The Doctor's Rebel Knight

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  Fran nodded in acquiescence, but after he left a minute or two later she wondered if he had been referring not just to the clinic but to their relationship.

  Relationship? she chided herself as she cleaned up the dishes from their meal. What relationship? All he had done was kiss her. Sure, he’d asked her for a meal the following evening, but it was far too early to be thinking in terms of whether he intended taking things further, as in regularly dating her.

  She loaded the dishwasher, her brow furrowed as she thought about the future. Even if she did date him, she wasn’t planning on staying in Pelican Bay longer than three months. Once the babies were home and in a routine Caro and Nick would need to get on with their lives without her intruding on their new family dynamics.

  Of course, she could find a little place by the sea; she had some money saved up, the victim compensation she had received from the court case would certainly leave her more or less debt free. Besides, her sister had made the change without a hiccup. But, then, Caro had fallen in love with Nick Atkins and would have followed him anywhere.

  Fran blew out a sigh as she closed the dishwasher. Was she falling in love? Just thinking about what had happened between Jacob and her earlier made her chest felt fluttery, as if a moth was trapped inside her chest. Her heart felt tight, as if a hand was squeezing it. And her stomach felt nervous and excited at the same time at the thought of spending tomorrow evening with him.

  Just the two of them.

  Alone.

  Chapter Eight

  AS THEY had arranged the evening before, Jacob met Fran outside the clinic on Friday morning. He got off his police bike, lifting the visor of his helmet to smile at her with his eyes. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi,’ she said shyly, nervously twisting her sweaty hands together.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked as he removed his helmet and placed it under his arm.

  ‘OK, I guess,’ Fran said. ‘It’s funny but since we had that talk last night I’ve felt a lot better about things…you know, the incident. It was the first time in ages I didn’t have a nightmare.’

  He briefly captured her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘That’s great progress, Fran. You’re a brave young woman.’

  Fran glowed under his praise and barely noticed the steps they took towards the clinic entrance.

  Linda looked up from the reception counter and immediately apologised for the crowd in the waiting room. ‘How’s your head, Dr Nin?’ she added before Fran could even respond to her apology. ‘I told the last five patients who came in that the whole day was already double booked, but do you think they would listen? They insisted, no, demanded to see you. I can turn them away if you don’t think you can handle it.’ Linda glanced past Fran to see Jacob standing there. ‘Sergeant? Don’t tell me you want an appointment as well?’

  Jacob smiled. ‘No, thanks, Linda, I’m in robust health. I’m just here to help Dr Nin get settled in. How about I show her through the clinic while you keep control of that phone?’

  Linda snorted and rolled her eyes as the phone rang yet again. ‘Good idea,’ she said. Picking up the phone, she answered, ‘Pelican Bay Clinic, Linda speaking.’

  Jacob gave Fran a tour of the clinic, checking to see how she was taking it as they went. She seemed calm on the surface, but every now and again her eyes would flicker and her body would stiffen until she snapped herself out of it.

  ‘That’s the kitchen out there and the bathroom to the right,’ he said. ‘The portable X-ray machine is in the other consulting room. This room is yours.’ He pushed open the door and waited for her to go in.

  Fran took a step inside, smelling the clinic smells, feeling a little of her anguish easing. ‘It’s certainly well contained,’ she said.

  ‘It’s not what you’re used to, by any means, but maybe right now that’s a good thing.’

  She turned and smiled at him. ‘Thanks for being here, for helping me settle in. I think I’ll be fine. I had a quick glance in the waiting room. I think most of the patients are probably here to get prescriptions filled, having been so long without a doctor in town.’

  ‘I’ll be out back if you need me,’ he said. ‘I have some calls to make to do with the hit and run.’

  ‘I don’t expect you to stay all day.’ She gave him a brave smile. ‘I’ll be fine. The worst is over now, I think.’

  He brushed a strand of her hair back from her face. ‘Don’t forget about our date tonight. Do you want me to pick you up?’

  ‘No, I’m not sure how long I will be here. Maybe it’s better if I come under my own steam.’

  He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the middle of her forehead. ‘I’m just a phone call away, don’t forget that, OK?’

  She smiled. ‘OK.’

  Fran made her way back to the waiting room and called out the first patient’s name. ‘Mrs Newman?’

  Kate Newman was a woman in her mid-fifties with chronic back pain. From what Fran quickly read in the notes, several procedures had been done with little improvement. Three bilateral facet blocks at L4 and L5 had been performed in Sydney but Kate was still in need of narcotic pain relief.

  ‘I’m nearly going crazy with this,’ she said, wincing as she shifted in the chair. ‘I can’t do half the things I used to do. I can’t even carry the washing out to the clothesline.’

  ‘Back pain is quite debilitating,’ Fran said. ‘I see here from the notes you have arthritis. You saw a specialist in January. Has anyone suggested you see the neurosurgeon again for a new assessment?’

  ‘There’s been no one here to suggest anything,’ Kate said. ‘The last doctor gave me a few repeats of the painkiller but I’m down to my last two tablets.’

  Fran reached for the prescription pad and once she had filled it out she quickly typed a referral letter on the computer on the desk. ‘I think it’s time you saw the specialist again for further advice on how to manage this disc,’ she said. ‘There are various things he might suggest, a discogram for one. That’s where they inject dye into the disc under X-ray to see how badly damaged it is. MRIs show us a lot of structural detail, but as you are lying down when the images are taken, they don’t always show the full story.’

  ‘Will I need surgery?’ Kate asked, her expression showing her trepidation. ‘The previous locum mentioned something about a fusion.’

  ‘It could be you will have to have a fusion done, or perhaps a disc replacement,’ Fran said. ‘The surgery is very successful in cases like yours. It’s just bad luck that disc is causing you so much trouble.’

  ‘I slipped going down a ramp at our beach-house a few years ago and came down heavily on my backside,’ Kate said. ‘I’ve had trouble ever since.’

  Fran handed her the letter of referral along with the prescription. ‘I hope you can get in to see the neurosurgeon quickly,’ she said. ‘He’s a very skilled man, one of the very best in his field. He operates at Sydney Metropolitan as well as a couple of private hospitals.’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ Kate said, wincing again as she rose from the chair. ‘It’s just so wonderful of you to fill in for us like this. How are your sister and the babes?’

  ‘They’re doing well,’ Fran answered. ‘I talked to her on the phone earlier. She would love to be home with them both, of course, but that’s not possible just yet.’

  ‘I had a premmie,’ Kate said, placing her handbag strap over her shoulder. ‘My firstborn son. Rob is now thirty years old and six foot tall and ninety kilos. He was the length of that pen of yours when he was born and weighed less than five hundred grams. No one thought he would make it.’

  Fran smiled as she moved across to open the consultingroom door for Kate. It was so good to hear of the successes. She had seen all too many of the not so successful. ‘It’s amazing how well the little ones get on, especially with all the technological advances in neonatal care,’ she said. ‘I hope things go well with the neurosurgical consult, Mrs Newman. Come back any time if you need more pain relief.’ />
  Kate’s brown eyes lit up. ‘You mean you’re thinking of staying permanently?’

  Fran’s smile faded. ‘Um…no. I…um…haven’t made any firm commitment as yet…’

  ‘Well, I think you’d be perfect for the position,’ Kate said warmly. ‘I’ve heard nothing but nice things about you. Not only that, you’ve already got family here. Believe you me, that counts for a heck of a lot. My Rob and James and Tim all live interstate. I miss them so much and with my back the way it is, I haven’t been able to travel so often to see them. Think about it, Dr Nin, please?’

  ‘I will,’ Fran said. ‘It’s just a big decision and I don’t want to rush into anything.’

  ‘Of course, it would make it easier for you if there was a young man here to tempt you into staying,’ Kate said with a twinkling look. ‘I saw that handsome Sergeant Hawke come into the clinic with you earlier. Are you and he an item?’

  Fran could feel her colour rising. ‘Oh, no, nothing like that,’ she said, perhaps too quickly, a little too fervently.

  ‘He’s only been here a few months but he’s already done so much for the community,’ Kate said. ‘He organised a working bee for the Pelican Bay children’s park. He got rid of the old and dangerous rusty swings and slide, and with a couple of the other men, including my husband Bill, built a whiz-bang climbing frame and cubby house. You’ve got to love a man who’s good with his hands, don’t you think?’

  ‘Um…yes…’

  Kate was still smiling as she left and Fran was still blushing as she picked up the next patient’s file. Jacob was on his mobile and gave Fran a quick glance as he came through Reception. He covered the phone and spoke to her out of earshot of Linda and the waiting room. ‘Sorry, Fran, I’ve got to get back to the station to see to something urgent. I can send Constable Jeffrey over if you’d like.’

  Fran shook her head. ‘No, that’s not necessary. I’m doing really well. I spoke with Linda a few minutes ago. Most of the patients just want prescriptions renewed.’

  ‘I’ll see you later, then,’ he said, and, lifting his hand in a wave at Linda, left the clinic.

  Fran let out a fluttering little breath and turned to face the waiting room. ‘Tara Clark?’ she called, scanning the area for the thin girl she had met at the general store a few days ago.

  Tara was at the back of the waiting room, again dressed in loose-fitting black clothes in spite of the heat. On hearing her name called, she passed through the waiting-room crowd like a wraith, her head down, her bony shoulders like the wings of a bird.

  ‘Hi, Tara,’ Fran said as she led the way to the consulting room, closing the door firmly once they were inside. ‘I met you the other day at the general store.’

  Tara’s dark gaze flicked away from Fran’s as she sat on the edge of the seat near the desk. ‘Yeah, I remember.’

  ‘What can I do for you?’ Fran asked, after quickly glancing at the notes. The file was thin, like Tara. One-sheet-of-paper thin. The last time she had been to the clinic had been more than three years ago when she’d been thirteen.

  ‘I need something to help me sleep,’ the young girl mumbled, without meeting Fran’s gaze.

  Fran felt alarm bells start to clang inside her head. ‘You’re quite young to be experiencing insomnia. How long have you had trouble with sleeping, Tara?’

  A thin shoulder came up and went down in a shrug. ‘A while.’

  Fran mentally drummed her fingers on the desk. She knew from what Beryl had said in one of her recent gossip sessions that Tara lived on an outlying property with her father and brother. Her mother had left Tara’s father for another man. The community had been shocked that a mother would abandon her children. Nola Clark hadn’t wanted custody, she hadn’t even wanted access visits. She had made a new life with her lover in another state, and apart from the occasional birthday card, which usually arrived late, she made no effort to contact her son and daughter.

  Fran couldn’t think of how different her upbringing had been. Her parents were still devoted to each other and her and Caro, their love totally unconditional and unending. They were even at this minute coming home early from their muchanticipated and meticulously planned trip abroad to be with Caro and the babies, putting their lives on hold just as they had for Fran when she had been attacked.

  ‘Tara,’ Fran began carefully, ‘sleep medication is meant to be a very temporary thing to reset your body sleep rhythms. But if you are not sleeping and haven’t been for a while, it might be better in the long term if you talked to someone about what might be causing the insomnia.’

  Tara’s smoky eyes hit hers. ‘I’m not going to a counsellor,’ she said with an adamant set to her mouth. ‘Anyway, there isn’t one here.’

  ‘No, I know, but there are good people in Wollongong and—’

  ‘I’m not going to talk to anyone.’ This time the girl’s tone was even more strident.

  Fran quickly back-pedalled. ‘OK, I understand. It’s not easy talking to complete strangers about very personal stuff.’

  ‘It’s not about her,’ Tara said with a curl of her lip over the word.

  Fran waited a beat. ‘Your mother, you mean?’

  The smoky eyes burned with bitterness. ‘I hate her. She left my dad. She wrecked his life. She wrecked all of our lives.’

  Fran felt the girl’s pain coming off her in waves of negative energy. She could see the little child inside the teenage body. The little lost girl who probably still cried for her mother at night. The little girl who had felt she had to step up into her mother’s role and take care of her brother and devastated father. The little girl who was trying to find her place in the world as a young woman, but not quite making it.

  ‘Tara,’ she said gently. ‘I noticed the other day you have some scars on your wrists.’

  Tara’s expression darkened defensively. ‘So?’

  ‘Do you want to tell me about how you got them?’

  Tara held Fran’s gaze for a full thirty seconds before she finally dropped hers, her voice coming out in a fractured whisper. ‘I can’t help it…I just have to do it…It gets rid of the pain…’

  Fran swallowed the ridge of emotion that had risen in her throat. It was so important to keep in control clinically but this young girl was such a tragic case. Her isolation added to her pain, making Fran suddenly realise how significant it was that Tara had made the appointment to see her. She had to handle this carefully; she had this one chance to build up trust and rapport so the young girl could share some of the burdens she carried. ‘Self-mutilation is very common, Tara,’ she said, ‘especially in your age group.’

  Tara’s eyes met hers. ‘Is it?’

  Fran nodded. ‘Of course it’s not an ideal way to handle stress but it’s a well-recognised one.’ She waited a beat before continuing. ‘It’s a bit like nail-biting. It becomes a habit that’s hard to break. It’s important to get control of it, though. Talking about the issues that are worrying you is probably the best approach. I know you don’t want to involve a counsellor but maybe we can come to some arrangement.’

  Fran didn’t stop to think of the propriety of what she was about to propose, she felt too compelled to do something, anything, to help this young girl. ‘I’m not planning on working here at the clinic, I’m just filling in for the one day, but I will be in town for the next couple of months. We can just meet up informally, you know, go for walks on the beach, chat about stuff, anything you like, in total confidence.’

  Tara shifted in her seat, her eyes going to the scars on her wrists, as if checking to see if they were still there. After a moment she looked up with those pain-filled eyes of hers to meet Fran’s. ‘I hate myself,’ she said. ‘I’ve always felt if I was different, she wouldn’t have left.’

  ‘A lot of kids blame themselves when their parents break up,’ Fran said softly. ‘But adults have issues kids often know very little about, issues that usually go way back to before the kids were born.’

  Tara flicked her tongue
across her paper-dry, pale, anaemic-looking lips. ‘I’m worried about my dad. He punched Sergeant Hawke in the face the other day.’ She looked at Fran with fear shadowing her eyes. ‘I’m worried he might send my dad to jail.’

  Fran felt something shift inside her chest. ‘I can speak to Sergeant Hawke if you like,’ she said. ‘Would you like me to do that?’

  ‘Would you?’ Tara asked, hope like a tiny candle flame flickering in her eyes.

  Fran smiled. ‘Of course I don’t mind. Sergeant Hawke strikes me as the sort of man who would be very understanding about what’s been going on at home. Leave it with me, Tara.’

  She reached for a tourniquet and a syringe. ‘Now, let’s run a couple of blood tests on you to see what your haemoglobin level is and your iron levels and stuff. You might be anaemic, which will make you feel tired during the day, which in turn could influence how well you sleep at night. The new doctor who eventually takes up the position can follow you up if you need supplements.’

  Tara reluctantly rolled up her sleeve and Fran’s stomach gave a savage clench as she saw the criss-cross of scars that went almost up to the elbow. She carefully drew up the blood, chatting to Tara as she capped each sample tube. The girl seemed to relax a little as the consultation went on, and after Fran had organised a walk on the beach in a few days’ time, Tara even stretched her pale lips into a tentative smile.

  Fran chewed the end of her pen once Tara had left. She hoped she was doing the right thing in organising informal contact with the young teenager. At least she could talk to Jacob about it, she thought. Perhaps he would know how best to deal with the situation.

  She put the pen down and ran her tongue across her lips, remembering how wonderful it had felt to have his mouth on hers. She sat dreamily for several moments until the intercom buzzed her out of her reverie.