Secrets (Hope Bay)

by Angela Verdenius

  Harriet’s grin grew a little wicked. “I’d marry him to have those hands go to work.”

  Emma arched an eyebrow.

  “Making yummy food and drink, of course.” Harriet winked. “What did you think I meant?”

  “You’re a dirty old lady is what I think.”

  Placing her hands on her chest, Harriet fluttered her eyelashes. “Why, thank you, honey bunch. I’ll take that compliment.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Emma replied dryly.

  The backdoor slamming shut announced the arrival of Doc.

  Or maybe Shane, the new doc. Emma’s heart skipped a beat, her fingers tightening on the glass as the sound of shoes on the wooden floor grew louder. Relief poured through her when Doc’s beaming face appeared around the corner.

  “All ready for the first day with two Doc Armands here, girls?”

  “Can’t wait,” Harriet replied. “By the way, working for two doctors, do we get paid twice as much?” At Doc’s snort, she muttered, “Worth a try.”

  “Two Armands too much for you to handle?’ Doc queried.

  “Are you kidding me? I’m more than ready to handle both of you. With one hand behind my back. And blindfolded.”

  “Yeah, right.” Doc looked at Emma. “How about you, Em?”

  “Ready and waiting.” Emma snapped off a cheerful salute, but deep inside she felt as though she was far from ready. Ever since she’d seen - imagined - that heated look in Shane’s eyes, she’d been jittery about coming face-to-face with him this morning. Though was sure she’d imagined it, something deep inside, something stupid and giddy, had been a little titillated to even think he’d look at her like that. Like he found her attractive.

  “Where is he, anyway?” Harriet asked.

  “I beat him to it. The boy’s on his push bike.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s going to push bike to work every day.”

  Doc shrugged.

  “Ah well.” Harriet glanced at the kitchen clock. “As long as he’s on time.”

  Emma checked the kitchen clock while sipping from the glass. Half an hour before the clinic opened. Staff started eight thirty for nine o’clock opening, which gave them all time to do what needed to be done in preparation for the day.

  Tipping the rest of the water down the sink, she rinsed the glass. “Speaking of time, I’ve got instruments to bag and put in the sterilizer. I’ll get started.”

  “I’ll check messages and such.” Doc wandered off.

  “I’ll get back to my coffee,” Harriet added.

  “I admire your priorities.” Emma followed her from the room.

  “By the time you’re my age, you know what’s important.”

  “You’re only what - seventy five?”

  “Sixty, you cheeky chit!” Harriet swatted out at her.

  Laughing, Emma dodged her easily.

  “Coffee, sex and magazines,” Harriet called out as she headed to the front of the clinic. “In that order!”

  Still laughing, Emma backed towards the treatment room. “Shouldn’t that be sex, coffee and magazines?”

  “Not on my watch.” Harriet disappeared into the reception.

  “It is on mine!” Emma called out.

  “Saucy sheila!” Harriet yelled back.

  “Does this mean the sex has to wait until you get home?”

  “What do you think? Do you see my old man hanging out with me right now?”

  “Poor baby.”

  “You’re corrupting me!”

  “That’s laughable.”

  “Now leave me to my coffee in peace. I still have a magazine to flick through!”

  Grinning, Emma swung around and stepped forward, only registering the figure that had been standing right behind her too late. She collided with him.

  Yep, she knew instinctively who it was even before she hit that warm body clad in t-shirt and shorts, her breasts flattening against a nicely muscled chest, her hips nudging deliciously against a very masculine pair.

  Warm hands closed firmly around her upper arms, preventing her from falling as her back-pedalling momentum made her unsteady.

  “Easy, there.” Shane’s hold adjusted, steadying her as she regained balance.

  “Sorry.” She tried to ignore the little thump of her heart at the warmth of his nearness. “I didn’t know you were there.”

  Firm lips curved upward at one corner. “That was obvious.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced over her head in the direction of the reception. “Especially going by the topic you were discussing with Harriet.” His eyes dropped back down to regard her with interest.

  Oh geez. Her cheeks suddenly felt hot. “It’s not…I didn’t…We were just kidding around.”

  “Sex, coffee and magazines.” Shane’s head angled slightly. “Is that the latest prescription for stress?”

  “Um…”

  “That’ll put the pharmaceutical business out of work.”

  “Yes, well…” Emma cleared her throat.

  “But coffee and magazine sales will rocket.”

  There was no doubting the twinkle in those grey eyes regarding her with open mirth.

  Emma’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Who? Me?” Expression suddenly innocent, he laid one hand flat against his chest. “Seriously?”

  “I’d take you seriously if you weren’t grinning like a Cheshire Cat.”

  He laughed.

  Tension easing from her shoulders, she couldn’t help but smile and shake her head.

  Surprising her, he gave her shoulder a friendly pat as he stepped aside. “I better change and get ready to face the day.”

  “I have things to get ready as well.” Emma shifted to allow him to pass, unable to help glancing down the hallway to watch him swing into the bathroom, noticing for the first time that he had on a backpack.

  The backpack was black and silver, but what caught her attention was the cartoon figure sewn onto it - a thin, stooped cartoon man wearing a lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck, the middle finger of one hand up in the air with the words this finger isn’t simply a bird flipper - it’s also a finely-tuned, prostate-examination digit scripted beneath it.

  Wow. Emma could just imagine what any male driver who happened to be behind Shane on his push bike must think.

  Chuckling, she went into the treatment room.

  Feeling a lot more relaxed, she flipped on the small radio, keeping the volume low so it didn’t disturb anyone else. As the town DJ chatted on about upcoming events, she sealed various instruments into sterilization bags, wrote the date and a letter of the alphabet on the various packets so she knew the more recent ones sterilized and could put them at the back of the drawers to ensure the older ones were used first.

  All was peaceful as she lost herself in the task, only to jump as music blasted down the hallway. For several seconds she just stood there, mouth hanging open, before she bolted to the doorway to look out.

  Harriet stood at the reception entrance, eyes wide. “What the heck…?”

  The music was suddenly turned down. “Oops, sorry!” Shane’s head popped around the door of his room. “Didn’t know the volume was so loud. Dad must have been in here.”

  At this, Doc’s head popped around the door of his room directly opposite Shane’s. “Don’t even think of laying that crap on me!”

  Shane squinted across the hallway at him. “It’s your volume.”

  “It’s your computer and your room and your fault.”

  “You’re a little sensitive about your hearing loss. I understand.”

  “I understand that my foot will have to be surgically removed from your rectum.”

  “Wow. You’re really upset about this.”

  “Not as much as you will be when I use a crow bar to remove my foot from your rectum.”

  “You’re developing a bum-fetish, Dad. Do I need to be concerned?”

  “Concern this.” Doc’s head disappeared back int
o his room.

  Shane’s head retreated back into his room at the exact same time, leaving Emma staring at Harriet.

  “Interesting,” was all Harriet said, and returned to reception.

  Emma was still standing in the doorway of the treatment room, wondering what the heck she’d just witnessed, when a snort came from Shane’s room along with his yelled, “Crude, Dad, very crude! I’m telling Mum what you send on office emails!”

  Doc laughed.

  And then they both went quiet, the only thing filling the hallway Shane’s music drifting from his room.

  Apparently both men had finished with the conversation.

  Emma retreated into the treatment room. Doc loved a laugh and so, apparently, did Shane. She could see a few similarities already. The next few days were going to prove interesting as she not only observed father and son working in the same practice, but also what the patients would think, as well as how Shane was going to work with her and Harriet.

  She checked the temperature on the ‘fridge. She’d have to work with him on minor procedures as well as other things, which would give her a good insight on how he worked. But most telling would be after a couple of weeks, by then she’d have a handle on his temperament, moods, and communication skills, all of which would affect the work environment. Doc was easy-going but not slack, working hard while smiling, well-liked by staff and patients alike. He expected the same dedication to work from his staff.

  She just hoped Shane would be similar. She liked working in the clinic. At this stage he was an unknown quantity, and the fact that he was now in partnership with Doc meant that he was also her boss and could make things as pleasant or unpleasant as he chose.

  Gathering up the packets of instruments, Emma glanced at the clock. Ten minutes until opening. For better or worse, Shane was here and only time would tell how he affected them all. Stressing about it wasn’t going to help anyone.

  Still, no matter how much she told herself not to worry, there was still one thing that niggled in the back of her mind - was Doc going to tell Shane everything? Her secret? Her dirty little secret that while it might not mean much to others, was still a sore spot she nursed deep inside. She’d done nothing wrong, but still…people always said where there was smoke, there was fire.

  Unfair, true, but believed by many.

  The thought of judgement and wariness in his expression when he looked at her was enough to make her insides shrivel with humiliation.

  With a sigh, she loaded the sterilizer, ensured air could circulate around the packets, shut the door and turned it on. There was nothing she could do about it. Whatever happened, she’d face it when it came.

  She just hoped it didn’t cost her her job. Or her friendships with Katie, Harriet, Steve, Danny, Daz and Mitch.

  For several seconds she gazed out the window to the garden beyond, finding comfort in the pots of flowers and the gentle sway of the wattle in the summer breeze.

  The sounds of voices from the reception area heralded the arrival of patients, and she gladly pushed the troubling thoughts to the back of her mind and left the room, returning to the treatment room to check the computer for her first appointment. One in particular made her smile, and she looked forward to it.

  The morning passed quickly as appointment after appointment came and went. Several times Doc interrupted her to do an ECG as well as several vaccinations. But she had time to skim the appointments list to see that though Shane had started the day with no appointments, his time slots were starting to fill. No doubt Harriet was steering some patients over to him, both by possible request and by the necessity of a Monday morning and people needing a doctor’s appointment that couldn’t wait.

  She was just finishing renewing the dressing to Mrs Jarlston’s calf when Shane entered the treatment room.

  Mrs Jarlston smiled up at him. “I’d heard you were now working here, Shane. How lovely to see you.”

  “Mrs J.” Shane grinned at her. “Everything okay?”

  “Ah yes, its Doctor Armand now, isn’t it?” Her eyes twinkled.

  “So my certificates say.”

  “Then I take it that your spelling improved greatly.”

  Shane glanced at Emma. “Mrs J was the headmistress of my school.”

  “Ah.” Emma winked at the older woman. “Any secrets to spill about the new doc?”

  “Darling,” Mrs J said, “how much time do you have?”

  “I’m going to lunch soon.”

  “An hour?” Mrs Jarlston snorted. “Not enough time.”

  “No worries, I knock off at-”

  “Here now,” Shane interrupted. “None of that gossiping in my facility, thank you.”

  They both looked at him.

  “That’s why we’re organising an after-work meeting.” Emma was greatly entertained by his indignant expression. “More time.”

  “I forbid it.”

  “Oh?” Mrs Jarlston folded her arms. “And exactly what, young Shane, do you think you’re forbidding?”

  “Gossiping. About me.”

  “Freedom of speech,” Emma murmured.

  He gave her a mock glare. “Slander.”

  “Ohhh.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “So there is juicy gossip!”

  “Only good things, trust me.”

  “So you trust your headmistress too, don’t you?”

  “She might have…” He cleared his throat.

  “Incriminating evidence?” Mrs Jarlston suggested wryly.

  “Mrs J, I’m surprised at you.”

  “Darling, I’m retired. I can say whatever I want whenever I want.” Her smile was all teeth. “Be afraid, boy, be very afraid.”

  He snorted, but his eyes were twinkling, a testament to the fact that he was thoroughly enjoying the teasing.

  Emma could very well imagine him as a cheeky little boy getting into all kinds of scraps, but before she could try to wheedle out a story the phone rang. “Hey, Harriet.”

  “Hank’s here,” Harriet said. “Had a disagreement with a saw and cut his thumb quite badly. Shane’s free, can he take a look?”

  “Sure, he’s right here. Send Hank on through.” Remembering suddenly that Shane might prefer to see Hank in his office first, Emma glanced at him questioningly. “It’s going to need dressing, maybe stitches.”

  Though he didn’t have the whole story, Shane nodded. That was nice, it meant he trusted her judgement.

  “Well, it was a pleasure seeing you again, Mrs J.” Shane gave her a hand up out of the chair.

  “We’ll have to catch-up sometime.” Gathering up her handbag, she suddenly smiled slyly. “Over cupcakes that you won’t have to steal.”

  For a second his expression was blank, but then he started to laugh. “It’s a date.”

  Emma followed Mrs Jarlston into the hallway just in time to see Hank walking towards her with a dirty, bloody rag wrapped around his hand.

  Mrs Jarlston gave it an askance look before giving him a nod and heading for reception.

  “Hey, Hank,” Emma greeted him. “Doing a bit of slicing and dicing?”

  “You could say that,” he returned cheerfully. “Had a disagreement with the saw.”

  “Come on through.” Standing aside to let him pass, she pointed to one of the reclining examination chairs. “Take a seat and we’ll have a look.”

  “I’m hoping you’ll do more than look.” He dropped his lanky frame onto the chair.

  Shane regarded the bloody rag with interest. “What happened?”

  Pulling on gloves, Emma carefully unwrapped the rag as Hank explained about sawing wood and the saw bouncing off a hard knot, landing nicely on his thumb which he proceeded to slice before he realised what had happened. “Fast, Shane, it was fast. Before I knew it I was sawing my own thumb.”

  “Like the bandaging,” Shane commented, watching as Emma peeled it free.

  They all looked at Hank’s thumb, the cut that was clogging with blood, the fresh slide of red that glided down his wrist.
There was no need to clean it to see that it was too deep for a simple bandaging job.

  Shane scrutinized it. “Yep, it’s going to need stitches. All righty, let’s head for the OT.”

  “Ah shit.” Hank sighed. “Begging your pardon, Em.”

  “Don’t worry,” she replied cheerfully, wrapping a wad of gauze around his thumb to contain the blood. “That’d be my reaction, too.”

  Hank squinted up at Shane. “You doing it?”

  “Yep.”

  Hank sighed again. “Maybe that’s why Em said it’d be her reaction, too.”

  Her mouth fell open as Shane’s eyes cut to her. “I didn’t mean that at all!”

  Hank grinned.

  “You’re such a troublemaker.” She smacked him lightly on the arm.

  “Geez, Em, brutal with your patients much?” Hank hopped off the chair. “Take your staff in hand, Shane.”

  “I’ll do it after.” Shane stood to one side. “Take her in hand, teach her a lesson, make her all sweet and polite.”

  Emma snorted as she passed them.

  “And respectful,” Hank added.

  “And respectful,” Shane echoed, laughter making his eyes twinkle merrily.

  Amused, Emma rolled her eyes and led them into the OT. Shane went to the bench and started getting out the local anaesthetic, needle and syringe.

  “Want to sit or lie down?” Emma asked Hank.

  Hank sat on the side of the operating table. “I’m no weakling, I’ll perch here.”

  “Not feeling faint or anything?”

  “Love, I was in the Vietnam War. I think I can handle a bit of blood and a needle.”

  “Okay.” She situated a small table in front of him. “Keep your arm up while I get everything set up for you.”

  With practiced efficiency, she laid a bluey on the table which she set at the correct height for both Shane to operate and Hank to rest comfortably. While she set up the sterile trolley with a dressing pack, a suturing pack, more gauze, a sterile pair of scissors and a pair of sterile gloves in Shane’s size, Shane positioned Hank’s hand on the table where he wanted it, washed his own hands and donned the sterile gloves.

  Shane and Hank chatted about sawing and wood work in general as Emma thoroughly cleaned the wound once more before Shane injected the site. Hank was stoic about the whole thing, though Emma knew the local injection hurt like a bitch, she’d experienced it herself a couple of times in the past.