Accidental Reunion

‘There you are.’

She didn’t move, didn’t turn around. He wasn’t going to see her cry.

‘Lila.’ His hand was on her shoulder, his touch so, so familiar that she felt an overwhelming urge to put her hand over his, to draw him nearer.

She turned to face him then. The music seemed to be speaking to her, reminding her of how good it had been. She knew then that she was lost.

Melting into his arms, she swayed slowly to the music. The warmth of his body, the silent strength in his embrace, the male scent of him all played their part in peeling the years away.

‘I never stopped missing you,’ he murmured. ‘You’ve been on my mind every day.’

‘I’ve missed you too,’ Lila admitted.

And how she had missed him. Missed the way he’d held her, the way he had loved her. The undisguised admiration in his eyes when he had looked at her, the way he had made her laugh, made her feel. Had she misjudged him so badly? Had she said goodbye to the best thing in her life over a stupid misunderstanding?

Carol Marinelli did her nursing training in England and then worked for a number of years in Casualty. A holiday romance while backpacking led to her marriage and emigration to Australia. Eight years and three children later the romance continues…Today she considers both England and Australia her home. The sudden death of her father prompted a reappraisal of her life’s goals and inspired her to tackle romance-writing seriously.

Recent titles by the same author:

DR CARLISLE’S CHILD

THE PREGNANT INTERN

THE ITALIAN’S TOUCH

Accidental Reunion

Carol Marinelli

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

‘I KNOW this is terrible news, Lila.’ Dr Mason gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘But at least now you know the reason for your mother’s mood swings and confusion.’

‘But Alzheimer’s!’ Lila closed her eyes, battling with tears. She had been doing a lot of reading on the subject since Alzheimer’s had been gently suggested as a possible diagnosis, and none of the books, none of the statistics, had given her even a shred of comfort. ‘How long—how long until…?’

‘Alzheimer’s is a progressive disorder, but, as the neurologist would have explained to you when he first referred your mother for tests, the progression of the disease varies in each individual. It could be months, it could be years. However…’ The pause as Dr Mason searched for the right words seemed interminable, yet Lila found herself wishing he would stop right there. Stop before he took away her last ray of hope. ‘In your mother’s case the progress has been rather rapid. Elizabeth is already at the stage where she requires some degree of supervision, and I’m sorry to say that isn’t going to improve. Now, I know that what with your job and everything—’

‘I’ll sort something out,’ Lila interrupted quickly.

‘Lila, you’re a flight attendant,’ Dr Mason pointed out. ‘Your mother needs round-the-clock supervision; she really can’t be left alone.’

‘Well, I’ll give up the long-haul flights and switch to domestic. My aunt will help out while I’m working. She said she would, if the news was bad.’

‘Short term, maybe. Look, Lila, I don’t know your aunt, and I’m sure her intentions are good, but we’re talking months—years, even—of care for your mother. At some point you’re going to have to think about a home.’

‘No!’ The single word spilled from her lips forcefully. ‘Look, I know you’re a doctor, and I know you think you know how it will end up, but this is my mother we’re talking about, and she’s not going into a home. I’m going to look after her.’

Dr Mason didn’t push; he was more of a family friend than a GP. He had delivered Lila into the world twenty-three years ago. He had seen her through inoculations and ear infections, and later acne and all the usual teenage angst. He could remember her shyly coming into his office to discuss contraception, her face glowing as she spoke about her beloved Declan. He had watched her grow from a cheeky, chubby baby with a mass of blonde curls into a groomed, jet-setting woman. Seeing her sitting there now, with a pained, dignified look on her face as she struggled to come to terms with the terrible news, he felt her pain too.

Still cheeky, though, he thought affectionately as he fiddled with his fountain pen. Still impulsive, and still with a heart of gold. Dr Mason loved his job most of the time, but on days like this…

‘Look, you don’t have to make any decision today; this is a long haul we’re talking about here. I just feel you’d be better prepared if you at least start to address some of the issues that are likely to present themselves. Looking after your mum at home is going to be a big deal. We’re talking full-time care, lifting, feeding and washing. Unless you can afford a carer, unless you’ve got a lot of support, you’re simply not going to be able to do it.’

‘I’ll work something out.’

Dr Mason watched Lila gather her bag. ‘I’ve got together some literature for you to read once you get your breath back,’ he said gently. ‘There’re also the numbers of some support groups that you might like to contact.’

‘I’ll see.’ Standing, Lila shook Dr Mason’s hand. ‘Thank you for being so honest; I know this can’t have been easy.’

‘I’ll call round in a couple of days.’ Opening the consulting-room door, he saw the flash of tears in her eyes as she brushed past him. ‘I am sorry, Lila. I just wish it could have been better news.’

* * *

Declan tried to be sympathetic when she told him, but his fifth year medical student brain simply wasn’t up to the questions Lila kept hurling at him.

‘Lila, you’re jumping the gun,’ he responded when Lila threatened to resign from the airline. ‘The doctor said, it could be years—you don’t have to throw in your job.’

‘Someone has to look after her.’

‘Of course, but you need to work. Surely your aunt—’

‘I can’t expect Shirley to just give up her life and look after her sister.’

He ran an exasperated hand through his long dark curls, screwing his grey eyes closed for a second as he tried to take in the enormity of the news Lila had just divulged. He knew he should stay calm, be the strong one, support her decisions. But he couldn’t just let her destroy her life, and the Lila he knew and loved was more than capable of doing just that!

Her impulsive nature was one of the things he loved about her most. But, seeing her standing there in his living room, about to make all the wrong decisions, he had to step in—had to stop Lila in her tracks and make her see sense.

‘You haven’t even spoken to her about it,’ he reasoned. ‘Once the news has sunk in then we can all sit down and work something out. If you won’t listen to me, then listen to what Dr Mason said: ‘‘You don’t have to make any decisions today.’’ He’s right. When you go home your mum’s going to be there, just as she was this morning; the only difference is that now you know what’s wrong. Don’t go handing in your notice or doing anything rash.’

But his words fell on deaf ears.

‘What if I studied nursing? I’d be living at home then, and by the time Mum needs full-time care I’d at least know what I was doing.’ She was clutching at straws now, throwing up ideas, trying anything to gain control of this awful situation.

‘You? Nurse? Oh, come on, Lila. All the nurses I’ve come across are organised, dedicated—they don’t just decide on a Tuesday morning that nursing is the job for them. They have a vocation, a passion for it. You’re the scattiest person I know—not that I love you any less for it—and the only thing you’re dedicated to is international shopping. For heaven’s sake, darling, you don’t even like the sight of blood!’ Maybe it was helplessness, maybe it was a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, but when Declan committed the cardinal sin of laughing at the idea Lila turned promptly on her heel.

‘Lila, don’t walk off.’ Declan followed her out to the hall. ‘Don’t leave while you’re upset. Come on, we need to talk about this—we need to work something out.’

‘That,’ retorted Lila, her words filled with venom, her eyes blazing, ‘was what I was trying to do. You get back to your books, Declan, and leave me to get on with my life.’

Slamming the door on the town house Declan shared with his fellow students, Lila marched off, safe in the knowledge he wouldn’t run after her, given the fact he was dressed only in boxer shorts.

‘Lila!’

Flemington Road was amongst the busiest in Melbourne. Lila wasn’t the only one to look shocked as he raced along the pavement after her.

‘Come back inside—please,’ he begged, oblivious of the curious stares of onlookers.

A tram was approaching and Lila flagged it down, scrabbling in her bag for her travel card.

‘Lila!’ His voice was urgent now.

‘Goodbye, Declan.’

As the tram moved off she willed herself not to turn around but sat there rigid, her eyes trained on the driver in front. The old lady sitting next to her had no such reserve, though. Craning her neck, she gave Lila an unwelcome update as the tram turned right at the roundabout.

‘He’s still there, God love him, just standing there in his undies. You’ve given him a scare, love, why don’t you get off now and go back to him?’

What was it with Australians? Why did they have to be so damned friendly? Why couldn’t she live in London, where people sat on the underground and pretended not to notice someone fainting?

‘There’s no point,’ Lila said flatly, tears welling in her eyes as the full enormity of the situation hit her. There really was no point at all. Sure, if she got off now they’d make up—he’d take her in his arms and tell her it would all be all right, that he loved her and would always be there for her. But how could he make a promise like that when there was so much uncertainty ahead? The Lila Bailey he loved was independent, with a job to die for and a wardrobe to match. How would he feel when she was stuck at home, nursing her mother, who, with even the best will in the world, was only going to get worse?

As she walked in the front door she braced herself, unsure of what she would find today. The bathroom flooded? A burning pot on the stove, perhaps? Instead, her mother was dozing peacefully in the armchair, her eyes flicking open as Lila made her way across the room.

‘Hello, darling, how was the flight?’

‘I haven’t been at work, Mum. I just went to see Declan.’

Elizabeth screwed up her nose. ‘Frightful young man. He can’t be trusted, you know. He’s exactly like your father. And we all know how that turned out.’

Standing, she smiled warmly at her daughter. ‘You have a seat, dear, and put your feet up. I’ll see about getting you a nice cup of tea and perhaps some cake.’

Slipping into the chair, Lila felt herself start to relax. Maybe Declan was right and she was jumping the gun. Mum was fine. It could be years down the track…

‘How was Singapore?’ Elizabeth asked, returning moments later with a cup of hot sugared water. ‘You must be exhausted after such a long flight.’

It was on that day Lila rang to make enquiries about applying to study for a Bachelor of Nursing.

It was on that day she finished with Declan.

CHAPTER ONE

LILA burst into the observation ward, her blonde hair flying, her bag falling off her shoulder.

‘Calm down, they haven’t started yet.’ Sue Finch patted the chair beside her. ‘I saved you a seat.’

‘Don’t you hate that?’ Lila rolled her eyes. ‘They tell us to be here at eight—an hour before our shift starts—and then they can’t even get it started on time.’

‘Just as well or you’d have been late—again.’ Sue grinned. ‘Luckily the Horse is stuck round in Resus, so your lack of punctuality will go unnoticed—this time,’ she added pointedly.

The Horse was the name Hester Randall, the nurse unit manager, was rather unaffectionately known by, due to the fact that the only time she showed any glimpse of being human was when she spoke about one of her beloved horses. Lila had started the nickname after a particularly bad dressing-down from her senior and it had soon caught on. ‘What kept you, anyway?’

‘I started watching the gymnastics on television, and before I knew it it was after seven.’

‘Since when have you been interested in gymnastics?’ Sue asked.

‘Since a couple of hours ago. I don’t know what all the fuss is about—it doesn’t look that difficult. I’m sure if I practised I could do it.’ She laughed at Sue’s incredulous look. ‘I’m serious. They were just dancing around waving a couple of ribbons.’

‘They practise for years—hours every day,’ Lucy Heath, another of the night nurses, pointed out.

‘Exactly my point.’ Flicking back the curtains pulled around the empty ward and seeing the coast was clear, Lila picked up a couple of finger bandages and unravelled them. ‘Watch and learn,’ she said to her delighted audience, and, executing a perfect pirouette, she twirled the ribbons as she danced around the room, egged on by the laughter coming from her colleagues. Too wrapped up in her impromptu routine, she didn’t notice the laughter had suddenly changed to a fit of embarrassed coughing.

‘When you’ve finished wasting the hospital supplies, Sister Bailey, perhaps we can get on with the evening’s lecture?’

Turning, Lila stopped in her tracks, her face turning pale as Hester Randall marched in, accompanied by a couple of medical personnel. Lila took her seat next to Sue, concentrating on rolling the bandages—anything rather than look up. It wasn’t Hester’s untimely appearance that had upset her; Lila was far too used to that by now. The trembling in her hands, the rapid rise in her heart rate, were exclusively due to the, oh, so familiar grin that had greeted Lila’s eyes as she’d spun around.

‘Before we start I’d like to take a moment to introduce two new faces that are soon going to become very familiar to us all. Yvonne Selles is the hospital’s new geriatric registrar, and will be delivering tonight’s talk. Yvonne has moved to Melbourne all the way from Scotland, so I trust you will do your utmost to make her feel welcome. The other new face belongs to Dr Declan Haversham, our new emergency registrar. Theoretically he shouldn’t be starting for another month, but as you know we are short of a night doctor for the next few weeks, and Declan has agreed to step in.’

Lila had known this day would come—that one day their paths would cross again. But the eight years that had elapsed since their last meeting, or rather parting, had almost convinced her that she was worrying unnecessarily. Almost convinced her that maybe she could get through the rest of her life without coming face to face with Declan.

It was no big deal, Lila tried to convince herself as she finished rolling the bandages. It was just an ex-boyfriend—hardly big league stuff; she could handle this!

But it was a big deal, she finally acknowledged. Eight years might have passed, but not a day or night had gone by when Declan hadn’t been in her thoughts. His tousled black hair, the grey eyes that crinkled around the edges when he laughed, or softened when he gazed into hers…Correction, Lila reminded herself, the same eyes that had mocked her when she had tentatively told him her plans, and the same cheeky grin that had turned into a scornful laugh.

Peeking up from under her fringe, she saw that he was staring directly at her. Feigning uninterest, Lila flicked her gaze away, but not before she saw a smile tug at the corner of his lips. That small glimpse was enough to tell her the years had treated him well. His hair was shorter, neater now, and he looked even taller, if that was possible. And the suit under his white coat had obviously set him back a bit. His eyes still crinkled, though, she mused, desperately trying to focus on Yvonne Selles’s lecture, and nothing could diminish the impact of those eyes on hers…

‘My intention is to highlight to the staff here the special needs of elderly patients in the accident and emergency department.’ Yvonne’s lilting Scottish accent forced the staff to listen more carefully. ‘Would any of you like to suggest what specific problems they might face during their time here?’

‘Missing out on their regular medication?’ Sue suggested.

‘Excellent. Their GP will have spent a lot of time educating them, insisting that they take their medication at a certain time, stressing the importance of not missing a dose. The elderly patients might suffer with dementia, might be confused, but they know that at six p.m. they have to take their blue tablet—or their insulin, perhaps. Then they come into Emergency and, lo and behold, a nurse tells them that as it isn’t prescribed they can’t have it, and, anyway, missing out on one dose isn’t going to cause a problem. It can take weeks to undo that sort of damage when in truth it could be so easily prevented. Can anyone suggest how?’

‘By getting them seen more quickly, perhaps,’ Lila suggested. ‘Even if not for a full assessment, at least a doctor could write up an interim order for their regular meds, enabling the staff to give them if required.’

She could feel Declan’s eyes on her and couldn’t help a small blush as she spoke. It felt surreal, discussing medical issues with him in the room.

‘Well done. Any other problem that comes to mind?’

Yvonne was looking directly at her now, and Lila had no choice but to make a suggestion. ‘Pressure areas?’

‘Another good point. Unlike the wards, the emergency department doesn’t have a routine as such. Emergency staff are busy dealing with the immediate and in some cases life-threatening problem that has caused the patient to present in the first place. So often elderly people lie on hard trolleys without the very basics of nursing care being addressed. By the time they get to the wards damage has been inflicted upon their frail skin. So what can be done?’

It was Lucy who responded this time. ‘Implement a system of assessing an elderly patient when they come in—if they need pressure area care then make sure it’s carried out regularly.’

‘It wouldn’t work,’ Lila said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe for a couple of weeks, but sooner or later everyone would slip back into the old ways. We could start doing four-hourly pressure area rounds, like on the wards. Anybody needing pressure area care would be treated then.’

‘A fantastic idea. What do you think, Hester?’

Yvonne turned and addressed the unit manager, who gave a thin smile. ‘Worth some thought, I’m sure,’ Hester agreed, though her tone could hardly be described as enthusiastic.

The meeting continued in the same vein. They bounced ideas off each other, trying to come up with solutions to the endless problems nursing threw up, but finally at ten to nine they were done, leaving just enough time to grab a quick coffee before the night shift started.

‘Thanks a bunch,’ Sue said good-naturedly as they picked up their bags. ‘If we don’t have enough work already, now the Horse will have us doing pressure area rounds. I came down to Emergency to escape all that!’

‘Sister Bailey, if I could have a quick word in my office?’ Hester’s voice was hardly friendly, and, forgoing any chance of a coffee, Lila turned and followed her boss down the corridor, closing the door behind her as Hester took a seat at her desk.

Anticipating a ticking off for her gymnastic display, Lila tried to keep her face impassive. Her lateness she could accept being told off for—after all, none of the staff knew the true extent of her mother’s illness. If they had she was sure they would have happily made allowances. However, Lila consistently refused to apologise for having a bit of fun now and then. Heaven knew, the staff worked hard enough in this department—between them they saw enough terrible sights to send even the most stable person searching their soul. Letting off a bit of steam at work did no harm, in Lila’s eyes; in fact, she felt it did a lot of good. It was a point she and Hester would never agree on, and one of the many reasons Lila preferred night duty. Away from the politics of days, away from the bureaucracy and the demands of admin, staff were able to get on with what they were paid to do—nurse.

But for now, at least, the waste of two hospital bandages wasn’t what Hester had on her mind.

‘I’ve been going through the applications for the night associate charge nurse position, and I see you’re not amongst them.’

As she sat down on the chair Lila’s impassive expression slipped for a moment. ‘I thought it would be a waste of time,’ she admitted honestly, after a moment’s silence.

‘Why? Don’t you want the job?’ Hester’s voice was crisp, her stare direct, but, undaunted, Lila looked her directly in the eye.

‘On the contrary, I’d love the position. However, I know that we don’t always see eye to eye on my methods of nursing—’

‘Your nursing methods don’t worry me,’ Hester interrupted. ‘I don’t doubt for a moment that you’re an excellent nurse. If I had any concerns in that area you’d have been gone long ago. What concerns me is your disregard for detail, your casual attitude to the rules, your lateness.’

Which was a backhanded compliment if ever Lila had heard one. Biting back a smart reply, she kept her voice even. ‘Which is why I didn’t apply for the job.’

Hester didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she flicked through the pile of résumés on the desk in front of her. ‘All of these are from external applicants. While I don’t doubt that their credentials are excellent, and while I agree I don’t always see eye to eye with you, Lila, I do think you’re a good nurse. I’m also paid to have foresight, and I can’t see it going down too well with the rest of your colleagues if I employ an outsider for a job you’re effectively already doing.’

Hester had a point there. Since Jane Church had left, more often than not Lila had been in charge of the department, and the rest of the night staff had been pushing endlessly for Lila to apply for the position permanently.

‘Now, I’m certainly not going to hand you such a senior position on a plate, but I definitely would seriously consider you if you decided to go ahead and apply. Who knows? When it’s you handling the stock-ordering and budgets, maybe a measly couple of bandages might take on a greater importance.’

Lila managed a faintly sheepish grin as Hester continued. ‘The applications close tomorrow at five p.m. It’s up to you whether your name’s amongst them. I’d better let you get back to the unit.’

Making her way back to emergency, Lila shook her head in disbelief. Hester suggesting she apply for the position was the last thing she had been expecting. Correction, Lila thought as she rounded the corner and saw Declan standing by the whiteboard, studying the patient list. Declan Haversham strolling back into her life as, of all things, the newly appointed emergency registrar was the last thing. How on earth was she supposed to deal with this?

As she approached the huddle of nurses taking the handover, painfully aware of his eyes on her, Lila took a deep breath. It was going to be a long, long night.

Once the handover was completed, as the nurse in charge it was up to Lila to assign the nurses their various roles for the night. It was quite a complicated task. Assessing the patients who were in the department, along with nurses’ capabilities, was a constantly evolving juggling act.

‘Sue, you take the obs ward, if anyone gets admitted, otherwise stay down in section A with me. For now start shifting some of the patients up to the wards,’ Lila said, writing swiftly on the whiteboard as she did so. ‘Lucy and Amy, you stay in section A with me, and help Sue. We’ll all cover Resus together. Gemma, perhaps you could close section B now and bring the patient list up here. And, girls,’ she added, calling back the dispersing group, ‘remember your para-training.’

‘Will do, Lila.’ Sue grinned. ‘Hey, what did the Horse want?’

‘What do you think she wanted?’ Lila said lightly. She certainly wasn’t about to divulge the real reason for Hester’s little chat. It would be bad enough not getting the job, without every one knowing about it! ‘You do realise I cost the hospital four dollars tonight, teaching you Neanderthals the finer points of gymnastics.’

‘And a real treat it was, too.’ Lila pointedly didn’t look round as Declan came over.

‘I never knew you were such a talented gymnast.’ She could hear the familiar dry humour in his voice, but still she didn’t look. ‘But then what would I know? I never even realised you were a nurse.’

Sue gave them both a quizzical look. ‘I’ll get cubicle four up to the ward, then,’ she said, leaving them to it.

For the longest time they stood there, both pretending to study the whiteboard. It was Declan who finally broke the silence. ‘So you were serious about nursing after all?’

Lila gave a curt nod. ‘It looks that way.’

‘I guess you must have got over your weak stomach?’

‘Not in the slightest.’

He looked up at her wry chuckle. ‘But you work in Emergency!’ His voice was incredulous, but Lila was used to shock when she admitted her weakness. Her response was well rehearsed.

‘Name one person who loves every aspect of their job.’ When he didn’t immediately answer Lila jumped right in. ‘See, you can’t! Emergency isn’t just about blood and gore—that’s just one aspect of it…’

A smile was twitching on his lips, and those smoky dark eyes were crinkling in that endearingly familiar way.

‘What?’ Her voice was defensive, an instinctive reaction to his response. She still read his face so well, almost knew what he was thinking.

‘You’re still as passionate as ever.’ He cleared his throat, as if realising the faux pas he had just committed. ‘I mean…’ His voice trailed off.

Passionate. The word hung in the air between them, conjuring dangerous images of long ago.

Images best forgotten.

Finally he found his voice. ‘How on earth do you cope?’

She swallowed hard. ‘Red cordial helps.’ Her words were light and glib, a deliberate attempt to lighten the increasing tension.

‘Red cordial?’

‘Any blood I see, I just imagine it’s cordial.’

He was really smiling now. ‘And does it work?’

‘Mostly.’

‘And when it doesn’t?’

It was Lila’s turn to smile now. Rolling her eyes, she pulled a face. ‘I just hope for a soft landing.’

‘You’re not serious?’

‘Absolutely. But don’t worry,’ she added quickly, ‘I always get heaps of warning, and I haven’t fallen on top of a patient yet—touch wood.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ There was a long pause as again they pretended to look at the whiteboard. ‘How’s your mum doing?’ His voice was gentle now, wary.

‘She’s fine. Well, not fine, exactly, but we’re managing.’

‘That’s good.’ The silence that followed was deafening. ‘Where is she now?’

Lila turned then, the look of contempt on her face clearly apparent. ‘At home, Declan, with me—where she belongs.’

‘But how…?’ His voice was bewildered now. ‘It’s been eight years. How do you manage? I mean with work and everything?’

‘I manage.’ She gave him the frostiest of looks. ‘That’s all you need to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get on.’ But as she went to go his hand reached out and caught her wrist, gently pulling her back.

‘Lila,’ he said, not letting her go. ‘I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable—I had no idea that you worked here.’

Though he wasn’t holding her tightly, she was achingly aware of the force of his touch. Shrugging him off, Lila picked up a marker pen. ‘Well, how would you know? It’s not as if we kept in touch…’

‘Which was your choice, as I recall.’

Crossing out the name of the patient in cubicle four on the whiteboard, Lila scribbled in the new patient’s details. ‘I can assure you, Declan, your being here doesn’t worry me one bit. We’ve both got jobs to do. It doesn’t mean we have to be the best of friends; we’re just colleagues.’

‘No, but it would be nice if we could at least be civil. Who knows? With a bit of effort from both sides maybe we could be friends again. After all, we had some good times, Lila.’

She hesitated. Friends was the last thing she could ever be with him, but if she betrayed the strength of the emotions that were engulfing her now then surely that would only make things more uncomfortable. Forcing a smile, Lila turned and faced him, dragging her eyes up to meet his. ‘Sure—why not?’ she said finally, offering her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you Dr Haversham.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Sister Bailey. Tell me, would you be interested in catching up for a drink some time?’

Lila’s laugh was almost genuine. ‘Don’t push your luck, Declan. Friends at work is enough to be going on with, I think. Don’t you?’

* * *

By eleven p.m. the place was full, fit to burst. Not only were there a lot of sick people waiting to be seen and dealt with, but also the pubs were turning out and with them the inevitable fights and arguments that invariably found their way to the emergency department. The staff were all more than used to the organised chaos, and dealt good-humouredly with the constant stream, keeping a careful eye out for any likely sources of trouble.