by Leah Martyn
‘I’ve just made a pot if you like green tea?’ Roz offered.
‘Sounds just the ticket,’ Declan said diplomatically, even though he would have preferred Emma’s strong brew first thing. As he poured himself a cup, he set out to be sociable. ‘Emma tells me you have a busy day ahead, Roz.’
‘Yes, and I should get going.’ Emma’s mother glanced at her watch. ‘The paintings I want to bid for are up first thing. I shouldn’t be too late home, though, darling,’ she told Emma. ‘Penny and Clive Bailleau are driving in from Munbilla and we’re meeting up for lunch. After that, I’m pretty much done.’
‘Oh, I’m glad you’re seeing friends,’ Emma said warmly. ‘Give Penny and Clive my best.’
‘I’ll do that.’ Roz rinsed her cup and placed it in the drainer. Turning, she plucked a section of paper towel and dried her hands. ‘And I thought I might pick up a treat for the children,’ she said in a confidential undertone. ‘What are they into?’
‘Oh, that’s so nice of you, Mum.’ Emma’s heart warmed.
Roz flapped a hand in dismissal. ‘They’ve had a hard time, from what you said. And I’d like to do it anyway.’
‘OK—’ Emma thought for a second. ‘Well, Lauren likes to read and she’s keen to learn to ride, although she knows practically nothing about horses. Not sure about Joel…’
‘He’s mad about soccer,’ Declan chimed in with a grin. ‘At the moment, he’s kicking a clapped-out piece of leather around the yard. I had it on my list to get him a decent soccer ball but now I’ll leave it in your capable hands, Roz.’
‘So—’ Roz Armitage held up two crossed fingers ‘—the book shop and the sports shop, right? Now, I really must be on my way.’
‘Take care on the roads.’ Emma gave her mother a quick hug.
‘And you two have a good day,’ Roz said in reply and wrinkled her nose. ‘If that’s possible.’
‘It is, Roz,’ Declan quirked his mouth and drawled, ‘even in medicine.’
Two hours later, Declan realized the rashness of that statement.
They had an emergency situation at the hospital. Students from a girls’ school in Toowoomba were being brought in with suspected food poisoning. ‘Apparently they’re here in Bendemere on a school camp,’ Moira told the doctors as they came together for a quick briefing. ‘Both our ambulances have gone out and the teachers will bring the rest in the school bus.’
‘The rest!’ Declan’s head pulled back. ‘How many are we expecting?’
‘Maybe in excess of ten?’ Moira made a small grimace. ‘They’re from the upper grades, thirteen and upwards.’
‘So at least we can expect some degree of cooperation and sensible answers,’ he commented ruefully.
‘Nursing backup might be a bit thin on the ground at the hospital,’ Emma said. ‘No doubt Rachel will call in casuals but apparently a few of the regular nurses are off with winter ills. Perhaps Libby could fill in and come with us?’
Declan nodded. ‘Good idea. And Moira, do what you have to do to reorganize our patient list, please.’
‘Anyone who is just waiting for repeats of their scripts could perhaps come back tomorrow,’ Emma added. ‘Whatever, we’ll leave things in your capable hands.’
‘Do we have any idea of the expected ETA?’ Declan asked as they pulled in to the hospital car park.
‘They won’t be long,’ Emma said. ‘Camp Kookaburra is only about ten kilometres out.’
From the back seat of the car, Libby pondered, ‘I wonder what they ate?’
Declan snorted. ‘Something dodgy for breakfast, if they’ve all gone down so quickly.’
Within minutes the ambulances arrived, followed by the school bus.
Emma could see at once that the students were quite ill, some of them pale and sweaty. They were going to take some sorting out, that was certain.
Declan grimaced. ‘Bang goes the rest of our morning surgery list.’
‘Rural doctoring,’ Emma reminded him.
‘Got it.’ Declan lifted a finger, acknowledging her point.
Talitha looked goggle-eyed at the volume of patients. ‘We’ll run out of cubicles! Where will we put them all?’
‘We’ll put some of them out on the verandah ward.’ Rachel was in full flight in charge. ‘And Tally, run and get bags or basins, please. They’re bound to be still vomiting.’
Tally ran.
‘Right, guys,’ Declan came in authoritatively, ‘Let’s get some triage going, shall we?’
‘Sorry I’m late.’ Casual nurse Irene McCosker, fiftyish, arrived slightly breathless, still adjusting the belt on her uniform trousers. ‘Jeff’s off sick so I had to shoo the customers out and close the shop,’ she explained.
Emma smiled at the older woman. ‘Thanks so much for coming in at short notice, Irene. Perhaps, where you can, would you start taking names, please? And liaise with the accompanying teachers about letting the parents know. That would be a great help.’
‘Certainly, Dr Armitage.’ Irene looked pleased to be given responsibility.
‘We should see the kids on stretchers first,’ Emma said quietly to Declan. ‘Would you like to team with Rachel? Then Libby and I can work together.’
His brow furrowed for a second. ‘If you’re sure?’
She nodded. ‘Absolutely.’ He’d said it was all about trust and so far he hadn’t let her down.
Accompanied by Rachel, Declan went into the first cubicle. Their patient looked pale and clammy. Bending over the stretcher, Declan asked, ‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’
‘Bronte Pearce.’
‘And how old are you, Bronte?’
‘Sixteen.’
‘And when did you start feeling ill?’
‘Soon after breakfast—’ The youngster rocked her head restlessly from side to side and moaned softly.
‘It’ll be all right, honey.’ Rachel smoothed the girl’s long dark fringe away from her forehead. ‘We’ll get you feeling better soon.’
‘Bronte,’ Declan came in gently, ‘I just need to feel your tummy.’ His mouth compressed as he palpated. ‘Right.’ He stepped back and drew the sheet up. ‘That’s fine. Have you had any diarrhoea?’
‘Some. Oh—help…’ Her plea came out on a moan.
Noticing her patient’s sudden pallor, Rachel reached for a basin and helped her sit up. Then, exhausted from the bout of vomiting, Bronte fell back on the pillows. She blocked a tear with the palm of her hand. ‘I feel awful,’ she sniffed. ‘And my little sister Sasha is so ill. She’s only thirteen and she started her periods just yesterday…’
‘It’s OK, sweetie. Don’t worry.’ Rachel squeezed Bronte’s hand. ‘She’ll be well looked after.’
‘Someone’s head should roll for this.’ Grim-faced, Declan scribbled instructions on the chart. ‘Put up ten milligrams of maxolon stat, please, Rachel. That should settle her tummy.’
‘Lomotil for the diarrhoea?’
Declan nodded. ‘Let’s start with two orally and cut back to one after each bowel movement.’ He frowned. ‘She’s dehydrating. I’d like her on four per cent glucose and one-fifth normal saline IV. Sips of water only. Could you take her blood sugar levels as well, please? Anything below three, I need to know. And, while you’re doing that,’ he added, replacing the chart, ‘I’ll just have a quick word with Emma.’
Declan found Emma in the next cubicle and beckoned her aside. ‘Have you treated a child by the name of Sasha Pearce yet?’
‘I’ve just sent her to the ward,’ Emma confirmed. ‘She was seriously dehydrated. She’ll need to stay on a drip for some time yet. I’m recommending we keep her overnight.’
‘How was she generally?’
‘As you’d expect—scared and miserable. Is there a problem?’ Emma queried.
‘I’ve just seen her older sister, Bronte. She was concerned.’
And so are you, Emma decided. Declan really cared about these kids and that thought warmed her through and through. ‘Tally’s taken S
asha under her wing, Declan. Trust me, she’ll be fine.’
‘OK, thanks. I’ll just relay that to Bronte.’ He hesitated. ‘Poor kid was pretty upset about her little sister’s predicament.’
‘The women’s business?’ Emma shot him a look as old as time. ‘All taken care of.’
‘Great. Thanks.’ He swished back the curtains and disappeared.
They went on assessing and treating their juvenile patients for the next couple of hours, answering questions from anxious parents as they trickled in to check on their offspring. Several of the students appeared quite poorly and had to be admitted for observation but the majority were treated and allowed to go home.
‘Did you get any joy from the Health Department?’ Emma asked later, as they made their way out of the hospital to the car park.
‘They’ve promised urgent action,’ Declan said. ‘Obviously, whatever they find will be sent for analysis. In the meantime, the camp has been cut short. Most of the kids will be home in their own beds by tonight.’
Moira had refused to overload the lists so the afternoon surgery finished in reasonable time. After his last patient had left, Declan went along to Emma’s consulting room. He knocked and poked his head in. ‘All done for the day?’
‘Mmm.’ She waved him in and swung off her chair as if her feet had wings. ‘Hi…’ She met his gaze, an almost shy smile playing over her lips. And Declan knew he’d crack wide open if he didn’t kiss her.
He held out his arms and she flew into them, wrapping herself tightly around him and turning her face up for his kiss.
‘Emma…’ A gravelly sigh dragged itself up from the depths of his chest and his mouth took hers as if he were dying of thirst.
She shifted against him, each tiny movement a subtle invitation for him to hold her more tightly, more intimately.
And he did.
Heat exploded in him and he gave a strangled groan, her soft pleas driving him closer to the edge. For a split second he considered letting his natural instincts run wild and making love with her here in her office. To be inside her, to feel her legs wrapped round him, hear the sweet sounds of her climax…
But only for a second. Suddenly, the compulsion took flight. Somehow it seemed tacky and not worthy of her—of them.
But how he ached for her.
He found just enough control to break the kiss. ‘Emma…’ He pressed his forehead to hers. ‘We have to slow down.’
‘Yes, I know…’ Her voice shook. ‘But I wish—’
‘Wish we didn’t?’ He gave a hard laugh. ‘Opportunities are a bit unworkable at the moment.’ He released her, then slid his hands down her arms to mesh her fingers with his. ‘Our time will come,’ he promised huskily.
‘I suppose…yes.’ She hung her head a little. ‘Can you at least stay for dinner?’
‘Nice thought, but no.’ He leaned forward, brushing her mouth with his lips. ‘You should have some quality time with your mother. Somehow, I think it’s what you both need.’
She smiled unwillingly. ‘Guru is your middle name now, is it?’
‘Christopher, actually.’ They looked at each other for a long moment and suddenly her eyes clouded. Declan shook his head. ‘You’re not still worrying about all that stuff regarding our respective parents, are you, Emma?’
‘Perhaps a bit.’
He frowned. ‘Why, for crying out loud? Roz was clearly very at ease when I met her.’
‘I wonder—’ Emma bit her lips together and hesitated. ‘I mean—I hope Dad didn’t deceive her. That would be too awful.’
‘Emma, Emma.’ Declan pulled her in close again, his patience clearly under strain. ‘For your own sake, you have to let this go. None of it matters now. You do see that, don’t you?’
‘Yes, you’re right. None of it matters.’ Well, one part of her believed that. The logical, clear-thinking part. But underneath there was still a tiny doubt, niggling away like a bothersome pebble in a shoe.
But clearly Declan wanted to close the page, to put the discussion to rest once and for all. Deep down, she knew it was the best option. And yet…‘You’re right,’ she said again, as if she really meant it. ‘None of it matters now.’
‘Tell me again how you and Dad met.’
The children had long gone to bed and Emma and Roz, both dressed in their nightwear, were sitting in front of the fire. ‘Darling, I’ve already told you several times, as I recall,’ Roz said mildly.
‘But not since I was about fourteen.’ Emma filled their tiny glasses with a peach-flavoured liqueur. ‘Now Dad’s gone, it would be nice to hear it again,’ Emma pleaded. ‘And from the beginning, please.’
Roz gave a resigned kind of smile. ‘We were both at Uni. I was doing fine arts. Andrew was doing medicine. I guess it was unlikely we would meet up at all, both doing very different disciplines. But there was a move on to close the crèche at the university.’
‘Why?’ Emma asked, more than a little interested.
‘Oh, someone in a high place got a bee in his bonnet that babies and young children had no business being on campus.’ Roz lifted a shoulder. ‘Independently, both Andrew and I had read the flyers that were asking for numbers to rally to protest against the decision. And we both went along.’
‘So you met waving banners.’ Emma smiled, her chin parked on her upturned hand.
‘Something like that.’ Roz took a sip of her liqueur. ‘As I remember, we were pretty outraged. We linked up and formed a committee and in time the idea to close the crèche was vetoed. In those days, most of the students who used the crèche were single mums. They really needed the facility.’
‘So, you and Dad must have had very strong feelings about child welfare,’ Emma pressed.
‘We did.’ Roz nodded her ash-blonde head. ‘In fact, when the director at the crèche called for volunteers occasionally, we both went and helped out with the little ones. We both loved kids,’ she added quietly.
‘And yet you only had me.’
Roz responded to the question in her daughter’s eyes with a tiny shrug of her shoulders. ‘I didn’t enjoy being pregnant,’ she confessed. ‘Andrew understood. But we delighted in you when you were born, Emma. So much.’ She frowned a bit. ‘You never felt…unloved, did you?’
‘No, of course not.’ Even as she said the words Emma felt the painful lurch in her heart. But, knowing what she did now, had that been the reason her father had drifted towards Anne O’Malley? A young widow with her little brood? He must have felt so needed. Would it be going too far to say even fulfilled? She swallowed deeply. ‘Were you and Dad always happy together?’
‘Yes, we were.’ There was no hesitation in Roz’s reply. ‘It wasn’t easy being married to a doctor, Emma. It took me a long time to realize the demands of Andrew’s job. His patients always came first. I thought he was busy enough when he was at the Prince Alfred, but then, when he was offered tenure at John Bosco’s, he got even busier. He was always very involved with his interns.’ Roz gave a faintly wry smile. ‘I guess in a way they became like his own kids.’
They were quiet for a while and then Emma said carefully, ‘I sometimes wondered why you went off to Melbourne to open your gallery and left Dad here.’
‘Yes…I suppose you did.’ Roz sighed, slightly daunted by the need for explanation. ‘Your dad thoroughly approved, you know, Emma. In fact, he suggested it. I’d put my own career on hold when we came here to Kingsholme. But I knew how much it meant to your father.’
‘You never really settled here, though, did you?’
Roz laughed shortly. ‘And I thought I hid it so well. It was different, that’s all. I made a life, formed a few good friendships. I was managing. But suddenly, out of the blue, Andrew suggested the gallery idea. You’d returned to the practice. Dad was quite sure you’d found your niche in rural medicine. And he was so proud to have you as his practice partner.’
‘Yes, he told me that.’ Emma looked down at her hands. ‘But he missed you, Mum.’
&n
bsp; ‘We missed one another,’ Roz said patiently. ‘But all along he’d planned to join me in Melbourne as soon as he’d found someone to replace him at Kingsholme. Someone he was sure would work well with you. Someone he could trust. He wanted to have it all lined up before he told you. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out quite like that…’
‘No…’ Tears blurred Emma’s vision and she reached for her mother’s hand.
They stayed like that for some minutes more, both with a new sense of calm and acceptance. ‘We should have talked like this a long time ago,’ Emma said.
‘My fault.’ Roz looked a little sad. ‘I had to grieve for Andrew on my own. He meant the world to me…’
Emma searched her mother’s face. ‘We should have grieved together.’
‘Yes, I see that now. I do love you, darling.’
The reassurance flooded into Emma like warm sunshine parting a cloudy sky. ‘I love you too, Mum.’
‘Mum’s under the impression Dad was still looking for a suitable practice partner for me when he died,’ Emma told Declan the next day. They were sitting over a cuppa after surgery had finished.
‘Maybe that’s for the best,’ Declan said. ‘But we know Andrew tried his best to make sure both your and Roz’s futures were assured when he was out of the picture.’
Emma gave a tiny shrug. ‘Yes.’
Declan’s jaw worked for a minute. ‘If only I’d been able to fly out at the time Andrew first called me, instead of being banged up in a hospital rehab unit—’
‘But you did come, Declan. You came as soon as you could. And Dad’s wishes were fulfilled.’
‘Did Roz get home all right?’ he asked, changing the tenor of the conversation subtly.
‘Yes. She rang about an hour ago. And you were right.’ Emma felt a mix of emotions tumble around inside her. ‘Mum and I did need to talk.’ She stopped and bit down on her bottom lip. ‘I think I’ve matched up all the pieces now.’ And, if there was one small piece that still refused to go exactly where she wanted it to, well, so be it.