Bachelor Cure

by Marion Lennox

  ‘But…’ He stared up at the girl above him, and then he stared at his alarm clock. It must have stopped working. He’d set it for six.

  ‘I turned it off,’ Tess said, seeing where he was looking. She smiled benignly, for all the world as if she’d done him a favour.

  ‘You-’

  ‘I sneaked in to check you were asleep about five a.m,’ she told him blithely. ‘Didn’t see me, huh? I’m a born sneak. And as for Strop! What a watchdog! He snored and rolled over and that’s the only peep I heard out of him. When I opened the door just now, he took one whiff of the bacon and headed for the kitchen at what I can only suppose is what he thinks is a run. Good grief!’

  ‘But the clock…’ Mike reached to lift the plate of eggs and bacon-and then thought better of it. He made a self-conscious grab at the sheet. Hell, why on earth didn’t he wear pyjamas?

  But Tess either didn’t notice or wasn’t fussed at him presenting his nakedness from the hips up. ‘Yeah. The clock. I saw what time you’d set it for,’ she told him. ‘Six a.m.! What sort of a crazy time is that? I turned it off.’ Her smile widened. ‘Aren’t you glad I did?’

  ‘No,’ he said tersely, hauling his scattered wits together and the sheet higher. ‘I’m not. I have surgery. Saturday morning’s always frantic.’

  ‘I disagree.’

  ‘What do you mean-you disagree?’

  ‘I just did your surgery,’ she said. ‘That’s why I’m dressed like this-as opposed to you being dressed like you are. Very informal, I must say.’ Then, as colour started mounting under his tan, she kept right on going. ‘I figured I had to make a nice efficient impression first off-before everyone gets to know the real me. And it wasn’t frantic at all. It was great fun. I’ve met the nicest bunch of people.’ She grinned down at his confusion. ‘Mind you, I may have prescribed wart medicine for angina, or vice versa.’

  ‘You’re kidding,’ he said faintly, and she took pity on him and chuckled.

  ‘Yep. I’m kidding. I’m pretty sure I got everything right. Maureen-your nurse-receptionist-is just the greatest. She sat in with me and we had a copy of MIMS, which told us the brand names for the generic medicines, so I don’t think we’ve messed anything up. Maureen rang Ralph, the pharmacist, and you’re to pop in this afternoon and countersign everything. That’ll cover the legalities. But we did just fine.’

  ‘What…?’ He shook his head, trying to wake up. This felt just like a dream. ‘What have you seen? Who…?’

  ‘Lots of things.’ Tess hauled a chair from by the door and sat down beside him. ‘Lots of people. Eat your breakfast. It’s getting cold.’ She lifted the coffee-jug and poured two cups, one for Mike and one for her, then settled back like a visitor in a long-term hospital, here for the duration. Mike’s sense of unreality grew even stronger.

  ‘I saw Mrs Dingle’s arthritic knee,’ she told him-as though she’d really enjoyed the sensation. ‘I took out Susie Hearn’s stitches. I listened to Bert Sharey’s wheezy chest and his problems with his best heifer, and I gave him antibiotics and a lecture about smoking too much. I told Caroline Robertson she was pregnant, and then I had to tell her husband because they’ve been trying so long they didn’t believe me…’

  ‘Caroline Robertson’s pregnant?’

  ‘She’s about three months, I’d say,’ she said serenely. ‘It made me feel good to tell them. They’re very happy.’

  ‘You’re kidding.’ Mike shook his head. ‘Tess, do you know how important this is? If you’ve made a mistake…’

  ‘I don’t mistake pregnancy at three months.’ Tess appeared miffed. ‘I agree that some things might be different between Australians and Americans-like their nasal twang and the things they do to peanut butter-but pregnancy shouldn’t be included. I did a full examination and everything’s fine.’

  ‘But…’ Mike shook his head again in sheer disbelief. ‘The Robertsons have tried every treatment known to man, and then some. In January they finally stopped trying and applied for adoption.’

  ‘They can’t have stopped trying entirely.’ She grinned again, and then appeared once more to concentrate. ‘Who else? I can’t think. There were heaps of patients booked in. I’ve left all their cards out so you can see who I’ve seen and what I’ve done.’

  ‘And…the patients in hospital? They need-’ Mike was practically flabbergasted.

  ‘I’ve seen them, too,’ she said blithely. ‘I let Mrs Pritchard go home because she told me you’d promised she could today, and I couldn’t see any reason to keep her longer. I decided to keep Hal Connor’s drip in. It packed up about five a.m-that was when I checked on you-but I still think he needs the fluids.’ She paused. ‘Oh, and Grandpa-’

  ‘He’s OK?’

  ‘Yes. His electrolytes are almost back to normal and there’s nerve function all along the affected side. And he’s loving me working here.’ She smiled her pleasure. ‘Which makes two of us. Me and him. So, how about you, Dr Llewellyn? Are you happy to have me working here?’

  ‘I don’t seem to have a choice,’ he said slowly, munching into toast without thinking. God, this felt good. Weird but good. To have a long sleep followed by breakfast…

  The grey weight of exhaustion he’d been carrying had slipped from him and he felt ten years younger. He was confused, but at least now he wasn’t bone-weary. ‘Is there anything you haven’t done?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘What about what’s happening at the hotel?’

  Tessa’s smile faded. ‘Yeah, well… Everything can’t be good. But there’s news from Melbourne. Les is settled at the burns unit at the Alfred. He has a long road ahead of him but his condition didn’t deteriorate through the trip.’

  ‘But?’ Mike could tell here was something else. Tessa’s bright face had clouded.

  ‘I went down to what’s left of the hotel at about seven this morning. They were pulling… Well, they were pulling what may be the remains of Sam’s body from the ashes. I’ve identified it as human remains and it was hard enough to do that. I’ve organised for him to be brought into the mortuary, but the formal identification…’ She shrugged. ‘I’m afraid that might have to be up to you, Mike. You’ll need dental records. Medical records… I don’t know. I would have spared you that, but-’

  ‘Hell, you’ve done enough.’

  ‘No.’ Tess shook her head. ‘I haven’t done nearly enough.’ She clasped her hands with the same restfulness he’d seen the night before on the ambulance trip to the fire, and her face grew earnest.

  ‘Mike, the more I see, the more I know this is my sort of medicine,’ she said seriously. ‘In the States, medicine’s so specialised. Even if I choose to do family medicine, I won’t get to see anything like I saw this morning. I won’t get to see surgery or gynaecology or trauma. But here I see so much. In one short morning I’ve seen it all.’

  ‘It can be pretty mind-deadening,’ he told her flatly. ‘And it can be frightening. And sometimes it can be both. You’re coping with coughs and colds and people’s personal problems and life-threatening trauma all in the same day…’

  She bit her lip and thought this through, and when she nodded he knew she was sure. ‘I know. I know it can be dreadful and I know it can be dreary,’ she said finally. ‘But this is what I want. Probation or not, I want to work here, Mike. Regardless of Grandpa. This is where I want to be.’

  ‘Tessa…’ He stared at her, troubled. He didn’t know the first thing about this woman. She seemed so sure, but he wasn’t sure at all. All he did know of this woman scared him stupid.

  ‘I’m rushing you,’ she said softly, standing up again. ‘Finish your breakfast, have another cup of coffee and think about it. You’re on call for the hospital for the next couple of hours. That’s another reason I’m waking you now. I’ve been invited to a football match this afternoon, and before that I’m off to do an obstetrician’s house call.’

  ‘An obstetrician’s…’

  ‘To Doris the pig,’ she said c
heerfully. ‘Doris should be up to receiving visitors by now. I’m taking the Polaroid to get baby snaps for Grandpa. I’ll pass on your regards, shall I?’

  ‘Tess…’

  ‘Of course I shall,’ she said warmly. ‘After your help in delivering all those babies, it’d surprise me if Doris hasn’t named one of her sons Mike.’

  She left him to his breakfast, and she left him feeling as stunned as he’d ever felt in his life before.

  The day passed in a dream.

  For the first time in Mike couldn’t remember how long, he had little to do. He checked Tessa’s medical records and found nothing to complain of. She’d been thorough and competent and careful, and there was nothing that he wouldn’t have done himself. Baffled, he took Strop for a stroll down to the pharmacy to countersign Tessa’s prescriptions.

  ‘Your new partner’s a damned fine girl,’ Ralph, the town’s pharmacist, told him. ‘Our Wendy went in this morning all stirred up because her periods are irregular. She’s getting ’em every two months and she jumped at the chance of seeing a lady doctor.

  ‘Well, she’s come home happy as a lark. Dr Westcott told her she’d have to be the luckiest fourteen-year-old girl in the district to get a period only every two months. It’s what her mother’s been telling her over and over, but do you think Wendy’d listen? But your Dr Westcott did the trick.’

  The pharmacist sighed and dug his hands deep into the pockets of his white coat. ‘A woman doctor,’ he said in satisfaction. ‘That’s what this place needs. Plus…’ He grinned. ‘I can read her handwriting. A woman doctor with legible handwriting. Make her sign on the dotted line this minute.’

  Yeah, right…

  Mike came out of the pharmacy still troubled by a sense of unreality. This wasn’t happening.

  There were the sound of car hooters from down by the river and he glanced at his watch. It was mid-afternoon. The local football game would be in full swing.

  Football… ‘I’ve been invited to a football match,’ Tess had said.

  He paused in indecision. He had his mobile phone on his belt. The locals played rough and there were always one or two minor injuries, so any minute now the phone would buzz into life.

  He didn’t want to go back to the surgery.

  ‘I’ve been invited to a football match…’

  ‘What do you reckon, Strop? Do you feel like a football match?’

  So Mike strolled the two blocks to the football field, telling himself all the time it was just to save the players the trouble of coming to the surgery. Not that he believed it for a minute.

  The football competition here was a low-key, Australian Rules game. The ground had been marked out on the river flat, which meant whenever the river rose the games had to be cancelled. Four white posts were stuck in at each end of a roughly painted oval, and a players’ tent had been erected for each team. There was also a beer and pie tent. That was it. As a stadium it left a bit to be desired, but what the locals lacked in facilities they made up for in enthusiasm.

  There were cars parked all around the playing field. Saturday afternoon football here was a town ritual. The women watched from the cars, with Thermos flasks and picnic baskets wedged between them on the front seats. Many had travelled in from outlying farms, and this was their social contact for the week. The only way anyone knew they were watching football was when a goal was scored. Then the hooters blared out from every second car in the place.

  The men were made of sterner stuff, though, than to stay in the cars. They didn’t need the warmth-they left that to the women. Bellanor’s male population spent the game clustered around the beer tent-a hundred or so males spread no further than carting distance for the next round.

  The rest of the boundary was left to the kids and the teenagers.

  First off, Mike released Strop from his lead. From past experience, Strop would either spend the match hauling Mike’s arm off, trying to reach the pie tent, or he’d spend the match staring soulfully at pie tent customers, so as far as Mike could figure there was no choice. ‘Don’t eat too much,’ he told Strop. ‘Any more than one pie and you’re out of the car for a week.’

  Strop gave his tail a majestic wave and departed at a waddle.

  Strop-less, Mike made his way slowly around the ground toward the training tents. This was where he’d be needed, he told himself, trying hard not to keep a weather eye out for Tess.

  But somehow he found her. Tess was right in the middle of a huddle of teenagers. And what she was wearing… It was just plain extraordinary.

  Or maybe it wasn’t plain at all. Tess wore bright purple leggings, a brilliant yellow jacket and a purple cap with a yellow pompom. Oh, and purple Doc Martens on her feet for good measure.

  He blinked. The colours of the teams on the ground were red and black stripes and black and white stripes respectively so, in this sea of red and black and white, Tess stood out like a sore thumb.

  She was sublimely oblivious. Tessa was perched on the bonnet of Alf Sarret’s FJ Holden. Alf was a nineteen-year-old car fanatic who polished his car twice a day and wouldn’t let anyone look sideways at it much less sit on it, but Tessa was definitely sitting on it and she was talking and laughing as if she was nineteen years old and had known these kids all her life.

  She saw him from ten yards away and a brilliant purple arm shot upwards in a wave.

  ‘Mike. Come over here. Isn’t this the craziest game? The kids have been teaching me the rules-or rather trying to teach me the rules. I think you need to be a third-generation Australian to understand them. Why aren’t you wearing team colours? And who are we barracking for?’

  ‘Who are we…?’

  ‘The kids say I need to choose, and I need to choose now,’ she said. ‘Apparently I can’t stay in this town without swearing allegiance to a Bellanor football club. The only trouble is-do I swear allegiance to Bellanor South Football Club or Bellanor North Football Club?’ She looked around at her crowd of bemused teenagers. ‘The camp here appears to be evenly divided,’ she said. ‘And I know Grandpa hates football. So I figure…if you and I intend to be partners then I’d better barrack for who you barrack for.’ She grinned. ‘The kids say otherwise we’ll fight.’

  If you and I intend to be partners…

  He thought fleetingly of what he’d always imagined a partner might be. He’d thought of a sober, conscientious middle-aged doctor with whom he could share the load. Not this…this…this pompommed purple and yellow apparition!

  ‘Jancourt,’ he said faintly. It was all he could think of to say, and the word was met by a howl of derision from the teenagers.

  ‘Yeah?’ Tessa wasn’t put off by the teenagers’ reaction. Her eyes rested on Mike’s face and she twinkled down at him. She dug her hands deep into the pockets of her extraordinary yellow jacket and nodded. ‘OK. If you say so, Mike, then I’ll barrack for Jancourt. Tell me about our team.’

  ‘But Jancourt’s hopeless,’ Alf interrupted. He had nobly allowed Tess to sit on his car and was now acting as if he was in charge of her. ‘Don’t do it, Doc. Jancourt’s the lousiest team. They lose every week.’

  ‘Jancourt’s more a name than a place,’ Mike agreed. ‘It’s all they can do to scratch eighteen men. In fact, sometimes they play with up to half a dozen men short, and their back line has an average age of about sixty.’

  ‘It sounds just my sort of team,’ Tessa said with aplomb, and Mike grinned.

  ‘It is,’ he told her. ‘If you barrack for North or South Bellanor, then every Monday morning you’ll be looked at by half the population as if it’s all your fault that they’re feeling ill. If you barrack for Jancourt…well, every Monday morning all you’ll get is sympathy.’

  ‘Very wise.’ Tess seemed perfectly satisfied with the logic. ‘And what are our colours?’

  ‘Sorry, Tessa. Not purple and yellow.’

  ‘Rats. These are the colours of my very favourite football team at home. The Vikings.’

  ‘They’re a bit
loud,’ Mike said faintly, and Tessa’s smile widened.

  ‘Loud! You want loud? The true Vikings uniform has a hat with horns! Or I could be a fan of the Green Bay Packers. My mom follows the Green Bay Packers and she gets to wear cheese on her head. This is sedate in comparison.’

  ‘Cheese?’ Tess had the whole bunch of teenagers riveted to their conversation, and Tessa was revelling in it.

  ‘I kid you not.’ She chuckled. ‘I swear. Green Bay Packer fans wear vast slabs of cheese on their heads-don’t ask me why. The Vikings are a sensible, sane football team that a sensible, sane girl like me can follow with pride. I’ll follow them to the death-I’ll even wear horns-but when football clubs expect their fans to wear cheeses and a girl’s mother says she’s being undutiful by changing to the Vikings, well, it’s enough to make a girl migrate all the way to Australia.’

  ‘I expect it is,’ Mike managed faintly.

  ‘So what are the Jancourt team colours?’ she demanded.

  ‘Cream and brown.’

  ‘Ugh.’ Tessa’s pert nose wrinkled in distaste. Then she shrugged. ‘Never mind. I love purple and yellow, but I can’t have everything.’ Her smile returned in full and Mike could only stare.

  Tess looked totally, perfectly happy. She looked as if she’d lived here all her life, and as if there was nothing more she could ask of life than to sit in a cold wind on a teenage boy’s ancient jalopy and cheer a football game where she didn’t even understand the rules.

  She’d fit into this valley as if she’d been born here, Mike thought, wondering. In one half of one football game, Tess had managed to woo and win the town’s teenage population. The group Tess was in made up the most popular kids in town and there were more teenagers sidling up to the edges of the group every minute. By tomorrow, the word would be around town that there was a new lady doctor in town and she was great!