He’d have joined if he’d thought it would help Richard. The thought flashed through Jo’s head and although she barely knew this man who’d come to work for her, she knew this guess had been correct. He was that kind of man.
Although …
‘But would it work?’ she asked. ‘Even if he comes in for his shoulder, could you talk about other stuff?’
This time his smile was so warm and teasing Jo knew she should sack him right now—this very minute—and somehow muddle through the holidays on her own, or get a locum, or leave town herself. Anything rather than fall in love with Cam.
Fall in love? Where had that come from? What had happened to simple lust?
Or even complicated lust?
‘What if the fact he is in pain was adding to his aggro at home?’ the smiling man asked. ‘And if we could do something for the pain … ‘
He left the sentence hanging in the air, but the way he’d said ‘we’ had touched off the zapping sensation along her nerves again, and she muttered a very hasty goodnight and took her bag of rubbish back into the house.
To Cam’s astonishment, Richard Trent did turn up at the clinic
the next morning, confirming Cam’s guess that his shoulder
must be extremely painful.
‘Have you had ultrasound treatment before?’ Cam asked
him.
‘A couple of years ago—maybe more. Jo’s dad did it.’ The way Richard said Jo’s name told Cam the man had calmed down from the anger he’d been feeling the previous evening, but Cam was also very aware he couldn’t venture into any matter beyond this particular appointment.
‘Then you’ll probably remember that I’ll put some gel on your shoulder, then rub the head of the machine across it. What it does is send sound waves into your body. They warm the area, which provides some pain relief, but more importantly they increase blood supply to the muscle or tendon to help healing and reduce swelling. Have you had an ultrasound test—same machine, different use—to pinpoint the exact problem?’
Richard was up on the treatment table by now, and Cam applied gel and moved the head of the machine over the skin of the injured shoulder.
‘A while back, down in Port,’ Richard admitted. ‘The doctor bloke there said there was calcification in the tendons around the rotator cuff and I should have an op.’
‘Maybe,’ Cam told him, ‘although sometimes this together with a little manipulation and massage will break the calcification down. Problem is, this treatment is best if you have it for five to ten minutes, two to three times a day. Most people can’t fit three medical appointments into their day, although now you can buy small, battery-operated machines that work with the same sound waves. You could check out the local pharmacy or try the internet, maybe get one you could use at home.’
Cam finished and turned off the machine then massaged the shoulder, not talking now, knowing silence was awkward for some people and they would rush to fill it with talk.
Not Richard Trent! He remained stoically still and silent while Cam massaged his shoulder, then sat up, thanked Cam, pulled on his shirt and was preparing to depart when he hesitated.
Was Richard about to open up to him?
Remember whatever he says you have to be non-judgemental. The message rang loud and clear in Cam’s head.
‘I shouldn’t have got upset about you taking the boys surfing—you were probably only doing what you thought was a good turn.’
Cam nodded. He wanted so desperately to help this man, and the wanting reminded him of why he’d gone further than straight medicine and studied psychology as well.
‘It was nothing. I’m sorry it upset you,’ he said, testing every word before he said it, afraid he could lose whatever slim connection he might have made with Richard. ‘I surf every morning, and love it so much I want everyone to know the joy. I suppose it’s like you with cricket. Jo was telling me you played schoolboy cricket for the state.’
‘Long time ago,’ Richard said. ‘BM I call it.’
‘BM?’
‘Before marriage! Jackie was pregnant, we had to get married, I’m not telling you anything the whole town doesn’t know.’
But you’re telling me you’re bitter about it, very bitter, yet you’ve obviously been married a long time now and the abuse is only recent—what’s changed? Cam’s mind was racing. He knew many of the cricketers who played for their state or country were married, many with children, so why would it have stopped Richard’s career?
Again speaking carefully, Cam asked, ‘Would you have liked to play on? Go further?’
‘Wouldn’t anyone?’ Richard muttered, and this time he did leave, but he left behind a man who’d received a precious gift—a reminder for Cam that this was what he enjoyed—helping people and knowing that in his own small way he could help people.
Not that he’d done much for Richard yet, but Cam knew he was no longer rudderless—that his career was back on track, his enthusiasm for practising medicine and psychology alive and well again.
Jo must have passed Richard in the hall, for she arrived in Cam’s doorway seconds later.
‘Any luck?’ she asked.
Cam grinned at her.
‘His shoulder might be less painful,’ he replied, ‘and I’ve a feeling of cautious optimism, though that could well be misplaced.’
He grinned at her, wanting to share the new optimism he was feeling, but she couldn’t have got the vibe because she frowned, and he had a sudden urge to kiss that little frown line away.
Maybe kiss her lips as well—hold her—but not in a comforting way.
Fortunately—well, probably fortunately—she disappeared from his doorway while he was pondering kisses and hugs, leaving him staring at the space where she had been.
Puzzled and a little uneasy about this sudden urge to kiss his boss in a very inappropriate setting, he used getting a beach permit as an excuse to avoid lunch in the communal room. But was she also avoiding him that she was out at lunchtime too, and on Thursday? She actually phoned him in his consulting room on Friday to remind him of the meeting. ‘I’ll drive you, save taking two cars,’ she suggested.
‘No, I’ll take the van. If we finish in time I might put my new permit to good use and go down the long beach for a surf.’
The surf had flattened out and she probably knew that, but she didn’t mention it, simply reminding him the meeting was at four at the community centre.
‘It’s the modern-looking building behind the hospital. There’s a meeting room on the left as you walk in,’ she explained to him. ‘See you there.’
It was fairly stupid as he couldn’t avoid her for ever, and he did see her at work, passing in the hall, meeting to discuss a patient at the front desk, but in work mode he could forget how she’d looked on a surfboard, body curved, head held high, eyes aglow, at one with the elemental force of the ocean—in control of the curling green wave.
Almost forget.
He was early for the meeting—army training too strong for him to ever arrive anywhere late. But arriving early had its own reward, for he could see these virtual strangers enter the room, and watch the interaction between them.
Mike was an organiser, arriving with a small briefcase that he opened to reveal a laptop and a sheaf of papers, copies of an agenda, Cam discovered when Mike handed him one.
Lauren, now, was different. One look at her face when Tom walked in was enough to tell Cam she was attracted to his old acquaintance, which made the fact that Tom studiously avoided looking at Lauren even more interesting. Lauren was a beautiful woman, and Tom was a man who collected beautiful women. Had he tried and been rebuffed?
The attraction between them seemed apparent to Cam, a newcomer, looking in from the outside, but one was resisting and one was ignoring—interesting!
‘Did you come to try the chairs or are you going to get involved?’
Jo’s teasing remark brought him out of his analysis of the vibes in the room and he smiled at the p
eople he was finding so intriguing.
‘Thinking of something,’ he said, then knew he’d made a mistake. Jo wasn’t one to let an opening like that slip away.
‘So tell,’ she demanded, and Cam had to sort some vague thoughts he’d had while out on his board this morning into sensible order. But not before he’d snapped a ‘Yes, boss’ and a crisp salute at her, and watched the delicious colour rise in her cheeks.
Business! his head reminded him.
‘I think long term we—or you lot—need to get the men’s programme up and running, and we can start planning it and working on how best to get men to attend. As far as attendance goes, we can contact people who already run these programmes to see if they’ve any ideas. But … ‘
He paused, aware he had their attention.
‘While outlining what we’re doing to get that up and running might impress the people who hold the purse-strings, maybe another project, one we could begin right now, would show we’re serious about running an integrated programme against domestic violence in the Cove. For a start, get the local council involved. I’ve noticed as I’ve travelled north that many towns have big signs on the highway where the town begins, saying domestic violence isn’t tolerated in this town, and a toll-free number to call for help.’
‘That’s a great idea,’ Lauren told him. ‘I’ll get on to the council.’
‘Actually, I can do that. I’ll talk to the mayor about it,’ Cam offered.
Jo was smiling at him—like a teacher pleased with her pupil?—but she wasn’t letting him stop there.
‘And?’ she prompted.
‘We should begin awareness programmes in the high schools—right now. This time of year, the final-year students have gone, but the lower years are still there and teachers are at their wits’ end, trying to keep their pupils occupied. I know this because army recruitment officers were always welcomed at the end of term time. We could offer to do a school programme focussing on violence.’
Jo caught on first.
‘You’re right. We need to get kids, especially adolescents, not only aware of DV but thinking seriously about how they handle anger. What do they see of violence? How do they think about it? How does it make them feel? We could do some role playing of appropriate and inappropriate behaviour, get the kids involved, the older ones in doing role plays and the younger ones making posters.’
‘We started working on something like that last year,’ Lauren said, looking directly at Tom for the first time, and colouring slightly.
Definitely something there, Cam confirmed to himself.
‘Just before schoolies,’ Tom offered. ‘Then all hell broke loose. We had that low off the coast, gale-force winds and rain, and some of the kids’ tents were blown away and both the hospital and the refuge became hostels for wet, stranded teenagers.’
‘Better weather forecast for this year,’ Mike said, but in such gloomy tones Cam had to ask.
‘Are they so bad, the schoolies? After all, they’re legally adults, most of them. They’re over eighteen when they leave school. Surely they don’t all run wild?’
‘Wait and see,’ Jo warned him, green eyes pinning him in place—distracting him. ‘Explaining schoolies is impossible, although, as an army man, maybe you can imagine it. Picture a couple of hundred new recruits turned loose for a week, alcohol flowing freely—binge drinking is apparently what you do to prove you’re an adult—some drugs, although Mike and his crew are very vigilant and we have a great sniffer dog wandering through the gatherings, and then there are hormonal girls and testosterone-laden youths and all the problems of love and lust.’
Cam rather wished she hadn’t mentioned testosterone and lust, but he set that distraction aside to concentrate on what he was learning.
‘We have a chill-out zone staffed with volunteers where kids feeling sick or lost or just in need of a hug can go. We have bottled water available all over the place, the council provides entertainment on the esplanade, local and imported bands, most nights, and generally speaking we’re really well prepared and organised,’ Lauren said, and Cam heard the but hanging at the end of the sentence.
‘Anyway, let’s tackle schoolies when we have to. For now, can we discuss Cam’s idea?’ Jo said. ‘He’s right in thinking we’d be welcomed at the high school. Lauren, have you got time to work with him on a rough outline for a programme? And maybe the two of you could do the first run, then whoever is available could do the other classes. I think having a man and a woman running each session makes it easier to do some simulated violence scenes and maybe if there’s time, we could talk about control issues as well—equate it to bullying, which is a big issue in schools these days.’
So, Jo’s palming me off onto Lauren, and from the look on Tom’s face he’s no happier about it than I am, Cam realised.
Than I am?
For crying out loud, what was happening to him?
I’m going soft on my boss, that’s what, he admitted to himself, and for some bizarre reason the admission sent a rush of heat through his body.
Jo was watching Cam’s face and, no, she wasn’t going to think about why her gaze had drifted that way, so she saw his reaction to her suggestion about him working with Lauren.
Puzzled? Yes, puzzlement was there, but also present was something that looked like suspicion. She hadn’t deliberately suggested they work together, had she?
Of course not, she’d suggested it because they both had psychology training so were the best suited for the job. Of course, Lauren was beautiful, and Jo had felt for a long time that Lauren needed a man in her life. No harm in bumping them together.
No harm at all and the squelchy feeling inside her at that thought actually confirmed it was a good idea. She’d had enough internal disturbances over Fraser Cameron.
‘We need get the programme organised first,’ Lauren suggested, then she smiled at Cam. ‘Your boss ever give you time off? If we’re going to put our heads together, it would suit me better during the day. With the cutbacks in funding I’m doing the night shift at the refuge. It’s not a late night for me, but after it I’m too drained to do any logical thinking.’
Cam turned to Jo and raised his eyebrows.
‘Tell me what time suits you, Lauren, and Cam can fit in,’ Jo said. ‘I didn’t know I’d have help this week so I’m palming patients off to him as they come in. We haven’t written any appointments up for him so far, so he wouldn’t be breaking any.’
Lauren mentioned a time, and Jo ran very efficiently through all the decisions they’d made and the jobs people had to do, listing Cam as the person to get in touch with people running existing men’s programmes and telling Lauren that as the chairman of the co-ordinating domestic violence scheme in the Cove she, Jo, would handle the applications for funding.
‘I think,’ she added, the little frown that creased her brow—one line only—attracting Cam’s attention, ‘that we have to rename ourselves. Being just a co-ordinating committee for the refuge has been fine up to now, but I think we need to show the funding bodies that we’re serious. We need to show we’re being proactive in dealing with domestic violence throughout the community, which is what we’ll be doing.’
‘How about the Domestic Violence Integrated Response Team?’ Mike suggested, showing Cam by his use of key words that he was an old hand at filling out forms for government agencies.
‘Not sure about the “Response”,’ Tom said. ‘Jo’s right, we’ve got to go beyond responding to situations if we want to prove our worth.’
‘Response and Prevention?’ Lauren offered. ‘After all, we do a lot of work with women to show them how to stay safe in their relationships.’
‘Let’s think about it,’ Jo said. ‘We’re on the right track and we’ve enough to go on with for now. But while we’re here, can we get back to schoolies? Mike, have you got enough volunteers for the chill-out zone?’
‘We’ve got the usual lot but can always use more.’
He turned to Cam.<
br />
‘You going to volunteer, mate?’ he asked. ‘Up to now, Tom and Jo have shared the call-out duties.’
‘Happy to do it,’ Cam said. ‘I imagine Jo can tell me where to be and when. She’s good that way, my boss.’
Jo decided to ignore him, although she’d heard the tease behind the words. Had anyone else heard it? Would it start speculation?
Not that there was anything to speculate on.
And why would that depress her?
‘Let’s all go to the pub for a bite to eat,’ she suggested, thinking a relaxing beer and a little light conversation with her friends might restore her equilibrium.
‘You’ll have to count me out,’ Tom said. ‘I’ve a patient coming in from a farm up in the hills, suspected broken collarbone. He’ll be arriving any minute.’
‘And I’m on duty at the refuge,’ Lauren said, ‘much as I’d have loved a relaxing evening with friends.’
Whether Mike was going to join them became a moot point when he answered his mobile.
‘Road accident,’ he said briefly. ‘No injuries but both drivers over the limit.’
He left the room as Tom also stood up and closed the file he’d had in front of him. He was watching Lauren as she, too, stood and Jo could see the concern on Tom’s face. He was as worried as she, Jo, was, about Lauren’s health. Her friend was driving herself to exhaustion.
‘I can do some evenings at the refuge,’ Jo offered. ‘Now I’ve got another doctor in the practice, I’m not nearly as busy, and Cam could take any late calls that come in if I’m not available.’
‘I can manage,’ Lauren said.
‘Not for much longer,’ Jo told her. ‘And I’m telling you that as your doctor as well as your friend.’
Lauren sighed. She waited until Tom had followed Mike out of the room, then said quietly, ‘You haven’t heard, have you?’
‘Heard what?’ Jo asked.
‘Nat Williams is coming home for Christmas. Bringing his American wife and their two kids—they’ll be here for a month.’
New Doc in Town / Orphan Under the Christmas Tree Page 12