rest of the afternoon, we go to dinner.’

Kelly shook her head at the absurdity of both ideas. ‘You’ll be eating alone, Romeo.’

When the session resumed, Eli answered six questions incorrectly.

Not even close.

Kelly was just a little bit disappointed.