Fever Cure

by Phillipa Ashley

  He inhaled the smell. Hmm. School dinners and floor polish with undertones of canteen chips and lemon disinfectant. It was slightly more appealing than the aroma that had pervaded his public school but still familiar enough to bring back memories, not all of them happy ones. The excited shrieks from some of the classrooms were definitely not reminiscent of his own school. Behaviour like that would have been punished by lines and detention, and in his case on several occasions, something rather more painful.

  “It couldn’t be helped, I’m afraid,” he replied evenly. “And why are we whispering?”

  “I don’t know!” said Keira, exasperated and, though she hated to admit it to herself, very nervous. She stopped to look at him and instantly regretted it. Tom Carew looked even more gorgeous in his doctor’s “outfit” than his best man’s, she had to acknowledge. It was a mild October day, and he wore no jacket, just a crisp white shirt and dark silk tie.

  The rush had brought a glow to his cheeks, though he still had the faint shadows beneath his eyes; even with the fading tan, he looked tired. Keira wondered what kept him awake at nights.

  They passed the nursery class with its bright, splodgy paintings, lovingly displayed. “It’s rather warm in here,” said Tom, loosening his tie.

  Too right, she thought, feeling the sheen of perspiration on her back.

  “It’s either freezing or baking,” she said blithely. “Come the first of October, the heating goes on whether it’s twenty degrees or minus two. It’s all centrally controlled by the education authority, you see.”

  “I know the feeling. No control over the heating in my last job, either.”

  She shot him a sharp look as he put down his medical bag and began to unbutton his cuffs.

  “I hope you don’t mind, I had to bring the kit. It’s not a good idea to leave it in the car, and besides, the children might be interested in one or two things.”

  “Fine.” Except not fine. An annoying tingle had set in as he started rolling up a sleeve to reveal a tanned, strong arm.

  “Follow me,” she ordered, leading the way to her classroom. She wished her heels wouldn’t click like that. She was already feeling self-conscious, and the noise was just so embarrassing.

  Stopping outside the classroom door, she risked a glance behind. He was still there and still edible. “Have you any last requests before I throw you to the lion cubs?”

  “How do you want me to approach this? Are there any no-go areas?”

  She considered for a moment. “I don’t think so. You’re a doctor. I trust you not to make inappropriate remarks. By the way, if I introduce you as plain Dr. Carew, will that be okay? I’m not sure class 5S will understand the Honourable bit.”

  He smiled. “Just plain Tom will suffice.”

  She shook her head. “Much too informal. What about Dr. Tom?”

  “If you say so, Ms. Grayson.”

  “Very well. In you go.” My, how confident she sounded…but the truth was, she didn’t know how the kids would react to Tom. He certainly didn’t sound like any of them. In fact, she wondered if some of the more timid pupils would be a bit afraid of him.

  The door creaked open, and twenty expectant faces all turned towards him at once.

  “Children, here’s our visitor: Dr. Tom.”

  “Hello, Dr. Tom,” they chorused dutifully, and she thanked her lucky stars for her classroom skills and insistence on manners.

  “Dr. Tom works at the health centre,” she explained. “But before that, he worked in a village in Papua New Guinea. We looked at it on the Internet last week. Now, can anyone show me where it was on the big map?”

  Almost twenty hands shot up in unison, and Keira risked a look at Tom. He was sitting on the too-small chair she had placed in front of the children, long legs stretched out in front of him.

  He didn’t look scared. He looked at ease—happy, even.

  “What’s that, Dr. Tom?” Ben Chalmers, the boldest boy in her class, was pointing at Tom’s arm. Keira looked from her pupil’s grubby forefinger to Tom and almost gasped.

  “It’s a tattoo.”

  A tattoo? On Tom? He couldn’t be serious. And if he was, what the heck could it possibly say? Queen and country? Lie back and think of England?

  “Don’t point, Ben, it’s rude,” she murmured.

  “It’s fine, Ms. Grayson. Actually, tattooing is an important part of life in many parts of Melanesia. It certainly was in the village where I worked, and most of the doctors get one eventually. It’s only fair that the children should know about it.”

  “Can we have a look?”

  “Ohhhh, please. Please, Dr. Tom!”

  “Let me see it!”

  The voices had grown to a deafening chorus in the classroom. Keira groaned inwardly. Most of the boys were on their feet now, and a few of the bolder girls, all trying to take a closer look at the strange dark markings.

  She stepped closer on the pretext of marshaling her brood into some kind of order. Oh Lord… He didn’t do things by halves… That truly was a tattoo. Not a tiny bird or a discreet logo, but a full-blooded tribal affair. The dark pattern swirled down his right arm from elbow to wrist.

  It was in-your-face scary and mysterious…and disgustingly macho. Her breasts prickled as she stared alongside the pupils. Posh Tom had a tattoo to rival any rap star’s, and what’s more, it was turning her on.

  She needed therapy.

  “Now please, shhh, give Dr. Tom a chance!” she cried. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to show you his…tattoo. He’s come here to talk about his work.”

  But Tom rolled his sleeve up farther to give the children a better look. Keira sighed. He’d got their attention, she’d give him that. She just hoped the head teacher didn’t come in.

  The kids were hyper now. “Where did you get it—in the jungle?” piped up Josh Bayley.

  “In a village in the rainforest. It’s a tribal tattoo.”

  “Like a battle tattoo!” squealed Ben as Keira cringed.

  Tom laughed out loud. And how it suited him, she thought, her heart zinging.

  “In a way, yes.”

  Ben was transfixed. “So did you have to fight someone to get it?” he whispered.

  Fighting? Keira hoped not and was about to silence any more questions when Tom answered cheerfully. “No. The village elders—the local leaders—asked me if I wanted this before I left. It was a great honour.”

  “Did it hurt?” Keira had to stop herself from staring at the little girl touching Tom’s wrist with hesitant fingers. The child hardly ever spoke, and to hear her asking a stranger like Tom a question was, frankly, amazing, but she thought the conversation was heading in a dangerous direction.

  “Aalia,” murmured Keira, “I don’t think…”

  “A bit,” said Tom, ignoring Keira and doing his bone-melting thing on the little girl. “A lot, actually.”

  “Did you cry?” she asked. “Only my big sister had a butterfly done on her leg, and she cried. So did my mum, when she got home.”

  Keira held her breath as Tom considered his answer. “No…but I felt like it once or twice.”

  That was it. Keira finally decided the tattoo had received far too much attention from her pupils and from her. The heating in the classroom had got even fiercer. She wanted to take off her jacket, but that would have been giving herself away.

  “Right!” she called. “That’s enough for now, children. If you’ve all seen…it, let’s ask some other questions.” She narrowed her eyes at Tom, who was gazing back innocently. “What about the animals in Papua?”

  “Yes! Did you see any giant spiders?” shouted Josh.

  Tom grinned. “Absolutely. Dozens, in fact, and all as big as dinner plates. When it rains, all the bugs and insects race into the huts.”

  “Urghhh!”

  The delighted shrieks said everything, and Keira wanted to hug herself in delight as Tom opened up to the children. Tom’s hour visit seemed to fly by as she sat on a stool and listened to
him telling his stories. The kids were giggling one minute and spellbound the next, especially when he got out the photographs he’d brought. They showed him with kids from the village holding his hand, groups of them clustered round him at clinics.

  Well, he wasn’t quite as inept with them as he’d tried to make out. She smiled to herself. He certainly knew how to get their attention.

  “Are there pirates in Papua?” said Josh. “And treasure like in Pirates of the Caribbean? I’d like to be pirate when I grow up.” Josh again, thought Keira; he was taking over, and it was nearly time for the bell. She had to put a stop to this.

  A girl with a ponytail laughed out loud. “Don’t be stupid. You can’t be a pirate, Josh Bayley. They’d put you in jail.”

  “I’d like to be a doctor,” murmured one small boy.

  One of the girls let out a giggle. “Don’t be silly, Roshan. You’re not clever enough to be a doctor.”

  Keira opened her mouth to protest, but Tom got there first.

  “You can be anything you want to be if you try.”

  “But you’re posh and rich.”

  “Roshan! That’s rude.” Keira thought this had gone far enough.

  “It’s okay, Ms. Grayson,” said Tom calmly. “I suppose I am posh.” He smiled at the faces staring back at him. “But some of the best doctors I know are not what you’d call posh. They speak like you and look like you. The only thing you need is to really care about people and work very hard at your science. Do what Keira—Ms. Grayson—says. I know I would if she was my teacher.”

  Two little girls, more precocious than the rest, burst into giggles.

  “Thank Dr. Tom for coming,” Keira cut in, blushing. “He has to get back to work at the health centre. I’m sure he has lots of patients waiting for him.” She suddenly pictured herself sitting at the local health centre, leafing through a dog-eared copy of People’s Friend, waiting to be called in to Tom’s consulting room. He cast a quizzical glance in her direction as her face grew hot, and she quickly turned her attention back to the children.

  “Say good-bye to Dr. Tom,” she called.

  “Thank you, Dr. Tom,” they replied sing-song fashion, and mercifully, the bell rang for the end of school.

  “Calm down now!” she called above the scramble for chairs and bags, as much for her own benefit as her students’.

  Tom waited quietly as the tide of excited children flowed round him and out of the door. Remarkably quickly, there was silence in the empty classroom.

  “That last remark was verging on the inappropriate,” she scolded as the footsteps retreated down the corridor.

  He was all innocence as he stood. “I was merely commenting on your teaching skills.”

  “Well, thank you for entertaining the kids. Shame you had to show them that—that thing.”

  “By that thing, I presume you mean the tattoo. You’re lucky, Keira. At least I didn’t mention the other one.”

  “What? You mean you have more on your other arm?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, rolling down his sleeves. “But not by choice. Apparently, I enjoyed this one so much, they decided to reward me with a second. But I didn’t think I should mention it to your class.”

  “I can’t think why,” she said primly. “You weren’t shy about showing them this one.”

  He was buttoning his cuffs now. “Ah, but it’s not on my arm, and believe me, it would definitely not be appropriate.”

  She gulped, her mind working overtime. What did he mean…no… He couldn’t possibly have it there…?

  “Did the other one hurt too?” she squeaked as warmth spread through her limbs. It couldn’t be possible that he’d had that part of him inked. No, it would have been excruciating, and he certainly wouldn’t mention it in front of the children.

  A tiny smile creased his mouth. “Let’s just say it made my eyes water.”

  She gave him a hard stare and saw that his eyes were sparkling above the innocent expression.

  “You’ve just made that up, haven’t you?”

  His eyes gleamed. “You’ll just have to trust me, Keira.”

  Feeling her face heating nicely again, she snatched a pile of workbooks from the desk and held them to her. “Well, I’ve got to tidy up the class before I can go home. But thank you for coming. The children did enjoy hearing about your…experiences. I do appreciate it.”

  How prim that sounded. But underneath, she felt wicked and wanton and, yes, scared by the feelings Tom was arousing in her. He had been marvelous with the kids, even she had to admit that. He had held their interest and explained things to them without patronising them.

  “What about our agreement?” he asked as she began to place the exercise books in a wobbly pile on the table. “We had a bargain.”

  “Did we?” she muttered, crossing the room to pick up a stray book from the floor.

  “You know very well we did. I’ve kept my part of the bargain, and now it’s your turn. I’ll pick you up on Saturday at seven thirty.”

  She bent down to retrieve the book.

  Tom was trying hard not to look at the view, but it was impossible. The fabric of her plain grey trouser suit was stretched taut across the curve of her lovely derriere. His body responded instantly and painfully. As she straightened and turned round, her breasts jiggled gently underneath her sweater.

  Oh hell. She was aroused; she must be. It wasn’t cold in here, and her nipples were jutting against the soft wool. He tried to douse the fire she was stoking in his loins. Surely he could get into trouble for thinking that kind of thing in a school. Maybe it was illegal.

  “Oh.”

  “Oh what?” he echoed, forcing himself to focus on her eyes, the same soft blue as her sweater.

  “You dropped one of your photographs.”

  Keira was holding a sun-faded print in her hand, examining it. It showed Tom, but a Tom so different she hardly recognised him. He looked younger, more relaxed than she had ever seen him. He was with an older man outside a hut, and they both had their arms around a pretty blond girl, about the same age as herself. They all wore shorts and T-shirts and were pulling silly faces at the camera.

  “Looks like it wasn’t all work in the jungle,” she said, handing the picture back to him with a smile. As he took it, her eyes were drawn to the tiny scars on his hands again. When she saw his expression, cold fingers skittered down her spine. There was no pleasure at picturing happy memories. A frown was etched on his forehead, and his eyes were clouded with pain.

  The picture trembled slightly in her hand. “Tom, are you okay?”

  “Fine, thanks.” He snatched it from her hand, opened his bag and dropped the print inside. “I have to go.”

  She hadn’t been meant to see that picture. Maybe he hadn’t even meant to bring it. But it looked innocent enough, just three friends enjoying themselves in a strange place. She wanted to ask who they were.

  His doctor’s bag shut with a click, and when he faced her again, he was the old Tom, smiling and back in control.

  “Good-bye, then,” she said. “And thank you for visiting us.”

  He frowned again, but this time she knew he was teasing her. “What are you talking about, Keira?”

  She jumped. He was doing that thing again—the mind X-ray.

  “I was just saying thanks for your help. What’s wrong with that?”

  He rubbed his ear theatrically. “Hmm. Must remember to give myself a hearing check. Did I hear the brush-off there?”

  Spotting a stray pencil by her desk, she bent to pick it up and hoped the glow in her cheeks would disappear. “I don’t know what you mean. Really.”

  The pencil was safe, and Tom was still in the middle of the classroom and still dripping sensuality from the top of his dark head to the tips of his toes. He didn’t need a stethoscope to hear her heart going into overdrive.

  He checked his watch briefly, then said. “Right. Saturday. Seven thirty. Your flat. I’ll drive.”

  “Now, just ha
ng on a moment! I might be doing something!”

  He just smiled, grabbed his bag and made his way to the door.

  “Besides, how do you know where I live?” she called as he walked out into the corridor.

  “I asked Carrie.”

  “And she told you?”

  “Of course. She trusts me.”

  “But I might not. You’ve got a nerve, Tom Carew. Just who do you think you are?”

  “A presumptuous git,” he shot back. “With a table booked for two at one of the best Italian restaurants in London.”

  Chapter Four

  “Then Tom Carew just swanned off out of the classroom, just like that—the arrogant, cheeky bugger!”

  “Keira. Keep your voice down. Mothers present,” hissed Su as they waited for the coffee to brew in the kitchen. The girls’ respective mothers were sharing chai and wedding stories in the living room at Su’s house. There was no way Keira wanted her mum or Mrs. Sharma to know about Tom, otherwise her mum would have the cake ordered and be wording an announcement for the local newspaper.

  Angie Grayson had had enough to contend with already. She’d been beside herself with worry when Keira’s relationship with Alex ended so disturbingly. She’d also been battling breast cancer for the past year, and while she was on the road to recovery now, Keira didn’t want her getting all excited about Tom only to be disappointed for her daughter when he went back to Papua.

  Su lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You have to tell me more, Keira. What’s he really like? You too were pretty close during the dancing. You couldn’t get a playing card between you on that dance floor. Everyone was talking about it afterwards. Tom Carew is a huge catch. Matt and Carrie said absolutely everyone was after him when they were at university, guys as well as girls.”

  “He’s not gay!” cried Keira.