‘But...’
Exasperated, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Her lips, her body, were still on fire from the intensity of their lovemaking, but the shock of seeing that the siblings from Mosa were about to leave was slowly numbing her once again. It was a clear reminder that whilst she had been cavorting in Quinn’s cabin Abeje had still been ill.
I can’t believe I did that! What kind of person am I?
She felt hot. Sick. Ashamed of what she’d done.
She went straight over to Abeje’s bed, her legs trembling, feeling weak. She would never leave Abeje’s side again.
It’s good that the children are going home. People do recover from malaria.
It didn’t always have to destroy and decimate.
She saw Quinn give them a small bag of medication as Maria translated to the parents how and when to give the meds. The parents listened, and before Tasha knew it the staff were waving them all goodbye.
Tasha had no doubt that this family would be absolutely fine. They were lucky. It was all working out for them and they deserved this moment as they walked out through the ward’s double doors.
She looked down at the floor, sick with regret. Her moment with Quinn had been everything she had dreamed it would be. He was an amazing lover. The need they’d felt for the other had been overwhelming. But...
His gaze locked with hers and she felt heat rise to her cheeks before she looked away. Abeje had been fighting her fever and yet she had gone to Quinn’s cabin to look after him and somehow ended up in his bed!
How could she have done that when Abeje was so poorly? How could she have slept with Quinn when this darling little girl was still fighting and needed her by her side?
I abandoned her...like I abandoned Maddie.
What if something had gone wrong? What if she had got worse? Deteriorated all alone while she had so selfishly sought comfort from a man. From Abeje’s doctor!
I could never have forgiven myself. I already owe the debt of one life. I can’t afford to lose another.
Tasha vowed to herself there and then that no matter what happened she would not leave Abeje’s side again until she was walking out of this hospital ship to go home.
* * *
Quinn had felt elated. For about a minute afterwards. And then the guilt had come tumbling down upon him.
He’d slept with Tasha. The first woman he’d slept with since Hannah. It felt wrong to have done so. And he hated the shame he felt inside.
He’d been the one to get out of bed first, to try and dress himself, but he’d had to stand there whilst she helped him with his buttons again. He’d done his best not to look at her, but when he’d had to he’d tried to smile, hoping she wouldn’t see the shame he felt.
When they’d got to the treatment deck and Tasha had seen the Mosa kids were leaving she had bolted for Abeje and he’d been glad for the distance. Glad to involve himself with the kids’ departure, ensuring they had everything they needed. When they’d gone he’d turned to look at her, trying to decide what to do, but she’d not been looking at him—for which he was grateful.
I feel I’ve been unfaithful to my wife.
Logically, he knew that was ridiculous. Hannah was dead. Had been for years. And he was bound to feel this way the first time he was intimate with someone.
Should it have been Tasha?
A woman he’d already hurt?
A woman he felt responsible for?
The woman I...
He couldn’t say the last word. Not even to himself. If he said that—if he thought it—it would be like admitting that he might lose another mother and her child.
I don’t know if I can do that again.
He’d jumped out the frying pan and straight into the fire.
And sparks were flying.
* * *
‘Miss Tasha?’
Gasping, she looked up, her eyes locking onto Abeje’s in an instant. The little girl’s eyes were open and she was trying to smile.
‘Abeje!’
She held her tightly, trying not to squeeze her, but feeling such elation that she was awake and talking. She lay Abeje back against the pillow and pressed her fingers to her lips for a kiss, then put those fingers on Abeje’s cheek.
‘You’ve had me so worried! How are you feeling?’
‘I’m thirsty.’ She coughed. ‘Can I have some water?’
‘Of course! Of course you can!’ She turned to Maria, who was standing close by. ‘Can you get her some?’
‘Of course!’
Tasha turned back to the little girl in the bed. ‘Everyone has been missing you so much! You have no idea.’
The corners of her mouth curled upwards, just slightly.
‘I’ve been reading to you. And there’s a special book of letters the class wrote. When you’ve got a bit more strength I’ll show it to you.’
‘I’d like that.’ Abeje blinked slowly. ‘I am tired.’
‘Of course you are. You’ve been battling hard.’
She laid her hand against Abeje’s forehead. Her fever was down. She’d broken it. Beat it. She was going to be all right. Relief flooded her system in such waves that she thought she might easily be knocked off her feet.
Maria brought over a small jug of water and poured some into a cup. As she did so the ship filled with the sound of an alarm—distant, from another floor.
‘Excuse me.’
Maria rushed off the floor. No doubt to an emergency.
Tasha held the cup to Abeje’s mouth, supporting her head so that it didn’t spill everywhere.
‘You’re going to be all right.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
ABEJE WAS COUGHING a bit. Sounding chesty. He had to listen in. Just to check. Her lungs were a bit crackly, and he wanted to do something about that.
The pressure to heal Abeje had been weighing heavy on his shoulders. He did not want to feel responsible for ripping Tasha’s tender heart in two. He’d not been able to bear imagining Tasha at Abeje’s bedside, feeling hopeless as she watched another child die, and to be honest he didn’t think he’d have been able to do it either.
He’d feel as if he were to blame. He knew he would. And he couldn’t carry the burden of another death on his shoulders.
If he wanted to be with Tasha then she came with Abeje. He knew that. And that was risky for him. He wasn’t sure he could allow himself to care for another child like that. So intensely. With his whole heart. She seemed a sweet girl, and Tasha had told him lots about her, but he didn’t know her.
He wanted to believe that he could. He wanted to believe that maybe he could be happy once again. Be settled, have a family. But...
He watched Tasha as she laughed and smiled and chatted with Abeje. They were so good together. Belonged together.
Perhaps it was best if he just walked away?
Sailed away to Madagascar and didn’t look back?
Cursing, he draped his stethoscope around his neck and wrote on her chart.
‘I’m going to order an X-ray of her chest.’
‘You think she’s got an infection?’
Tasha’s eyes were wide with fresh fear. With the worry of yet another complication in Abeje’s recovery. He saw it clearly. Felt it like a punch in his gut.
Heal this child.
‘I think she might be developing one.’
‘Then we need to get her on antibiotics.’
‘We need the films first.’
‘But we should start them anyway. What harm would it do?’
He didn’t like the way she kept trying to interfere with the treatment. Yes, she might once have been a doctor, but she wasn’t one right now, was she?
Dammit, I’m allowing my fear to become anger. At her. For putting me in this position.
‘Fi
ne. But I’m still ordering an X-ray. It might take a while. That alarm we just heard will be occupying all available staff.’
It was just him, Tasha and Abeje on this floor at the moment. He’d not been able to attend the emergency call. A doctor had to remain on each ward at all times. He couldn’t leave. No matter how much he might want to.
‘Do you think it might be pneumonia?’
He didn’t want to guess. But it was a good assumption.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Pneumonia’s bad.’
‘You think I don’t know that?’
She looked hurt. ‘Why are you getting angry at me?’
‘I’m not! I’m just...’ He sighed. ‘Let me order the X-ray.’
And he stalked over to his desk to phone the order through. Hopefully the X-ray bay would be clear and they could take her straight down.
Only it wasn’t. They had someone in there from another floor. Could he give them thirty minutes?
Sure.
He sat at his desk, staring over at Tasha, wondering what in the world he was going to do.
His shoulder hurt. Quinn took a couple of painkillers and flexed and stretched his fingers. Having his left arm in a sling was a real obstacle. He hadn’t realised for how many things you needed both hands. Simple things. Like doing up buttons. Closing the zip on his trousers. Trying to make a cup of tea. Putting on a fresh bandage. Setting up an IV. Trying to take bloods.
He frequently had to get one of the nurses to assist him.
He felt hobbled, and he didn’t like it. It reminded him of the time when he was eighteen and had broken his ankle playing football. Being on crutches for weeks had seriously impaired his mood. That feeling of being somehow less than he normally was had been incredibly uncomfortable.
He tried to imagine how Abeje felt, lying in her bed, weak and feeble. Not at full strength. He tried to imagine how Tasha must feel, not being a doctor any more.
I’d miss it! Way too much!
He could never stop being a doctor. He could never leave this ship. Well, he didn’t think he could. Though he supposed there were other medical jobs he could do in Ntembe. Maybe he’d set up his own clinic? That way he could be with Tasha properly and the people here would never be without medical aid. Currently, if Serendipity wasn’t in dock, they had to walk for days to find it.
But that would be a big step to take.
In fact it would be a giant step! They’d both admitted they had feelings for each other, but he had no idea of the strength of her feelings. If he jumped ship to stay behind with her, that would make a pretty big statement, wouldn’t it?
‘Penny for them?’ Rob slumped into a chair next to Quinn.
He looked at his good friend and considered admitting everything. But he wasn’t a great talker. If his dad had taught him one thing, it was to button up all emotions. You kept them hidden so you weren’t thought of as weak.
‘You and Maria...you get on, right?’
Rob grinned. ‘Yeah, we do.’
‘Working together? Living together on this boat?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And it’s going well?’
‘Well, we’re engaged, so I’d have to say yes.’ Rob smiled and chewed on the end of his pen. ‘You and Tasha thinking of making it serious?’
Quinn shook his head. ‘I don’t know. It’s complicated.’
‘When isn’t it?’
‘It doesn’t look complicated for you guys,’ he said.
‘Are you kidding me?’ Rob leaned in to whisper. ‘When I met Maria she was with some other guy. A yahoo paramedic who went base-jumping and bungee-jumping and all that other adrenaline junkie crap. Her family loved him. Thought he was a real man. Someone who lived life to the full.’
‘What happened?’
‘To him? Nothing. He’s probably still throwing himself out of aeroplanes. But the thing is she fell in love with me, and I worked on this ship, and that meant I was going to be taking her away from her family—which the other guy hadn’t done—so they hated my guts. Told her that a real man would be a doctor, not a nurse, and that she had to break it off with me.’
‘I had no idea.’
‘They told her it was me or them. That if she came away with me they’d have nothing to do with her. Can you imagine that kind of pressure?’
Quinn shook his head.
‘She left with me. And though we’re happy, and very much in love—as you can tell—she has this constant battle with vicious emails and telephone calls from her family.’
‘She sacrificed love for love?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah. And I’m thankful for it every day. I know what it took for her to be here with me.’
‘Tasha has sacrificed a lot, too.’
Rob leant forward. ‘Look. If you want to be with Tasha, then be with her. If you love her, if you have feelings for her, if you can’t imagine your life without her, then do it.’
Could he imagine life without her now? He thought about sailing off to Madagascar, unable to see her again for a few months. Waving to her from the ship as she remained in port, holding the hand of the little girl she loved so much.
Tasha would bring a ready-made family. She’d come with Abeje—no doubt about that now.
Could he get involved with a mother and child? Put his heart on the line once again?
‘She lives here.’
‘It’s gotta be your choice, man. You can save lives anywhere. But your heart stays with one woman.’
‘You trying to get rid of me, Rob?’ he joked, trying to make the atmosphere less strained.
‘No way! You’re the kind of guy I’d want in my corner if I ever got sick. But I see how you look at her. How she looks at you when you’re not watching. You’ve got something special. Don’t waste it. You have no idea if it’ll ever come along again.’
Quinn stared down at the desk. Then he looked up, saw the way Tasha stared at Abeje, with intensity in her searing gaze, desperate for the little girl to get better but fearing a new complication. A new battle to fight for such a small body.
He heard Abeje cough again. It didn’t sound good. Alarm bells were sounding in his mind.
Sometimes he found it hard to switch that off—constantly assessing people. Counting respirations. Looking at the sclera of someone’s eyes, checking for jaundice.
A million things could give you many clues about a person. A lump low in the throat could be a thyroid problem. A rash could be any number of things from innocent to deadly. Sneezing. Coughing. The sound of someone’s breathing. How many breaths they took in a single minute. The way their fingernails looked. The way they walked.
There were always signs a doctor saw, discarded, or became concerned about.
Abeje tried to sit up a bit, so Tasha reached forward to help adjust her pillows. Sitting upright would help her breathing. But she didn’t look great.
‘Thanks, Rob. I’ll...er...have to think about it.’
He wanted to listen in to Abeje’s chest again. Maybe start wheeling her down to X-ray. They could wait in the corridor if they weren’t ready for them, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
He stepped up to the bed. ‘Just whilst you’re sitting up, can I have another listen?’
He placed a SATs monitor on Abeje’s finger to check her oxygen saturations. It read ninety-four. Which was lower than he’d like. Just to be on the safe side he placed a nasal cannula into her nostrils to give her extra oxygen, tucking the thin tube behind her ears and then tightening the clasp just under her chin before listening in with his stethoscope.
Tasha looked at him, one eyebrow raised, but she sat and took hold of Abeje’s hand.
‘Now, I don’t want you to worry about the work you’ve missed in class. I’ll help you catch up when you’re much better.’ She smiled. ‘I took some
photos on my phone of the class. Let me show you what we’ve been up to.’
Tasha leaned in and turned her phone so Abeje could see.
‘This is one of everyone showing their acrostic poems, using the letters of their names. Habib’s one was very funny! Just wait till you hear it—he’s going to grow up to be a comedian!’
Quinn stood beside them, grateful that she was trying to keep Abeje’s spirits lifted. He wrote her SATs into her medical notes, but the monitor on her finger was still there and he could see that even with the nasal cannula her SATs were falling.
‘Tasha...’
‘Look at this one of Claudette. Oh, she was so proud of this painting! Can you tell what it is?’
Tasha hadn’t heard the note of warning in his voice. The concern. She was just thrilled to be showing her pictures to Abeje.
The oxygen saturations continued to fall. Ninety-one. Ninety. Eighty-eight.
‘Okay, Abeje, I don’t think that position is a good one for you to be in. I’m going to give you some full-flow oxygen.’ He leant forward to remove the cannula and place the mask over her face.
Tasha sat back as if he’d shocked her with electricity, her face draining of colour. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Her SATs are dropping.’
‘What’s going on?’ There was a note of panic in her voice now.
‘I’m not sure.’
He met Tasha’s gaze then, and read the question in her eyes. The question she didn’t want to speak out loud in case it frightened the little girl.
Is she going into respiratory arrest?
That was his fear.
He looked for Rob. He’d been there a moment ago—where had he gone? It was just him and Tasha.
Abeje’s eyes closed and her face went slack.
‘Oh, my God!’ Tasha leapt back, startled, dropping her phone to the deck.
Quinn smacked the emergency button behind the bed and the alarm sounded. He needed to remove the pillows from behind Abeje’s head, but he needed both hands—one to remove the pillows and another to steady Abeje’s neck. But he was hobbled...one arm strapped to his chest.
‘Tasha, remove the pillows. I’ll hold her head.’
‘Quinn...’
A Child to Heal Them Page 14