The Doctor's Outback Baby Read online

  ‘Too old to be an intern?’ he finished for her with a grin. ‘I was a mature student. In fact, a student’s practically all I’ve ever been. I spent three years at uni fiddling around doing a business and finance degree, then two months out in the big wide world made me realise the family business just wasn’t for me. They’re financial planners.’ Timothy grimaced. ‘My parents get the same thrill watching the stock market that I get watching a cardiac monitor.’

  Clara laughed, actually laughed. ‘Sounds as if you could use some financial planning yourself.’

  But Timothy just shook his head. ‘Heaven forbid. Sure, I could ring them up and ask them to wire me some money but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.’ He gave a grim smile. ‘There’s the rest of my life to worry about mortgage payments and retirement funds. When I get back to England I’m hoping to study to become a surgeon so there’s years of being sensible ahead, but for now I intend to enjoy myself, despite my parents’ objections.’

  Clara sensed the edge of his voice but chose not to push. ‘So what happened?’ She registered his frown. ‘At your interview in Queensland?’

  ‘Oh, that!’ Timothy grinned, his easy smile back in place now. ‘Well, this nurse comes rushing up and tells me that Mr Forbes in bed four has gone into a cardiac arrest.’

  ‘So what did you do?’ There was impatience to her voice, which Timothy seemed not to notice.

  ‘Well, for starters I asked just where bed four was, and while she was at it would she mind telling me who the hell Mr Forbes was and, perhaps more pointedly, if there was another doctor in the house.’

  ‘But what did you do with the patient?’ Clara pushed, genuinely enthralled now, as any nurse would have been at such a story. ‘What on earth happened?’

  ‘I took a crash course in crash calls.’ He laughed. ‘Thank heavens I watch ER. I was giving out orders, calling out to charge the defibrillator, massaging Mr Forbes’s chest. I even intubated him.’

  ‘Really?’ Clara asked, suitably impressed, but Timothy shrugged modestly.

  ‘I’d had a few goes in Theatre.’

  ‘But still,’ Clara enthused. ‘There’s a big difference between the controlled setting of Theatre with an anaesthetist over your shoulder and running your first cardiac arrest on your own. You did really well.’

  ‘Not that well,’ Timothy groaned. ‘The patient died.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘And I didn’t get the job.’

  ‘But why?’ Clara protested. ‘That’s so unfair.’

  ‘That’s life.’ Timothy shrugged. ‘Someone smarter, with more experience, got in first.’

  ‘I know the feeling,’ Clara muttered.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Come on, I’ll show you around properly, though hopefully there won’t be any repeats.’ They walked around the theatre, Clara pointing things out, flicking machines on and off and taking Timothy through the resuscitation trolley, even surprising herself by pursuing a conversation with him.

  ‘So, which hospital did you end up in?’

  ‘Adelaide.’

  ‘But that’s the other end of the country,’ Clara pointed out.

  ‘And I took my time getting there, let me tell you.’

  ‘Maybe later.’ Clara grinned. ‘I do actually have some work to do.’

  ‘Sorry, I tend to go on a bit, but despite my poverty I’ve just about saved up enough money to head back to Queensland when I’m finished here and do the next level diving course.’

  ‘You’ve already done one?’

  ‘Two,’ Timothy replied. ‘It was amazing. You should see some of the photos I’ve taken of the barrier reef—I’ll show you some time. Have you been there?’

  Clara shook her head. ‘I haven’t been anywhere. Apart from three years in Adelaide to study nursing, I’ve never been away from here. It sounds wonderful, though. I’ve heard it’s stunning.’

  ‘Oh, it is and nothing beats seeing it at first hand. Our diving instructor gave us some food to take down. The fish actually come and feed out of your hands—I even saw a shark not six feet away.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Clara yelped. ‘I’d die.’

  ‘I nearly did,’ Timothy responded, his eyes widening in fear just at the memory. ‘Apparently if you ignore them they’ll ignore you, but I must have used up half my air tank I was hyperventilating so much. You should do it some day, take off and backpack around this amazing land. It’s been the best year of my life.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ Clara admitted, ‘but I can’t see it happening. I can barely get a night off to go to the ball. Can you imagine Ross and Shelly if I asked for a whole year?’

  ‘Don’t ask.’ Timothy shrugged. ‘Just do it.’

  ‘Easier said than done.’ Looking up, she realised Timothy was waiting for her to elaborate. ‘The clinic used to be tiny, just one room and one theatre, when I started. But since Ross and Shelly came last year it’s really grown. Ross is totally committed to the place, he’s for ever lobbying for more staff and more funds and for the most part it’s worked. The closed-off area is yet another extension and when that’s completed we’re going to be upgraded from a clinic to a bush hospital. There’s going to be two wards and a proper delivery suite, which will be great, of course, but the trouble is the staff ratio hasn’t exactly kept up with the patients so far. Kell and I do most of it between us, Shelly pitches in when she can, but she’s got a new baby and a three-year-old to take care of. She wants to be at home with her babies and, frankly, I don’t blame her. Matthew, her three-year-old, has got Down’s syndrome,’ Clara explained, but Timothy just nodded.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So her hands are full already, without taking on a load of extra shifts.’

  ‘So it all falls on you?’

  ‘And Kell,’ Clara said quickly, but when Timothy just stared back at her she let out a low sigh. ‘Mainly me at the moment,’ she admitted. They were in the storeroom now, out of earshot of Bill, so Clara was able to be honest. ‘We don’t normally have inpatients, at least not for more than a couple of nights, but Bill didn’t want to be transferred and he was too sick to go home…’

  ‘And, of course, Kell was busy with Abby,’ Timothy said perceptively. ‘So it all came down to you. You are allowed to have a life, too, you know.’

  ‘It’s not that bad,’ Clara protested. ‘It’s just been a bit full on these past few weeks.’

  ‘You should take some time off, I bet you’ve got heaps owing. Go and see this magical land of yours. I know that’s what I’ll be doing once I’ve done my three-month stint here. When I’ve got my advanced diver’s certificate I’ll be able to take tourists out to the reef myself. I’ve got a two-year working holiday visa and I intend to use every last day of it. Diving’s great.’

  ‘There’s not much ocean in Tennengarrah,’ Clara needlessly pointed out.

  ‘Then I’ll just have to stick to medicine while I’m here, I guess.’ He was smiling at her and, what was more amazing given her mood only twenty minutes earlier, Clara was smiling back, only this time it wasn’t forced or awkward. This time it seemed the most natural thing in the world. ‘Thanks for the tour and by the way…’ He was walking out now, heading for the door as Clara turned back to Bill’s notes. ‘I still want that dance.’

  ‘So Cinderella shall go to the ball after all.’

  The sound of Bill’s voice filling the silence made Clara jump. Crossing the room, she smiled at her patient as she wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around his arm.

  ‘You were supposed to be asleep.’

  ‘Everyone would have stopped talking if I’d opened my eyes. It’s nice to hear a bit of a gossip.’

  Bill had been lying in a state of lethargic depression for weeks now, and Clara was so relieved to see his familiar, kind eyes with a bit of sparkle back in them that her own worries flew out of the window. After checking his obs, she perched on the edge of his bed for a little chat.

  ‘It’s good to ha
ve you back, Bill.’

  ‘It’s good to be back. Now that I’ve finally decided to go ahead and have the bypass I feel better.’

  ‘You’ll feel even better when you’ve had the operation. Not at first, of course, but after a month or two you’ll be a new man, Bill. I’m sure you’ve made the right choice.’

  ‘I hope so.’ She could see the glimmer of fear in his eyes and instinctively Clara put her hand over his and gave it a small squeeze. ‘You’re a good girl, Clara,’ Bill said as he gripped her hand back. ‘Ross, Kell, Shelly, Abby, they’re all great and everything, but you’re one in a million, do you know that?’

  ‘Stop getting maudlin.’ Clara blushed, but Bill wouldn’t let up.

  ‘I remember when your parents died. One of Tennengarrah’s blackest days it was. We were all so worried about you, wondering what would become of you. Just fifteen years old and with no one to take care of you…’

  ‘I had loads of people,’ Clara broke in. ‘Everyone helped.’

  ‘Still, a lot of fifteen-year-olds would have gone off the rails. But not you. You put your head down and got on with it, didn’t you? Really made something of yourself. The whole town’s so proud of you, Clara. You’re a true Tennengarrah girl.’

  ‘So is Kell,’ Clara pointed out, trying not to linger on his name too long, trying to have a normal conversation without betraying the agony in her heart. It wasn’t too hard to do. After all, she’d been hiding her feelings where Kell was concerned for years, it came almost as naturally as breathing. ‘He’s a guy, of course, but he’s a local, too.’

  ‘For how long, though?’

  On any other day and under any other circumstance she’d have managed a shrug or a smile, managed to carry on talking as if she didn’t have a care in the world, as if Kell Bevan was just another friend and colleague. Only today she couldn’t do it.

  Today as Clara sat in the still, quiet ward with her one and only patient, something that felt suspiciously like a tear pricked her eye as Bill carried on talking.

  ‘This is hard on you, isn’t it, Clara?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Confused, she shook her head, went to pull her hand away, but Bill gripped it tighter and those kind eyes stared back at her thoughtfully.

  ‘Kell’s a bit more than just a friend to you, isn’t he?’

  Aghast, Clara’s eyes widened, her mouth opening to let out a small wail of protest, but Bill moved quickly to reassure her.

  ‘No one knows, so don’t be embarrassed. I’ve known you all your life, you’re like a second daughter to me, but even I didn’t have a clue. You’ve always just been Kell and Clara, two school kids, two mates and later two nurses. I never even realised until a couple of weeks ago how you felt. But watching the two of you working together, how your whole face lights up when he comes in the room, how difficult it’s been for you when Abby’s around, well, I guess something just clicked in my head. You do care for him, don’t you?’

  It was pointless denying it, pointless when tears were streaming down her face as her old mate Bill gently held her hand.

  Bill wasn’t just a patient—he was friend, a surrogate uncle. Endless nights had been spent in the cosy womb of his kitchen after her parents had died. Bill and his beloved wife had taken her under their wing, the whole town had, in fact, ensuring she’d always felt loved. Cheering her on through her school exams then later welcoming her back with open arms when finally she’d got her nursing degree.

  Lying to Bill wasn’t an option.

  ‘I was going to tell him how I felt tonight,’ Clara whispered. ‘I knew he was seeing Abby, but I really didn’t think it was that serious. I thought she was just another girlfriend, that she’d move on in a couple of weeks and things would be back to normal, and now it would seem that they’re getting engaged.’

  ‘She hasn’t said yes yet,’ Bill pointed out.

  ‘Oh, she will,’ Clara said ruefully. ‘And deep down I know that it’s right. They love each other, they’re really well suited. It’s just so hard to take it all in…’

  ‘Oh, Clara.’ Bill lay back on his pillow as she struggled to hold it together.

  ‘I’m sorry, Bill, I’m supposed to be cheering you up, not landing all of this on you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way,’ Bill said gently. ‘Things will get better for you Clara. When my Raelene died I thought my life was over. I never thought I’d be happy again, didn’t care if I lived or died. And now look at me. I’ve got a grandchild on the way, I’m having an operation that will give me another decade. And you know what? I reckon once this op is over, once I’m back home, on a good day I’ll even be able to say that I’m truly happy, and you’ll be able to say it one day, too. It won’t always hurt this much.’

  ‘I know,’ Clara said bravely, then changed her mind. ‘Actually, I don’t know, but I really hope so, Bill.’

  ‘Hey, there’s plenty more fish in the sea…’

  ‘Bill…’ Clara let out a rueful laugh. ‘As I just said to Timothy, there’s no ocean for miles here, there’s really not that many fish to choose from in Tennengarrah.’

  ‘What about the Carry On guy?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Carry On Doctor, the one with the posh voice who killed his first patient.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The one he was talking about—the guy who had the heart attack at his interview in Queensland! Like I said, I was only pretending to be asleep.’

  ‘He didn’t kill him, Bill.’ Clara grinned through her tears. ‘It wasn’t Timothy’s fault he couldn’t save him—it actually sounds as if he did really well. There’s not many junior doctors that could intubate a patient under those sorts of circumstances. At least the patient was given every chance.’

  ‘I guess.’ Bill gave Clara a small wink. ‘I had a quick peek when he came in and he’s a good-looking guy, that Timothy.’

  ‘Don’t go there, Bill,’ Clara warned, but he carried on anyway.

  ‘Why ever not? He’s already lined you up for a dance. Maybe tonight won’t be such a disaster after all.’

  ‘Forget it. Tonight’s already a disaster.’ Standing up, Clara gave her favourite patient the benefit of a very nice smile. ‘How about a cuppa?

  ‘And some toast and Vegemite?’ Bill asked hopefully. ‘I’m not nil by mouth yet.’

  ‘Give me ten minutes to sort out your notes and I’ll make us both a round of toast. I could use some comfort food right now,’ Clara said warmly, thrilled that Bill’s appetite was finally returning.

  And not just his appetite, Clara realised happily. Bill was flicking through the TV guide with more than passing interest.

  ‘There’s your favourite soap opera starting soon, Clara. Why don’t you pull up a chair and have your lunch-break here? I promise not to mention Kell.’

  ‘It’s a deal.’ Heading for the desk, Clara turned briefly, back in control now but still just a little shy at having finally revealed her secret. ‘You come back to us safe, Bill.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘I know so.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  BECAUSE it didn’t matter any more, because it mattered not a jot how well she did her make-up or how well her fine red hair behaved, tonight of all nights everything worked.

  The subtle blonde foils Clara had reluctantly agreed to at Anna the hairdresser’s insistence lifted her short, practical hairstyle into a pretty gamine crop, accentuating her clear blue eyes and high freckled cheekbones. She hadn’t used the green foundation, though. She’d had it in her drawer for weeks, had bought it on an occasional trip to town, won over by the sophisticated shop assistant who’d sworn it would neutralise even the deepest blush.

  Oh, and how she would have blushed.

  Blinking back a fresh crop of tears, Clara tried to beat back the image of finally telling Kell how she felt. How she’d planned to take him outside, away from Abby, away from the prying eyes of the locals, and tell him that he wasn’t or ever ha
d been just a friend…

  Shaking her head firmly, Clara took a deep breath, refusing to go down that track, refusing to indulge herself in wasted dreams. Instead, she eyed herself critically in the mirror, pleased despite herself with her efforts. Even the rather shakily applied mascara and neutral lipstick for once didn’t look like a little girl had practised with her mother’s make-up. The antithesis of vain, she didn’t even possess a full-length mirror, so the only way to view her dress was by standing precariously on the toilet lid, which, Clara realised, didn’t really give the full effect when your head was chopped off from view.

  Oh, lord!

  Swallowing nervously, she stared at the sleek black-stockinged legs that seemed to go on for ever, a massive expanse of unfamiliar thigh slimmed down by the high heels she was wearing, but even the occasional appearance of her legs didn’t jolt her as much as the sight of her breasts, jacked up in a strapless bra, wriggling and jumping in excitement at their first taste of freedom from her practical sports bra.

  It was too much, way, way too much! Everyone would fall off their chairs laughing when she walked in.

  Glancing at her watch, Clara bit back a surge of panic. It was already ten past seven, she was supposed to be setting up the food table now, the band would be waiting for their pay cheque before they started and if she didn’t go now…

  Picking up a massive tray of egg and chutney sandwiches, Clara headed for the door, then changed her mind midway. Dumping the tray in the hallway, she dashed back into her bedroom and drenched herself in perfume, then ran around the house in a manic frenzy, trying to remove every lingering trace of the beastly three dozen eggs she’d hard-boiled before heading outside and walking down the high street towards the barn and wondering why the hell she’d even bothered.

  She’d be coming home alone.

  Nobody laughed.

  Oh, there were a few whistles and cat calls when she walked in, blushing furiously and wishing she wasn’t carrying a pile of sandwiches so she could hitch down her dress a bit, and a couple of the guys slapped her on the back as if they were bringing up her wind and reminded Clara that if she had any trouble tonight she only had to ask.