by Lily Harlem
“Of course not. I’ll be right here. Just shout for me.”
She smiled then slipped through the door and shut it with her foot. For a moment the long, low scream intensified but then was muffled once again.
Leo frowned at Malik. “Four babies, that’s harsh.” He shook his head.
“It is very sad. Her family are ashamed of her.”
“Ashamed?” Leo was shocked.
“Yes, she cannot give her husband a son.”
“Surely it’s bad enough to go through the agony of losing a child without bringing shame to her family. Poor girl.” Leo rubbed at his temple. It really was something he’d never had to face in London.
“I agree,” Malik said then paused as a particularly loud scream filled the air. When it had stopped he continued. “It is all tragic and sad. I hope this time she is successful in her duty.”
Duty? Leo opened his mouth to speak but closed it again when Malik turned and walked to the ward.
“Come,” Malik instructed. “We have work to do.”
Leo followed him. They did indeed have work to do. Villagers were clearly keen to make the most of having a doctor at the hospital and had filled the beds, two or three times over.
“Wow,” Leo said. “You’re right, Malik. I’m going to be busy.”
Malik passed him a stethoscope. “I will help. It is likely minor complaints for most.”
“Yes, let’s hope so, because we can’t admit them all. We haven’t got the room.”
“It is not unheard of to have two patients per bed, Doctor Leo.”
Leo glanced at him. Malik was serious. “Okay, let’s do this.”
The first patient was an old man with bunions. His feet were painful and twisted. There was little Leo could do but prescribe analgesia which Malik retrieved from the newly stocked cupboard.
The next was a child who Leo discovered had worms. Again, the new medication was handed out, for not just the child but for the entire family.
He moved on to treat infected boils, arthritis, a rotting tooth and a large splinter in a child’s arm. All the time the distant labor screams continued. There was a hushed air about the ward, everyone it seemed sympathizing with the mother’s pain.
“I think this patient…“ Leo looked at his file. “Mr. Tinda, will have to remain with us. He has a chest infection and he says he is one hundred and two.”
“Yes, he is.” Malik said.
Malik had been at his side the entire time, carefully and precisely carrying out instructions and assisting with interpretation.
Leo wasn’t completely convinced. The man was old but he wasn’t sure if he was one-hundred-and-two years old. Then again, he’d never met a person of that ripe age before so he wouldn’t really know what they looked like. “If we could start him on some antibiotics and—”
He was interrupted by a particularly shrill scream, which faded into a groan then silence—absolute, spine-chilling silence.
The hairs on the back of Leo’s neck stood up. He held his breath.
Everything in his body shouted at him to rush to the operating room—to see what was going on. Help. But he didn’t. Instead, he stared at Malik.
Malik clearly had the same gut feeling for he placed down his files, glanced at Leo then stared at where the sounds had previously been coming from.
“Shall we?” Leo asked.
“No.”
Leo rubbed his hands together. His palms were a little sweaty and his stomach churned.
He was going against his instincts, his experience and his beliefs. But he had to accept this new culture he was working in, had to respect the Kenyan way of doing things.
But that didn’t change the fact that standing still at that moment was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
Chapter Six
“Doctor. Doctor, come quick,” the young female nurse shouted. Panic laced her tone and her voice seemed to bang off the walls toward Leo.
Leo and Malik raced forward as one—tearing past the beds, along the corridor and into the operating room.
The mother lay on the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks and a cloth on her brow. She’d had a blood-stained sheet thrown over her legs.
Sister Afua stood next to her, holding a naked newborn that was terrifyingly still.
“We must be quick,” Leo said, snatching the child from her arms. “Malik, clear that trolley. I need a hard surface to work.”
Malik hastily removed the bowl of water from the instrument tray and Leo lay the baby boy down on it.
“Suction,” he said as he scooped mucus from the baby’s mouth with his finger.
Malik was there in an instant, manually working the machine. The mother was howling, the two nurses trying to calm her. Leo unplugged what he could—there was lots of muck in the child’s mouth but it wasn’t meconium, so that was one positive thing. “Breathe, breathe,” Leo muttered. “Damn it.” He shook his head, pressed two fingers over the child’s sternum and started rapid compressions. He looked at Malik. “Can you draw me up some Adrenalin?”
“Yes, how much?” Sister Afua was already at the cupboard preparing it.
“Er...” Leo frowned at the child. “How much does he weigh?”
“I don’t know,” Sister Afua said, “we hadn’t got that far.”
“It’s okay.” Leo continued to work the tiny chest. “I’m guessing six pounds, which is...” He did a quick calculation, kilos per mils, and ordered one of the tiniest amounts of Adrenalin he’d ever requested.
“Here.” Malik handed it to him.
“And a sterile wipe,” Leo said. It was hard to think over the mother’s despairing wails.
“Wipe.” Sister Afua passed it over.
Quickly, Leo wiped the bloodstained chest, right over the child’s heart. He then carefully slid the needle into the baby’s thorax and administered the drug. “Please work,” he muttered, withdrawing the needle then pressing the wipe over the tiny hole. He started up the gentle compressions again. But the baby remained a rag doll, blue- tinged and floppy. “Fuck, come on,” he said, grimacing. He had no other ideas. No crash team to call, no pediatrician to turn to and no special care baby unit to help him out. “Come on. Come on.”
Suddenly the baby jerked, flailed its arms as though falling, and twitched its legs.
“Yes, you can do it…” Leo stopped compressions, picked the child up and as he did so, the baby let out a long cry of complaint.
“Yes!” Leo said.
“Thank you, God.” Sister Afua quickly strapped a small dressing over the injection site. She clasped her hands beneath her chin and sent a prayer heavenward.
The baby drew in a deep breath and wailed again, even louder this time.
Leo turned and looked at the mother, who was crying and holding her arms out for her child.
“He will be okay.” Leo smiled. “He’s breathing now.” He passed the newborn over. Its lips were already pinking up and the screams sounded almost indignant about his rude arrival into the world.
Leo ran his forearm over his brow. His heart was tripping and he felt shaky. He was no expert in neonatal care and having absolutely no one but himself to rely on was pretty scary.
He glanced around the room. No, that wasn’t true, he wasn’t alone—he had a competent and caring team to work with. He caught Malik’s gaze and held it.
Malik was staring at him as though seeing him for the first time. A small crease appeared between his eyebrows and he pressed his lips together.
“Are you okay?” Leo asked. He knew that sometimes nurses and doctors could get freaked out by emergency situations, especially those that involved children.
“You did good, Doctor Leo.”
“Thankfully the shot worked. I had no other ideas.”
“That was a good idea. We would not have thought of it or been brave enough to do it.”
“Doctor, thank you, thank you,” the mother cried.
Leo smiled and took his stethoscope from around
his neck. “Can I just listen?” He indicated to the child who was rooting for milk, another excellent sign.
“Yes, yes.”
Quickly, Leo checked the child’s heart and lungs. Everything sounded perfectly normal. “Good,” he said, nodding.
The mother’s face softened. “Thank you.”
“I will check him again in the morning but if the nurses are worried, they can get me in the night and I’ll come straight away.”
She dashed out her hand and pressed it to Leo’s chest, pushing against him through his T-shirt. “You are a good, good man.”
“Just doing my job.” Leo felt a little embarrassed as he always did when he was thanked for his work.
“No, you are doing more than a job. You are saving lives, making people well and also very happy.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. “My husband will be so pleased to have a son after all this time.”
She went back to latching the wriggling child onto her breast and Leo turned away.
“It is late, Doctor Leo,” Sister Afua said, “and you have had a very busy first day. Why don’t you go and eat and rest and we will call you if there are any problems.”
“Are you sure?” Suddenly Leo did feel exhausted. His feet ached and he needed a shower.
“Yes. We will manage here now. But thank you, so much, for everything.”
Leo had one last glance at the child then left the room.
Malik followed him. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”
Leo turned. “Tonight?”
Malik shifted from one foot to the other, and studied the floor. “Well, not if you don’t want to. I mean—”
“I’d love to,” Leo interrupted, “but only if I can bring something. I keep eating your food.”
Malik smiled. “Okay. I will come and get you in one hour, take you to my family, yes?”
“Yes, that would be nice.” A warm glow settled in Leo’s soul as he stepped out into the twilight evening. He’d just saved a life and been invited out for the evening by a gorgeous man. Okay, it wasn’t a date, but he could pretend it was, as long as he didn’t tell anyone.
Through the shadows a large male figure appeared, running. His footsteps were loud thuds on the dirt and he was panting.
For a moment Leo panicked, thought of Namrin, but quickly he saw it was one of the villagers—a man, wearing black shorts and a yellow T-shirt was hurtling toward the hospital.
“Doctor,” the man said, drawing to a hasty halt when he saw Leo. “Do you know how my wife is? She is with child. I have heard that she has finished her labor. Is it true?”
Leo grinned. “Yes it is and she is okay.”
The man clenched his fists and held his arms over his chest, like a cross. “And…the baby?”
“Your son is doing very well.” Leo nodded. “He’s a fighter.”
The man grabbed Leo and squashed him into a tight bear hug. “Thank you. Thank you.” He released Leo then darted off.
Leo was left a little unbalanced by the sudden frantic gesture but smiled after the happy father. Yes, it had been a good day.
****
Leo showered, shaved then changed his T-shirt. He added a small splash of cologne before waiting by candlelight for Malik to arrive. He’d found some chocolate in his bag and was taking that to share. He hoped it would be enough as he had no idea how big Malik’s family was.
A quiet knock on his door had Leo catching his breath. Not a date. Nothing significant at all. Just a nice gesture by a nice man.
He opened the door. Malik had also showered by the look of his damp hair and he had on a fresh top that clung tightly and highlighted his hard, square pectorals. The small discs of his nipples stood out.
“Hi.” Leo reached for the chocolate and the key from the desk and made an effort not to stare at Malik’s fabulous physique.
Malik didn’t offer a greeting. Instead, he stepped into the room and sniffed. “It smells nice in here.”
“Er…thank you,” Leo said, suddenly finding himself standing very near to Malik in the small space.
“Ahh…” Malik leaned toward Leo, so close Leo could see each individual eyelash. “It is not the room. It is you, Doctor Leo, who smells nice.”
Leo swallowed and his stomach clenched. If he reached out, he could grab Malik and kiss him, hell to the consequences. He’d take what he could in a mad moment and face the music afterward—which would no doubt be a black eye and a punch to the gut. Oh, but to have those lush lips on his… Yes, it would be worth it.
But he didn’t kiss the gorgeous man standing before him. He couldn’t. He wasn’t that brave. “Malik,” he said quietly instead. “I think you could just call me Leo. Most people do.”
“Most people call you Doctor Leo.” Malik stayed close and frowned slightly.
Leo realized he had to look up. Malik was a fraction taller than him. “Er, at work they do, but not friends. Friends call me Leo. It’s my name. Well, actually it’s Leonard, but no one calls me that except for my mother.” He paused. Why was he talking about his mother at this moment in time? “Malik,” he added, smiling sheepishly, “I think we are friends.”
Malik moved a little closer. There was just a hair’s breadth between their chests and their toes bumped.
“Yes, we are friends… Leo.”
Malik had spoken in barely a whisper yet his breath on Leo’s cheek was enough to send blood rushing to his cock. “Friends,” he managed. “Yes.” His heart rate had picked up and his pulse thudded in his ears.
“Good.” Malik stepped back and clapped. “So we should go, friend. My sister is cooking goat stew, one of her specialties. You will love it.”
Leo locked up his room then they walked across the village square.
“It is not far,” Malik said as they strolled past the well.
“That’s okay, I like to walk.”
“Yes, I do too. I walk for miles to see what I have caught in traps.”
“Traps?”
“Yes, I lay down cages. About six miles from here, by a river. The meat will stay fresh for a few days. They are…humane, I think you would call it. The traps don’t kill my catch. It stays alive until I decide if it is something that is edible. If it is, I kill it, if not, freedom.”
“Oh, I see. And do you have to go and check them every day?”
“When I set them I leave it one or two nights before I check again. My mother and sister are usually pleased with what I get. Sometimes I go further afield and try my luck with different game, then I stay overnight—it is a long hike to the foothills of the mountain.”
“Don’t you worry about the animals…you know, attacking you?”
They were walking through the rows of small huts now. The scent of fires and the sound of voices mixed in with the cicadas and the occasional hyena call.
“Fire,” Malik gestured to one being stoked outside a home, “is a warrior’s greatest weapon, that and the spear.”
“You don’t have a gun?”
“No.” He huffed and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “It would be useful for when Namrin paid us a visit, though.”
“This Namrin terrorizes Cagaha Buurta and it should be stopped.” Leo shook his head and thought of the gun he had hidden away in his room. “I hope I don’t meet him in the time I’m here.”
Malik paused. He turned to Leo and rested his hand on his shoulder to halt him. “Me too, my friend. He would think you a great prize.”
A knot of fear wound itself tight in Leo’s belly. There was something in Malik’s eyes that worried him. “What do you mean?”
“You are a white doctor. Worthy of holding to ransom. The British government would pay for your release.” Malik frowned. “Namrin loves money and he also has no morals, no heart and no soul.”
Leo liked Malik touching him, but he didn’t like the thought of this wild, soulless barbarian, Namrin, riding off with him into the night. He had many fantasies but being kidnapped by madmen in the middle of Africa wa
sn’t one of them. “The British government doesn’t negotiate with terrorists,” he said. “They would pay nothing for my release. It’s how they operate.”
Malik’s pressed his lips together, flattening against themselves, and his wide nostrils flared. “Then we must ensure that Namrin doesn’t find out that you are here.” He put his hand on his chest. “I will do everything I can to protect you.”
“I have a gun,” Leo suddenly blurted out. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone. It’s for personal use. The charity gave it to me. It’s standard issue. But I’m not a very good shot and I don’t know if I could shoot anyone. It goes against everything I believe, to kill.” He’d spoken fast and urgently.
Malik rubbed his chin and glanced left then right. “You are wise to tell no one and your secret is safe with me. I promise.”
“I know I can trust you.”
“You can.”
Their gazes connected. Leo wondered if they were talking about more than the gun now. Were they using code to admit mutual attraction? Had Malik guessed that he was gay? Could Leo trust Malik if he told him he was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen?
“Come, this way.” Malik suddenly stepped to the right and continued to walk.
“Yes, of course,” Leo said, jogging a little to catch up.
His head was spinning. He’d felt confused before about potential lovers—wondering if they were attracted to him, if they wanted the same thing as he did. But never had he faced the hurdle of clarifying sexual orientation. In his experience, it had always been obvious. He could tell if a man was interested from one hundred yards back home in London. But here, in Kenya, it was a whole new ball game and he was struggling with the rules.
Chapter Seven
Malik’s family lived in a small, round hut much like everyone else’s. Leo adored it. He found it a real treat and utterly fascinating to be invited inside.
Burta showed him around the cramped space. Four sleeping areas were separated by curtains held back by frayed rope. Three children sat on the skinny mattresses. In the center of the hut, Malik’s mother and father perched on tatty cushions drinking hot broth poured from a cast iron teapot.
