Avedissian stayed silent while the lecture continued.
'I don't know why you’re here, Gillibrand
'Neither do I,' interrupted Avedissian who was beginning to tire of being dressed down by a man who, but for circumstances, would have been his peer rather than his superior.
'Are you serious?' asked Harmon.
'Yes.'
Harmon let out a long sigh and said, 'God, how I'm sick of secrets and intrigue and…' His hands sought the air as he searched for words. 'Charades. Some days I can't move for men in grey suits hiding behind plastic ID cards.'
'What do you mean?' asked Avedissian.
‘For the past month every A amp; E unit in the province has had an ‘intelligence presence.'
'I would have thought that normal under the circumstances,' replied Avedissian.
'Oh, I don't mean just the usual police interest in who's coming and going. There’s something else going on. Something has happened, or is about to happen, and they're listening. I've no idea what it is they're after and I don't think I want to know. I just wish that they would stay out of my road.'
'Maybe it's connected with O'Donnell's death,' suggested Avedissian. They could be listening for information about the new hierarchy.'
Harmon nodded and said, That might have been true but for the fact that this all started before O'Donnell died. But as you have brought up the subject I suppose you know that we are all sitting on a powder keg?'
Avedissian admitted that he had heard rumours about the new IRA leadership and the possibility of a show of strength.
The last time we went through this we finished up with four bin liners full of assorted limbs,' said Harmon.
Avedissian screwed up his face.
'I wish the bastards could come down here after their bloody bombs go off. I'd like to see them stand in the middle of that room out there and talk about their "struggle for freedom" among the blood and broken lives. They would have to shout above the screams, mind you. Who knows? They might even find the sound memorable.'
Avedissian nodded his agreement but reserved judgement on whether Harmon's words had a political basis or whether indeed they had come from the heart. He would decide when he got to know the man better.
'Well, Gillibrand, or whatever your name is, how does the prospect of assembling human jigsaw puzzles appeal to you?' asked Harmon.
'It doesn't,’ replied Avedissian. 'It fills me with disgust.'
A momentary flicker of surprise registered on Harmon's face. It was followed by a slight pause as if he had been forced to make some kind of reappraisal. He said quietly, 'it does me too. I'm glad you didn't see it as "a challenge". I've had too many buggers here who see it all as "a challenge". No people, just challenges.'
Avedissian smiled as he warmed to the man. 'Belfast on the c.v. equals another ten grand stateside,' he said.
It was Harmon's turn to smile. 'Exactly,' he said.
A nurse put her head round the door and apologised for interrupting before saying that Harmon was required in the Admission Suite.
'Join me,' said Harmon getting up.
Avedissian pulled on a white coat and felt good as he did so for he had come to believe that it was something that he would never do again. But his pleasure was tinged with apprehension. It had been a long time. Could he still cope?
'In at the deep end, eh?' said Harmon as they walked along the corridor together.
'Might as well,' replied Avedissian.
After a brief introduction to the nursing staff Avedissian was left to ask a man in his thirties how he had come to have fallen off the ladder in the first place.
As the day progressed Avedissian found himself dealing with a perfectly manageable procession of cuts and breaks and sprains. Harmon warned him that it was the lull before the storm but, even if it was, thought Avedissian, he was grateful for it was giving him precious time to ease himself back into medicine.
The first real pressure on him came in the late afternoon when six people who had been involved in a serious car accident were admitted. Two were dead on arrival and the other four were very badly injured. A cursory examination by Harmon to establish where priority lay left Avedissian to deal with a young man in his twenties suffering from severe chest and lower limb injuries. The man arrested as Avedissian worked on him and it was a very long ninety seconds before Avedissian's attempts to revive him were rewarded and the patient's heart was restarted.
Although his own pulse was racing and self-doubt had threatened him from all angles Avedissian had outwardly remained cool and professional throughout and Harmon had noticed. He looked across and said, 'Welcome to A amp; E.'
Avedissian acknowledged the comment with a nod but there was no time for conversation. He still had a lot to do to stabilise the boy's condition and there was another patient waiting.
‘There's a drug overdose on the way,' announced the unit sister. 'Female, 42, Librium.'
‘Thank you, Sister,' said Harmon without looking up. 'Prepare to wash her out will you.'
There were to be two more drug overdoses, three more car accidents, a scalding and the aftermath of a 'domestic dispute', as the police put it, before Avedissian felt able to sign off and leave the night to the duty housemen.
He climbed the stairs to his small room in the medical residency and flung himself down on the bed. He was tired, in fact he was exhausted, not just with the work, although that had been considerable, but mainly because of the mental stress that he had been under. The fear that he might have lost all his old ability as a doctor had proved to be unfounded but it had been no easy task laying it to rest.
Now he began to feel good. The truth was that it had been a very long time since he had felt so good and the austerity of his surroundings could do nothing to diminish the feeling, it would not have mattered had it been a deep, dark dungeon instead of a dingy, Victorian turret room in peeling NHS green. Bryant had been right. A amp; E was exactly what he needed. Belfast was doing for his self-esteem what Llangern had done for his body.
When his mind had calmed Avedissian's thoughts turned to food and he went to eat in the hospital staff restaurant before returning upstairs to begin reading. Harmon had thoughtfully furnished him with copious reading matter on the various aspects of military medicine and he began with a tome on the treatment of gunshot wounds.
Tension grew in the city as the days passed with still no move from the IRA to justify the rumours that had been circulating in the pubs about what they would do to avenge the death of Kevin O'Donnell. The more optimistic began to suggest that O'Donnell's death had been a bigger blow to the IRA than had previously been thought while the more realistic just waited. The weather did little to help for it was warm and uncommonly humid as if a still, wet cloud were pressing down on the city. It shortened tempers and made skin glisten at the slightest effort.
Avedissian ran his forefinger round the inside of his collar as he came on duty in the afternoon. There was an unpleasant, sour smell of sweat about the department which had persisted for days despite competition from anaesthetics and disinfectant. 'What have we got?' he asked the duty sister. 'Not much. One sprained ankle and a broken thumb.' The day continued routinely with troughs and peaks of activity until nine in the evening when Avedissian was thinking about calling it a day. As he took off his coat an ambulance drew up outside and the attendants carried in a woman who had obviously been badly beaten. As it was Harmon's day off and the houseman was busy with another patient Avedissian decided to stay and deal with the woman himself.
Her face was swollen and barely recognisable under a halo of beautiful red hair that was matted with blood along her forehead. Avedissian examined her limbs gently for broken bones but found no evidence of any damage other than severe bruising. He sent her to the X-Ray Department with a nurse in attendance and waited for the results.