Challenging Dr. Blake

by Rebecca Lang

  ‘I’ll say amen to that,’ Connie said. She had a tired, rather leathery face that had seen too much sun but had an expression of kindliness, humour and intelligence. ‘To us!’

  ‘To us!’ they all chorused.

  Signy wondered whether similar scenes were going on in the other huts. She hoped so as she sipped the very good wine. ‘I needed this,’ she said. ‘Thank you, Connie. Are you from this part of the country?’

  ‘Not originally,’ Connie said, ‘although I’ve worked and lived here for a while. I’ve worked with both Dan Blake and Max Seaton before.’

  Terri perked up. ‘Tell us about Max,’ she said. ‘Is he for real? I mean, has he got a personality to match his gorgeous exterior?’

  Connie hesitated. ‘I prefer not to say too much before you’ve had a chance to make up your own mind, more or less,’ she said. ‘Let me just say that men like Max ultimately disappoint because you tend to expect too much of them, and they can’t oblige.’

  ‘That’s a great way of putting it,’ Terri said. ‘Elaborate.’

  ‘Well…they go for what they want, without giving much thought to what the other person might want,’ Connie said.

  ‘Has he been on any long assignments?’ Signy asked.

  ‘I think he goes mainly to short-term disaster zones, hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions…that sort of thing,’ Connie said. ‘Where you do your bit and then get out.’

  ‘What about Dan?’ Signy found herself saying. ‘I’m curious about him.’

  ‘He’s a different sort of person,’ Connie said. ‘A great doctor. I think he’s really dedicated to his work, so he makes a difference wherever he goes. There was some sadness in his life, so I heard. He was living with a woman, another doctor. They’d been together for several years, so I believe, then she got fed up with him going off around the world. Apparently, she didn’t mind at first, then I guess the novelty wore off and she wanted to settle down, get married, have babies. I think she gave him an ultimatum, so I heard…his work or her.’

  ‘And he chose the work?’ Pearl said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What else is new?’ Pearl said with a laugh. ‘I can see where this sort of work could be addictive. You get to use every bit of skill you have.’

  ‘Aren’t we a lot of gossips?’ Terri said lightly, not seeming to care. ‘Where is the woman now? Married to someone else, with three or four kids?’

  ‘As a matter of fact,’ Connie said, ‘she works in Vancouver as a GP, I think, and used to spend some time in the small place up the coast, Brookes Landing, where we’ll be going for some of the time, so I heard. Maybe she still does. And, no, I don’t think she’s married.’

  ‘Maybe she regrets giving him the ultimatum,’ Pearl suggested.

  ‘Maybe,’ Connie said thoughtfully, ‘but imagine how you would feel if your man, or your husband, was going off to dangerous places maybe twice a year and staying away for several weeks.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Terri murmured. ‘Not exactly conducive to a harmonious married life. I’ve more or less decided that the moment I get serious about anyone, I won’t be doing this any more…unless maybe he can come with me. What about you, Signy?’

  ‘Well…’ Signy began hesitantly, ‘I guess I got into this because I was running away. At least, I wanted to get away. I haven’t really thought about what I would do…’ That was the nearest she had come to telling anyone about Simon, other than her parents, and she hadn’t told them a great deal. Perhaps there was going to be a lot about this place that was conducive to confidences.

  A bell rang, telling them it was time for supper, interrupting the details. Signy was secretly pleased that now she knew something else about Dan, after he had quizzed her; it helped her to try to put things into perspective. She could somehow picture him turning down a woman for his work. Well, it was nothing to do with her, except that now she had a starting point from which to work where he was concerned.

  Feeling decidedly upbeat, having finished the bottle of wine between them, they all trooped out. ‘Any more of that wine and we’d have needed a map to get to the mess hall,’ Pearl said. Again they all laughed. This was going to be a great place.

  After a very good supper, again simple but well cooked, Signy slipped out of the mess hut to go for a walk by herself. It was already dusk, a lot cooler than during the day, with a moistness in the air, so that she draped the wide wool scarf that she’d brought with her around her shoulders, pulling it close. The need to be alone for a while was paramount, as was the need to clear the image of Simon from her mind.

  She took a direction that she hadn’t taken before, a narrow concrete path than ran around the edge of the camp, away from the mess and the residential huts. Some of the other buildings looked as though they had originally been drill halls, while some seemed to be divided up into administrative offices. This camp was used for conferences and other purposes, so she’d heard. World Aid Doctors couldn’t afford to keep such a place solely for themselves—the place was subsidized by various levels of government. It was an interesting place, and she looked around her curiously.

  It was good to feel the cool, refreshing air on her face, to look up to see the pale grey of the evening sky, the dark, tall, mysterious trees of the forest over to her left.

  ‘Signy!’ A voice spoke just behind her.

  ‘Ah!’ she gasped in alarm, having felt that she was alone. Dan was on the path behind her, his tall figure just visible in the gloom. ‘Dr Blake, you…you frightened me.’

  ‘Sorry. I guess I should have coughed or something,’ he said apologetically, coming up to her.

  His presence bothered her, although she couldn’t at that moment analyse all the reasons why, and she had wanted to be alone. It was at least partly because they’d been discussing him before dinner. Also, there was a powerful, understated masculinity about him and unlike Max Seaton, he seemed unaware of its effect…even though he wasn’t her type, Signy reminded herself.

  ‘I was rather hoping to be alone for a few minutes,’ she said candidly. ‘I don’t want to sound rude…It’s just that I…have things to think about. I suppose that’s it.’

  ‘Sorry again,’ he said quietly, falling into step with her as she began to walk slowly on again. He had changed for dinner into stone-coloured cotton trousers that were casual yet somehow elegant on his spare frame, topped with an off-white, baggy shirt with the long sleeves rolled up. Signy looked at him covertly. At dinner her attention had been on Max, who had sat opposite her at the long table, although she had been all too aware of Dan and had deliberately not looked at him.

  ‘I want to give you this handbook about earthquakes. It’s put out specifically for this area, since you seem to be concerned about it,’ he said, with no particular inflection in his voice, handing her a slim booklet. ‘There should be at least one of these in each hut for you all to read. I guess you haven’t seen it yet?’

  ‘No. Thank you,’ she said.

  ‘It’s a good idea to be aware, and prepared to a certain extent, but not to dwell on it,’ he said. ‘There’s an earthquake preparation kit in each hut—bottled water, packaged food, a tent, battery radio, flashlight, matches, that sort of thing.’

  ‘I see,’ she said. At some point she had to broach the subject with him of whether he was the R.D.H. Blake she had heard about in Africa. The uncertainty of that unanswered question was making her increasingly agitated in his presence.

  They walked on slowly, the scents of the forest around them. Signy sighed inwardly, very aware of the man at her side invading her privacy.

  ‘Would you like me to go?’ he said softly.

  ‘No…no, it’s all right,’ she said, her face flushing with embarrassment.

  ‘Grudging,’ he commented, a smile in his voice. ‘Definitely grudging.’

  She glanced at him quickly but couldn’t discern his expression in the dusk. ‘It’s my turn to apologize now,’ she said. ‘Sorry if I sound bad-tempered
. It’s just that I have a lot on my mind, which doesn’t have to do with here and now.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ he said. ‘That’s partly why you’re here. Do you want to talk about it?’

  Signy stopped on the pathway and turned to look at him. ‘No!’ she said emphatically, spitting out the word. ‘You know, I’m sick and tired of people asking me that question, and I think the other nurses here are sick of it, too. I think when we talk, we’ll talk to each other, or we’ll do it when we’re ready, not when we’re being prompted. I know you mean well, so do those other professional listeners, but we have to be ready to talk.’

  ‘I realize that, Signy,’ he said seriously, looking down at her.

  ‘Do you? It’s mostly people who haven’t themselves been anywhere other than a cosy office who ask that question…back and forth every day from cosy home to cosy office. I think that we who have been out to dangerous places are a curiosity to them. They have degrees in psychology, or something like that, and try to categorize you on a certain scale of norms that they were taught at university, to fit you into a stereotyped scheme that takes no account of you as an individual…’

  ‘I don’t think I come into that category,’ he said.

  ‘Perhaps not. It just sounds that way.’

  ‘Signy, don’t,’ he said gently. He reached out and caught her arm, his fingers warm on her bare skin.

  She tried to pull away but he held her forearm firmly in his grasp. ‘Why not?’ she demanded. ‘It’s true, isn’t it?’

  ‘As I said, not of me, I hope. I do know what you mean. We don’t employ people with psychology degrees. We mainly have people who’ve been in dangerous and demanding situations themselves, not theorists,’ he said.

  It was the warmth of his hand, Signy decided, that made her feel vulnerable in his presence. ‘They think they know everything,’ she went on. ‘It’s so…so patronizing.’

  ‘I agree,’ he said.

  ‘Then why are you asking me?’

  ‘A simple sense that you might want to talk to someone,’ he said. ‘No strings attached, no particular agenda. Come on, let’s walk.’ His hand slid down her forearm to grasp her hand and pull her gently with him as he started to walk again.

  Quickly she jerked her hand away, because she was beginning to find his touch comforting. Not that it mattered really. She told herself, somewhat grimly, that he wasn’t a man to whom she could be attracted in a romantic sense, an anomalous man belonging to two countries, a mystery that she didn’t care to fathom in the short time that was available to her. Although he was in some ways English and thus familiar, there was an alien quality to him. At any other time she might have welcomed that difference, but now she wasn’t sure that she wanted to expend the mental energy.

  ‘There is something you can tell me,’ she said, making up her mind quickly and forcing the words out. ‘Does the name Dominic Fraser mean anything to you? Dr Dominic Fraser?’ As she asked the question she realized how angry she had been, as well as filled with grief, from the time that she’d heard about Dominic’s fate. Up to now, the mourning had largely masked that anger.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘I don’t think it does.’

  ‘You are the R.D.H. Blake who was in Africa at the time we pulled out of Somalia?’ she went on. ‘I don’t think there could be two people with those initials.’

  They had stopped again and were facing each other. ‘I was there at that time, briefly,’ he said. ‘I certainly didn’t meet you before, and I didn’t know a Dominic Fraser.’

  ‘That’s odd,’ she said, rushing on, ‘because we got a message from you at our medical station, telling us to pull out. It was brought by two people in a truck from World Aid Doctors. We had to pack up there and then and get into the truck. One of our party, Dr Fraser, was away at the time, trying to link up with some UN workers. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’

  ‘What was the name of the medical station?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘It was at a small refugee crossing, a place called Lassi Ahmed,’ she said. ‘Mostly people only passed through. They stayed long enough to get some treatment, and then kept moving.’

  ‘It rings a bell,’ he said. ‘Not far from the Kenyan border?’

  ‘Yes, you could say that,’ she said tightly. ‘Far enough, though, when you’re trying to get out.’

  ‘If I sent a directive for you to get out,’ he said, ‘it would have come from someone else in the organization. I would have just been passing on a message from higher up the line, organizing a truck for the evacuation. I didn’t have any decision-making power. When it’s time to get out, you have to move in a hurry.’

  Signy swallowed, trying to dispel the lump of emotion in her throat.

  ‘I assume that this Dr Fraser didn’t make it out?’ he asked dryly, quietly.

  ‘No…he didn’t make it.’

  ‘Am I to understand that you’re somehow blaming me for that?’ he asked.

  ‘I…I don’t know what to think,’ she said, her voice trembling.

  ‘Believe me,’ he gave a mirthless laugh, ‘I didn’t have that sort of power. I wasn’t making the decisions to pull out. I would have been passing on a message from those who co-ordinate all the assignments. We advise people to get out, provide them with the means. If they choose not to do so, that’s their decision. At any one time we are overseeing quite a lot of different operations. I had my own work to do, as well as my own safety to think about.’

  Obviously he remembered something about the operation, but not the details. Signy didn’t want to tell him that not only had Dominic been missing, she herself had chosen not to take the truck with the others, had decided to stay for two more days to wait for Dominic. It had been a calculated risk…

  For moments they stood looking at each other in the dusk, then he touched her arm lightly. ‘Come on, let’s continue our walk,’ he invited.

  ‘The first time I went to Africa,’ Dan said, after moments of strained silence, ‘was with World Aid Doctors, when I was a third-year medical student. They sent me to South Africa, an emergency clinic near a black township. It was supposed to be relatively safe, suitable for an inexperienced guy like myself. There were a lot of tensions, racial and otherwise. It was my job to mop up after riots and the like. I can’t find adequate words to describe the things that I saw. There was also the knowledge that you would patch someone up, fight for their life, then they would go out and get injured again in a similar way.’

  ‘Yes…I think I can picture it,’ Signy said. ‘I know that I don’t have a monopoly on angst. It’s just that one feels one does.’

  They walked on in silence, the path having brought them to an area where a high chain-link fence enclosed the grounds of the camp, making a very definite demarcation line between the forest and the man-made dwelling place. An attempt had been made to cultivate the area inside the fence, with flower-beds here and there and with low shrubs that wouldn’t be a threat in the event of a forest fire.

  ‘One of the reasons we can’t talk about things,’ Dan went on quietly, ‘is that we can’t make sense of what has happened, and we want desperately to make sense of it—make sense of human behaviour. Later we come to see that talking to others who have had the same experiences is cathartic, even if there is no logic to what has taken place.’

  ‘I suppose that’s it,’ Signy said. When his arm accidentally brushed hers as they walked along the narrow path she had a sense of wanting to cry, her emotions very close to the surface, as though the human contact gave her permission to let go when she had spent so long holding herself in check, bearing up.

  Maybe that was what Dan intended. She didn’t like the idea that she could be somehow an experiment for him, part of the job he was doing. Instinctively she didn’t think that was the case, yet she moved to the edge of the path away from him.

  ‘But you want to go back to the same kind of work?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, I think so. But this time I don’t want to be quite so green, s
o naïve. I want to be as prepared as I can possibly be, and to have some choice about where I go, if I can. Maybe I won’t go back to Africa…not for a long time, anyway.’

  ‘We can only go where we’re wanted. We can’t impose ourselves. This is no do-gooder organization. You learn humility, a certain cynicism, I think,’ he said. ‘You have to have your feet very firmly on the ground. Idealism is great, but it has to be tempered with realism, a necessary protection for oneself.’

  Signy remained silent, still not caring to tell him that she hadn’t taken the truck out when it had come to rescue them. Very forcefully, a renewed realization hit her that she was very lucky to be alive. They walked on slowly. In spite of their topic of conversation, there was a magical quality in the air, a rich mellowness, even though the air had cooled with the going down of the sun. A wind from the ocean rustled the tops of the trees, yet they were largely sheltered from it.

  She felt the oddity of walking here, as though for a regular evening stroll, with a man for whom she felt nothing of significance emotionally, other than wariness, a man she hadn’t known before that morning. Well, she would resist his efforts to categorize her, if that was what he might be trying to do.

  ‘What makes you want to go on?’ he said.

  ‘Oh…to give up now, after what I’ve endured, would somehow betray the others, who showed such courage and dedication in their work.’ She had been going to say that it would somehow betray Dominic, but she bit the words back. Maybe Dan had already surmised the rest of her story, but she wasn’t ready to confide in him further. Neither was she ready to tell him that for a long time afterwards she had felt as though she were sleep-walking, just going through the motions of being alive. Obsessively she had thought of Dominic, how they’d worked together, all that he’d ever said to her, how they’d shared jokes…she and the other nurses and doctors.