‘You were hugging the centre of the road,’ he said, folding his arms across the expanse of his broad chest.
‘I was not!’
‘And you were well below the speed limit. You’ll get yourself driven over if you do that out here.’
‘Like you did to me?’ She angled her head at him accusingly, trying not to notice how very attractive his eyes were. They were predominantly blue but had a greenish tinge closer to the pupil which reminded her of the ocean. She was sorely tempted to flick her gaze to the blue-green water of the bay and back for a quick comparison, but somehow resisted the impulse.
‘I didn’t drive over you,’ he said. ‘I took the first safe available opportunity to pass you.’
‘You were on my tail for miles!’ she retorted hotly. ‘You almost drove me off the road. I should report you for dangerous driving. You could have caused an accident.’
‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘I know my way around cars.’
Holly gave his rusty vehicle an ironic glance. ‘You call that a car?’
He followed the line of her gaze and she heard him sigh as he addressed his car. ‘Did you hear that, Bluey?’ He stroked the crinkled and mottled bonnet affectionately. ‘This young lady just insulted you after all you’ve done for me today.’
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest primly. ‘Very funny.’
His blue-green eyes met hers, a small smile still playing around the sensual curve of his mouth. ‘It’s not such a good idea to insult people in a small country town,’ he cautioned. ‘You never know, it could very well come back to bite you.’
She let her brown eyes run over him slowly, taking in the bottle of Jack Daniels tucked under his arm, his faded board shorts, ragged T-shirt and thong-clad feet, before coming up to the lean line of his jaw, peppered with dark masculine stubble which looked as if it hadn’t seen a razor in thirty-six hours at the very least.
‘I think I’ll take a chance just this once,’ she said, straightening her shoulders as she glared at him. ‘I’ve met men like you before. The city I’ve just left is full of them. Petrol heads without the boost under the bonnet they need.’
His smile was teasing as he creaked open the door of his car, his lazy gaze sliding over her from head to foot, lingering a little too long on the up-thrust of her heaving breasts before he drawled back, ‘If ever you want to check under my bonnet to see if I’ve got the goods, sweetheart, you just let me know. I’d be more than happy to oblige.’
Holly was struck almost speechless at his insolence. How dared he look at her like that, as if he was undressing her with his eyes?
She opened her mouth to flay him but had to turn away with a gasping cough as he began to back out of the space, the choking fumes of his car making her eyes instantly water.
She turned back to mouth an insult at him as he drove away but she was almost certain he didn’t see.
He’d already disappeared into a cloud of thick blue smoke.
CHAPTER TWO
HOLLY was so flustered and angry that she took three wrong turns before she finally found the way to the cottage on Shelly Drive.
It was exactly as the receptionist had described: a semidetached cottage recently and very beautifully renovated, the light blue and white picket fence a perfect complement for the country cream and blue on the house.
The cottage attached was quite clearly still in the process of being restored to some sort of order. As she walked up the pathway to make herself known to her landlord, Holly could see through the uncurtained front windows an array of paint tins and makeshift scaffolding which suggested some major work was still being done inside.
Although there was a four-wheel drive vehicle in the driveway there didn’t seem to be the sound of any activity in the house. As she took another quick peep on the way to her front door Holly came to the conclusion that Dr McCarrick couldn’t possibly be a family man. No woman in her right mind would consent to live in such a mess.
She knocked on the front door and waited, listening for the sound of footsteps, but no one came to answer her summons.
She could feel the hot sun burning through her linen shirt as she stood on the veranda, tiny beads of perspiration starting to trickle down between her shoulder blades.
After another firm knock and a minute or two of waiting she blew out her breath and, swishing a few loose strands of her hair out of her eyes, made her way to the other cottage.
She unlocked the front door with the key the receptionist had given her and inhaled the not unpleasant smell of fresh paint and recently polished floorboards.
Leaving her bag on a small hall table she looked around with interest. The cottage had been tastefully decorated, the seaside atmosphere highlighted by the white and blue paint theme throughout. Soft billowing curtains hung at the windows, each window fitted with a neat roller blind so that the bright sunlight could be controlled throughout the day.
The kitchen was small but well appointed. She checked for a microwave and when she finally found it behind a clever cupboard door, gave an audible sigh of relief. Cooking had never been one of her strong points and her busy time at medical school and her internship at the Royal North Shore Hospital had meant the only type of cuisine she was comfortable preparing was of the heat-and-serve variety.
The one and only bedroom was again not large but it had a wall of built-in cupboards which made it seem more spacious. The bed was a small double, but she was well used to sleeping alone and couldn’t see that changing any time in the near future.
Her experience with Julian Drayberry had taught her well. She was going to concentrate on her career for a change. Besides, if what she’d seen so far was any indication, Baronga Beach was hardly likely to turn up anything other than geriatric men with attitudes and surfing hippies who had nothing better to do than run other people off the road.
She was on her final trip out to her car to get the last of her things when she heard the sound of a car turning the corner at the end of the street. She looked up to see the now all-too-familiar beat-up vehicle rattling along until it finally came to a hacking cough stop in front of a dilapidated house a couple of doors away.
Holly drew in a tight little breath as she watched the driver unfold himself from the car, and gave a mental grimace as she reached for her suitcase. Wasn’t it just her luck that Mr Surf Bum was going to be a neighbour? She knew there weren’t a whole lot of streets to choose from in Baronga Beach, but why did it have to be her one that he resided in?
She hoisted the bag out of the boot but one of the straps got stuck on the way past. She gave it a tug but it wouldn’t budge.
‘Need a hand?’ The same lazy drawl assaulted her ears for the second time that day.
Sending her eyes on a roll heavenwards, she stiffened her shoulders and, turning her head, gave him an overly sweet smile which did very little to disguise her gritted teeth. ‘Actually, I’m doing just fine,’ she said and gave the bag another almighty tug.
The bag sailed out and landed at her feet with a loud explosion as the catch snapped open, spewing clothes and shoes in all directions.
Holly looked down at her open suitcase. All her neatly folded clothes were now sprawled over the driveway and, to her absolute horror, the cheeky going away present the girls from the Mosman clinic had given her had rolled out of its brown paper wrapping and was now busily buzzing enthusiastically at the man’s thong-clad feet.
Holly wanted to die.
‘Wow,’ the man said as he bent to pick it up and began turning it over in his hands. ‘I’ve always wanted to see one of these. How does it work?’
Holly gave him a how-the-hell-would-I-know? sort of look but it was clear he didn’t buy it.
‘What’s this button for?’ He pressed it before she could think of something to say and her face flamed anew as a pre-recorded husky male voice said something erotically suggestive.
‘Give me that!’ She snatched it out of his hands and, fumbling for a
moment, finally managed to find the off switch.
She could feel his amusement coming towards her in waves as she stuffed the offensive object in amongst what was still left in her bag, her cheeks so hot she was sure she was going to be incinerated on the spot.
‘Here, let me give you a hand,’ the man offered helpfully, bending down to retrieve some of her underwear.
If anyone had told Holly she wouldn’ t be totally mortified by a perfect stranger picking up her bright pink knickers off the pavement even an hour ago she would have laughed, but the truth was—after the previous incident—her lingerie collection didn’t even rate a score on the embarrassment scale.
‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly and took the tiny garment from him.
‘It looks like you might need a new bag,’ he observed, handing her a lacy black bra.
She did her best not to notice the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners as she took it from him but it was hard going. He had the most expressive eyes she had ever seen on a man, maybe even on anyone.
‘Yes…’ She stuffed the rest of her clothes haphazardly in the bag and once it was done, straightened and, giving him a smile that lacked sincerity, said, ‘Thank you for your help. I wouldn’t want to keep you from whatever it is you are doing.’
‘As it happens I’m not doing anything right now, so if you need a hand settling in I’d be happy to hang around.’
‘No, thank you,’ she said, elevating her chin another fraction. ‘I think I’ll wait until my landlord arrives. No doubt he will want to show me around himself.’
There was a funny little silence.
‘Have you been introduced to him yet?’ he asked.
Holly wasn’t sure what to make of his unreadable little smile. It made her wonder what exactly Dr McCarrick was like. Karen Pritchard, the receptionist, had spoken highly of him but then she was a middle-aged woman who might not have the same critical judgement.
‘No…I haven’t yet had that privilege,’ she answered. ‘Do you know him well?’
‘Pretty well, I guess.’ He rocked back on his heels and whistled through his teeth for a moment as he looked down at her. ‘So, I take it you’re the new doctor?’
Holly couldn’t resist an imperious look at him down the length of her nose. ‘Yes, that’s correct.’
He didn’t look all that impressed, she noted somewhat resentfully.
‘Where are you from?’
‘Sydney.’
‘What part?’
‘The northern suburbs,’ she answered with a hint of North Shore pride.
‘A city girl, then.’
Holly tightened her mouth without responding. The way he said it made it sound as if it was something to be ashamed of. Her ire towards him went up another measure. What was it with him? As far as attitudes went he took the cake and the icing and candles, too.
‘So, how long are you down here?’ he asked.
‘The locum is for a year,’ she informed him. ‘But apparently after a year I have the option of staying on if I find things to my liking.’
‘If you have a thing for one in two on call and everyone knowing your business then you’ll settle in well,’ he said. ‘This is a small country seaside town and nothing, and I mean nothing, escapes the notice of its residents. Sure you can handle that?’
Holly straightened her spine. ‘Of course.’
He gave her a lengthy look and added, ‘There are no nightclubs and cinemas here and the only restaurant is a Chinese one run by a retired farmer, but let me tell you it’s not quite Chinatown.’ His eyes twinkled as he added, ‘It’s known locally as Hoo Flung Dung.’
In spite of her irritation towards him, Holly found it hard not to smile. He certainly had a sense of humour, even if it wasn’t exactly to her taste. She schooled her mouth back into a thin tight line and informed him curtly, ‘I’m here to work. I’m not interested in anything else.’
His blue-green eyes flicked to her suitcase for a moment before returning to hers. ‘I take it there’s no current boyfriend?’
Holly dearly wished she could invent one on the spot. How wonderful would it be to have a man appear at her side to dispel his assumptions about her right here and now?
‘I hardly see that it’s any of your business,’ she said somewhat tartly.
He gave her one of his stomach-tilting smiles. ‘At least you’ve come here well prepared.’ His twinkling eyes went to her bag and back to her still flaming cheeks. ‘Wise of you.’
Holly decided it would be better to gather up what remained of her pride and get away from his hateful presence before she made an even bigger fool of herself. She bent down and snapped her bag shut, and with a strength she had no idea she possessed, hauled it to the front door, praying earnestly that the buckle would hold until she was safely inside.
‘See you around,’ the man called out cheerily.
Holly gave him one last chilly look and shut the door with a definitive snap.
Holly arrived at the clinic an hour early so she could familiarise herself with her new surroundings.
She’d spent a quiet night in her new rented home, her ears pricked for any sound from the cottage next door, but apparently Dr McCarrick had either not come home for the night or he was much quieter than Karen Pritchard had described.
Karen greeted her when she arrived and began to show her around the facilities. ‘The bathroom is down there and here is the tea room,’ she said as she opened the door of a tiny room.
Holly peered past the receptionist, trying not to think of the plush suite of rooms she’d left in Mosman, with its cappuccino maker and leather armchairs and sofa in the doctors’ room.
Baronga Beach Medical Clinic ran to an old kettle, a few mismatched chipped mugs and a fridge that was making some very strange noises against the far wall. There was a small table and four chairs but none of them looked particularly comfortable.
‘Of course it’s probably nothing like you’re used to.’ Karen voiced Holly’s thoughts out loud. ‘But it serves the purpose. Besides, some days we’re lucky if we even get a tea break around here.’
She closed the door and led the way to the consulting rooms and, opening the first door, informed Holly, ‘This is Dr McCarrick’s room. It’s a bit bigger than yours but then he is the senior GP.’
Holly gave the room a quick assessing glance. There was a large desk with a computer positioned to one side of it, a bookcase which was jampacked with books and journals in rather a haphazard manner, suggesting the doctor wasn’t the tidiest of persons. There was a scattered pile of newspapers on the floor near the desk and a pot plant that looked as if it was in great need of water.
‘He doesn’t like us to tidy up in here,’ Karen explained. ‘He says he can’t find anything after we’ve been in. Every few months or so he has a big clean up but in a matter of days it’s always back to square one.’
‘So what’s the arrangement with the treatment room?’ Holly asked. ‘Do we take turns or something?’
Karen shook her head. ‘No, just give him a buzz on the intercom to check if it’s free. Now, come this way and I’ll show you your room.’
The room she’d been assigned was again nothing like the one she’d used in Sydney but it had the basics for all that. There was a desk and chair, a small bookcase and an examination table and equipment trolley beside it. There was a single window which looked out over the rear end of the nursing home section of the hospital.
Holly turned around to face Karen and gave her a wavering smile. ‘It’s very…nice.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s not exactly Macquarie Street in Sydney but hopefully you’ ll soon feel right at home. I’d better show you the treatment room and the store before the patients start arriving.’ There was the sound of a bell at the reception desk and she closed her eyes and grimaced. ‘That will be old Mrs Erma Shaw. She comes to all of her appointments at least half an hour early. It drives Sally, the other part-time receptionist, and I crazy at times. She talks non-sto
p and it’s impossible to get away from her.’
Holly gave an understanding smile. ‘I had at least five patients like that in the last practice I was in.’
‘Just as well then, as it’s you she booked in to see,’ Karen said as she opened the treatment room door. ‘I think you’ll be getting the once-over by most of the town over the next few days.’
The treatment room was well equipped with emergency equipment and a locked drug cupboard as well as the usual open-drawer trolleys with bandages and dressings. There was a strong light for minor surgical procedures suspended from the ceiling over a very basic procedure table, and there was resuscitation equipment on hand.
‘I think you’ll find everything you need in here but if there’s anything else you’d like us to stock just let us know.’ Karen led the way out again. ‘By the way, did you get to meet Dr McCarrick yesterday?’
‘No,’ Holly answered. ‘I was watching out for him but he didn’t appear to come home, although I think it was his car in the driveway.’
‘That’s because he was probably staying with a neighbour a couple of doors down. He did that a lot when he was renovating your place. He mustn’t have finished his bathroom yet.’
‘Speaking of neighbours, I met one of them yesterday.’
‘Oh?’ Karen gave her an interested look. ‘Which one?’
‘He didn’t get around to telling me his name, but I can tell you I wasn’t all that impressed with either his appearance or his attitude.’
‘That would have been Harry Winston,’ Karen said. ‘He’s more or less considered a bit of a no-hoper around here but Dr McCarrick always makes an effort to spend some time with him. He likes a drink now and again but he’s really pretty harmless. He’s not a mean drunk, if you know what I mean.’
Holly wasn’t exactly in agreement on the harmless tag. ‘He nearly ran me off the road as I came into town,’ she informed the receptionist darkly.
Karen looked shocked. ‘Oh, no! Don’t tell me he’s driving again. He had his licence disqualified three months ago for DUI. Dr McCarrick will be so disappointed; he’s been really trying to help Harry get sorted out since he was arrested.’
A Doctor Beyond Compare Page 2