English Rose in the Outback

by Lucy Clark

  ‘Very rarely and usually it’s only half a glass of champagne at a wedding or something like that.’ He shrugged when she looked at him. ‘I’ve been the only doctor here for over a year now. I don’t have the luxury of being inebriated, even a little bit, not when a patient’s life depends on my powers of deductive reasoning.’ He lifted his arms out in front, mimicking a superhero.

  ‘So why do you go to the pub?’

  ‘To talk to people. To be sociable. In such a small town, it’s just like going around to a friend’s place and enjoying a drink while you’re there. Even the local police officer, Henry, goes on a Friday. He doesn’t drink either. Said he’s seen too many drunks and what they can do to themselves.’

  ‘Agreed.’ They were passing the clinic and then she found herself stepping off the large gutter and crossing the wide road to get to the pub. ‘Noisy already,’ she remarked, bemused by the number of utility trucks and dirt-covered cars parked in the street.

  ‘Welcome to a Meeraji Lake tradition,’ he said as he opened the screen door for her. They found a table and, after she’d sat down, he immediately went to the bar to order their drinks. Several people called, ‘G’day,’ to her and she smiled politely and waved back.

  When Oscar joined her again, he was holding two large glasses with straws and little umbrellas in them. She’d let him choose the mocktails and as she took her first sip she was pleasantly surprised at the fruity concoction. Oscar clinked his glass to hers and daintily pushed his umbrella to the side of the glass so it didn’t poke him in the eye.

  ‘Drinking the girlie drinks again, Doc?’ one of the blokes at the bar called, the comment being received with raucous laughter.

  ‘You need to get in touch with your feminine side, Bazza. Besides, you’ll thank me for being sober the next time I have to put stitches into your head.’ This time the raucous laughter was aimed at Bazza, who seemed to take the teasing in a good-natured way.

  ‘Whenever there’s a bar brawl, you’ll find Bazza right in the middle of it,’ Oscar explained to Daisy. He’d leaned closer to her so that she could hear him more clearly. Therefore, when she wanted to talk to him, she did the same, leaning nearer to his ear, trying desperately not to be so aware of his spicy scent or the way his hair was starting to curl around the back of his ear.

  ‘I think it’s too noisy in here for me. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be cooking me dinner?’ She could feel the warmth emanating from him and as she breathed in again she couldn’t help the way his closeness made her feel. She felt protected, excited and nervous. These were not the emotions she wanted to have, especially when they pertained to her new colleague. After what had happened to her in the past, especially with her last disastrous relationship with Walter, which had almost tipped her precarious mother right over the edge and incensed her father, Daisy had decided that romantic entanglements weren’t for her.

  ‘Right you are.’ Oscar nodded and drank the rest of his drink, indicating Daisy should do the same. It took her a few more sips than him but soon the icy liquid was gone. As they stood up Oscar placed an arm around her waist, more to guide her safely from the pub than anything else, and she had to say, with the number of farmers who seemed to be watching her every move, she was more than appreciative of his protective arm.

  He dropped it back to his side once they’d crossed the road, then shoved both hands into the pockets of his shorts. It was odd, but right now she wouldn’t have minded if he’d kept his arm in place, around her waist, drawing her close.

  She had to admit that he wasn’t what she’d been expecting. When she’d first arrived he’d been in the midst of an emergency and, even though she’d insulted him several times over, he hadn’t been goaded into arguing with her. Then he’d cared for her, introduced her to people and generally been an all-round nice guy.

  Yet all the while she had the distinct impression that he was definitely holding something back. He’d talked about Deidre. Tori had told her about Magda and it was clear he still felt the pain from the loss of his sister. Even though she was here to help, she was only due to stay for six months. What would he do then? Advertise again? Would he be lucky to get someone to answer the advertisement? Would he ever leave Meeraji Lake or was he planning to stay here forever? She knew it really wasn’t any of her business but she was intrigued by the man.

  As she watched him move around the kitchen, cooking a stir-fry for dinner, she couldn’t help but notice his long legs, his lean body, his broad shoulders, his handsome smile. Rugged, good-looking and very capable. That was the best description for him.

  ‘I think you’re quite adept in the kitchen, Dr Oscar,’ she told him as she ate the last delicious morsel of food.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘In fact, I’d say you’re better than me.’ Daisy placed her knife and fork together then laced her fingers and rested her hands in her lap. Perfect and poised, she sat there for a good ten seconds before he laughed and emphatically shook his head.

  ‘Nice try, Daisy. There’s no way I’m going to be able to do all the cooking.’

  She smiled at him. ‘Then I guess we’ll just have to share.’

  He raised his glass to her and when she did the same, he clinked them together. ‘To sharing,’ he toasted and smiled that slow, gorgeous smile that turned her insides to mush. For some reason, she wondered whether he was talking about more than just the cooking. Did he have plans to share something else with her? Something to do with…romance? The thought warmed her through and through and, much to her surprise, she realised that the prospect wasn’t completely distasteful. Not distasteful at all!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  DURING THE NEXT week Daisy slowly completed her induction to the retirement village, managing to speak to every single resident as well as being shown the hydroponics bay by several different enthusiastic gardeners, each one proud of their achievements.

  ‘I don’t know how many cups of tea I’ve drunk,’ she told Tori as they worked a shift together. She’d been in Meeraji Lake for almost two weeks and she’d made a complete recovery from her heatstroke. ‘But I’ve finally met everyone.’

  ‘Even Mrs Piper was singing your praises in the ward this morning. She said you’ve managed to get her bumped up on the waiting list for her hip replacement.’ Tori spread her arms wide. ‘How did you manage that?’

  ‘I know a plastic surgeon who works at Darwin hospital and he knows the orthopaedic specialist.’ Daisy shrugged as though it were nothing.

  ‘But Mrs Piper said she’s being admitted as a private patient. She doesn’t have the money to pay for private treatment.’

  Daisy opened the next set of case notes that required her attention, not wanting to get too involved in this discussion with Tori just now. ‘I know. It’s being done as a favour to me.’

  ‘Favour? Your request carries that much weight?’

  ‘Apparently.’ She pointed to the case notes. ‘Can you remember whether this patient was transferred to Alice or Darwin? I can’t find the transfer form.’

  ‘Oh, that’s because they’re all here.’ Tori handed her a pile of papers. ‘I haven’t had time to put them into the case notes. I was going to leave it for Adonni to do on the nightshift.’ They went through the files, finding the correct form Daisy needed. She was thankful she’d been able to move the conversation away from Mrs Piper’s hip replacement as the last thing Daisy wanted Tori—or anyone else in the town—to discover was that she had been the one to pay for Mrs Piper’s private-patient privileges. After speaking to Mrs Piper during ward round over the past few days, Daisy had learned that Mrs Piper’s sons had both been in the army, had both gone overseas as part of a peace-keeping mission, and had both been killed. Daisy had seen and experienced firsthand the devastation war could cause and, as the money didn’t matter to her at all, it was the least she could do to ensure Mrs Piper experienced the best private-patient privileges.

  ‘With me husband long dead, I only had me boys. Now I’ve got no o
ne, except the people in this town. They’re me family now.’

  Daisy’s heart had been filled with compassion for the woman and so she’d done everything she could to ensure Mrs Piper was not only bumped up the waiting list but also would receive the best treatment from the best orthopaedic surgeon at Darwin hospital.

  ‘I’ve arranged for Glenys to travel with you,’ Daisy had told Mrs Piper after it was all organised. ‘That way, you won’t be alone in a strange hospital and, with Glenys being an ex-nurse, she’ll be able to help you out afterwards, make sure you’re weight-bearing correctly.’

  Mrs Piper had beamed so brightly, Daisy’s heart had been warmed through and through and she’d slept very well that night, snuggling beneath the blankets as the evening temperature dropped. She was slowly getting used to the extreme temperatures of the Meeraji Lake district, with it being over thirty degrees Celsius during the day but then dropping to three or four degrees overnight.

  Back at the doctors’ residence later that evening, Daisy realised she was quite content with her decision to spend six months here in the Australian outback. Perhaps if things went well, they’d allow her to extend her contract. She might even be able to bring her mother out to Australia for a few months, to spend some time with her and to get away from Daisy’s overbearing father.

  With that thought in mind, she rang her mother and asked how she was feeling.

  ‘I’m doing fine, Daisy,’ her mother responded, her words firm and decisive. ‘Stop fussing, dear.’ Daisy closed her eyes and tried to stop the tears from springing to them. ‘I’m absolutely fine. Great, in fact. Your father had a party last night and it was a lot of fun. I was the perfect hostess and an absolute hoot!’

  Her mother cut the conversation short and Daisy didn’t try to dissuade her from hanging up. She’d already received the information she wanted to know. Whenever her mother was self-assured, firm and confident, it unfortunately meant that she’d given in to the drink. Daisy couldn’t help the tears that started to pour down her cheeks. It didn’t seem to matter how many times she managed to pull her mother out of the quagmire, helping her into rehab, helping her to stay sober, her father would always find a way to destroy the good work and drive her mother to drink once more. Then, on top of that, he’d berate her for being weak and giving in.

  When Oscar walked into the kitchen, she didn’t even try to hide the fact that she’d been crying, she was that upset.

  ‘Daisy? Daisy, what’s wrong?’ He was instantly by her side but she was too upset to answer him.

  ‘It’s…it’s…’ Even as she tried the words just wouldn’t come. He put his hand on her shoulder and she flinched a little. He drew back, starting to feel uneasy, starting to worry about her. What on earth had made her so upset?

  ‘Daisy? Can I get you a drink? Water? Tea? Iced tea?’ What was he supposed to do? He tried putting his hand on her shoulder again and this time she didn’t shrug off his touch. He gave her shoulder a little squeeze and offered her another tissue, moving the box closer to where she was for easier access.

  ‘What can I do? Tell me. I want to help you.’

  ‘You can’t.’ The words were wrenched from her and she shook her head. ‘You can’t help. I can’t even help.’ Her words were barely audible between her sobs.

  Oscar gave her shoulder one more pat, then stalked to the cupboard, withdrew a glass and then went to the fridge, taking out the iced tea and pouring her some. If she hadn’t already told him she didn’t drink, he might have offered her something stronger to help steady her nerves. As it was, he needed to do something to help, trying to fix whatever small thing he could, and if that meant offering her a tissue and pouring her a drink, then that was exactly what he was going to do.

  ‘It’s all right, Daisy.’ He put the drink in front of her but when she saw it, instead of stopping her tears, it only made her cry even harder.

  ‘Don’t be nice,’ she mumbled between sobs and it took him a few seconds to understand what she’d said.

  ‘Don’t be nice? Why not? You’d be nice to me if the situations were reversed.’

  ‘I don’t know how to handle people who are nice to me.’ She blew her nose and tried not to look at him.

  ‘Why not?’ He sat in the seat next to hers at the table and brushed some hair from her face. When she shied away, he started to worry. What on earth had happened to make her this upset?

  ‘Don’t look at me. I’m ugly.’

  He smiled then, pleased to know the response to that statement. ‘You are not ugly.’

  ‘I’m all red and puffy and blotchy.’ Her words were a little calmer now and she blew her nose again, catching her breath in hiccupping wisps. When she lifted the glass to her lips, he noted her hand was trembling slightly.

  ‘You are a beautiful woman, Daisy Forsythe-York.’

  ‘Don’t call me that. Call me Dr Daisy. I like that. I don’t want to be a Forsythe-York. I never wanted to be one.’ She all but spat her surname then pushed the glass out of the way and slumped forward, resting her forehead on the table, her cell phone clattering to the ground. Oscar immediately picked it up and placed it next to the half-drunk liquid.

  ‘What’s happened, Daisy?’ Surely she could see he was concerned about her. ‘Has someone hurt themselves? Or worse?’

  ‘No one has died, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘I’m very pleased to hear that.’

  She lifted her head and looked at him for a long moment before slumping back down onto the table. ‘It’s just…it’s…stupid family stuff.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘I don’t ever want to have a family of my own because that way I won’t ruin my children the way my—’ She stopped then, lifting her head in shock, her eyes wide, as though she realised she’d said too much. It was only then Oscar began to realise that perhaps Daisy’s haughtiness wasn’t due to her being rude but rather was a type of defence mechanism to protect herself from others. Had her childhood been bad? Had she been abused? There were so many different types of abuse, such as emotional bullying, and often people didn’t even know they were victims until much later in life.

  ‘Daisy, it’s all right,’ he told her, placing a hand over hers, thankful when she didn’t shy away again. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’ll listen. I won’t pry and I won’t try to fix your problems.’

  ‘You couldn’t even if you wanted to. If there’s nothing I can do, then there’s definitely nothing you can do.’ She dragged in another deep, shaky breath and stood up, scooping up her phone from the table. ‘I think I’ll go to bed.’

  ‘OK.’ He continued to sit at the table but Daisy didn’t move, still just standing there, as though weighing up the pros and cons of whether or not to tell him what was going on. He sat still, silent, patient. Then she picked up the glass of iced tea and started towards her room.

  ‘Goodnight, Oscar and…and thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ he called as she disappeared into her part of the house. And it was, he realised. His pleasure to have been a witness to that fragile, innermost part of Daisy. He hadn’t particularly understood what she’d been saying, or why he wasn’t allowed to be nice to her, but she hadn’t run away as soon as he’d entered the room and he was going to count this as progress in getting to know her better.

  As he lay awake in bed a while later, hands behind his head as he stared up at the whirring ceiling fan, Oscar couldn’t help but replay the scene, trying to make sense of it. He hoped that Daisy was asleep, that she’d found some sort of peace. He wanted to go and check on her but, now that she was no longer sick, he didn’t have any excuse for being in her part of the house.

  Why had she been crying? Her cell phone had been on the kitchen table, which meant she’d just been talking to someone on the phone, but who? What had been said to upset her in such a way? Nothing made much sense only that, by some miracle, Daisy had actually accepted his support.

  He knew of old, from his experie
nce with Magda and Deidre, that women often had many layers to them. Daisy’s outer layer seemed to be made up of an almost impenetrable hardness but inside…he was beginning to discover pure softness and that wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all because he’d promised himself he would never become romantically involved with another colleague again. He’d already made two mistakes—two! Not only had Magda pulled the wool over his eyes, but Deidre had as well. Dating the women he worked with hadn’t been successful in the past. What could possibly make him think it would work now with Daisy?

  After he and Magda had married, she’d stopped nursing altogether, instead more than content for him to earn the money while she lazed around and did nothing. She had often told him that wasn’t true, that she was networking behind the scenes, getting her nails done with the wives of other up-and-coming medical specialists. Magda had wanted the high life, the prestige of being a surgeon’s wife. She’d never complained about the long hours he worked and she’d thrown great parties that had introduced him to several good contacts. However, in the end, it hadn’t been what he’d wanted at all.

  And Deidre? He closed his eyes and shook his head. He’d made a right ol’ mess of that one. He’d ventured back into the ring of love and been knocked down and out. Why was it he seemed to choose women who had completely different agendas from him? Sure, they worked well, they laughed and they enjoyed themselves, but when it came to long-term life plans no one seemed to want what he wanted.

  ‘And what do you want?’ he growled into the dark, and a moment later a vision appeared of the doctors’ residence being filled with children, his own children, the house bursting with love and laughter. It was the childhood he could remember, before his parents had passed away, his beautiful, fun-loving mother gone forever. Lucinda had done her best to provide him with a home but nothing had been the same ever again and now even his beloved sister had been taken from him.

  All the women he’d ever cared about had left him, in one way or another. Was he cursed? Was he meant to be alone for the rest of his life, just him and his patients? Was he brave enough to step into the ring for a third time? Brave…or stupid? He wasn’t sure which.