Harry sat on the pavement opposite what was left of Nightingale wing. He clutched a polystyrene cup but the contents had long sinse cooled. The frost gathering on the windows of the few fire trucks still parked in front of the building signaled that Harry’s morning coffee was not the only thing that had got cold. The last remaining emergency service members that still milled about and the shocked staff members arriving for work that were rubbing their hands together for warmth didn’t contradict what Harry was feeling either.

It was worlds away from the inferno that had raged for hours the night before, claiming countless lives. The whole scene before him looked different in a new light, he could hardly believe that it wasn’t all a terrible dream.

“Can I get you anything Mr. Harper?”

Harry shook his head politely at the voice without even looking up to see who it was and hears footsteps as they walked away. It seemed like everyone knew who he was. If they hadn’t before last night, they certainly did now. “Super doc from A&E, risking his own life to save others.”

He couldn’t save them all though could he? And that’s all Harry could concentrate on. Rosie, Connie, little Zoe… He’d helped them all escape. But he felt like he’d failed. He couldn’t save Jim.

He’d been sitting in the same spot for a while. He didn’t know how long exactly, long enough to grow tired of the countless people offering their sympathy and support. He didn’t even know them, he didn’t want to see strangers, much less put in the effort of making small talk with them.

Harry hadn’t got home until the early hours of the morning and already he was back way before his shift was due to start. He knew that his staff could have probably done with and extra pair of hands but he felt so exhausted, so drained that he didn’t think he would have been a lot of use. When he was stuck inside the burning hospital, fearful of his life, all he wanted to do was get home to his kids. But he didn’t have the energy to see them or talk to them, but at the same time couldn’t sleep. He was stuck in limbo, in that strange place between conscious and unconscious, for most of the night so eventually gave up and came back with next to no sleep.

He felt he needed to be here, doing something he felt comfortable and in control at, but that had all gone down the drain after last night. If he was honest, he didn’t know what he wanted.

“Harry. How are you feeling this morning?”

He was about to open his mouth and tell the voice that he was fine and just wanted to be alone but he lifted his head from staring at the pavement and saw who it was.

Connie was standing there looking as drained as he felt, but somehow she still managed to look fresh and beautiful. Her eyes were dark and it looked like she had been crying. Harry never thought he’d see that from the great Mrs. Beauchamp. She offered him a half smile. “Rough night.”

Harry nodded. “You could say that yeah.”

Connie sighed. She seemed to relax but still didn’t join him on the pavement. ‘Probably worried about spoiling her suit’ he though, but found it oddly comforting. Like everything was normal and she was still bothered about giving the right impression, even amongst the turmoil.

“Listen Harry, we did well last night. I’m sorry about Jim.” He’d been getting fed up all morning of people saying they’re sorry when it they had nothing to do with it, but it sounded differently coming from Connie. It sounded sincere. Harry didn’t say anything. “I feel awful. The board asked my opinion on the ‘renegade yank’ downstairs when they were making a decision and I told them I didn’t care. He was a fine doctor and a great man to give his life like that.” She paused when Harry gave her a questioning look. “I saw Rosie at St. James’ when we took Zoe. From what she told me and what I saw he was brilliant, he has my respect.”

Harry smiled. “Yeah, he was.” He paused, not really wanting to relive the events of the night before. “So, um….. How’s Zoe doing?”

Connie coughed, seemingly happy to get the soppy stuff over with so she could return to talking about something she was comfortable with, her work. “When I left she was critical, but alive. Time will tell.”

“It could have been a lot worse you know, everything. We really are working with the best.”

Connie looked down at Harry’s cold coffee. “I’ll buy you another one later if you like, one that’s slightly hotter.”

“Well it depends” Harry replied, starting to mirror the cheeky flirtatious manner that Connie seemed to adopt as an emotional barrier, “You know what the ED’s like. People won’t stop having accidents just because the hospital’s burnt down.”

“I know, how inconsiderate. Did you mean it, about coming down and seeing how you worked? Last night made me think. Perhaps I could learn something.”

Harry smiled. “Absolutely. Although maybe without the PVC.”

Connie flashed him a knowing grin. “Depends what mood I’m in.”

Claire came running out of the ambulance entrance towards him wrapped up in a fleece trying to keep out the cold. “Here we go” he said, spotting her, “no rest for the weary.”

“Sorry Harry, Tess said she’d seen you out here.” She stopped and greeted Harry with a nod and looked rather warily at Connie. “Josh called ahead, there’s been an RTC, there are 3 casualties on their way, we could really use your help.”

“Thanks Claire, I’ll be right in.” She turned and headed back inside and shrugged at Connie. “Ever wish the world would stop turning for a minute so you could catch up?”

“There’s no point wishing for things that are never going to happen Mr. Harper. Nor for things that have happened that you can’t change.” It would have sounded patronizing if it weren’t for the little wink she gave him and she adjusted her bag on her shoulder and turned to leave, “Let’s concentrate on things we can make a difference in. Like saving the lives of our patients.”

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up, brushing the gravel off his trousers. “Better get started.”

Connie turned around right “That offer works both ways. Come up and se how us superheroes work on Cardiothoracics. Perhaps you could help kick Mr. Curtis into gear.”

Harry chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll think of a way to do that on your own. Perhaps involving that PVC outfit you were talking about.”

Connie didn’t say anything more. Just gave him a silent wink before jogging across the road in her high heels and ran up the steps and through the main entrance. Perhaps he was right, he might be able to learn something from her. He’d certainly seen enough in the last 24 hours, some of which he’d rather forget, to open his eyes about his colleagues. Bravery in the face of danger, that’s what he’d like to see more often.

And perhaps Mrs. Beauchamp in a catsuit.