The Doctor’s Special Touch

by Marion Lennox

  Still, there was no doubting that she was frightened about her chest pain, Darcy thought, watching her wince a little as she talked. He stopped her from heaving the suitcase off her bed, and made her sit while he listened to her chest and took her blood pressure. It was erratic enough for him to think maybe the excitement of the afternoon had been a blessing. She needed to be admitted, and if that was what it took…

  ‘OK. A couple of days’ bed rest while we get the angina under control will suit you fine,’ he told her. ‘Dr Harper will be here on Thursday and I’ll get him to see you.’ Ross Harper was a visiting cardiologist and he’d treated Marilyn before.

  ‘That will be very nice, dear,’ Marilyn said serenely. ‘And do you know what else I want to do while I’m in your hospital?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I want to have a nice little massage. I’ve heard our Ally is wonderful. Do you think she’d do hospital visits?’

  He practically choked. Massage visits…

  ‘I can’t see why she wouldn’t,’ Marilyn added, serenely confident that her plan would go ahead. ‘Can you?’

  ‘Um…’ Think of a reason, he told himself desperately. ‘I haven’t had her professional qualifications checked.’

  ‘Do you think she’s a liar?’ Marilyn sounded shocked, and he had to bite his tongue.

  ‘No,’ he said shortly as he helped her into his car. ‘I don’t.’ There was silence for a bit as he drove but he was sure Marilyn had been a glorious gossip all her life. Maybe…

  ‘Do you know someone called Gareth Hatfield?’ he asked her.

  ‘Oh, no, dear.’ Marilyn nestled back on the sumptuous leather and sighed with pleasure. One of the reasons he’d bought this car had been that his patients loved it. Sure, there was an ambulance for transporting patients but it was an ancient battered truck. If possible, most of his patients elected to use Darcy’s free Mercedes service.

  Did she know Gareth Hatfield?

  ‘Not any more,’ she told him.

  ‘But you did once?’

  ‘He was a few years older than I was. Not a very nice man, dear. He owned so much land around here and he made such a profit selling it to those who’d leased it from him for years and years. No. Not a nice man. He never lived here-he just used to come and harass people into paying more than they could afford. And then that boy of his…he was a bad lot.’

  ‘Jerry?’

  ‘Jerome. He lived with his mother, and as far as I know he hardly ever came here, but when he did-ooh, he was a nasty little boy. His father used to come to check on his properties, and while he and the bank manager discussed how much they could make from the locals, Jerome would swagger round as if he owned the place. I seem to remember he and Ally’s father were friends for a while-or Jerry ordered and Tony followed-but that came to nothing. They were worlds apart.’

  Friends? Jerry and Ally’s father had been friends?

  There were so many unanswered questions.

  But there was no time to think of the answers. For the next thirty minutes Darcy had to force himself to concentrate purely on medicine. He had to force himself to treat Marilyn as she needed to be treated-as someone who was in real danger of coronary disaster.

  But the questions stayed in the back of his mind. There was so much he wanted to know.

  Dr Ally Westruther…

  He knew so little, but the more he found out, the more he wanted to discover.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  BY THE time Darcy reached the refuge, it was ten at night. Maybe they’d be settled, he thought. Most of the lights were out. The big central room was still illuminated, however, and he walked in to find Ally standing in front of the fireplace. Someone had lit a fire and the crackle and glow of the flames was a warmth all by itself.

  There was a woman in an armchair before the fire. Lorraine? Ally was standing behind her, gently running her fingers through her hair.

  The scene was so different to the chaos of the afternoon that he stopped short in astonishment. Lorraine looked almost asleep, her head tilted back and her eyes closed.

  Ally looked across at him and smiled, but her fingers kept on with their dreamy rub.

  ‘Here’s Dr Rochester,’ she said softly. ‘Come to check on all of us. Too late. Everyone’s asleep, Dr Rochester, except for Lorraine and she soon will be.’

  I would be, too, Darcy thought, dazed, if those hands did that to me.

  ‘The kids?’ he managed, and Ally’s smile deepened. There was huge personal satisfaction for her in this day’s work, he thought, though he couldn’t understand why.

  ‘They’re washed and fed and settled. Tommy and Deidre and Lilly and baby Dot. I’ve checked them all. There’s no signs of illness, though all of them are still bearing their chickenpox scars.’

  ‘I need to check.’

  ‘I don’t want you waking them.’

  ‘You want me to accept your word?’

  ‘I do.’ She was still calmly massaging Lorraine’s head, running her hands through the woman’s newly washed hair again and again. Lorraine’s hair was a nondescript brown, normally plaited, greasy and dull. Now it hung down her back in soft, shimmering waves. The woman’s face, strained and distressed every time Darcy had seen her, now looked years younger.

  ‘Isn’t she pretty?’ Ally asked, as if guessing his thoughts. And then, as Lorraine cautiously opened her eyes, Ally let her hands drop to Lorraine’s shoulders. ‘Better?’

  ‘You can’t believe how much,’ Lorraine whispered. ‘You’re sure… We… He can’t…’

  ‘I’d imagine Jerry’s in jail and likely to stay that way,’ Ally told her.

  ‘But without him…’

  ‘Without him you’ll do very well. You and Penny and Margaret are firm friends and the kids love each other. There’s no need to separate. You can pool your pensions and live happily ever after, somewhere where you don’t have to cart water or go without food or put your kids at risk. Isn’t that right Dr Rochester?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Darcy was still struggling with the sensation that he was out of time-out of space. ‘Um…the men?’

  ‘Robert and Greg are sleeping in the other wing,’ she told him. ‘Robert’s face is the biggest worry. It’ll need attention almost straightaway. I was hoping you might be here soon enough to give him something for the pain, but after a hot shower and a big dinner he thought he might go to sleep anyway. I gave him as much paracetamol as I could.’

  ‘You…’

  ‘I don’t think it’s affecting the eye yet,’ she told him, seemingly oblivious to his astonishment. ‘But you need to see him first thing in the morning.’

  ‘You’re organising me?’

  ‘Yes, Doctor,’ she said meekly-and to his absolute astonishment, Lorraine giggled.

  A giggle.

  Since Sam’s death he’d been going up to the ridge once a month, whether they liked it or not, checking on the children. In all of that time he hadn’t seen so much as a smile.

  And here was a giggle.

  He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it. A butterfly emerging from an ugly grey chrysalis.

  ‘Is Marigold OK?’ Lorraine asked, but there wasn’t the desperate concern he’d assumed she’d have for her daughter. Ally’s massage almost seemed to have her drugged. ‘And Jody and David?’

  ‘They’re fine,’ he told her. ‘Jody’s settling. We’ve put Marigold on intravenous antibiotics and I think her arm should show signs of recovery within twenty-four hours. She’s already asleep. And David was sitting up in bed drinking a thick-shake as I left him.’

  ‘There,’ Ally said in quiet satisfaction. ‘All fixed. Didn’t I tell you Dr Rochester was wonderful? A real-life hero. With a name like Darcy Rochester, what do you expect?’

  She smiled at him. They were both smiling at him. The look they were giving him was a sort of female conspiratorial look, like he was…some sort of hunk on the front of a romance novel?

  Good grief.
He had to get out of here, he thought desperately. Any minute now he’d start to blush.

  But Ally was moving on. ‘I’ll show you where you’re sleeping,’ she said to Lorraine, breaking a silence which suddenly seemed to Darcy to be almost unbearable. ‘Do you think you’ll sleep?’

  ‘Of course I’ll sleep,’ the woman told her. ‘And you don’t need to show me. I’ve already seen. You know, there’s an electric blanket on my bed? Oh, the warmth.’ Lorraine rose on legs that were a little shaky. She’d turned from admiring Darcy-much to Darcy’s relief-and now she gripped Ally’s hands. ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’

  ‘I only did what you would have done yourselves in a day or two,’ Ally told her, and Darcy thought that, no, she was wrong there, but maybe it was a way of giving the woman’s pride back to her. ‘Things just came to a head when I was there. Now, you’re not to worry. You know the kids are safe. The future will be taken care of. Elsa’s coming back in the morning to talk practicalities with all of you, but everything’s going to be better. I promise.’

  ‘Oh, my dear.’

  ‘Go to bed, Lorraine,’ Ally said softly. ‘Go to sleep. For as long as you want.’

  They were left alone.

  The marine refuge had been built by the harbour, and the long living room was used by the fishermen as a meeting place when the pub was unsuitable-when they needed clear heads to make decisions. It was filled with big, squashy armchairs, the fire was set in a vast stone fireplace, and the windows looked over the bluff to the lighthouse beyond.

  From here they could hear the waves crashing on the shore. The sound of the sea, the crackle of the fire and the fact that the overhead lights were low…it lent the place an intimacy that seemed almost overwhelming.

  Darcy stared across at Ally, trying to adjust to what was happening. She was much as he’d met her on the doorstep a few hours ago, but now she’d been in the bush, pushed aside a few chooks, bathed a few kids, hugged some adults. Maybe she’d even wept a bit.

  She looked bedraggled, he thought. She looked exhausted and battered and worn. But still she looked…lovely?

  ‘Can I drive you home?’

  ‘That’d be great,’ she said faintly, then hesitated. ‘How’s Jody? Were you telling the truth to Lorraine-that she’s settling?’

  ‘It appears so.’ For some stupid reason he was having trouble with his voice. She was throwing him off balance and he didn’t know why. Jody. Concentrate on Jody. ‘Her obs are settling a little. The fluid is starting to take effect. But, hell, Ally, if we hadn’t got her out of there she’d have been dead by this time tomorrow.’

  ‘You would have taken her anyway,’ she said slowly. ‘You were planning on picking her up and carting her down here, whatever the consequences.’

  The only way to answer that was with the truth. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I guessed you were. But the fuss… You could have been sued for abduction.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘So I saved you from going to prison.’ Her irrepressible smile peeped out. ‘How nice. Does that rate another sandwich?’

  That took him aback. ‘You can’t possibly be hungry?’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s five hours since I last ate and that was a mere snack.’

  He thought about the food she’d put away and he grinned. ‘Yeah. An appetiser. Didn’t you eat here?’

  ‘I was bathing kids when the adults were fed, and I was hugging adults when the kids were fed. The lady who runs this place-Cornelia, is it?-didn’t think of feeding me.’

  ‘I’ll take you home now.’

  ‘Fat lot of good that’ll do.’ She dug into her pocket and produced two banknotes. ‘These are a real mockery at ten at night when every store in the place is closed. And I so wanted a steak.’ She sounded mournful.

  ‘You don’t have anything at home?’ he asked, startled.

  ‘I have my grocery money right here,’ she said with dignity. ‘I was planning on shopping when you picked me up.’

  Hey! ‘I did not pick you up.’

  ‘What else do you call it? You ruined my plans. You interfered with my shopping.’

  ‘Surely you have an egg or something.’

  She glowered. ‘I have tea bags.’

  He choked. ‘Yum.’

  ‘Yeah. So take me home. My tea bags are waiting.’ She managed a martyr’s groan. ‘But who am I to complain? After all, I have my satisfaction to keep me warm.’

  ‘You really enjoyed sending Jerry to jail?’

  Her smile this time was genuine. ‘You don’t know how much. It’s worth every tummy rumble.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me about Jerry?’

  ‘You know about Jerry.’

  ‘Only what he’s done here. That won’t get him put in jail.’

  ‘No.’ She smiled again, and her smile was suddenly tinged with sadness. ‘And it’s so hard to get a conviction. But they won’t let him go. Not with what I’ve told them. He won’t even get out on bail with his previous record for absconding.’

  ‘So how do you know him?’ he asked curiously. They were standing before the open fire in a strange setting of forced intimacy and he thought she might tell him things now that she otherwise wouldn’t. And suddenly he badly wanted to know.

  ‘My parents were mixed up with him,’ she told him.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said flatly. The fire spat behind her and a log rolled forward onto the grate. She walked forward to push it back with the poker and he frowned.

  ‘You’re limping.’

  ‘I’m not limping.’

  ‘You’re limping.’

  ‘You’re imagining it.’

  He stared down at her feet-to the inappropriate flip-flops. And he remembered something that had been pushed into the background amongst the drama up on the ridge.

  Jerry kicking a pile of firewood. A branch swinging forward with a resounding thump against Ally’s foot.

  ‘He hurt you.’

  ‘Jerry can’t hurt me.’

  ‘Sit down, Ally,’ he told her.

  ‘I’m not-’

  He put his hands on her shoulders and propelled her backward into the chair Lorraine had just vacated. He flicked on the reading light beside the chair and a pool of light illuminated her slight frame.

  She looked really young, he thought suddenly. And really…scared?

  ‘Hey, I won’t hurt you.’

  ‘I know you won’t hurt me,’ she said with some indignation. ‘Let me up.’ She tried to rise but his hands gripped her again and held.

  ‘Stay.’

  ‘Like a dog.’ She glowered.

  ‘If you like. Behave. Let me see your foot.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong.’

  But he was kneeling before her, flicking the flip-flop from her foot and raising it to the light.

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘That’s my line,’ she told him.

  ‘Well, why aren’t you using it?’ He shifted her foot a little so the light was better, grimacing. ‘Hell, Ally, there’s a massive splinter in here.’

  ‘Gee, that makes me feel better,’ she retorted. ‘I know I have a splinter. I’ll dig it out when I have a shower.’

  ‘It’s too deep.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be deep if you hadn’t said massive,’ she said, and her voice was suddenly a trifle unsure. ‘How massive?’

  ‘You haven’t looked?’

  ‘When would I have had time to look?’ She grabbed her foot from him and bent it up so she was peering at her heel. It was such an unguarded gesture. What other woman he knew would do that? He stared at her vulnerable head, bent over her foot, and he felt something inside tug. Hard.

  ‘Ouch is right.’ She stared for a moment longer and then put her foot down. ‘But it’ll come out.’

  ‘I’ll see to it now.’

  ‘I’ll see to it myself.’

  ‘Ally, I don’t think it’s going to come out with a pair of tweez
ers,’ he told her. ‘It’s deep and long and it looks as if it’s in parts. I’ll give you a local anaesthetic and get the thing fully cleaned.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ He stood back and fixed her with a goaded look. ‘So you’ve gone to all that trouble to save Jody from infection, yet you sail into infection yourself-all because you’re scared of a local anaesthetic.’

  ‘I’m not scared.’

  ‘Good girl,’ he told her, and grabbed his bag.

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘Shut up. I’m working,’ he told her.

  ‘I can-’

  ‘You can’t.’ He lifted her foot again, inspected it carefully, then sighed and rose to fetch a bowl of warm water from the sink at the side of the room.

  She half rose as if to leave.

  He turned and gazed at her-holding her eyes with his.

  She glowered again-and then sank back into her chair.

  ‘You think you’re so indispensable,’ she muttered.

  ‘Maybe I am.’ He smiled. ‘I can’t imagine you massaging a splinter out of a foot.’

  ‘No, but-’

  ‘And there’s not a single essential oil that has splinter removal as one of its properties.’

  ‘Oh, shut up,’ she told him.

  He grinned. ‘You could at least be grateful.’

  ‘I’m grateful.’

  ‘Good.’ He came back to her and started loading a syringe. ‘This might sting a little.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. I know exactly what “sting a little” means when it’s a needle into your foot. It means sending me through the roof.’

  ‘You need a bullet to bite,’ he told her, and she grimaced.

  ‘I’d rather have steak. This is not turning out to be my day, Dr Rochester.’

  ‘But you have put Jerry in jail.’

  ‘There is that,’ she said, brightening a little.

  ‘OK.’ He swabbed the side of her foot, waited until he could see she was ready and then injected.

  She bit her lip-hard-and then nodded.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Good girl.’

  ‘Don’t patronise me.’

  ‘I would never patronise you, Ally,’ he told her. ‘I think you’re wonderful.’