Strangely, there was a note of reluctance in his voice as if he understood the pressures building up on her and really didn’t want to leave.
And Jess didn’t want him to leave, either. To go across to her half of the building and try to block out what Lionel Hurd was doing to her friend…
To just have to hope that the man really was competent…
‘Paige is waiting,’ Niall said roughly. He looked from Jess to the sea beyond and then back again. His gaze almost seemed to be magnetised to the slim young vet.
Something was growing between them. Something intangible that Jess didn’t want to explore.
The Ogre of Barega…
It would be better if he went right back to being an ogre. Easier for everyone…
Safer…
‘I…We’ll be right,’ Jess said slowly. And then, as a thought struck her, ‘My car…It’s still on the ridge.’
‘I’ll organise it to be brought back to the hospital.’
‘You can do that?’
‘I can do that—keys, please?’
Jess flipped the keys from her pocket.
‘Niall…’
‘Yes?’
‘Thank you,’ she said simply and watched his face.
‘I wish I could say it was my pleasure,’ Niall told her, and his face changed. He fingered the car keys and didn’t meet her eyes. ‘I’m starting to think, though…I’m starting to think it’d be better if I’d never met you.’
Mid-afternoon…
Mid-afternoon of a weekday and Jess was so far behind that she didn’t know where to start.
Lunch?
She’d gone past it. She wasn’t the least bit hungry.
She’d promised one of the local farmers to drive out and check a mastitis-affected cow. She’d do that as soon as her car was back. There was normally a small animal clinic at four and she needed to check Harry—and feed one orphaned wallaby and one tiny wombat.
And worry about Frank…
And think about Niall Mountmarche…
Ogre of Barega.
All those things she somehow fitted into her crazy day but by the time Jess slumped down at her kitchen table that night it was eight o’clock and her stomach was growling in hunger.
OK, OK…
Jess opened a can of soup, made some toast and then slumped down again.
And then looked over to where Harry was lying.
The dog had opened his eyes and was looking at her with definite interest.
Or was he looking at her toast?
Smiling, Jessie carried a quarter of a slice of toast over to where Harry lay. She held it to his mouth and the dog lifted it off her palm with a delicate tongue.
Even half-starved, this dog had manners.
‘Hey, Harry,’ Jessie smiled, her heart warming in delight
They shared another slice of toast in companionable silence, the big dog’s tail moving wearily back and forth in token wag mode. Finally, replete with toast, Harry settled back to sleep.
He’d make it.
Would his master?
Jessie chewed her bottom lip. She wasn’t welcome in the hospital. If she went over and Lionel Hurd was there…
She’d be thrown out on her ear.
Still…
Lionel usually did a fast ward round at six and then went back to his own quarters on the other side of the building. Jess had her own ideas of what he did then, augmented by the number of whisky bottles found in the hospital garbage since Lionel’s arrival.
He’d be well into his bottle for the night, she decided. Maybe it was safe.
She couldn’t stand not knowing.
It was all she could do not to tiptoe through the hospital corridors to Frank’s room. There was an elderly lady with a sprained ankle in the women’s ward and there was no sound there—but there was movement in the men’s ward.
Jess stopped and listened and then her face cleared as she heard a woman’s voice.
Geraldine.
Geraldine was one of the island’s two senior nurses. Middle-aged and competent, she’d elected to do night duty when Sarah started working. By the sound of it Geraldine was talking to Frank.
So at least Frank wasn’t dead.
Frank Reid was still an extremely sick man but his grey colour had receded a degree or two. He lay motionless against his mound of pillows but his eyes followed Geraldine round the room and they moved to the door and lit up when Jessie entered.
‘Jess…’
It was an exhausted whisper but it was so much better than last time she’d entered this room that Jess practically burst into tears.
‘Hey, Frank…’ She crossed to the bed and gave him a swift kiss. ‘How goes it?’
‘I reckon I’ll live. Geraldine’s bossing me into it.’
‘I sure am.’ Geraldine gave Jess a worried look. ‘Jess, this is awful. I’m feeling dreadful about it. Sarah’s told me what’s happened. I knew Frank was diabetic but assumed the blood-sugar tests were being done during the day. Sarah wasn’t confident of working nights on her own so we organised her to be on day duty when Dr Hurd would be around to support her—but arrangements seem to have gone badly wrong.’
In other words, Geraldine hadn’t been able to supervise Sarah and Dr Hurd had been incompetent.
‘It’s not too bad,’ Jess said swiftly, signalling Geraldine with her eyes to change the subject. This conversation couldn’t go further without discussing Dr Hurd—and Lionel was still Frank’s treating doctor. Jess smiled down at Frank. ‘It can’t be too bad, can it? Frank looks like he’ll live.’
‘And Harry, too?’ Frank asked eagerly. ‘Tell me, girl…’
It was a pleasant respite—to sit on the bed and describe Harry’s rescue to Frank and Geraldine. At the end they both stared at her, astonished.
‘Well, I never!’ Geraldine said roundly. ‘The Ogre of Barega turning out to be human. A doctor and a father, too.’
‘Yes.’ Jessie’s face clouded at the sudden remembrance of Paige. There was something there that wasn’t right. It was the child who seemed to be haunted—not the ogre.
Her eyes flicked up to Frank’s drip. The saline bag was almost empty.
‘How many litres has Frank had?’ she asked.
‘Three.’ Geraldine frowned. ‘I’ve another bag ready but Dr Hurd hasn’t left any orders. Should I put it up?’
‘What would you normally do?’
‘Ring and ask him.’
‘Then ring and ask,’ Jessie said steadily. There was no way that Jess could operate as back-up doctor. Unethical in the extreme and totally unworkable. She stood up and smiled a farewell to Frank. ‘I expect Dr Hurd will check you before he goes to bed, anyway. I’ll pop in tomorrow.’
She’d pop in during Lionel Hurd’s clinic times when he was safely out of the way.
The words weren’t said but each person in the room knew what Jessie meant.
Geraldine grimaced.
‘Only six more months until our proper doctors come back,’ she muttered. ‘They can’t come back fast enough for me.’
‘Or me either,’ Jess agreed.
Her long day was finally over.
Jess was more than ready for bed. She showered swiftly, checked her invalid animals one last time and headed for her pillows with speed—only to be stopped by a tap on the door.
Now what?
Jess’s flat was at the back of the vet clinic and Lionel’s flat was at the rear of the hospital, making four rather unequal quarters to the rambling medical complex.
The door being knocked on was internal—so it was someone from the hospital doing the knocking.
Lionel…
Jess pulled on a long robe and buttoned it to the neck. Lionel had knocked on her door after whisky before—and was a much friendlier proposition than the daytime Lionel.
She preferred his daytime aggression.
Jess opened the door an inch—and then pulled it wide. Geraldine.
‘You weren
’t in bed yet?’ Geraldine asked, her face creased with worry. ‘Jess, I hate to disturb you but…’
‘Is there something wrong with Frank?’
‘No.’ Geraldine shook her head. ‘He’s still recovering. I put the next saline bag up, but I had to do it without orders. Dr Hurd hasn’t been back—and he doesn’t answer his phone.’
Jess frowned. As the island’s only doctor, Lionel Hurd carried a mobile phone with him wherever he went. Even if he was on the other side of the island he should still be carrying it.
Jess glanced at her watch. It was still only nine o’clock. She went to bed early because of her broken sleep with animal feeds—but the rest of the island should be still awake.
‘Maybe the phone’s not functioning.’
‘That’s just it,’ Geraldine fretted. ‘I thought I’d test it. I rang the number and then let it ring while I went to the doctor’s flat. I can hear it ringing out in his living room.’
‘Then he’s gone out without taking it,’ Jess said grimly. It broke all the rules of Lionel’s contract to do so—but the man was angry enough to do anything tonight.
‘Maybe he’s down at the pub.’
‘No.’ Geraldine’s face grew more troubled. ‘Jess, I think there’s something really wrong…’
‘You mean, he’s in trouble?’
‘No.’ The nurse hesitated. ‘When I couldn’t find him I rang Sarah at home, thinking at least he might have given her specific orders for numbers of saline units. One of Sarah’s boys reckons he saw Dr Hurd board this afternoon’s plane out to the mainland. Sarah thought he must be mistaken—but now I can’t find him…’
Jessie stared.
Today was Wednesday and on three afternoons a week a passenger jet left for Sydney. One of those afternoons was Wednesday.
‘He wouldn’t just leave.’ Jess shook her head in bewilderment. ‘Would he?’
Geraldine met her anxious look. ‘There’s a spare key to his flat on the master set,’ she said diffidently. ‘You have the master set, Jess.’
‘Y-yes.’
Jess didn’t want to use it. To use it was to confirm a nightmare.
The nightmare was real.
Geraldine and Jess opened the door of Lionel’s flat and were met by chaos. The flat had been turned upside down and it didn’t take more than a moment to see that most of the doctor’s belongings were missing.
‘He’s done a bunk,’ Geraldine stammered. She turned to Jess, bewilderment written across her face.
‘But why?’
Jess closed her eyes. ‘Geraldine, your husband’s on the island board of management, isn’t he?’
‘Yes.’
‘When Dr Hurd applied for the locum position…do you know if anyone verified his qualifications?’
Geraldine stared. ‘I guess…Maybe not. I mean, we were desperate. The last doctor had to go in such a hurry. But Dr Hurd…Well, why would he lie?’
Why indeed?
‘Niall Mountmarche will know,’ Jess said slowly. ‘He was going to check. I don’t know whether it was just a threat or if he really meant to find out if Lionel’s qualifications were OK—but it seems Niall Mountmarche has lost us our island doctor.’
‘If Lionel Hurd ever was one,’ Geraldine said shortly. The capable nurse was almost visibly bracing herself for a rocky future. She met Jessie’s look with grim determination. ‘Where does that leave us, Jess? Without a doctor at all? And for how long?’
‘I guess we still have Dr Mountmarche…’ Jess was thinking aloud but she hardly believed the words as she said them. ‘If Niall Mountmarche is really a doctor himself. I suppose we don’t even know that. Good grief!’
‘Niall Mountmarche saved Frank Reid’s life,’ Geraldine said solidly. ‘He’s a better bet than Lionel Hurd ever was. All you have to do, Jess, is persuade him to help us.’
‘Oh, yeah…’ Visions of the Ogre of Barega flooded back and Jessie visibly flinched.
‘Well, at least you know him,’ Geraldine reasoned. ‘I guess if you don’t succeed we can send an island deputation. But I think you should try first, Jess.’
‘What, now?’
Geraldine smiled. ‘Well, maybe give him until morning. I’ll keep Frank’s saline drip going overnight. It can’t hurt, after all, even if I don’t have specific orders. His blood sugar’s still dropping. Tomorrow, though…Well, I’ll need a doctor to assess further insulin dosage and antibiotic levels. So, as long as you talk this Dr Mountmarche into starting by lunchtime…’
‘Geraldine, I get the feeling the man doesn’t want anyone going near the place—much less persuading him to come out on a regular basis. If he doesn’t want to…’
‘He must.’ Geraldine spread her hands. ‘Jess, you either persuade him to come or we’ll have to airlift Frank off the island—plus every other emergency that comes to hand. He has to help us. Surely…’
Surely.
‘Get yourself a good night’s sleep first,’ Geraldine advised kindly. ‘It’s never a good idea to tackle ogres after a sleepless night.’
‘Gee, thanks,’ Jess said expressively. ‘That really helps, Geraldine. I bet I’ll sleep like a baby.’
CHAPTER FOUR
SLEEP like a baby!
Jess slept for maybe all of ten minutes and it was a heavy-eyed vet who drove out to the vineyard the next morning.
The sign was still on the gate.
TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT.
‘Oh, help,’ Jess whispered to no one in particular as she stopped to haul open the gate.
Oh, help…
Niall Mountmarche was home. There was smoke curling from the chimney in the still morning air and up on the ridge Jess could hear a tractor working among the vines.
It must be Hugo on the tractor. As Jess pulled up by the farmhouse Niall Mountmarche emerged from the back door.
The man was wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else. Tanned and naked to the waist, the sight of the man almost took Jessie’s breath away. The sun glinted on his bronzed skin and Jessie’s very proper upbringing was at complete odds with how she felt.
Good grief…
‘Dr Harvey…’
As a welcome it could have been better. Niall’s voice was like a douche of cold water.
‘Dr Mountmarche…’ If he could be formal then so could she. Jess climbed from her small sedan and faced him.
She’d dressed a little more carefully this morning—in jeans, to match his, and a clean white blouse. She never looked her age, she knew, but at least this morning she didn’t have grubby, scratched knees and her blonde-brown hair was neatly brushed and tied back from her face.
‘What can I do for you?’ Still the absurd formality.
‘I…We need your help,’ Jess started, her words faltering.
If only the man didn’t look…didn’t look…well, so darned male! It was enough to make any self-respecting female get in her car and bolt for cover.
Her mother had never warned her of reactions like this.
‘My help?’ he asked non-committally and waited for more.
‘Lionel Hurd has left.’
‘Has he?’ Niall’s voice grew suddenly thoughtful. There was a bench beside the back door. Niall lifted a shirt from a pile of clothing and absently pulled it on. ‘Well, well…’
‘It doesn’t surprise you?’
‘No.’
‘You scared him off.’
‘I guess you could say that.’ Niall cast a glance inside the house as though checking that there was no one within earshot and then relaxed a little. ‘He’s not qualified, you know.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, you damned well should. I made a couple of phone calls last night. The man failed fourth-year medicine. He got himself into some alcoholic mess and dropped out. After that. .well, he attempted to restart at a couple of interstate universities but never got anywhere. He’s in trouble with the New South Wales police for impersonating a doctor and for some scam involving fake cancer t
herapies.
‘I intended to ring the island police this morning after talking to you but it seems the threat of exposure was enough to make our Dr Hurd run.’
‘I see.’
Jess bit her lip.
Niall hadn’t come near her. He was standing by the back door as if waiting for her to say her piece and go. Fast.
‘How’s Frank?’ he asked.
‘He’s recovering.’ Jess took a deep breath. ‘I…We need to know insulin dosages and flow rates for the drip. And the antibiotic regime. The nurses need their orders.’
‘You’ll have to get yourselves a doctor, then.’
Jess shook her head. ‘There are none available. That’s why we accepted Lionel. It’s October. The medical year ends at Christmas and everyone’s safely in jobs until then. Even if there was one free it would take a month to advertise and have them respond.’
‘Then you have a problem, Dr Harvey,’ Niall said brusquely. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help you.’
‘You can.’
‘No.’
There was silence. The sound of the tractor was muted in the hills behind them. There were cockatiels in the high gums around the house, chattering in early-morning excitement.
Nothing else.
‘Please…’ Jess said at last. ‘Otherwise, Frank has to go to the mainland. We’ll have to arrange an emergency airlift. And it wouldn’t hurt…’
‘Wouldn’t hurt who?’
‘You.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Niall said roughly. And then swore as a child’s cry came from inside. ‘Dr Harvey, you’ll have to leave…’
And he turned and walked inside.
Jess didn’t.
TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT.
The sign’s harsh warning sounded over in her head but Jess stayed where she was.
She was fighting for Frank.
And maybe she was fighting for something she didn’t understand herself.
She closed her eyes, searching for courage, and then walked into the house after him.
The first room was a massive kitchen, bigger than Jessie’s. Like Jessie’s, it had a vast slow combustion stove.
Prescription—One Bride Page 5
