by Lucy Clark
He would not pursue her, not in a romantic vein. He couldn’t. She was married. However, he did intend to be personable, to show her around and to introduce her to the delights of Didja. Her contract was only for six months yet he knew Joss was hoping that once Iris could see how wonderful life was here, she would choose to stay longer.
Dex watched as she perused the chalk-board menu Stig had written up that morning. She had a lovely figure, well, what he could see of it as her cotton shirt was hanging loosely over her trousers. She was tall, too, which he liked. Taller than the average woman but, then, he was taller than the average male and therefore Iris fitted by his side perfectly. Indeed, when he’d swooped down, intending to kiss her, he hadn’t needed to bend too far.
And then she’d slapped him. His lips curved into a smile at the memory. Beauty, intelligence and a fiery temper to boot. He liked a woman with spirit, one who wouldn’t fawn at his feet. Too bad she’d already been snapped up by another man. ‘Look but don’t touch,’ he warned himself softly as he walked over to where she stood. Colleagues. Friends. Nothing more.
She didn’t turn around to look at him but merely asked, ‘What’s a schnitzel stick?’
‘Ah, now, that’s one of Stig’s own delicacies. It’s cooked schnitzel meat on a skewer.’ He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Makes it easier to eat at events such as these.’
‘You’ve had one?’ She turned to look at him and was surprised to find him standing closer than she’d realised. She had hoped that mentioning that Tennant was her married name might make Dexter back off slightly. Apparently she’d underestimated him for he seemed just as interested as ever in escorting her around the fair.
‘Of course. I’ve tried everything Stig makes.’
Before she could say another word, he’d walked into the building, opened the door and stepped behind the counter into the small kitchen. Iris watched through the large serving window as Dex simply helped himself to two schnitzels on sticks.
‘Doc Dex. You know you’re not allowed back here,’ said a man with a relaxed Italian accent. Iris presumed this was the chef himself—Stig. There were three other people in the kitchen, all cooking and preparing food, yet Dex had simply jumped the line, not caring what anyone said or did.
‘I know,’ Dex remarked as he paid for the food. ‘And I’m sorry but I’m desperately trying to impress our brand-new paediatrician, who’ll be working at the clinic for the next six months.’ He spoke loud enough for quite a few people to hear and soon Iris found herself subjected to quite a lot of interested stares.
‘Another sheila doc!’ Stig beamed brightly and started clapping his hands. ‘Welcome. Welcome to Didja,’ he hollered, and Iris stretched a polite smile across her lips. ‘Take the schnitzel,’ Stig was urging Dex as he left. ‘You let me know what you think of my food,’ Stig called to her and Iris nodded. ‘You come by my restaurant. I’ll give you a good meal.’
‘I’ll make sure she does,’ Dex remarked with a wink. ‘Book us a table for Saturday night,’ he called back as he walked over to where Iris was standing.
‘Aw, Doc Dex. You are bad.’ Stig laughed and went back to serving customers.
‘Here.’ Dex held out the schnitzel stick and a napkin. ‘No more need for forks.’ He took a bite of his. ‘Mmm. So good,’ he murmured. ‘Try it.’
Iris realised there were a few interested people still watching her and though she badly wanted to offer Dex payment for the food, because she was a woman who didn’t rely on anyone, she decided to forego that for the moment and instead sampled the food.
Dex was watching her intently and was pleased when her eyebrows lifted in happy surprise. ‘Mmm. Delicious.’ He turned and gave Stig a thumbs-up. A few people clapped and then went back to what they were doing. Iris took another bite.
‘Really delicious,’ she said after she’d swallowed her mouthful. ‘He should market these. They’d sell so well all around the country.’
Dex nodded. ‘Agreed, but, you see, our Stig isn’t after worldwide fame and fortune. For some strange reason, he’s more than content to live here and provide the township of Didja and surrounding communities with amazing food.’ He grinned at Iris. ‘And all I can say to that is amen!’
She laughed, annoyed with herself for liking Dex so much. He was a determined flirt who no doubt had a harem of women falling at his feet on a regular basis. He was extremely good-looking—and knew it. He seemed to relate easily to everyone he met, whether male or female, old or young and everyone, in turn, seemed to love him back.
Well, she hadn’t come to Didja to love him. In fact, that wasn’t even on her list of things to achieve in the next six months. Dex would simply be another colleague to her. Nothing more. She was here to provide a medical service to an outback community. Not only would the appointment look good on her résumé but it gave her the opportunity to escape from her life and that had been the biggest draw when Melissa had first suggested she come to Didja.
She had a job to do and she’d do it. She had goals to achieve and she’d achieve them. Being head of paediatrics at a busy teaching hospital in Melbourne was high on her list and coming to Didja would most definitely help. Then she would move from Sydney to Victoria to the Royal Children’s hospital and away from her past. She’d already broken the mould by coming here, by venturing to do something different, and she hoped it would help her to put her previous life behind her once and for all.
They both finished eating and Dex looked at her. ‘Want another one?’
‘Perhaps later, although they were extremely good.’
‘Told you so.’
‘Yes you did. You’re a man who knows his schnitzel sticks.’
‘Thank you, Iris. Such a compliment from a woman of your calibre is something I shall treasure for ever.’
She smiled and shook her head. ‘Melissa was right. You are such an over-actor.’
Dex leaned a little closer and said in a stage whisper, ‘It’s already on my résumé.’
His hypnotic, earthy scent wove around her and she tried not to like it. There was heat radiating from his body as his lips twitched into a smile. Iris took a step backwards, not liking the mildly intimate atmosphere he’d created. ‘Glad to hear it.’ She tried to keep her tone brisk and impersonal but wasn’t sure she’d succeeded.
‘So…’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Where to next? What would you like to see? More stalls? Or perhaps the pub? It is the main hub of the town.’
Iris thought for a moment, unsure what to do. She decided it was best if there were people around them—lots of people—wherever they went. When she’d driven by the pub earlier, she had noticed it was relatively full. Yet the fair atmosphere would provide less time for personal chit-chat as there was so much to comment on.
‘Perhaps another stall,’ she remarked. ‘After all, I hear that the district does need an ambulance. Best get to spending our money.’
‘Yes, we should.’ And he stepped forwards to link his arm with hers as he’d tried to do when she’d first arrived.
‘We don’t need to do that,’ she said, stepping back from him again.
Dex held up his hands in surrender. There was definitely a big NO TOUCHING sign above her head and he could respect that. ‘Fair enough. Was just trying to be neighbourly.’ He indicated to the stalls with an open hand. ‘Would you like to go to the cake stall? The second-hand clothing stall? The jewellery stall? The kissing booth?’ He raised an eyebrow suggestively. ‘I could take another turn if you’d prefer to spend your money wisely?’
Iris shrugged and started walking off. ‘Oh, I don’t know. That Bluey chap looked OK.’
Dex nearly choked on his tongue and she couldn’t help but laugh. ‘What would your husband say about that, I wonder?’ he asked, unashamedly fishing.
Before Iris had time to respond, a woman started shrieking at the top of her lungs.
‘Help! Help! He’s choking. Watson. Stop it. Help! Somebody!’
Dex and Iris wasted n
o time, both doing an about-face as they headed in the direction of the cry for help. It was coming from the area where people could sit and relax whilst they ate.
‘He’s choking!’ The woman continued to yell.
‘Hit him on the back,’ someone suggested.
‘No, put your arms around his waist and pull,’ someone else suggested.
‘Doc Dex? Doc Dex!’ Stig was calling for him.
‘I’m here,’ Dex called over the hullabaloo. At the back of the area Stig had set up with tables and chairs for his patrons, a young boy, Watson, who was seven years old, was frantically trying to suck air into his lungs.
‘Stand back,’ Dex ordered. ‘Give him some room.’ He lifted the boy to his feet and wrapped his arms around the upper part of the abdomen. Clasping his hands into a fist, he suddenly and firmly forced them upwards into the gap between the lower ribs, hoping the compression of air in the chest would expel the bolus of food.
It didn’t. Watson continued to gasp for air, his mother screaming hysterically. Iris came up behind Dex.
‘Bend him slightly forward,’ she instructed, and Dex obeyed. He kept Watson’s head as low as possible whilst Iris struck the seven-year-old firmly between the shoulder blades with the heel of her hand.
Nothing!
A crowd was beginning to gather, everyone hovering with mounting anxiety. Iris thought quickly and looked at Stig, who was dithering nearby.
‘Is there a vacuum cleaner? Find a vacuum cleaner. Plug it in, bring it here.’ She knew it was a risky solution but if she didn’t try something soon, Watson would choke to death.
‘The new doc’s barmy,’ a bloke called.
‘Just do it,’ Iris insisted, her tone brooking no argument. Stig rushed off to do her bidding. Dex was soothing Watson trying to get the child to relax his body in the hope that a smidgen of air could continue to make its way through until they’d dislodged the obstruction.
While they waited, Dex held the boy in position whilst Iris struck him firmly between the shoulder blades again. Still nothing.
‘Try and relax your muscles,’ Dex told Watson. ‘It’s all right. We’re here. We’re going to help you.’
‘Has someone called for a—?’ Iris stopped, only then remembering that the town didn’t have an ambulance. Not yet. ‘A bucket. I’m going to need a bucket.’
‘You all right, Doc?’ A woman asked.
‘The bucket’s not for me,’ she said with a touch of impatience. What was taking them so long with the vacuum cleaner? Why did everything seem to be happening in slow motion?
‘Tip his head back and try and blow some air past the obstruction,’ she suggested to Dex, but even as the words left her mouth Dex was already shifting Watson around to do just that.
‘Here it is,’ a person called, and Iris turned to see Stig running towards them with an old vacuum cleaner.
‘Plug it in,’ she urged as she pulled the head off the vacuum, getting the nozzle ready.
‘All right.’ Stig yelled across the room. ‘It’s in.’
Iris tested the suction and found it wasn’t too strong for picking up dirt but it was better for what she was about to do. ‘Suction is ready. Sit him upright,’ she instructed, and Dex complied, holding Watson’s jaw down and open, whispering quietly and reassuringly in the boy’s ear. Iris placed the vacuum cleaner pipe into Watson’s mouth, ensuring the tongue was depressed. The poor child started gagging as the suction began but Dex held him firm, as well as delivering a few more blows between his shoulder blades.
Within seconds, the blockage was cleared and Iris carefully removed the pipe. A collective sigh of relief rippled through the crowd and Watson collapsed against Dex, who held the boy, soothing him.
‘Bucket.’ Iris held out her hand, her eyes still watching their patient. She accepted the bucket and placed it in front of Watson who, seconds later, started to retch. She watched as Dex continued to hold the boy, talking calmly. The poor boy was still as white as a sheet but was now completely out of danger. Dex was certainly very good with children and obviously had a calming bedside manner. She was impressed.
Iris looked over to where Watson’s mother was crumpled in a heap on the floor, friends crouched down beside her, rubbing her back and supporting her as she cried. And quite right, too. Seeing your son choke was a highly traumatic event. After years of treating children, Iris knew it was often the parents who reacted more than the child.
When Watson was finished, Iris handed the bucket to someone and took the boy’s pulse. It was still elevated but slowly returning to normal. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked him.
‘Tired.’
Both Dex and Iris smiled at the answer. ‘That’s to be expected. Your throat’s going to be sore for the next few days.’
‘And that means,’ Dex continued, Watson still in his arms, leaning heavily against him, ‘no talking loudly, no singing, no yelling at your sisters.’
‘Not fair,’ Watson whispered, but nodded.
‘I think we’ll have you stay at the hospital tonight,’ Iris said. ‘Just so we can monitor you.’ Watson’s eyes grew wider at this information.
‘It’s just overnight,’ Dex reassured the young boy. ‘And you’ll have Bub looking after you, and you like Bub. And you’ll have to eat soft, mushy foods.’
‘Like puréed spinach?’ Watson whispered, and wrinkled his nose. Iris found it difficult not to laugh.
‘I think we can do better than that.’ Dex chuckled and she tried not to let the sound wash over her. The man really did have the sexiest laugh she’d ever heard. So smooth, so rich and so genuine. ‘Like…Oh, I don’t know. What do you think, Dr Iris? Ice cream?’
She snapped her attention back to what was happening, rather than being concerned about Dexter Crawford’s husky laugh. ‘Hmm.’ She pretended to think for a second. ‘Ice cream, eh? That might do.’ She looked at Watson and snapped her fingers. ‘Oh, I know. What about jelly?’
‘And custard.’ Dex nodded and licked his lips. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy visiting you in hospital. Maybe you’ll share?’
Watson grinned and shook his head. Iris was pleased there was colour coming back into the boy’s cheeks. He’d had a terrible scare but he’d do just fine.
‘Well…OK, then. I guess that’s fair,’ Dex remarked. ‘But you do know there’s something extra-special about you now.’
‘What?’ Watson whispered.
‘You’re Dr Iris’s first patient in Didja.’ He nodded. ‘And what a fine initiation it was for her.’ He looked at the crowd around them. ‘What d’ya say, mates? How about a big round of applause for our new resident paediatrician—Doc Iris.’
And indeed a round of applause was exactly what she received. Iris felt highly self-conscious as she stood and smiled, politely accepting the thanks from the people of this strange but loving outback town.
She glanced down at Dex who winked at her, then treated her to one of those butterfly-inducing smiles. His tone was warm and inviting as he said more quietly, ‘Welcome to Didja, Iris.’
CHAPTER THREE
THE clinic, which had a little ten-bed hospital at the rear of the premises, wasn’t what Iris had been expecting.
They’d bundled Watson into the rear of her four-wheel drive, Watson’s mother beside him and Dex sitting in the front passenger seat, exuding way too much heat and male pheromones for Iris’s liking. Thankfully, the drive had been relatively short and Dex had directed her to park the car around the rear of the building.
‘That’s where we live.’ He pointed to a set of four ground-level apartments, which were separated from the clinic by the small and private car park they were in. Even Dex’s words— ‘That’s where we live’—made her want to blush, made her want to correct him and point out that they weren’t, in fact, living together but rather sharing an apartment block. Then again, she knew she’d only be arguing semantics and it would only show Dex how much his words had affected her. Besides, they had a patient to deal wi
th.
As they headed inside, Dex carrying young Watson whilst the boy’s mother trailed behind, Iris marvelled at the difference between outback medicine and that of its counterpart in the city. A wheelchair would have been provided for Watson back in Sydney to transport him from the vehicle—which would have been an ambulance—into the sanctuary of the hospital building. There would have been paperwork to be filled out and red tape to be processed. Insurance. Public liability. Doing everything by the book. Instead, she’d driven the patient to the hospital in her own vehicle and Dex had carried the patient inside, talking animatedly to him as they went.
He was very good, very natural with the boy, and she wondered if he was like this with all of his patients. She knew he had the charm and charisma to seriously affect the female population but it appeared Dex could charm anyone, regardless of age, race or sex. He was obviously well liked and respected within the community and for that reason Iris decided to try and control her need to make snap judgements, to pigeonhole people and put them in a box marked ‘X’ so she could deal with them in a less personal way—and she would start with Dex.
She watched as he placed Watson on a bed and made sure both mother and son were comfortable before performing observations on their patient. Again, this was something a nurse would usually have done but it appeared out here in the outback it was all hands on deck. Hierarchy and rank appeared to have little or no consequence at all. At least, this was what she thought until she met Bub.
‘Dexter. I see you’ve brought me another patient,’ Bub said as she came over and embraced Watson’s mother. Iris guessed Bub to be a woman in her mid to late fifties. She had short grey hair and a weathered smile. Her eyes were bright with teasing as she shooed Dex away, taking the stethoscope from him and making him stand at the end of the bed.
‘Out of the way. It’s my job so let me do it.’
‘I was just trying to help.’ Dex sounded a lot like a scolded little boy. He turned and looked at Iris, winking at her which let her know that Bub really wasn’t as cross with him as she’d sounded. ‘Watson decided to breathe and eat at the same time,’ Dex said in an attempt to give some sort of handover. ‘Which resulted in—’
