“Oh…how lovely,” Kate said, with tears forming in the corner of her eyes.
“Yes…I couldn’t believe my ears. He said keep it simple, only basic to begin with…and I did. I drew out the main classroom first, added a small office for myself and a cloakroom-come-toilet. They were separated with a square lobby and that was it; they started straightaway and within the week I had my school.”
“Just stockmen built this?” Kate said. “No architect or skilled builders.”
“Good heavens no. You don’t have those luxuries out here. Everyone learns how to do everything for themselves, otherwise you wouldn’t survive.”
There was a knock on Miss Gerry’s door. It was open and Kate could see the young Aboriginal assistant standing outside.
“Yes, Penelope,” Miss Gerry called out.
“You told me to remind you when lunchtime came, Miss Gerry.”
“Oh yes, dear, thank you. I’ll be along shortly.”
Kate glanced at her watch. It was twelve o’clock. “Is it that time already?”
“Yes, I have to see to the children that don’t go home for lunch. They live in the camp. It’s a long walk just for lunch, so I provide some sandwiches here.”
Kate stood up and shook Miss Gerry’s hand. Holding onto it for a moment she looked grateful for this meeting. “You don’t know how much I’ve enjoyed our talk. Now I meant what I said about Willy and the school. How can I keep in touch with you; particularly for all the information I need?”
“Letters are too spasmodic out here. Your best bet is the radio. When you see Marge, talk to her about it. She’ll know what to do. She’ll set you up with a radio call sign and all the paraphernalia to do with specific times.”
“Fine,” Kate said, satisfied with that. “And if I have time tomorrow morning before I leave for Broome, I’ll try and pop in and see you.”
“That sounds good, Kate; I’ll look forward to that. She stood up and walked with Kate to the front door and they stood for a moment embracing each other. “Now you get off to your husband and have some lunch, and don’t worry, we’ll find a way to sort something out for Willy.”
CHAPTER 21
Kate had forgotten all about Jeff when she walked out of the school onto the dusty playground. There were a few children outside by now and she smiled at them. They seemed curious about the white woman visiting their Miss Gerry and gathered around as she walked towards the main street.
She looked for Jeff, thinking he might be waiting for her. He was not about. Not even down the boardwalk by his Land Rover. A small Aboriginal girl took hold of Kate’s hand. It surprised her and she looked down into her big brown eyes.
“You looking for Mr Jeff?” she asked.
“Yes, I am,” Kate replied.
“He’s in the big shed over there,” she said, letting go of Kate’s hand.
“Thank you. If you see him will you tell him I’m in the clinic?”
A big smile broke out across the little girl’s face. “I’ll tell him white lady,” she said, and ran off across the playground to her friends.
As Kate slowly walked down the boardwalk towards the clinic she suddenly realised her day had been completely turned inside-out. She had planned her meeting with Martin in such detail that when it had finally taken place it had been totally different. She expected him to react as he usually did, but he didn’t; he was a stranger.
Now she was faced with the same struggle; trying to get him to remember her without venturing into the ordeal he had just encountered. It was a catch-twenty-two situation; whichever way she approached him, she was sure to confront his nemesis: what happened to Joe? And why was he so silent?
As soon as Kate opened the door to the clinic she noticed Dr Fitzpatrick’s door was open and was confronted by the sombre stares of two hot-looking individuals. Despite a small, old-fashioned-looking air-conditioner, the small room was an oven; probably why the door was open.
Chris Isles was sitting next to the doctor going through the report he had prepared for AMINCO and Kate’s presence appeared to have something to do with that. They looked up at her with anticipation.
“Ah Kate, we were just talking about you,” the doctor said, standing up politely. “Come in. Take a seat for a moment.”
Chris half left his seat, then sat down again. He had a pen in his hand and he had an open folder in front of him.
“It seems I returned just in time,” Kate said sitting down. “Why was I part of your discussion?”
“Nothing dramatic, Kate,” Chris answered. “We have almost finished the details for the hospital in Broome, a copy of which will go to AMINCO for their insurance people to look through. We were just wondering if you could show any light on Martin’s mental state. Anything that might give the hospital an insight into his present condition; it’s quite strange.”
Kate was not surprised. It was the first thing that had crossed her mind when she’d heard of Martin’s dilemma. Its similarity had prompted her to confide in the doctor.
“As a matter of fact I was going to mention Martin’s car crash three years ago; although I would have thought that information would be in his AMINCO file.”
“I’m sure it will be,” Chris commented, turning over to a fresh page and scribbling a new heading at the top. “I wouldn’t know, of course. My job is simply to take down the facts of the incident; I have no details of his medical history. However, I’ll jot down some details if you don’t mind and pass them over to the hospital so that they can treat him as soon as possible.” He looked up at Kate with his pen in hand, ready to take notes.
Kate had no idea where to start. He obviously had no intention of getting involved with the traumatic events that had led to Martin’s long recovery. All the relevant information was in the hospital files and Chris had asked her to keep it simple.
“As I said, Martin was involved in a car accident. It left him with serious leg and head injuries, as well as the usual minor abrasions. Because of his head injury he was in a coma for two weeks and following that he was disoriented for a further month. All this is on file at the hospital. A Dr Felix Grossman in Psychiatry took over the case once he left the surgical ward. I suggest he is the best person to contact. He is familiar with Martin’s history.”
Chris was frantically making notes, drawing particular attention to the doctor’s name with a circle around it.
“This disorientation you mentioned, was it similar to Martin’s present condition?” Dr Fitzpatrick asked.
“Medically I have no idea; that’s why I mentioned Dr Grossman to you. From a personal perspective…I think so. The obsession is different, but the inclination is exactly the same.”
“In what way?” Chris asked. “I need to get my facts right.”
“I’m no psychiatrist, Chris. Like the other event, he seems preoccupied with the past, but for different reasons.”
Chris looked down and started writing again.
The sombre expression left the doctor’s face and was replaced with a gentle smile. He looked like a man who had suddenly been relieved of a burden. It was a satisfied look and he turned to Chris, who was still busily writing.
“I think this Dr Grossman is the one you should turn your attention to when you get back to Broome… don’t you?”
Chris finished with a look of accomplishment and nodded as he closed his folder. “I agree,” he replied, looking up. “I’m only a messenger here. My main task is to see that Martin gets the best attention straightaway. In fact I shall go now and put in a call to Philip. Fill him in with this information and see if he can contact everyone concerned and have them waiting for Martin’s arrival tomorrow.”
Chris jumped up from his seat, grabbed his folder and left without waiting for a comment from either the doctor or Kate. They could see he was too preoccupied with what he was going to say to Philip.
The doctor looked across to Kate and shook his head. He picked up the conversation. “I don’t know… these youngsters. They’re a
lways so full of energy. I remember when I was like that; there was never enough time in the day to do all the things I wanted to do.”
“I know what you mean, Doctor,” Kate sympathised, hoping she could get back to Martin. She seemed to be constantly distracted.
Then the young nurse entered the hall outside, as if she had been listening at the door. The doctor looked up across Kate’s shoulder and his persona changed.
“Yes, Nurse…was there something?”
“It’s past lunchtime, Doctor. I was just wondering if Mrs Dexter would like to have sandwiches with her husband?”
His eyes darted back to Kate. “I’m sorry,” he said, glancing at his watch. “You must be starving. How long is it since you had anything to eat?”
Kate had to reflect on his question. What with all the commotion and different people she’d met this morning, she had forgotten about food. She realised it must have been hours; not since her breakfast of toast and cereal.
“Not since my breakfast.”
“The nurse will soon put that right,” he said.
“Mr Dexter isn’t on a full meal yet,” the nurse commented. “He seems perfectly happy with a sandwich. In fact, he loves our beef sandwiches. Of course I could arrange for you to have a meal if you’d like that.”
“No, Mini…er, Nurse, sandwiches will do fine,” Kate replied.
“I’ll get the cook to make up an assortment.”
Kate nodded with a smile. She had felt uncomfortable about introducing a personal note into their relationship.
“My usual, Nurse,” the doctor said sharply.
There was something strange about the doctor’s attitude towards the Aboriginal nurse; yet here he was managing a clinic that mainly served the needs of Aborigines. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was not a racial prejudice, but simply a case of the need for senior recognition.
“Have you been on the station for long?” she asked him, bringing his scowl back to a pleasant smile.
“I was thinking about that the other day, in fact. I don’t know why, but I woke up to a raging sandstorm. Probably the same one Martin was talking about; I lose track of time these days. Anyway, I finally figured out it had been twelve years. Can you imagine suddenly realising you had lost track of twelve years?”
Kate gathered that he was probably a tactless person. “You’re not unique in that, Doctor. I have to remind myself how long I’ve been in Australia quite often.”
“Chris told me you were an important civil servant in Education.”
“Important was not the right word; more like a dictator.”
“Dictator… Oh, that can’t be right,” he responded.
“Not as in a tyrant, of course,” she corrected. “It’s the humorous nickname they gave me. I’m the person that formulates the management procedures for the Education Department; the person who’s often blamed for all the politically correct clauses in the working manuals for each department.”
“Oh dear,” the doctor exclaimed with a snigger. We had one of those on the Medical Board, although I never met him or her.”
Dr Fitzpatrick had cleverly steered Kate away from her questioning of him and she turned the conversation back to his life on the cattle station. “So…did you come out here as a vocational thing like Miss Gerry?”
“Hardly,” he said, with that short tone again in his voice. “She is a true saint, whereas my motives are a lot less vocational as you say. I’m afraid I’m one of those fallen icons. You know, the ones with feet of clay.”
“And that’s it…you’re not about to tell me.”
“Oh no… To the contrary, everyone knows about my shady past. It’s stamped across my medical certificate. It’s like being bankrupt. I can only be employed under certain conditions; which meant I drifted from one medical practice to another, slowly getting more menial posts until I finally gave up and applied for this job. You might say I decided to opt out of the civilised world for the isolation of the Sandy Desert.”
Eureka…Kate had discovered his Achilles Heel. “And what was so terrible?”
“I was an alcoholic. Fortunately I wasn’t a surgeon or anything as vital as that; I streamed my career towards a consultancy in Biochemistry. I did very well. Too well in fact…it went to my head and I started to drink. It was the old story; I couldn’t handle the stress. Then the Board of Ethics decided I could not be trusted to work on dangerous drugs. I was still able to practise general medicine.”
“And here you are; out of harm’s way.”
“I wouldn’t quite put it that way, but yes, I suppose you’re right.”
Kate felt sorry for the man. Instead of fighting to beat his habit and get his position back, he simply had taken the easy way out. “It sounds like that to me. You can drink as much as you like out here. I mean, you’re only working on Aborigines; who’s going to oversee you out here?”
Dr Fitzpatrick expression changed to one of solemn acceptance, yet there was still a spark of defiance in his eyes. “The Palmers are my judge and jury out here. They are the supreme overseers and won’t tolerate any deviation from the path they have chosen to run this cattle station. And for your information I haven’t had a drink for ten years. Jeff Palmer saw to that when he found I had one drink two years into my contract. He came straight to the point; he said he only gave people one chance and I had just used that up. So…for the last ten years I have lived on a knife edge, but it’s one I wish I’d had back in Perth.”
Kate felt she had misjudged the doctor. She had been the judge and jury before she had heard all the facts. She was still against his manner of taking his past out on others, but now she understood.
“I didn’t really mean everything I said,” Kate responded. “I just wanted to find out what was responsible for your mean streak.”
“Mean streak,” he let out. “I’ve treated you with the utmost courtesy.”
“You have; and in my opinion you’ve looked after my husband in a most professional way. It’s your manner with your staff that offends me.”
He could see Kate was not a woman that minced her words or one you would bandy words with. In fact he thought ‘The Dictator’ was an admirable nickname.
Before he got a chance to defend his attitude, the nurse returned with a large tray covered with a red-chequered tablecloth.
“I hope everyone’s hungry,” she said, noticing the tense atmosphere.
After she placed a plate covered with a napkin in front of the doctor and he reciprocated with a forced smile, she ushered Kate out of his room and into the ward. She placed the tray on her desk, lifted the cover and took sandwiches over to the three Aborigines who were banging on the side of their beds. She put them straight with a few well-chosen Aboriginal words and returned to Kate.
“What did you say to them?” Kate asked, peeping under the cloth.
“You don’t want to know,” she said, picking up the tray and heading down the aisle towards Martin’s bed.
Kate followed and sat down beside him. He opened his eyes immediately and looked at Kate. “I told you I wouldn’t be long,” she said, brushing a piece of hair away from his brow. “Now let’s ease you up and you can have your lunch.”
The nurse placed the tray on the small table running across the bed on trolley wheels and moved it towards his chest. By now he was sitting up and staring at Kate.
“Have you been away?” he said.
“Never mind that,” the nurse said. “I’ve got your favourite sandwiches.”
She pulled back the cloth and pointed to the beef sandwich specially prepared for Martin. All the sandwiches were made out of outback style bread. It was coarse-grained dough with a heavy crust, but on Martin’s the crust had been removed. Kate studied the different sandwiches.
“His digestion can’t handle anything heavy yet,” she pointed out to Kate, but he loves the beef. He won’t eat anything else. I think that’s because Willy fed him nothing else in the desert. First with the jerky he carries in his pouch and when
that ran out, he cooked small critters and even a snake,” she laughed. “The same one that almost killed Martin.”
She realised she had told Kate something she hadn’t known when Kate’s eyes moistened.
“Heavens,” Kate cried out. “How many times did my husband come near to death? The plane crash, running out of water and now a snake.”
“Oh no, Kate,” the nurse interrupted, realising that Kate needed to be told more about Martin’s ordeal, “You forgot the sandstorm, the willy-willy, the sting from an unknown insect and Willy’s silly blood poisoning. The doctor spent all night working on Martin. We lost him twice, but he punched his chest and got his heart going again. If you ask me, Martin wasn’t meant to die; someone was watching out for him.”
Kate was flabbergasted and suddenly felt guilty about the way she’d treated that poor man. Then she remembered Martin. He was looking hungry and she offered him his sandwich. The nurse was right; he attacked it with gusto. She then turned her attention to the tray. Despite what the nurse had given already to the three Aborigines and now Martin, there were still piles of sandwiches. Kate noticed they were arranged in neat rows, if rough-looking sandwiches could be neat.
The nurse stepped forward and pointed as she described what the cook had prepared. “These are beef and pickle, those are tomato and lettuce and the ones at the end are cheese and tomato; that’s if you like goat’s cheese.”
“They all look lovely, Mini. I’m sorry I started calling you Nurse in front of the doctor, but I got the impression that he didn’t like me calling you Mini.”
“That’s all right, Kate. It’s our fault really. He thinks the clinic should be run strictly…and I agree. The patients, and I must admit, us assistants, tend to treat life a bit more relaxed. So it’s hard for us…with our background.”
Martin finished the first sandwich and Kate gave him the next. He reached for his water and she helped him with it. “I think you might find the doctor a bit less rigid from now on,” Kate remarked.
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