Read Online Crossfire by James Moloney - Free Book Online

mother’s condition worsened at home. There were more than a dozen people waiting for treatment, but while none of them seemed to take the least notice of Luke as he sat amongst them, he felt that his shame must be obvious to all. He wanted to cry, but the release of tears wouldn’t come.
    At seven o’clock, the noise and movement about the inquiries desk increased sharply. There seemed to be twice as many nurses and attendants milling about, chatting happily to one another and consulting their clip-boards. The day shift had finished and the night time staff were beginning their work. Luke watched the nurse who had quizzed him about his mother as she buttoned her red cardigan, then, swinging her handbag over her shoulder, hurried out of the casualty ward, walking briskly towards the carpark. He wished he was going home as well, with his mother recovered and in the car beside him.
    Not long after the change of shift, one of the nurses newly on duty came over to Luke. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked. ‘Do you wish to see a doctor?’
    â€˜Oh, no thanks,’ Luke assured her. ‘I’m just waiting for my mother.’
    The nurse, satisfied with his response — she heard the same phrase twenty times a day—moved on to check other patients. People came and went, a steady stream of bleeding gashes, broken bones and occasionally an hysterical victim screaming in pain or fright.
    Luke was hungry by now, but when he felt in his pockets, he found that he had no money at all. He stood up and wandered around the enormous waiting room. An old man was sitting by himself, away from the rest of the waiting patients. Then Luke saw why. The old man had a thermos flask and some sandwiches out on the seat beside him. He smiled at Luke. ‘Would you care for a sandwich and a cup of tea?’ he asked.
    With embarrassment Luke realised that he must have been staring at the man’s feast with obvious envy. He felt he should shake his head, hungry as he was, but the old man insisted, his unshaven cheeks stretching in a friendly grin. Luke sat beside him and took the sandwich.
    The old man began to talk. ‘It’s best to come in and see the doctors about this time. Not too busy. Later there’ll be a bigger crowd. Only trouble is, it’s about tea time, so I always bring a little snack to tide me over.’
    Luke was glad of it. He talked to the old man, telling him about the attack on his mother, and watched the incredulity sweep across the tired face. While he was speaking, his companion poured a cup of tea and handed it to him.
    â€˜So what are you going to do now?’ asked the old man.
    â€˜Wait,’ replied Luke quickly. ‘Until they decide what to do with Mum.’ He sat back in his chair as though to demonstrate how a person should perform this task called waiting.
    â€˜But your mother won’t still be here. This is just the first stage, for emergencies. No one stays here very long. They whisk you round for X-rays, maybe do a few temporary things, then they take you to the operating theatre or to a ward upstairs. You’d better go and ask the nurse where your mother is.’
    Luke was aghast. He had been determined not to leave his mother again and now this man seemed certain Alison had been spirited away without his knowledge. She could be sitting alone in some dark ward, angry and hurt that her son had deserted her for the second time that day.
    Luke almost ran to the inquiries desk and in his haste began interrogating the nurse there before she had even looked up from her clip-board. The dark frown on her face showed that she was not pleased about this. She responded none the less, checking the forms on the counter.
    â€˜Mrs Aldridge. Yes. She has been moved to Ward 4F to await surgery.’
    â€˜How do I get there?’ snapped Luke.
    â€˜You can’t. Mrs Aldridge will be under sedation, in any case.’ The nurse was about to say more but