She took a small breath, aware that she was trembling after her impassioned outburst. What Jack Trent thought of it she had no idea because it was a few moments before he spoke, and even then his tone gave away nothing about his feelings.
‘In that case I shall look forward to seeing you on Thursday, Ms Andrews. Goodbye.’
He’d hung up before she could reply. Meg slowly replaced the receiver, wishing momentarily that she hadn’t said what she had. But why not? She’d meant every word and she hoped that Dr Jack Trent had taken note of it. Whether he liked the idea or not, she would be at the airport on Thursday. She could hardly wait!
‘Jack Trent! Not the Jack Trent I saw on television last night?’
Meg was on a late that day and had been getting changed to go on duty when her friend, Maggie Carr, arrived for work. Meg had just finished regaling Maggie with what had happened that morning and had to admit that she was surprised by what her friend had said.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t watch television last night because I made a start on painting the kitchen,’ she replied, frowning.
Maggie dragged her sweater over her head then shook back her hair. She and Meg were complete opposites in colouring. Maggie’s olive skin and black hair hinted at her Mediterranean ancestry whereas Meg, with her long blonde hair, delicately fair complexion and deep blue eyes, was a typical English rose. Now Meg hid a smile as she saw her friend roll her eyes in a gesture reminiscent of her Italian mother. They were opposites in temperament as well as looks—because if she was noted for her even temper then Maggie was renowned for her fiery one!
‘Typical! I might have known you’d miss it!’ Maggie declared, stepping into a pair of blue cotton uniform pants. ‘Anyway, it has to be the same guy—tall, good-looking, extremely good-looking, in fact, all sort of mean and moody, if you know what I mean?’
Meg raised her brows. ‘Mean and moody? I don’t know if that’s how I would have described him, although, on second thoughts, maybe you’re right.’
She pulled a blue cotton V-necked top over her head and smoothed it down her slim hips. ‘He certainly didn’t come across as all that welcoming when I spoke to him this morning. In fact, I got the distinct impression that Dr Trent had reservations about asking me to go on this trip.’
‘Really?’ Maggie was brushing her hair but she stopped to stare at Meg. ‘Why do you say that? I mean, you’ve loads of experience thanks to working on the surgical wards and, from what I heard him saying last night, surgery is going to play a major part on this trip. Isn’t he some sort of eye specialist?’
‘That’s right. Evidently, he works at St Augustine’s as well as being a director of the aid agency. He’s head of the ophthalmology unit there. I believe he also spends a lot of his time lecturing, both here and abroad.’
‘Busy man from the sound of it. Must make it difficult for him to find time for a private life.’ Maggie twisted her hair into a knot and pinned it in place. ‘Pity! He looked rather a dish to me, but you can’t go by appearances, can you? You tell him where to get off, Meg, if he tries giving you a hard time. To my mind, he’s lucky to have got you!’
Meg laughed as she slid her feet into a pair of comfortable rubber-soled clogs. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence! Can I have it in writing, please, just in case I need it in the next three months?’
‘You aren’t really worried that you might?’ Maggie had been heading out of the staffroom door but she paused to look worriedly at her friend. Meg shrugged, feigning a nonchalance she wished she felt as she slipped past her friend and hurried towards the ward.
‘Not really,’ she fibbed, pushing open the swing doors and smiling at Mrs Watkins who was in the first bed. ‘As you say, I’ll soon put Jack Trent in his place.’
‘Attagirl! Good morning, Mrs Watkins. How are you today?’ Maggie asked as they both automatically stopped beside the middle-aged woman’s bed. Joan Watkins loved to chat, and all the staff made a point of stopping to have a word with her whenever they could spare the time. A widow whose grown-up children lived abroad, she had few visitors to break the monotony of her day.
She had been admitted as an emergency case, suffering from an obstruction of the colon. A temporary colostomy had been performed until she was well enough to have the blocked section removed, and all the staff had been impressed by her cheerfulness and positive attitude. Now she looked curiously at Meg.
‘Morning, girls. Who were you talking about just now? Your boyfriend, was it, love? Is he giving you a hard time, then?’
Meg chuckled wryly. ‘No, he isn’t my boyfriend! He’s someone I’m going to be working with for the next few months.’ She quickly filled Joan in on the details of her trip, smiling when the woman shuddered.
‘Oh, I don’t think I’d fancy doing that! You never know what you’ll catch, going to those sorts of places. What made you decide to apply for the job? Don’t you enjoy working here?’
‘I love it,’ Meg replied sincerely. ‘Both the work and the people I work with. I just feel that I want to try something different, use my skills to help people who so desperately need helping, and this seems the ideal way to go about it. I can work overseas for the aid agency, knowing that I still have my job here to come back to.’
‘But how about your young man—what does he think about you going to a place like that? I bet he doesn’t like the idea,’ Joan persisted, obviously not convinced it was the right thing to do.
‘I don’t have a ‘‘young man’’. Or an old one for that matter!’ Meg laughed. ‘I’m fancy-free at the moment and can do whatever I like. That’s another reason why the time is right for me to take on a job like this. I don’t have commitments at present but all that could change in a couple of years’ time. I couldn’t imagine leaving behind a husband and family while I flew off to the other side of the world to work.’
‘Well, I expect you know what you’re doing,’ Joan conceded reluctantly. ‘So when do you leave?’
‘Thursday evening,’ Meg replied, lifting Joan’s chart off the end of her bed and glancing through it.
‘And are they giving you a send-off, then?’ Joan turned to Maggie. ‘Surely you’ve got something planned to mark the occasion?’
‘We hadn’t but we soon will have! Great idea, Mrs Watkins. Why didn’t I think of it?’ Maggie shook her head as Meg opened her mouth. ‘Don’t waste your breath. I’m going to give you a send-off to remember!’
Meg groaned. ‘Why do I have the feeling that I am going to regret this?’
She did regret it! On the way to the airport late Thursday afternoon, Meg couldn’t think of anything she regretted more, in fact. She’d had only a few hours’ sleep the night before and she felt completely exhausted. Between getting ready for the trip, finishing her decorating and working till eleven the previous night it had been a hectic couple of days.
Even when she’d finished work the previous night, that hadn’t been the end of it. Maggie had rounded up a bunch of their friends and had dragged everyone off to a nightclub where she’d insisted that Meg have a glass of sparkling wine to toast her departure.
After a couple of hectic hours of dancing, Meg had pleaded tiredness as her excuse to leave, only everyone had suddenly decided that a curry would be the perfect ending to the night. Unfortunately, it seemed in imminent danger of making its reappearance so she was thankful when the taxi pulled up outside the departure terminal. Hopefully, a breath of fresh air would make her feel better…
‘Where the hell have you been? I thought I told you to be here well before we were due to fly out?’
Maybe he hadn’t really shouted but to Meg’s sensitive ears it certainly felt as though he had. She turned slowly around and stared at Jack Trent, noting almost idly how angry he looked. Why? Because she’d turned up only five minutes before the alloted time? Or because she’d turned up at all?
‘It is five minutes to four, Dr Trent,’ she said as coolly as she could, because that last thought had stung. ‘I wouldn’t h
ave thought there was any cause for concern just yet.’
‘Wouldn’t you indeed? Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Ms Andrews. As it happens, our flight has been brought forward and we’re due to leave in less than an hour’s time. So, if you wouldn’t mind getting yourself inside, we can check in your luggage.’
He turned to walk inside the building but Meg stopped him by dint of a well-placed hand on his arm. Her fingers closed around the hard biceps and even though she was annoyed she couldn’t help noticing just how very hard it was. That Jack Trent was in superb physical condition couldn’t be disputed. However, his attitude left a lot to be desired!
He swung round to stare at her, his cold grey eyes dropping deliberately to where her hand was still attached to his arm. However, Meg refused to release him until she was good and ready. She certainly didn’t intend to let him think she was afraid of him!
‘What have you got against me, Dr Trent? It’s obvious that you aren’t one hundred per cent happy about me coming on this trip, and I think I deserve to know why, don’t you?’
She was quite pleased with the tone of her voice which had sounded both firm and nicely controlled to her ears. However, if Jack Trent was impressed he gave little sign. His mouth curled into what could only be classed as a sneer as he took stock of her tired face.
‘In that case, Ms Andrews, I may as well be honest and say that I was against you being hired. If it had been left solely to me then you would never have been taken on by the agency in the first place.’
The bluntness of that statement cleared her head more effectively than anything else could have done. Meg stared at him in consternation. ‘Why not? You saw my references and I know for a fact that they were excellent. I also have several years’ experience on one of the most demanding wards in the hospital, so how can you say that?’
‘Because it’s the truth.’ He gave a sharp downward thrust of his hand when she went to speak. It had the added effect of dislodging her hand. Meg let it fall to her side as she stared at him with troubled blue eyes that reflected her hurt and confusion.
He looked away and there was an odd note in his voice all of a sudden, almost as though he might have regretted speaking so bluntly. However, there was no softening to his attitude, Meg realised sickly when he continued.
‘I don’t believe that you will cope, Ms Andrews. That’s it in a nutshell. It makes no difference how good your references are or how much experience you have—I just don’t think that you will be able to handle this kind of work. It is a whole different ball game, working overseas, compared to where you’ve worked in the past.’
‘I know that! I understand that we’ll be working under less than ideal conditions if that’s what you’re concerned about.’
‘I don’t think anyone can truly understand what the conditions will be like until they’ve experienced them at first hand,’ he stated coldly. ‘Oh, I expect you’ve seen TV coverage of aid work but that’s sanitised for the viewers’ consumption. Actually, dealing with all the hardships and unpleasantness is an entirely different matter, believe me.’
‘I do believe you! I know that I have a lot to learn but I’m willing to try. Why can’t you at least give me the benefit of the doubt?’
‘Because there isn’t room on a trip like this for a passenger. We need everyone to pull his or her weight from the outset,’ he snapped back.
‘I shall pull my weight!’ she retorted, whipping up her anger because his words had hurt so much. Maybe it was the combination of the late duty, the decorating, the night out—not to mention the curry—that were all taking their toll, but she felt a lump come to her throat. However, she would walk over hot coals rather than let Jack Trent see that he’d upset her!
‘What if I prove you wrong, prove that I can cope with this type of work?’
‘Then I shall apologise, Ms Andrews. Now, if you’re ready?’ He picked up her bag, leaving Meg to follow him into the airport building.
She squared her shoulders, although she felt rather like a prisoner on her way to the gallows must have felt. Three months of working with a man who thought she wasn’t up to the job and would be waiting his chance to take her to task didn’t sound like a very appealing prospect! It was only the thought of the satisfaction it would give him if she backed out at this stage that firmed her resolve.
Forget the apology. Jack Trent was going to eat a large slice of humble pie at the end of this trip if she had anything to do with it!
CHAPTER TWO
THE journey seemed to take for ever so that Meg lost track of the hours they’d spent travelling. After they landed in Johannesburg they took an internal flight which just seemed to go on and on.
Meg knew that everyone was exhausted by the time they landed for the second time at a tiny airfield at the edge of the bush, but there was still another leg of the journey to undergo before they stopped for the night. Three small trucks were waiting to collect them and their equipment and ferry them to the Oncamban border, a good thirty miles away, where they would spend the night. Hopefully the next day they would complete their journey and board the train.
‘Oh, how I hate this bit!’
Lesley Johnson, one of the two other nurses with whom Meg would be working, sighed as she plonked herself down on top of a packing case. A pleasant woman in her mid-forties, with bright red hair and a face full of freckles, she had gone out of her way to make Meg feel welcome. They’d sat in adjoining seats on the flight from Manchester and Lesley had kept up an undemanding conversation, telling Meg about previous trips she’d been on with the agency.
In fact, all the members of the team she had met so far had been extremely friendly. There were five of them in total plus another two who had flown on ahead and would meet them in Oncamba. Meg had just about managed to slot names to faces by now and was sure that she would enjoy working with such a lively bunch of professionals.
They seemed to have accepted her without hesitation, including her in the conversation when they’d stopped for a meal at Johannesburg airport. It was only Jack Trent who seemed intent on treating her as an outsider…
‘Why this bit in particular?’ She deliberately closed her mind to that thought, focusing instead on what Lesley had said. Right at that moment Jack Trent was busily supervising the loading of some of the more fragile equipment onto one of the lorries, and she doubted whether he was giving her any thought! She could see him out of the corner of her eye if she turned her head a fraction, his rangy figure clad in khaki chinos and shirt which blended with the landscape. He should have been virtually invisible in that outfit yet she had no difficulty picking him out. It was as though some sort of inner radar had immediately homed in on him.
‘Because this last stage always seems to take ages!’ Lesley declared. ‘I mean, here we are just thirty miles away from our destination and we’re all itching to get started, but if I know anything at all about these trips it’s that there will be one delay after another, getting the equipment there. You take it from me, Meg, the flight from England is a doddle compared to hauling our stuff over these back roads!’
‘Don’t say that! Here I was thinking that it wouldn’t be long before I’d be able to have a lovely long soak in the bath and wash off some of this grime!’ Meg retorted ruefully, brushing the gritty sand off her dusty jeans. She looked up as a shadow fell over them and her heart skipped a beat as she found Jack Trent staring down at her. It was obvious that he must have overheard what she’d said because there was a mocking tilt to his lips as he treated her to a thin smile.
‘I’m afraid long soaks in the bath are a luxury you’ll have to learn to live without for the next few months, Ms Andrews. I did warn you, if you remember?’
‘How could I forget, Dr Trent?’ She returned his smile with an even thinner one but that didn’t mean the comment hadn’t stung. It wasn’t pleasant to realise that he was only waiting his chance to take pot-shots at her. It was a relief when Lesley interrupted at that point because Meg wasn
’t sure what else he might have said.
‘Ms Andrews? Dr Trent?’ the older woman scoffed. ‘Rather formal, isn’t it, for a trip like this?’ She sighed as she looked from one to the other. ‘Don’t tell me you two are going to stand on ceremony for the next three months. How about making that ‘‘Meg’’ and ‘‘Jack’’ and starting as you mean to go on?’
Meg shrugged although she was careful to avoid Lesley’s eyes. Jack Trent had started as he meant to go on, that was the trouble! However, in the interests of team harmony it seemed wrong to make their differences common knowledge. ‘Fine by me. I’d prefer it if you’d call me Meg, anyway.’
‘Of course. And it goes without saying that you must call me Jack,’ he concurred. He turned away before Meg could answer, raising his voice as he called to the rest of the party who were sprawled along the edges of the landing strip.
‘We’re just about ready now, folks. If you want to climb on board then we can make a start. The head driver assures me that it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours to reach the border, which means we should make it by five p.m. by my reckoning,’ he announced.
‘And if you believe that you’ll believe anything!’ declared Rory O’Donnell, the anaesthetist on the trip, and everyone laughed. Jack joined in as well and Meg felt her pulse miss a beat as she saw the austere lines of his face soften.
He looked so different when he laughed, she realised, even more handsome and attractive, just as she’d imagined he would look, in fact. Was it just that he had trouble unbending in front of her and found it easier to relax with people he liked and respected? She sensed that was so and her heart ached even though she didn’t want it to.
She hurriedly got up when she realised that everyone was making their way to the trucks. Rory was giving Kate Gregory, another of the nurses, a boost up into the high cab amid a lot of teasing, his hands placed firmly on the woman’s ample derrière. It was obvious that Kate was taking it all in good part as she shot a few pithy comments at her colleagues.
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