by Fiona Lowe
‘Did you ever feel bloated after eating?’ Will rubbed his hand along his jaw.
Brittany looked a bit embarrassed. ‘Um, no, but I got the squirts.’
‘Diarrhoea?’
She nodded. ‘It’s been a bit of a problem lately.’
Meg started making mental notes—unable to sleep, massive appetite, mood swings. Could it be bipolar disorder?
Will shifted in his chair. ‘Do you ever have times when all that restless energy drains from you?’
Brittany’s eyes lit up in recognition. ‘Yes, how did you know? Some days I bound out of bed and other days I just can’t get up and fatigue sticks to me like clingwrap.’
Will leaned forward slightly. ‘How long does that fatigue last for?’
Brittany thought for a moment. ‘Maybe about a day or so and then I’m fine again, but it makes planning hard ’cos I don’t know if that day is going to be a bad day or not.’
‘Tell me about a bad day,’ Will’s soft tone encouraged.
Brittany’s expression of gratitude streaked across her face. Someone was truly listening. ‘My heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s going to bound right out of my chest. I love to exercise but lately just walking up a flight of stairs leaves me breathless.’ She started to fan herself. ‘And I get so hot even on cold days that I’m giving the antiper-spirant a run for its money.’
She gave a brittle laugh. ‘Mum’s the one supposed to be going through menopause, not me.’ She bit her lip. ‘It’s driving me crazy. I think I’m going crazy. Don’t you?’
Will shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think you’re going crazy. I think you have a medical condition and we’re going to work out what it is.’
Meg flicked through Brittany’s file while Will continued to interview their patient. The family history section was scant as Brittany’s previous clinic visits had mostly been for contraception.
‘Brittany, you’ve had these symptoms at uni but did they start on the farm?’ Meg started to think about water supply on the farm.
‘No, I only started to feel unwell at uni.’
Meg’s mind started to race. ‘Where are you living at uni?’
Brittany looked at her as if she had two heads. ‘In halls of residence, but living there wouldn’t be causing all this stuff.’
Will gave Meg a direct look and a thread of understanding wove between them, connecting them.
They were on the same wavelength. The feeling was indescribable and a flush of heat whizzed through Meg.
Will voiced Meg’s next question. ‘What sort of job are you doing to keep yourself in pin money?’
Brittany groaned. ‘I’m cleaning. It’s awful but the money is really good.’
Meg slid off the table. ‘I suppose you’re using a lot of disinfectants.’
‘Of course. Mum taught me the only way to clean is to use a lot of Shine O Kleen. I go through litres of the stuff but I’ve got happy customers.’
Will shifted suddenly in his chair. ‘Meg, do you have a bottle of that disinfectant here?’
‘I’ll go and look.’ She walked over to the cleaning cupboard under the sink and rummaged until she found a bottle. She quickly scanned the contents listed on the side. ‘It contains iodine.’
Will gave her a nod of thanks, a smile tugging at his lips.
She wanted to hug that smile to her but she knew it was just a smile from a colleague sharing the satisfaction of making a diagnosis. A colleague who would be driving back to Melbourne very soon. Her stolen half-hour with Will, which she’d shared with Brittany, was about to end. He would leave and this time he had no reason to return. The knowledge sat like a lead weight in her belly.
Now she only had memories. They would have to be enough.
Will stood up, all action and intent. His brain was on fire with the challenge of a tricky diagnosis. He loved the jigsaw of medicine, putting the pieces together and coming up with the diagnosis. The last half an hour had been more exciting than anything he’d done in the last six months of pen-pushing.
And then there was Meg. The gorgeous Meg. They’d just shared a mental place in space, coming to the diagnosis at the same moment. The exhilaration of that instant had zinged through him, bringing back to life feelings he hadn’t realised he’d missed.
Together they’d pretty much nailed the diagnosis. Now he just had to confirm the history with the examination. ‘Brittany, I need to examine you. Can you slip your shoes off as well?’
‘Sure thing, Doc.’ Brittany hopped up onto the examining table.
Will did a thorough examination of Brittany from top to toe, noting her slightly swollen eyes and rapid pulse.
Meg walked over just as he was examining Brittany’s ankles.
‘Coarse and reddened skin on the shins.’ Meg ran her fingers lightly over Brittany’s foot.
Will met her azure gaze and a shot of heat ripped through him. ‘Well noted.’ The words came out husky and formal. What the hell was wrong with him?
Brittany reached down to her ankle. ‘Yeah, what’s that about? I put cream on them every night and nothing fixes it.’
Will pulled Brittany into a sitting position and threw a blanket around her shoulders. ‘Based on your symptoms, we think you have a condition called Graves’s disease.’
Brittany gripped the blanket, her knuckles white. ‘What’s that? It sounds deadly.’
Will gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It’s not deadly. It was named after the doctor who discovered the condition, Robert Graves. It’s when your thyroid goes haywire and secretes too much thyroxine into your blood supply. This is what has been causing the palpitations, the hot flushes and all your other symptoms. Your body is in a constant state of hyper-alert and it’s exhausting you.’
‘But why?’
Meg glanced at Will for a brief moment before resting her hand on Brittany’s knee. ‘Sometimes it runs in families and we can find that out by interviewing your mum and dad. In other instances the condition can be sparked off by environmental things. The cleaning product you have been using is very high in iodine.’
‘So if I stop using that stuff I’ll go back to being normal?’ The disbelief in the girl’s voice mirrored the expression on her face.
Will shook his head. ‘It might not be that simple. First of all you need to have a blood test for a definitive diagnosis and then I’ll start you on medication.’
Meg picked up a tourniquet. ‘Brittany, I can take the blood now and have it couriered to Winston and we can have the results back in about three hours.’
The young woman nodded. ‘So, Dr C., you’re going to be in Laurelton for a while, right, to help me get sorted?’
‘Dr Cameron is only visiting Laurelton today, Brittany.’ Meg briskly slid the tourniquet over Brittany’s arm and didn’t look at Will.
‘Oh, but I don’t want to see another doctor.’
Brittany’s look of disappointment speared Will.
Suddenly her face took on a coquettish look. ‘You know, Laurelton is gorgeous at this time of year, Doc, a perfect place for a working holiday.’
Will was sorry to disappoint her but him staying in Laurelton wasn’t an option. ‘I agree it’s a beautiful place but—’
Brittany’s hands suddenly moved to her hips and her jaw jutted. ‘Besides, Meg needs some help—surely you can see that.’ Brittany’s green eyes stared him down, unflinching.
A twinge of conscience caught him. Meg worked extremely hard and mostly on her own.
Brittany switched her gaze to Meg. ‘You’re always on the lookout for a doctor, aren’t you, Meg?’
Confusion swept through Meg’s eyes. ‘Yes, Laurelton always needs a doctor but—’
‘So what’s the problem?’ The logic of the young bore down on him. ‘If you’ve got no plans, surely you can stay for a while?’
The thought he’d rejected out of hand a moment ago rolled around in his head. His parents had insisted he take a month off work to recover from the crash, and although he p
lanned to return tomorrow, no one was expecting him. Perhaps he could stay in Laurelton for a bit and be a doctor again for a few weeks. Take the chance while he could before he had to return to Camerons, balance sheets and business plans.
Meg finally spoke, confusion replaced with a streak of calculation. ‘Working here wouldn’t be all bad. You could combine a few weeks’ doctoring here with some schmoozing on the mountain for research money. You could give something back to Laurelton after all those years of skiing.’ She tilted her head and raised her brows, challenging him.
Slow, banked heat burst into life inside him, the flames flicking along his veins. Two sets of eyes bored into him. They had him over a barrel. He’d look a right bastard if he walked away. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Yeah, I guess I could do that. I can give you three weeks.’
‘Excellent.’ Brittany whooped. ‘Just as well I was here. You two are hopeless at organising anything.’
Meg’s tinkling laugh washed over him.
Suddenly the reality of what he’d just committed himself to hit him straight in the chest. Working in Laurelton meant working with Meg. Seeing her every day, breathing in her scent and listening to her melodic voice. Doing all that and staying detached.
How the hell did he do that?
CHAPTER FIVE
MEG locked the clinic door and let the bunch of keys that hung from a bright lanyard around her neck drop back against her chest. It was hometime.
Funny how some sayings stayed with you from childhood. Didn’t matter which job she was in, she always thought of the end of the day as hometime.
She reversed the car out of the driveway and headed down the main street, the Avenue of Honour. The bare plain trees showed all the signs of buds about to explode with bright green hopeful shoots. Spring was coming to Laurelton.
And so was Will.
Sometimes her mouth ran way ahead of her brain and this afternoon was no exception. Agreeing with Brittany and suggesting Will stay for a few weeks, what had she been thinking?
She tossed her head. She’d been thinking of her patients. It had been a blessing he’d been in town today. It had saved Brittany a trip to Winston, a trip Meg wasn’t certain she would have made after her last experience with a doctor.
All Laurelton residents deserved to have a doctor even if it was only for a few weeks.
That was what her job was all about. Looking after Laurelton.
Sure, you were thinking about your patients but you were thinking about yourself, too. The dreaded rational voice piped up.
She hated to admit it but she hadn’t wanted Will to leave. Since the plane crash she’d been uneasy, on edge. From the moment she’d heard his voice today she’d relaxed.
She loved listening to him, hearing his melodic tones range over words, the sound of the grin in his voice when something amused him, the caring intonation he’d used with Brittany that afternoon.
When she was with him she experienced a kind of calm she hadn’t known since before she’d met Graeme. It was as if Will understood her.
She grimaced at the thought, knowing it to be way off track, an idea that only existed in her imagination. The reality was that in the snow cave she’d blown her chance to find out about him by jumping to conclusions. She still cringed when she thought about her behaviour.
So there was no shared understanding between them. And today had proved that when she’d tried to draw him out on his job and his father, and he’d gone quiet on her. All they had in common was the fact they’d shared a life-and-death situation. And now they shared the stress of the aftermath.
Really, they were only colleagues.
That was all it ever could be. They came from different worlds and had different expectations of life. A caring man like Will would want marriage and a family. She couldn’t offer him that. Graeme had stolen that dream from her.
Will would turn up each day, run the clinic and then hang out with his mates on the mountain. She would only see him at work. Which was a good thing. It kept things organised and uncomplicated.
A few minutes later her car shuddered over the cattle grid, the familiar thump, thump, thump heralding she was home. She was looking forward to sitting on the couch and doing nothing. The bookings for the B&B had been solid most of the season but the weekend guests were not arriving until Saturday so she had a night off.
As she rounded the final bend of bush track, the large red corrugated-iron roof of the farmhouse, with its four brick chimneys, came into view. In traditional Australian design, the roof extended to create a large veranda that surrounded the house, essential for the hot high-country summers that always seemed so at odds with the winter snow.
She loved this house. Every groan of the floorboards, every squeak of the gate, and the family history that lived in its memories.
No cars were parked in the car park. Great—no last-minute guests. Her black Labrador, Jet, bounded over to her as she got out of the car, looked up at her with huge brown eyes, and immediately nuzzled her hand.
Unconditional love. She’d decided a long time ago that humans could learn a lot from dogs.
‘Hi, girl, how’s your day been? Dug any bones?’
Jet ran around her, eager to please but with one eye in the direction of the food bowl.
Meg laughed. ‘You wouldn’t be hungry, would you?’ She jogged to the veranda, Jet by her side, and pulled open the fly-screen door. Dumping her large carryall next to the boot box, she grabbed the dog food out of the old fridge and emptied it into Jet’s bowl. As she stood up, her head hit a coat and the smell of oiled japara stung her nostrils.
The walls of the ‘mud-room’ were lined with hooks. Waterproof jackets, backpacks, riding gear and hats all hung waiting to be grabbed as people walked out the back door. The old fly-wire door used to slam a hundred times a day when she’d been a kid.
It didn’t slam quite so much anymore and guests used the front door. She suppressed a sigh. The house needed kids. In the school holidays her nieces and nephews would visit, but in between times it was too quiet.
She walked into the kitchen. Her mother sat at the end of the enormous scrubbed wooden table, reading the paper. Her elbow crutches leaned against her chair. She looked tired and drawn, older than her sixty-two years.
‘Hi, Mum.’ Meg headed over to the large porcelain sink and washed her hands, then dried them on the towel that hung under the bench.
Eleanor looked up and smiled. ‘Hello, darling. I hear that Brittany finally came to see you. Lucky you had that doctor visiting at the time.’ She closed the paper.
Meg swung around in surprise and looked her mother. ‘I see the Laurelton bush telegraph is working well.’
Eleanor smiled, refusing to be diverted from the topic in hand. ‘Where is he from?’
‘Melbourne.’ She had no idea why but she really didn’t want to talk about Will to her mother.
‘He was the doctor on the plane, wasn’t he? Will Cameron?’ She put her reading glasses on the table. ‘Sheryl recognised him from the paper. It was good of him to come to Tom’s funeral.’
Meg nodded. Will wasn’t anything like the man she’d thought he was. Unlike Graeme, he genuinely cared for people. ‘He’d flown with Tom for years.’
‘Brittany and her mother were raving about him. He sounds delightful.’ Her mother gave her a long look.
Meg recognised that look. It was the ‘you need a man’ look that her mother and half of Laurelton specialised in. A rush of self-preservation shot through her. Men meant pain. She was not going to put herself out there ever again to experience that sort of grief. She had the farm. She had her job. It had to be enough.
She walked over to the fridge. ‘What’s for dinner? I’m starving. I plan to eat and then blob on the couch and watch a happy movie with a happy ending.’
‘Sorry, sweetheart, we’ve got a guest.’
Meg suppressed a sigh. The farm needed the income but tonight she had so wanted the house to be guest-free. The idea of the mo
vie evaporated. She’d be making beds and getting the guests settled. ‘I didn’t see a car when I drove up.’
‘No, you wouldn’t have, it’s a bit early.’ Her mother’s voice sounded brisk.
‘I’ll go and make up some beds, then.’
‘No, do that later.’ Her mother stood up and grabbed her crutches. ‘You go and get freshened up and I’ll get dinner happening.’ She shooed Meg away by pointing a crutch.
Slightly confused as to the unusual order of things but happy to have a shower, Meg laughed. ‘OK, who am I to argue with the boss?’ She recognised when her mother meant business and knew there was no point objecting.
Ten minutes later, feeling refreshed by the warm water and the loofah rub, she was about to dry her hair when she heard a staccato knock on the front door. Her room was closest to the door. ‘I’ll get it,’ she called, to save her mother the long walk from the kitchen.
The dull thud of crutches ricocheted up the hall. ‘That’s fine, honey, you finish drying your hair. I’ll get it.’
First she had been instructed to have a shower, now to dry her hair. What was going on here? ‘Don’t be silly, Mum, I’m right here.’ She pulled open the front door. ‘Welcome to Big Hill Fa—’
Holding a large suitcase, a laptop and a saddle, stood Will Cameron. Surprise raced across his face, which he quickly schooled into an impassive expression.
Her stomach flipped over as she struggled to regain her composure.
Eleanor moved past a stunned Meg. ‘So you found us all right, Will? My directions were pretty straightforward. Wonderful, come on in.’
Realisation streaked through Meg. Her mother had just called Will by name. Her mother had known all along that Will was the guest and hadn’t told her. Some time after Will had left the clinic, her mum, Brittany Chambers’s mother and Sheryl Jettison had cooked up a plan. And she and Will were the main course.
Meg stood in front of him, fresh-faced and wholesome, dressed in jeans and an Arran jumper. Her curls, some damp and clinging to her face, others exploding into clusters as they dried, made her look about sixteen.