Kitabı oku: «The Outback Nurse», sayfa 3
‘Could Brian get up to him for a couple of nights, at the weekend perhaps so you could get a break?’ Olivia volunteered. ‘Perhaps if you expressed some milk?’
Jean shook her head. ‘He’s up at five a.m. to go to the farm. It’s the same at weekends—the cows still need milking. I can’t expect him to be awake at night with the kids.’
Olivia finally realised the woman’s predicament. Just then Sam stirred and let out a piercing cry, which made them all jump. It was amazing just how much noise a small baby could make. Clem picked up the infant as Jean started to weep.
‘What’s wrong with him, Clem?’
‘Put him to your breast, Jean, and let me see you feed him.’ Olivia spoke calmly, and Clem handed Sam to his mother. The irate baby arched his back and butted against Jean’s breast, searching frantically for and finding her nipple. He latched on and mercifully relaxed. Making little whimpering noises, he suckled hungrily.
‘Very good, Jean, you’re doing wonderfully,’ Clem encouraged. ‘Just try and relax.’ At that point Sam let out a furious wail and the angry protest started again.
Jean was just about at breaking point. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ she screamed above the ear-splitting shrieks of her son.
Olivia walked over and gently took the baby from the distraught woman. The baby snuffled against her. Olivia felt his hot, angry little face against hers, breathing in the familiar baby smell. Rocking Sam, gently trying to soothe him, she contemplated Jean’s situation. For all her knowledge and training she had no real experience. Here was a woman who had borne four babies to her nil. She had a husband and children to care for and a house she was proud of. The well-rehearsed platitudes of ‘persevere’ and ‘things will get better’ seemed woefully inadequate. Olivia could see what was wrong. Jean had plenty of milk but she wasn’t letting down, probably because she was too tense. Appearances mattered, and to tell this woman to ignore the housework and concentrate on the baby, to get a take-away and not worry about dinner, would be like speaking a foreign language. Heck, there wasn’t a burger bar for two hundred kilometres.
Clem watched Olivia closely as she rocked the baby. Sam rooted hopefully and, finding her finger, sucked hungrily, but again there came the same wail of frustration.
‘He’s hungry, Jean,’ Olivia said.
‘He can’t be. I fed him just an hour ago. You saw me just try—that’s not what he wants.’
Olivia gently but firmly explained about the letdown reflex. ‘It’s automatic in some women, as it was for you with the girls. But anxiety, tension, lack of sleep—any one of these can affect it. It’s a vicious circle. The more Sam cries, the harder it is for you to relax and for your milk to get through. Have you considered trying him with some formula?’
‘But breast milk’s best—everyone says so,’ Jean protested.
‘A contented mum and baby are what’s important. Anyway, giving him a bottle now doesn’t automatically mean you have to give up on breastfeeding. Perhaps after a couple of feeds and a good sleep you’ll be ready to do battle again. You could maybe give him a bottle at night and concentrate on breastfeeding in the day. There are lots of options. Even if he does end up on the bottle, you’ve given Sam your colostrum in the first few days, which is full of antibodies, and he’s had six weeks on the breast. You’ve done very well.’
‘What do you think?’ Jean turned to Clem.
‘I totally agree with Livvy.’ He stood up. ‘I’ve got some formula samples in the car. Why don’t you make him up a bottle and we’ll see how he goes?’
Half an hour later a much happier Jean cuddled her satisfied son. Young Master Sam made contented little noises.
‘Feeling better now?’ Clem enquired.
‘Much, but I’m a bit disappointed.’
‘Well, don’t be,’ Olivia said firmly. ‘Like I said, it might be a different ball game tomorrow. But whatever you do, don’t go getting stressed—just enjoy each other.’
‘Thanks ever so.’ She looked over at Olivia. ‘You’ve both been wonderful.’
‘We haven’t finished yet.’ Clem darted outside and returned with a huge casserole pot. ‘Ruby’s forever trying to fatten me up. There’s more than enough here to feed the family, Jean.’ He took Sam from her and put him gently into the crib. ‘Now, the place is tidier, the baby’s asleep and dinner’s taken care off. You get to bed.’
‘I should get some ironing done,’ Jean protested, but Olivia quickly jumped in.
‘Don’t you dare.’ She shooed her down the hall.
‘I wouldn’t argue with Sister Morrell if I were you, Jean. I’ve a feeling she’d win. Now, off to bed, Doctor’s orders. We’ll see ourselves out.’
Back in the car Clem praised her. ‘You did a great job in there.’
‘Only because I listened to you first,’ Olivia admitted. ‘I shudder to think of the mess I’d have made if you hadn’t forewarned me.’
‘I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself,’ he said kindly. ‘We’ll need to keep a close eye on Jean, make sure things are improving—she’s on a short fuse at the moment. Let me know if you’re worried about her.’ He turned and smiled. ‘It’s good having you on board, Livvy.’
As she opened her mouth to correct him he started the engine. Oh, what was the point? She might just as well get used to it.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. In each home they were made welcome. Despite Clem’s sometimes brutal honesty and arrogant assumptions, it was obvious the patients all adored him. Everywhere they went the patients insisted on making a cup of tea. As if he hadn’t had a drink all day, Clem gratefully accepted and listened as they chatted. Finally, armed with a bag of lemons and some lamingtons, they had finished the rounds.
‘For a day’s work well done, I’ll buy you dinner. It’s time for you to visit the local hotel.’
‘But we can’t. I’m in my work clothes,’ Olivia wailed. The thought of having to talk to him socially terrified her.
‘I’m not intending to get you drunk, I can assure you, but it’s nearly seven already and I’m sure you’re about as keen to cook dinner as I am.’
Driving into the main street, he parked and escorted her straight into a bistro. Gorgeous smells wafted from the kitchen and Olivia realised how hungry she really was. Again Clem was greeted like a long-lost friend.
‘G’day there. The usual, Clem? And what about the young lady?’
‘An orange juice, please.’
Clem remembered his manners and introduced her. ‘This is Olivia Morrell, the new sister at the practice.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Livvy,’ the landlord greeted her cheerfully. Casually holding her elbow, Clem led her over to a table by the window and went back to the bar to fetch their drinks. Olivia gazed out of the window at the miles of land stretched out before her. The road continued far into the horizon. It was magnificent. She wished she were here with Jeremy. It had been so long since they’d been away together or even out for a meal, just the two of them. There had always been work, or a function to attend. Perhaps if she’d insisted, or just gone ahead and booked a weekend away, maybe they could somehow have prevented the mess they were in.
‘Daydreaming?’
Olivia jumped as Clem placed their drinks on the table. ‘I was just admiring the view.’
‘Yes it’s pretty spectacular,’ he agreed. ‘As are the pies here. I took the liberty of ordering for you. They do the best steak pie I’ve ever tasted.’
‘Sounds marvellous.’
Conversation was surprisingly easy. He was very good company, with a wicked, cynical sense of humour. Olivia felt herself start to relax as he told her tales of the locals. The pie, as promised, was spectacular, the sauce rich and spicy. Mopping her plate with a second bread roll, she felt Clem staring at her.
‘What?’ she said, hastily putting down her roll.
‘Nothing. I’m just glad you’re enjoying the food,’ he remarked.
‘And why shouldn’t I be? It’s delicious.’
Clem surprised himself at how much pleasure he took in watching her unwind. For the first time since they’d met she was actually looking at him for more than ten seconds when he spoke. The constant fiddling with her earrings or hair had stopped. He decided to broach a question he had been wondering about. ‘You said last night your “ex-fiancé”. Was the break-up very recent?’ Those stunning green eyes frantically looked over to the bar as if in a silent plea for help, her hand immediately shooting up to her earrings.
‘Yes.’ Olivia replied reluctantly.
‘Were you engaged for long?’
‘We were together five years, engaged for two.’
Clem let out a low whistle. ‘Ouch,’ he said simply, and took a drink of his beer. For a second she thought the conversation was over but he wasn’t letting her off so easily.
‘He’s not exactly a fast mover. Why weren’t you married?’ he probed.
Olivia sighed, wishing he would just drop it. ‘We were happy the way we were, there wasn’t any need to rush,’ she stated, bringing out the old platitudes she had used on her friends and parents so many times in the past.
‘Rubbish,’ Clem said rudely. ‘I have a theory about couples in long engagements and so far I’ve always been right.’ He paused. ‘Do you want to hear it?’
‘Not particularly, but I’ve a feeling I’m going to.’
Clem grinned and continued. ‘One is desperate for the commitment, the other is holding out, but both pretend a long engagement is what they want. It’s the same with couples who live together—there’s always one holding back. Am I right?’
He was, of course, damn him, but she certainly wasn’t going to let him know as much.
‘Actually, no, you’re not. Jeremy’s been under a lot of pressure recently. We were waiting till he made consultant. There wasn’t time to concentrate on a wedding as well.’
‘Well, I’d have made time,’ Clem insisted. ‘I’d have snapped you up years ago.’
It was an innocent statement, made entirely in the context of the conversation, but for some reason Olivia felt herself start to blush. Clem didn’t seem to notice.
‘So what does he think about you being out here?’
‘He doesn’t know.’
‘You’re not some fugitive on the missing persons list, are you?’ The tone of his voice made her look up and she was relieved to see he was smiling.
‘He’s a bit too busy with his new girlfriend, I would think, to be looking for me.’
Clem took a long drink of his beer. ‘So one call from Jeremy and I could lose the only decent nurse this town has seen in months.’
‘I’m more responsible than that,’ Olivia retorted quickly. ‘I’m not just some puppy dog that can be summoned. I’ve accepted the job and I’m aware of my obligations.’
‘Whoa.’ He raised his hands.
‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘as I’ve only been here a day, aren’t you judging me rather hastily?’
‘On the contrary. I believe in first impressions, though I must admit I was wrong about your eating habits.’
Olivia gave him a questioning look but he didn’t elaborate.
‘Kathy always said I knew at a glance...’ He took a hasty sip of his drink and then in a soft voice he continued, ‘Kathy was my wife. She died,’ he said simply. Now it was his turn to avoid her gaze.
‘I heard. I’m so sorry. How long ago?’
‘It will be two years in a few months, but the way it feels it might just as well have been yesterday.’ He drained his glass. ‘Hold onto your heart, Livvy, because you only get hurt in the end. I sometimes wonder if the pleasure of being in love is worth the pain.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Listen to us two lonely hearts getting maudlin.’ The carefree shift in his tone did nothing to disguise the sadness hanging in the air. ‘Can I get you another drink?’
Olivia reached for her purse. ‘No, it’s my turn. I’m going to have a coffee.’ Like her, he obviously didn’t want to talk about his loss. The difference was, she was too polite to push it. ‘Can I get you one?’
Clem shook his head.
‘Another beer, then, or a cup of tea perhaps?’ she offered.
‘Olivia, sit down a moment. There’s something I must tell you,’ Clem said in a serious voice. She tentatively sat down. What on earth could it be?
‘You must promise not to tell any of the patients this. If it were to get out, so many people would be offended.’
Olivia nodded nervously. Whatever was he going to say? She’d only known him five minutes.
He leant over the table, taking her hand and drawing her nearer, looking around to make sure nobody could hear. Leaning forward, she listened intently.
‘I hate tea. Absolutely loathe the stuff, and every day I’m forced to drink gallons.’
‘What?’ Olivia looked up at him, startled. Was that it? Throwing his head back, he started to laugh, so loudly, in fact, that a few of their fellow diners turned around, smiling, to see what was so funny. Unperturbed, he carried on until finally she joined in. It had been so long since she’d truly laughed and, what’s more, she marvelled, it felt wonderful.
CHAPTER THREE
SITTING at her kitchen table, Olivia attempted to pen a reply to Jessica’s letter. A niggling sore throat which had been troubling her for a couple of days seemed to have come out in force. Pulling a face as she downed some soluble aspirin, Olivia reread Jessica’s letter. Although apparently still full on with Lydia, Jeremy was pestering Jessica to find out where Olivia had moved to. She took some solace when she read how awful he was looking—black rings under his eyes, unironed shirts, creased suits and snapping at everyone. Which was most unlike Jeremy, who saved his mood swings for the home front. At work he was calm, unruffled and totally pleasant to one and all.
Perhaps he was actually missing her, realising what a terrible mistake he’d made. What if he did get in touch? Could she take him back after all he’d put her through? Olivia knew the answer should be no, yet a part of her couldn’t let go. He had been her first real relationship, her first and only lover. The reason she had left her family and friends in England and travelled to the other side of the world. Letting go just wasn’t that easy.
She had been in Kirrijong a month now. The locals were starting to accept her. Alex had returned to have his sutures removed, bringing her a bunch of proteas and several bottles of home-made tomato sauce. Her fridge and pantry groaned with the weight of home-made wines and chutneys, nectarines and lemons. They waved as she passed in her black Jeep and had started to make appointments to see her without Clem. It felt good to be liked and wanted. Yet each night she crept into the huge wooden bed and, while hating herself for being so weak, longed to feel Jeremy’s arms around her, ached for the warmth of human touch.
It was Wednesday and she wasn’t due on duty till eleven. Normally Olivia arrived early anyway, there was always more than enough work to do, but she had allowed herself the luxury of a lie-in and the chance to catch up on some letters. She hadn’t been feeling herself at all lately. Initially Olivia had assumed it had been the pressure she was under, but now, with this niggling throat and persistent headaches, she began to suspect she was coming down with the same flu that seemed to be sweeping the rest of the town. Yelping as she noticed the clock edging past ten-thirty, Olivia dressed quickly. The morning had caught up with her.
Breezing into the surgery bang on eleven, she smiled confidently at the now mostly familiar faces.
‘Morning, Betty. Are these for me?’ Picking up a pile of patients’ files, she started to flick through them.
‘Yes. One’s for stitching—he’s out the back. And there’s an ECG that needs doing—Clem wants it done as soon as you arrive. And a word of warning—he’s not in the sunniest of moods this morning.’
Olivia raised her eyebrows. So she was finally going to see the legendary dark side of the good Dr Clemson.
‘He came in like a bear with a sore head this morning and then, to make matters worse, her ladyship arrived.’
‘Her ladyship?’ Olivia enquired, not having a clue whom Betty was talking about.
‘Oh you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting his lady friend, Charlotte, have you?’
‘His lady friend?’ Olivia recalled the first night she had arrived in Kirrijong, when Clem had failed to meet her. Funny, although she’d heard what Dougie had said, by the way Clem had spoken about Kathy she’d just assumed there was no one else. Anyway, it didn’t matter to her who he went out with, of course it didn’t, Olivia thought firmly. She was just surprised, that’s all.
‘If you can call her a lady.’ Betty lowered her voice. ‘What he sees in her I’ll never—’ She coughed suddenly and started to shuffle some papers. ‘Speak of the devil.’
Clem held open his door and Olivia felt her jaw drop for there, walking out of his office and looking completely out of place in a doctor’s surgery in the middle of the bush, was six feet in heels of absolute drop-dead gorgeous sophistication.
Dressed in an immaculate white suit, her skirt at mid-thigh revealing the longest bronze legs imaginable, Charlotte Ross sauntered over to the desk, tossing her raven black mane. There was arrogance about her, an air of superiority, that, Olivia guessed, came when you were that beautiful. She looked straight through Olivia and Betty and picked up the telephone, barking orders at Dougie who doubled as the local taxi. She shook a cigarette out of her packet. Olivia felt her temper rise. Surely she wasn’t going to light up here? Charlotte obviously had some discretion, though, and put the cigarette back in the pack.
‘Thanks, Clemmie, I’ll see you this afternoon,’ she purred in a voice quite different from the one she’d used on Dougie.
Clem nodded. ‘Fine. I’ll see you then,’ he answered. Charlotte had obviously done nothing to cheer him up, judging by the murderous expression on his face.
Catching sight of Olivia still standing there, holding the patients’ files, he turned to her. ‘So you finally managed to get here, then?’ he barked.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You’re late,’ Clem announced to the waiting room.
‘Sister’s been here a good ten minutes...’ Betty soothed.
‘She’s getting you to make excuses for her now, is she?’ he demanded of poor Betty.
Olivia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She looked around the now silent waiting room at the expectant faces. ‘If I might have a word in your office, Dr Clemson,’ she said in as steady voice as she could manage, given the circumstances.
‘I’m too busy, and so are you. You’ve already kept the patients waiting quite long enough as it is. I’ll deal with you later.’ And disappearing into his office, he left Olivia quite literally shaking with rage.
A deep, throbbing voice with the hint of a fake American accent broke the silence. ‘I’m going to wait in the lounge. Call me when my taxi arrives,’ Charlotte ordered. Tossing her hair again, she waltzed out of the surgery, though not before she’d managed to smirk at Olivia.
Fuming, Olivia got through the rest of the morning. How dare he talk to her like that, let alone in front of the patients? The atmosphere progressively worsened as the day continued, with Clem barking orders and constantly buzzing her on the intercom. ‘Do this. Fetch that. Where are the results for this patient?’ Olivia did as she was told, for the time being. The last thing she wanted was another scene in front of the patients. It was fruitless, as well as unprofessional.
‘But if he thinks he’s getting away with it he’s wrong. As soon as surgery is over I’ll let him know exactly what I think of his behaviour.’
‘You’ll just make things worse. Let it pass, he’ll settle down soon,’ Betty pleaded.
Finally the last patient had been dealt with. Olivia made herself a cup of coffee and took a half-hearted bite of an apple. Sitting at her desk, she started to write up her notes. It seemed that no matter what you did in nursing these days it produced a never-ending pile of paperwork to be completed. A shadow over her file told her Clem was standing at the desk, but she didn’t look up. She certainly wasn’t going to make an apology easy for him.
‘I would have thought you’d had plenty of time to eat this morning, judging by how late you were.’
Well, she evidently wasn’t going to get an apology. Olivia looked up from her notes. Clem’s face looked down at her, so hostile she could hardly believe the change, but she refused to be intimidated. ‘I most certainly was not late this morning. I was due to start at eleven, which I did. It’s now two forty-five and I’m working through my break.’
‘How very noble,’ he said sarcastically.
That really was the limit. So she had been warned of his black unreasonable moods. So he was up to his neck in work. So the man was a widower. If he thought she was going to scuttle into the corner and hide like Betty, he was wrong. She’d had enough of irrational mood swings from Jeremy to last her a lifetime. She certainly didn’t need it from him. ‘No, Dr Clemson, it isn’t noble, merely necessary. The files have to be written up and I have to eat. I am human after all, although judging by the way you treated me this morning I doubt you either noticed or cared.’ She watched his face darken with rage. If he’d been angry before, he was really mad now.
‘And what exactly,’ he said menacingly, sitting down opposite her, ‘is it that you don’t like about my behaviour?’
Olivia took a deep breath. Oh, well, she might as well let him have it. She obviously wasn’t going to be here for much longer. ‘I don’t like being spoken to like a naughty child, particularly in front of the patients. If you have a problem with my work, discuss it with me in your office. I also don’t like you taking your beastly temper out on me.’
‘Anything else?’ he snapped.
‘Yes, actually, there is.’ She was gaining momentum now. ‘I most definitely don’t appreciate being told I’m late for work, or you implying that I’m taking excessive breaks, when the truth is I’m working way over the hours you specified in my contract. I don’t mind working late, every night if necessary. I don’t mind coming in early. However, if I’m due to start work at eleven and I have no indication that you need me earlier, don’t get angry with me for not being here. I’m not a mind-reader.’ Her temper had bubbled to the surface.
‘Well, that’s obvious,’ he replied. ‘Because if you could read my mind you’d be ringing up the unions, claiming unfair dismissal. I hadn’t realised you were so militant, Sister.’
Olivia stood up. She’d had enough of this ridiculous conversation. ‘Are you sacking me, doctor? Because if you are just say so and I’ll be straight out of here.’
Clem got up. Despite her height, he was still a good head taller than she was. Olivia stood there, her face defiant. He wasn’t going to intimidate her.
‘That would seem to be your standard answer to any criticism or confrontation. But where are you going to run to this time? You’ve exhausted Victoria and New South Wales. Perhaps you should cross the border and see how you go in Queensland—until the next time someone pulls you up, that is. Still, there’s always the Northern Territory.’
He was poisonous. That was the utter limit. How dare he drag her personal life into this? How dared he make such unjust assumptions about her? Stunned by his contemptuous remarks, she stood there, her face white, literally shaking with rage. What on earth could she say to that? He opened his mouth to speak but Olivia found her voice.
‘Don’t.’ She put her hands up in front of her. ‘Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.’ And something in her voice told him he’d totally overstepped the mark.
‘Livvy...’
She shook her head. Whatever he was going to say, she didn’t want to hear it. There were no excuses to justify that outburst.
‘Just get on with your work. I’m going on a house call, you can page me if you need me. I don’t know how long I’ll be.’ The contempt in his voice had gone but his arrogance remained. Refusing to look at him, she stood there quite still as he haughtily left the surgery.
Only when the door had safely slammed behind him did Olivia promptly burst into tears. Clem’s dramatic exit was ruined somewhat when he had to return to retrieve his car keys. Seeing her sitting at the desk, weeping, a huge wave of guilt swept over him. To have reduced this proud, troubled woman to tears gave him no pleasure. His apology was genuine and heartfelt.
‘I’ve made you cry. I’m sorry.’
It was Olivia’s turn to be difficult. ‘Don’t give yourself the credit.’
‘I can be so pig-headed at times. I really didn’t mean it.’ He handed her a tissue from the box on the desk, which she accepted with a sniff.
‘I’m not crying about you. I’ve come up against far more arrogant doctors than you in my time.’
‘I’ll try to take that as a compliment.’
Olivia managed a faint smile.
‘If it’s not just me that’s upset you, who has?’ The gentleness in his voice touched her. He sat on the desk, putting a tender hand on her shoulder, troubled by how fragile she felt. ‘I know I’m not your favourite person after today’s episode but I’m here if you want to talk.’
Olivia felt her anger evaporate. She so badly wanted to talk, to share, and Clem did seem genuine in his interest. Perhaps a man’s opinion would offer some insight.
‘A friend wrote this morning. It would appear that the object of Jeremy’s desire still isn’t me.’ Clem didn’t respond and she continued tentatively, ‘I took some refuge in the fact that he looks awful, hoping that perhaps he’s missing me after all. But who am I kidding? It’s probably all the sex that’s exhausting him.’
He smiled down at her, not moving his arm. ‘What’s she like?’
Olivia tried to describe Lydia objectively, fighting back the image of the scarlet woman with six-inch nails and a cleavage to die for. ‘Well, I’d like to call her a bimbo, but she’s actually very clever. She’s his intern. Jeremy’s a surgical registrar,’ she explained. ‘She’s also very...’ Olivia hesitated ‘...pretty. All boobs and behind, blonde hair, baby blue eyes.
‘I never saw it coming,’ she went on. ‘Lydia’s the antithesis of what Jeremy usually likes. She’s scatty, disorganised, but apparently she made him feel “needed”.’
‘Not exactly the “burn your bra” type, then?’ Clem said dryly, and Olivia managed a shaky smile.
‘She makes me feel like a frigid spinster, yet I was the one engaged to him.’
‘You’re hardly relegated to the desperate and dateless pile yet,’ Clem reasoned. ‘You’re gorgeous.’
‘Jeremy didn’t seem to think so.’
‘Jeremy sounds like an idiot,’ he stated, but feeling her body tense under his hand he realised he was on the wrong track.
‘He’s just confused,’ Olivia said defensively.
‘Maybe, but he doesn’t have the right to hurt you like this.’
‘He’s hurting, too.’
Clem doubted this. He had met more Jeremys in his career than he cared to remember. So pumped up by the instant adoration and authority a white coat gave them, they actually felt they deserved their affairs. It didn’t matter who got hurt in the process, just as long as they got what they assumed was their right. And in this case Olivia was the victim.
Clem’s face hardened and his grip involuntarily tightened on her shoulder. For Jeremy to have reduced this strong, eloquent woman to tears and self-doubt made him churn inside. He hoped Jeremy got what he deserved. Olivia wriggled away uncomfortably. ‘I’m fine now. Thank you for listening.’ The mask was back on, her guard up.
‘Look, Olivia, I’m always here if you want to talk.’
Olivia shook her head and blew her nose loudly.
Cursing himself for his poor handling of the situation, he remained seated and tried to revive the conversation, determined to be less antagonistic. ‘Why don’t I come over tonight and we can talk properly?’
Olivia shook her head. ‘No, but thanks, anyway. I’ll be all right now.’ She picked up her pen. The conversation was over. Clem hesitated, as if about to say something. Olivia’s pen paused over the file, his hand moved to her face and, picking up a loose curl that had escaped, he smoothed it behind her ear. The seemingly innocent gesture caught her completely unawares.
‘I’m not taking no for an answer. I’ll bring dessert.’
He left the surgery, this time closing the door gently behind him. Olivia sat there, stunned. How on earth had that just happened? A few moments ago he had been the second most loathsome man to walk this earth and now she was having dinner with him. Putting her hand up to her face where he had touched her, she felt her burning cheeks, then, firmly shaking her head, she set back to work.
Finally the last of the files had been written up, and after packing her bag with various bandages, dressing packs and solutions Olivia headed into town to make her own house calls. There were only a couple of dressings that needed doing and one postnatal visit. Which should, she reasoned, leave her with plenty of time to have a long bath and prepare a nice dinner for herself and Clem.
It was a pleasant drive into town, and Olivia took her time. Approaching an old Queenslander-style home, she admired the immaculate garden with an abundance of flowers that had obviously been lovingly tended. An elderly woman on the veranda waved to her as she passed and Olivia cheerfully waved back, relishing the laid-back friendliness of this tiny slice of Australia. But the woman kept on waving and, just giving herself time to indicate, Olivia swerved the Jeep and bought it to a hasty halt. Jumping down, the hot afternoon sun’s glare made it impossible to see the woman. Holding her hand up to shield her eyes, Olivia called out.
‘Is everything all right?’
The elderly woman came into focus. Breathless from running, her lined face was full of concern. ‘I thought you were the doctor. I saw the Jeep,’ she gasped. ‘I’ve been trying to call him. It’s Harry—he’s got these chest pains. I called an ambulance, he’s really crook. Please, help.’
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