Kitabı oku: «From Fling to Forever», sayfa 3

CHAPTER FOUR

AARON FELT SUDDENLY guilty as he knocked. Ella would have to drag herself out of bed to open the door.

Well, why not add another layer of guilt to go with his jumble of feelings about that night at the bar?

The boorish way he’d behaved—when he was never boorish.

The way he’d assumed her headache was the result of booze, when she’d actually been coming down with dengue fever.

The door opened abruptly. A pretty brunette, wearing a nurse’s uniform, stood there.

‘Sorry, I thought this was Ella Reynolds’s room,’ Aaron said.

‘It is.’ She gave him the appreciative look he was used to receiving from women—women who weren’t Ella Reynolds, anyway. ‘She’s in bed. Ill.’

‘Yes, I know. I’m Aaron James. A … a friend. Of the family.’

‘I’m Helen. I’m in the room next door, so I’m keeping an eye on her.’

‘Nice to meet you.’

She gave him a curious look and he smiled at her, hoping he looked harmless.

‘Hang on, and I’ll check if she’s up to a visit,’ Helen said.

The door closed in his face, and he was left wondering whether it would open again.

What on earth was he doing here?

Within a minute Helen was back. ‘She’s just giving herself a tourniquet test, but come in. I’m heading to the hospital, so she’s all yours.’

It was gloomy in the room. And quiet—which was why he could hear his heart racing, even though his heart had no business racing.

His eyes went first to the bed—small, with a mosquito net hanging from a hook in the ceiling, which had been shoved aside. Ella was very focused, staring at her arm, ignoring him. So Aaron looked around the room. Bedside table with a lamp, a framed photo. White walls. Small wardrobe. Suitcase against a wall. A door that he guessed opened to a bathroom, probably the size of a shoebox.

He heard a sound at the bed. Like a magnet, it drew him.

She was taking a blood-pressure cuff off her arm.

‘I heard you were ill,’ he said, as he reached the bedside. ‘I’m sorry. That you’re sick, I mean.’

‘I’m not too happy about it myself.’ She sounded both grim and amused, and Aaron had to admire the way she achieved that.

‘Who told you I was sick?’ she asked.

‘The hospital. I’m filming there for the next week.’

She looked appalled at that news. ‘Just one week, right?’

‘Looks like it.’

She nodded. He imagined she was calculating the odds of having to see him at work. Flattering—not.

He cleared his throat. ‘So what’s a tourniquet test?’

‘You use the blood-pressure machine—’

‘Sphygmomanometer.’

‘Well, aren’t you clever, Dr Triage! Yes. Take your BP, keep the cuff blown up to halfway between the diastolic and systolic—the minimum and maximum pressure—wait a few minutes and check for petechiae—blood points in the skin.’

‘And do you have them? Um … it? Petechiae?’

‘Not enough. Less than ten per square inch.’

‘Is that … is that bad?’

‘It’s good, actually.’

‘Why?’

Audible sigh. ‘It means I have classic dengue—not haemorrhagic. As good as it gets when every bone and joint in your body is aching and your head feels like it might explode through your eyeballs.’

‘Is that how it feels?’

‘Yes.’

Silence.

Aaron racked his brain. ‘I thought you might want me to get a message to Tina.’

Her lips tightened. Which he took as a no.

‘That would be no,’ she confirmed.

A sheet covered the lower half of her body. She was wearing a red T-shirt. Her hair was piled on top of her head, held in place by a rubber band. Her face was flushed, a light sheen of sweat covering it. And despite the distinct lack of glamour, despite the tightened lips and warning eyes, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

‘Shouldn’t you keep the net closed?’ he asked, standing rigid beside the bed. Yep—just the sort of thing a man asked a nurse who specialised in tropical illnesses.

‘Happy to, if you want to talk to me through it. Or you can swat the mosquitoes before they get to me.’

‘Okay—I’ll swat.’

She regarded him suspiciously. ‘Why are you really here? To warn me I’ll be seeing you at the hospital?’

‘No, because it looks like you won’t be. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. See if you needed anything.’

‘Well, I’m all right, and I don’t need anything. So thank you for coming but …’ Her strength seemed to desert her then and she rolled flat onto her back in the bed, staring at the ceiling, saying nothing.

‘I heard it was your birthday. That night.’

An eye roll, but otherwise no answer.

He came a half-step closer. ‘If I’d known …’

Aaron mentally winced as she rolled her eyes again.

‘What would you have done?’ she asked. ‘Baked me a cake?’

‘Point taken.’

Trawling for a new topic of conversation, he picked up the photo from her bedside table. ‘Funny—you and Tina sound nothing alike, and you look nothing alike.’

Silence, and then, grudgingly, ‘I take after my father’s side of the family. Tina’s a genetic throwback.’ She smiled suddenly, and Aaron felt his breath jam in his throat. She really was gorgeous when she smiled like that, with her eyes as well as her mouth—even if it was aimed into space and not at him.

He gestured to the photo. ‘I wouldn’t have picked you for a Disneyland kind of girl.’

‘Who doesn’t like Disneyland? As long as you remember it’s not real, it’s a blast.’

Aaron looked at her, disturbed by the harshness in her voice. Did she have to practise that cynicism or did it come naturally?

Ella raised herself on her elbow again. ‘Look, forget Disneyland, and my birthday. I do need something from you. Only one thing.’ She fixed him with a gimlet eye. ‘Silence. You can’t talk about that night, or about me being sick. Don’t tell Tina. Don’t tell Brand. My life here has nothing to do with them. In fact, don’t talk to anyone about me.’

‘Someone should know you’ve got dengue fever.’

‘You know. That will have to do. But don’t worry, it won’t affect you unless I don’t make it. And my advice then would be to head for the hills and forget you were ever in Cambodia, because my mother will probably kill you.’ That glorious smile again—and, again, not directed at him, just at the thought. ‘She never did like a bearer of bad tidings—quite medieval.’

‘All the more reason to tell them now.’

Back to the eye roll. ‘Except she’s not really going to kill you and I’m not going to drop dead. Look …’ Ella seemed to be finding the right words. ‘They’ll worry, and I don’t want them worrying about something that can’t be changed.’

‘You shouldn’t be on your own when you’re ill.’

‘I’m not. I’m surrounded by experts. I feel like I’m in an episode of your TV show, there are so many medical personnel traipsing in and out of this room.’

Aaron looked down at her.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Ella said.

‘Like what?’ Aaron asked. But he was wincing internally because he kind of knew how he must be looking at her. And it was really inappropriate, given her state of health.

With an effort, she pushed herself back into a sitting position. ‘Let me make this easy for you, Aaron. I am not, ever, going to have sex with you.’

Yep, she’d pegged the look all right.

‘You have a child,’ she continued. ‘And a wife, ex-wife, whatever. And it’s very clear that your … encumbrances … are important to you. And that’s the way it should be. I understand it. I respect it. I even admire it. So let’s just leave it. I was interested for one night, and now I’m not. You were interested, but not enough. Moment officially over. You can take a nice clear conscience home to Sydney, along with the film.’

‘Ella—’

‘I don’t want to hear any more. And I really, truly, do not want to see you again. I don’t want—Look, I don’t want to get mixed up with a friend of my sister’s. Especially a man with a kid.’

Okay, sentiments Aaron agreed with wholeheartedly. So he should just leave it at that. Run—don’t walk—to the nearest exit. Good riddance. So he was kind of surprised to find his mouth opening and ‘What’s Kiri got to do with it?’ coming out of it.

‘It’s just a … a thing with children. I get attached to them, and it can be painful when the inevitable goodbyes come around—there, something about me you didn’t need to know.’

‘But you’re working at a children’s hospital.’

‘That’s my business. But the bottom line is—I don’t want to see Kiri. Ergo, I don’t want to see you.’ She stopped and her breath hitched painfully. ‘Now, please …’ Her voice had risen in tone and volume and she stopped. As he watched, she seemed to gather her emotions together. ‘Please go,’ she continued quietly. ‘I’m sick and I’m tired and I—Just please go. All right?’

‘All right. Message received loud and clear. Sex officially off the agenda. And have a nice life.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, and tugged the mosquito net closed.

Aaron left the room, closed the door and stood there.

Duty discharged. He was free to go. Happy to go.

But there was some weird dynamic at work, because he couldn’t seem to make his feet move. His overgrown sense of responsibility, he told himself.

He’d taken two steps when he heard the sob. Just one, as though it had been cut off. He could picture her holding her hands against her mouth to stop herself from making any tell-tale sound. He hovered, waiting.

But there was only silence.

Aaron waited another long moment.

There was something about her. Something that made him wonder if she was really as prickly as she seemed …

He shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to wonder about Ella Reynolds. He’d done the decent thing and checked on her.

He was not interested in her further than that. Not. Interested.

He forced himself to walk away.

Ella had only been away from the hospital for eight lousy days.

How did one mortal male cause such a disturbance in so short a time? she wondered as she batted away what felt like the millionth question about Aaron James. The doctors and nurses, male and female, Khmer and the small sprinkling of Westerners, were uniformly goggle-eyed over him.

Knock yourselves out, would have been Ella’s attitude; except that while she’d been laid low by the dengue, Aaron had let it slip to Helen—and therefore everyone!—that he was a close friend of Ella’s film director brother-in-law. Which part of ‘Don’t talk to anyone about me’ didn’t he understand?

As a result, the whole, intrigued hospital expected her to be breathless with anticipation to learn what Aaron said, what Aaron did, where Aaron went. They expected Ella to marvel at the way he dropped in, no airs or graces, to talk to the staff; how he spoke to patients and their families with real interest and compassion, even when the cameras weren’t rolling; the way he was always laughing at himself for getting ahead of his long-suffering translator.

He’d taken someone’s temperature. Whoop-de-doo!

And had volunteered as a guinea pig when they’d been demonstrating the use of the rapid diagnostic test for malaria—yeah, so one tiny pinprick on his finger made him a hero?

And had cooked alongside a Cambodian father in the specially built facility attached to the hospital. Yee-ha!

And, and, and, and—give her a break.

All Ella wanted to do was work, without hearing his name. They’d had their moment, and it had passed. Thankfully he’d got the message and left her in peace once she’d laid out the situation. She allowed herself a quick stretch before moving onto the next child—a two-year-old darling named Maly. Heart rate. Respiration rate. Blood pressure. Urine output. Adjust the drip.

The small hospital was crowded now that the dengue fever outbreak was peaking. They were admitting twenty additional children a day, and she was run off her still-wobbly legs. In the midst of everything she should have been too busy to sense she was being watched … and yet she knew.

She turned. And saw him. Aaron’s son, Kiri, beside him.

Wasn’t the hospital filming supposed to be over? Why was he here?

‘Ella,’ Aaron said. No surprise. Just acknowledgement.

She ignored the slight flush she could feel creeping up from her throat. With a swallowed sigh she fixed on a smile and walked over to him. She would be cool. Professional. Civilised. She held out her hand. ‘Hello, Aaron.’

He took it, but released it quickly.

‘And sua s’day, Kiri,’ she said, crouching in front of him. ‘Do you know what that means?’

Kiri shook his head. Blinked.

‘It means hello in Khmer. Do you remember me?’

Kiri nodded. ‘Sua s’day, Ella. Can I go and see her?’ he asked, looking over, wide-eyed, at the little girl Ella had been with.

‘Yes, you can. But she’s not feeling very well. Do you think you can be careful and quiet?’

Kiri nodded solemnly and Ella gave him a confirming nod before standing again. She watched him walk over to Maly’s bed before turning to reassure Aaron. ‘She’s not contagious. It’s dengue fever and there’s never been a case of person-to-person transmission.’

‘Dr Seng said it deserved its own documentary. The symptoms can be like malaria, right? But it’s a virus, not a parasite, and the mosquitoes aren’t the same.’

Ella nodded. ‘The dengue mosquito—’ She broke off. ‘You’re really interested?’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘I just …’ She shrugged. ‘Nothing. People can get bored with the medical lingo.’

‘I won’t be bored. So—the mosquitoes?’

‘They’re called Aedes aegypti, and they bite during the day. Malaria mosquitoes—Anopheles, but I’m sure you know that—get you at night, and I’m sure you know that too. It kind of sucks that the people here don’t get a break! Anyway, Aedes aegypti like urban areas, and they breed in stagnant water—vases, old tyres, buckets, that kind of thing. If a mosquito bites someone with dengue, the virus will replicate inside it, and then the mosquito can transmit the virus to other people when it bites them.’ Her gaze sharpened. ‘You’re taking precautions for Kiri, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, yes. It’s been beaten it into me. Long sleeves, long pants. Insect repellent with DEET. And so on and so forth.’

‘You too—long sleeves, I mean. Enough already with the T-shirts.’

‘Yes, I know. I’m tempting fate.’

Silence.

He was looking at her in that weird way.

‘So, the filming,’ she said, uncomfortable. ‘Is it going well?’

‘We’re behind schedule, but I don’t mind because it’s given me a chance to take Kiri to see Angkor Wat. And the place with the riverbed carvings. You know, the carvings of the genitalia.’ He stopped suddenly. ‘I—I mean, the … um … Hindu gods … you know … and the—the … ah … Kal …? Kab …?’

Ella bit the inside of her cheek. It surprised her that she could think he was cute. But he sort of was, in his sudden embarrassment over the word genitalia. ‘Yes, I know all about genitalia. And it’s Kbal Spean, you’re talking about, and the Hindu God is Shiva. It’s also called The River of a Thousand Lingas—which means a thousand stylised phalluses,’ she said, and had to bite her cheek again as he ran a harassed hand into his hair.

‘So, the filming?’ she reminded him.

‘Oh. Yeah. A few more days here and then the final bit involves visiting some of the villages near the Thai border and seeing how the malaria outreach programme works, with the volunteers screening, diagnosing and treating people in their communities.’

‘I was out there a few years ago,’ Ella said. ‘Volunteers were acting as human mosquito bait. The mosquitoes would bite them, and the guys would scoop them into test tubes to be sent down to the lab in Phnom Penh for testing.’

‘But wasn’t that dangerous? I mean … trying to get bitten?’

‘Well, certainly drastic. But all the volunteers were given a combination drug cocktail, which meant they didn’t actually develop malaria.’

‘So what was the point?’

‘To verify whether the rapid treatment malaria programme that had been established there was managing to break the pathways of transmission between insects, parasites and humans. But you don’t need to worry. That was then, this is now. And they won’t be asking you to roll up your jeans and grab a test tube.’

‘Would you have rolled up your jeans, Ella?’

‘Yes.’

‘And risked malaria?’

‘I’ve had it. Twice, actually. Once in Somalia, once here.’

‘Somalia?’

Uh-oh. She was not going there. ‘Obviously, it didn’t kill me, either time. But I’ve seen it kill. It kills one child every thirty seconds.’ She could hear her voice tremble so she paused for a moment. When she could trust herself, she added, ‘And I would do anything to help stop that.’

Aaron was frowning. Watching her. Making her feel uncomfortable. Again. ‘But you’re not—Sorry, it’s none of my business, but Kiri isn’t going with you up there, right?’

‘No.’ Aaron frowned. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened. Closed.

‘Problem?’ she prompted.

‘No. But … Just …’ Sigh.

‘Just …?’ she prompted again.

‘Just—do you think I made a mistake, bringing him to Cambodia?’ he asked. ‘There were reasons I couldn’t leave him at home. And I thought it would be good for him to stay connected to his birth country. But, like you, he’s had malaria. Before the adoption.’

‘Yes, I gathered that.’

‘I’d never forgive myself if he got it again because I brought him with me.’

Ella blinked at him. She was surprised he would share that fear with her—they weren’t exactly friends, after all—and felt a sudden emotional connection that was as undeniable as it was unsettling.

She wanted to touch him. Just his hand. She folded her arms so she couldn’t. ‘I agree that children adopted from overseas should connect with their heritage,’ she said, ultra-professional. And then she couldn’t help herself. She unfolded her arms, touched his shoulder. Very briefly. ‘But, yes, we’re a long way from Sydney, and the health risks are real.’

‘So I shouldn’t have brought him?’

‘You said there were reasons for not leaving him behind—so how can I answer that? But, you know, these are diseases of poverty we’re talking about. That’s a horrible thing to acknowledge, but at least it can be a comfort to you. Because you know your son would have immediate attention, the best attention—and therefore the best outcome.’

He sighed. ‘Yes, I see what you mean. It is horrible, and also comforting.’

‘And it won’t be long until you’re back home. Meanwhile, keep taking those precautions, and if he exhibits any symptoms, at least you know what they are—just don’t wait to get him to the hospital.’

She swayed slightly, and Aaron reached out to steady her.

‘Sorry. Tired,’ she said.

‘You’re still not fully recovered, are you?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine. And my shift has finished so I’m off home in a moment.’

Ella nodded in Kiri’s direction. The little boy was gently stroking the back of Maly’s hand. ‘He’s sweet.’

‘Yes. He’s an angel.’

‘You’re lucky,’ Ella said. She heard the … thing in her voice. The wistfulness. She blinked hard. Cleared her throat. ‘Excuse me, I need to—Excuse me.’

Ella felt Aaron’s eyes on her as she left the ward.

Ella was doing that too-slow walk. Very controlled.

She’d lost her curves since the wedding. She’d been thin when he’d visited her a week ago, but after the dengue she was like a whippet.

But still almost painfully beautiful. Despite the messy ponytail. And the sexless pants and top combo that constituted her uniform.

And he still wanted her.

He’d been furious at how he’d strained for a sight of her every time he’d been at the hospital, even though he’d known she was out of action. Seriously, how pathetic could a man be?

He’d tried and tried to get her out of his head. No joy. There was just something … something under the prickly exterior.

Like the way she looked at Kiri when he’d repeated her Cambodian greeting. The expression on her face when she’d spoken about diseases of the poor. It was just so hard to reconcile all the pieces. To figure out that something about her.

He caught himself. Blocked the thought. Reminded himself that if there was something there, he didn’t want it. One more week, and he would never have to see or think of her again. He could have his peace of mind back. His libido back under control.

He called Kiri over and they left the ward.

And she was there—up the corridor, crouching beside a little boy who was on one of the mattresses on the floor, her slender fingers on the pulse point of his wrist.

Arrrggghhh. This was torture. Why wasn’t she on her way home like she was supposed to be, so he didn’t have to see her smile into that little boy’s eyes? Didn’t have to see her sit back on her heels and close her eyes, exhausted?

And wonder just who she really was, this woman who was prickly and dismissive. Knowledgeable and professional. Who wouldn’t think twice about letting mosquitoes bite her legs for research. Who looked at sick children with a tenderness that caused his chest to ache. Who made him feel gauche and insignificant.

Who made him suddenly and horribly aware of what it was like to crave something. Someone. It was so much more, so much worse, than purely physical need.

‘Ow,’ Kiri protested, and Aaron loosened his hold on Kiri’s hand.

Ella looked up, saw them. Froze. Nodding briefly, she got to her feet and did that slow walk out.

This was not good, Aaron thought.

A few days and he would be out of her life.

Ella felt that if only she didn’t have to converse with Aaron again, she would cope with those days.

But she hadn’t banked on the sight of him being such a distraction. Sauntering around like a doctor on regular rounds, poking his nose in everywhere without even the excuse of a camera. Not really coming near her, but always there.

It was somehow worse that he was keeping his distance, because it meant there was no purpose to the way she was perpetually waiting for him to show up.

Him and the boy, who reminded her so much of Sann.

It was painful to see Kiri, even from a distance. So painful she shouldn’t want to see him, shouldn’t want the ache it caused. Except that alongside the pain was this drenching, drowning need. She didn’t bother asking why, accepting that it was a connection she couldn’t explain, the way it had been with Sann.

On her fourth day back at work, after broken sleep full of wrenching nightmares, the last thing she needed was Aaron James, trailed by his cameraman, coming into the outpatient department just as a comatose, convulsing two-year-old boy was rushed up to her by his mother.

The look in Ella’s eyes as she reached for the child must have been terrible because Aaron actually ran at her. He plucked the boy from his mother’s arms. ‘Come,’ he said, and hurried through the hospital as though he’d worked there all his life, Ella and the little boy’s mother hurrying after him.

This was a child. Maybe with malaria. And Aaron was helping her.

How was she supposed to keep her distance now?