Later she thought about what she had said and wondered if she had gone too far. So she confessed to Luc—and he laughed. ‘The joke,’ he said, ‘is that the parents would take that from an English doctor. If I had said it they’d think I was just some awkward foreigner.’
‘Too much sun is not good. People need to know that,’ she muttered.
‘You’re thinking of your life in the desert?’
‘I’ve had patients die of heat prostration. Not pretty.’
‘But I’ll bet you saved some.’ He reached out, stroked the back of her neck. Then he suddenly pulled his hand away. That was not permitted. But she felt sorry.
There were a surprising number of people coming in with cuts—especially fishermen with cuts to the hands. This upset Paul. With one of his hands still bandaged he was incapable of the delicate task of suturing. The first time he had a patient with a cut, he asked Kelly to step in to offer her advice. ‘It’s a really bad cut. I just can’t do this, Kelly. I could wait until Luc is ready but he has a long list today.’
‘You have a treatment room here, I can see to this there.’
Paul didn’t know all of Kelly’s story, he knew only that she was a doctor. But Kelly was a very good doctor. And she had spent months cutting, cleaning, probing, suturing flesh that had been blasted and torn apart. A hand badly gashed by a giant hook on a fishing line was no great problem.
This was only a GP’s surgery. But it was nearly a hundred and forty kilometres to the nearest large hospital, so the surgery was equipped with quite a sophisticated treatment room. Occasionally it was used by the local midwives, and both Paul and Luc had performed minor surgery there. Kelly had looked around it before, had approved of what she had seen. There was a variety of the simpler surgical tools, even a machine for general anaesthesia. Kelly felt instantly at home here.
Paul watched, astounded, as Kelly ring-blocked the hand, cleaned the cut, pulled the edges together, and secured them with tiny sutures. ‘Kelly, that was amazing,’ he whispered. ‘And you were so quick!’
‘Sometimes you have to be quick.’
For her this had been a minor operation. But she remembered times when there had been a line of men waiting, in the heat, for similar operations. It had been necessary to be quick.
She worked three afternoons and found she was thoroughly enjoying herself.
It was her fourth afternoon at the surgery, she was getting into the swing of things. Today Luc was away on a course, Paul and she were the two doctors in charge. Things went well until it was nearly time for her to leave. Then she heard shouting from the reception area, the sound of someone panicking. A moment later Paul knocked on her door, came in at once. ‘We have a problem,’ he said. ‘A man has been knocked down by a car, not half a kilometre away. They didn’t send for SAMU, they loaded him into the car, brought him here, he’s in the treatment room now. He’s conscious, he can walk but—’
‘What’s the problem?’
‘He can’t breathe properly. The car hit him in the face and neck, there’s damage to the respiratory tract. I think there’s swelling there and it’s getting worse. His trachea is closing up Kelly. I tried the Heimlich manoeuvre on him three times—no result at all.’
Kelly shook her head in dismay. The Heimlich manoeuvre was simple but often a lifesaver. You stood behind the patient, wrapped your arms round him so your hands were clasped over his abdomen and jerked your hands backwards. If there was an obstruction in the trachea, the shock sometimes dislodged it. This time it hadn’t worked.
‘Can you work as an anaesthetist?’ she asked Paul.
‘I’ve been on a course, I can operate a simple machine like the one we have.’
‘Right. We’re going to perform a tracheotomy on this man. Let’s get him prepped.’
‘But Kelly, that is an operation beyond us doctors. And, anyway, there is no way I could hold a scalpel. I could—’
‘I’m a surgeon, not just a doctor. You do the anaesthetic and I’ll cut.’
‘A surgeon? Where?’
‘That doesn’t matter now. Let’s get started!’
Paul looked at her in bewilderment for a moment. Then he nodded and said, ‘If we don’t operate the man could die. We could perform an emergency tracheotomy but—’
‘But indeed,’ Kelly said. ‘There’ll be no emergency medicine here. This is a surgery.’
There were stories of emergency tracheotomies, of tracheas being cut open with a penknife, of the barrel of a ballpoint pen being used as a clear airway. They were true stories. But Kelly wanted no part of that.
By now their patient was having great trouble in breathing and was showing all the signs of distress she would have expected. His face was cyanosed, the efforts he was making to breathe were painful to hear. Kelly recognised the pain, could feel for the man, but switched off any emotional reaction. She would be most useful here if she was calm, collected.
First, a lightning check. The man had been brought in suffering from injuries to the face and neck. That was not to say that there were no other injuries. Together, Kelly and Paul examined the man. Nothing further. Good.
The patient was placed on the table. Paul acted as nurse, isolating the neck and chest with sterile drapes and then disinfecting the skin. Then he moved to the anaesthesia machine. Kelly nodded. ‘Put him out,’ she said. A quick injection and the patient was unconscious.
Kelly had scrubbed up, was masked and gowned, had put on the rubber gloves. She took a scalpel from the sterile pack and leaned over the patient.
This was the first time she had been a surgeon in a long time. A tiny part of her mind detached itself, looked down on her standing there, scalpel in hand. Just how well would she do? This would be interesting.
Other surgeons had told her that the very first cut was the worst. To see an area of apparently perfect flesh, to slice your scalpel across it so the blood runs out…But after that things got easier.
Halfway between the Adam’s apple and the tip of the breastbone. Kelly found the place, made the first cut. There were the neck muscles. Carefully she separated them, probed under them. The thyroid gland—she cut it down the middle. And there were the rings of cartilage that made up the trachea. Kelly cut into the tough wall. There was a whistling sound as the patient took his first full breath.
Kelly had a sterile tracheotomy tube ready, she slid it into the opening and then carefully stitched it into place. Then the opening was closed and a dressing placed round it.
She looked up at Paul. ‘All done,’ she said. ‘Bring him round. Now we can phone for an ambulance and get this man off to a proper hospital where he can have that face and jaw looked at.’
Paul worked at the anaesthesia and together they heaved the patient up so that he was half sitting. The best position to recover from an anaesthetic. ‘I’ve already phoned for the ambulance, it won’t be too long. Though it would have been too long for this man if it hadn’t been for you. And you could see to the jaw and face if you wanted. I could see the skill there.’
Kelly lifted a corner of the temporary dressing and glanced at the injuries. ‘I could do a first job,’ she said, ‘but I suspect he’s going to need plastic surgery. That’s not what I do.’
‘What is a first-rate surgeon like you doing working part time in a GP’s surgery?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Kelly said.
Just at that moment the ambulance arrived. Kelly let Paul give the report on the patient’s condition and treatment, deal with the little bit of paperwork. Then the patient was gone. He was no longer her responsibility.
‘Excuse me a minute,’ Kelly said. She went to the ladies’ cloakroom, looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She recognised that confident face.
Now she was certain that the old Kelly was back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KELLY enjoyed herself working in the afternoons, enjoyed herself just as much being with Jenny in the mornings. It struck her that she’d never had much to do with
children. Not only her work but her social life had kept her from being closely involved with the upbringing of a child. And she had no relatives with nieces or nephews.
She had never talked about having a family with Gary, most of Gary’s conversation had been about Gary. But now it struck her that having children was largely the point of getting married. She had never thought much about it but now…would she like a family? Yes, she would, she decided.
The next thought was inevitable. Luc and Jenny were inseparable, they would come as a package. And she loved them both so it was…
That was enough of that kind of thought.
Jenny was an intelligent child so she needed to be kept interested. In anything. She grew more and more irritated by the fact that she was confined to her bed, and it took all Kelly’s powers of imagination to work out new ways of keeping her calm and busy. They had a lot of fun studying birds. But there had to be more than that. There was music and drawing and craftwork…
‘This child of mine is going to be a genius,’ Luc said one evening when he discovered Kelly and Jenny had just constructed an origami dragon. ‘Kelly, you have shown her so many new skills.’
‘This child of yours reminds me of you,’ Kelly retorted. ‘She won’t let anything pass without examination. I’ve never heard so many questions. “Why can’t humans fly?” Try answering that to a six-year-old.’
‘But you like Jenny asking you questions. You always smile when you think of an answer.’
Kelly realised that this was true. She was also both pleased and shocked to realise that Luc had noticed so much about her. ‘I do,’ she said. ‘It’s because for quite a while no one asked me anything. Largely because I wouldn’t answer.’
‘That time has passed.’
He turned to where Jenny was carefully colouring her dragon green. ‘Jenny, I have brought a DVD to show you.’
‘I’ve had my television time for today,’ Jenny said sadly. Luc raised his eyebrows at Kelly.
‘We only watch so much television each day,’ she explained. ‘In the morning we negotiate what we’re going to see.’
‘That is remarkable. When Jenny’s mother was…At one time that television set seemed never to be off.’
Kelly decided not to ask questions. Luc’s relationship with his ex-wife was none of her affair. But she did feel rather pleased that Luc approved of what she was doing. ‘What is the DVD about?’ she asked.
He showed her. ‘I ordered it from the library,’ he said.
Kelly looked. It was a copy of a programme first shown on French TV, dealing with the commonest French birds. ‘I think that we can consider this bird time, not television time,’ she said.
The next day was a special day—or a special night. Luc came home with a wheelchair! It was specially adapted so that Jenny’s injured leg could rest straight. ‘We think that the bones in Jenny’s leg will have knitted sufficiently for her to risk being moved,’ Luc explained. ‘But can you and Minette lift her from bed to wheelchair?’
‘No, we can’t. But I can lift her on my own.’ Kelly flexed the biceps of her right arm. ‘Feel that!’
He did feel it—gently. And she liked it.
So Kelly felt very happy at her work—in fact, happier than she had ever been in her life. But how did she feel about Luc? He had not kissed her as he had that night on the beach—but the memory of what she had felt didn’t fade. She suspected it hadn’t faded for Luc either. At times she caught him looking at her and in his eyes there was a sadness or a longing that she recognised. She felt it too.
And it was awkward, living in his house. Certainly they were together a lot, enjoying each other’s company. But they had made an agreement and Kelly knew that he would never try to kiss her again when she was a guest in his home. It would upset his sense of honour. But what if she were to kiss him…?
Because of Jenny she spent a lot of time with him and so came to know him better. She came to like him more and more. He had a quiet sense of humour, dedication to his job. She told herself that liking and loving were two different feelings, that she was entitled to like but that love was not for her. Still, telling the difference between the two was often difficult.
She saw how much he loved his daughter. He spent as much of his time as possible with her. Kelly saw the way his face lit up when Jenny caught sight of him. ‘Jenny doesn’t really need me,’ she told him. ‘You and Minette give her all the love and attention she needs.’
‘I can’t imagine how any parent wouldn’t want to spend as much time as possible with their child. It is a joy to me like few others.’
‘Six is an enchanting age anyway,’ Kelly said. She realised that he was talking about his ex-wife, her lack of interest in her daughter. As ever, there had been real bitterness in his voice.
On Friday night he said, ‘To celebrate, shall we go out for dinner again tonight? You have hardly been out all week.’
‘I’d like that,’ she said after a moment. ‘But could we go somewhere other than L’Auberge de la Rivière?’
‘That might be a good idea.’
The night at the restaurant was in her thoughts constantly. She thought she would never forget it. She suspected that Luc felt the same way.
He took her to dinner in the Café des Amis, a town-centre restaurant that was completely different from the one they had visited a week before. It was more crowded, noisier, there were more large parties. People came here to have a good evening with their friends. As they were shown to their table, three or four people waved at Luc, he was obviously well known.
‘You brought me here because the atmosphere is the complete opposite of L’Auberge de la Rivière,’ she said.
He didn’t deny it. ‘The food is just as good. L’Auberge is wonderful in its way but it’s a quiet place. You’re coming out into the world now, you will be mixing more with people.’
‘I suppose so.’
For a moment she gazed into his eyes and knew that both of them were thinking the same thing. Last week had been magic. After the meal and the paddling, the kiss had meant so much. Stopping it, breaking off, had been harder, more painful, than almost anything she could remember. And now she realised she felt a little selfish. It had hurt him as much as it had hurt her.
A moment or two of silent communion. Then he said, ‘This place is famous for its oysters. Would you like to start with a dozen?’
‘Sounds good to me.’ Decision made. They were here to enjoy themselves, not muse over what might have been.
The food was very good and Kelly enjoyed herself. One or two people came over to say hello to Luc, to be friendly but also obviously curious about who she was. He introduced her as Dr Blackman from England, who would be working with him. This didn’t satisfy most people, but Luc was not going to say any more.
Then there was a surprise. They were just about to order coffee when a voice said, ‘Now, who would have expected this. We were just passing, looked through the window and here you are.’
Kelly looked up. It was Paul and an attractive smiling woman who was presumably his wife.
Luc stood. ‘Paul! You’re too late for dinner but we were about to have coffee and a brandy. Will you join us?’
‘With pleasure. And I want to introduce Madeleine here to my new right hand. Madeleine, this is Dr Blackman.’
‘Please, call me Kelly,’ said Kelly, shaking hands.
‘And I am Madeleine.’
A waiter fetched two chairs, and coffee and brandy ordered. It turned out that Paul and Madeleine were just walking back from the harbour, they had been to look at the sunset. Kelly already had decided that she liked Paul—he had a sense of humour, was easy to work with. And she found herself liking Madeleine even more.
‘You three are doctors, I am the owner and designer of a dress shop,’ Madeleine pronounced. ‘So three-quarters of the time we will talk about medicine, one quarter of the time we will talk about dresses.’
‘But we men know nothing about dresses,’ Luc
complained.
Madeleine beamed. ‘Then sit silently and learn.’
In fact, they talked about a dozen things, from politics to the best way to bring up children. After a couple of minutes of initial shyness Kelly found herself enjoying the conversation no end. It struck her that it had been months since she had sat with a group of similarly minded friends and…just talked.
So they talked. After quite a while Madeleine stood and said, ‘I can see you two men are looking restless. There’s something to do with work that you have to discuss. Fair enough. For just five minutes Kelly and I will go to make ourselves even more beautiful and you two can plot in our absence. Come, Kelly!’ With a smile Kelly followed Madeleine to the ladies’. She liked her new friend.
The Café des Amis had an unusually luxurious restroom. Kelly sat side by side with Madeleine and the two of them stared at their reflections in the gilt-framed mirrors in front of them. ‘It is good to see Luc out with a new lady,’ Madeleine said, ‘especially one as attractive as you. He has been alone for too long. Perhaps his wife did put him off women, but that must pass!’
Kelly shook her head. ‘We’re not together in that sort of way,’ she said. ‘We both know that we’re friends, not lovers. I look after his daughter, I’m doing some work at the surgery. But that is all.’
‘Friends, not lovers, indeed!’ Madeleine snorted. ‘I have seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one will notice. And I have seen the way you look at him when you think no one will notice. I design and make dresses for women, Kelly, I can tell what they want before they know themselves.’
‘Well, we are good friends,’ Kelly said weakly, ‘but I assure you, that is all.’
‘That may be all for now,’ Madeleine said with assurance. ‘But we will see what the future brings. Now, shall we go back?’
The Country Doctor's Daughter Page 11
