by Lucy Clark
Cynthia was wringing her hands together. ‘It all happened so quickly. He was carrying glasses and bottles and I don’t know, I think he just slipped or lost his footing or—Oh, my…’ Her eyes went wide as she saw the blood on the floor. ‘He’s bleeding! Rayne!’
‘Cyn, it’s OK. Henry is a general surgeon. He not only sees this sort of thing all the time but he’s also the man who can fix it. Why don’t you take Jazzy out and keep her company? You can both go and flag down the ambulance. How about that?’
Jasmine took Cynthia’s hand, apparently not at all squeamish about what was happening right in front of her. A few people who’d been dining in the bistro came in to help and while Henry and Rayne attended to Damian, they were able to clear up some of the mess surrounding them.
‘You have a very nasty gash to your abdomen,’ Henry told Damian. ‘But don’t worry about it, I can fix it.’
‘Good.’
When the ambulance arrived, they made sure Damian was secure on the stretcher. Henry rode in the back with the patient to keep him stable. Rayne and Jasmine sat up front with the paramedics.
‘Why aren’t the sirens on?’ Jasmine wanted to know.
‘Because there’s no traffic on the road to block our way to the hospital.’
‘But this is an ambulance. The sirens are s’posed to be on,’ she said.
‘You’re absolutely right. Sorry, Jaz.’ The paramedic dutifully switched the siren on and Jasmine clapped.
‘Much better.’
When they arrived at the hospital, Rayne left Henry to deal with getting the patient into the treatment room and took Jasmine to the ward where her friend Tanya was on duty.
‘Emergency?’ Tanya asked as Jasmine ran to her and gave her a big hug.
‘Yes. You’ll take care of Jazzy?’
‘Do you even need to ask? Go.’ Tanya shooed her away and Rayne returned to A and E, pulling on a protective gown as she entered the emergency treatment room. Henry had just finished washing his hands as the nursing staff cut away Damian’s clothes and the makeshift bandage Henry had fashioned.
‘Are you happy for me to take the lead on this?’ he asked as he pulled on a pair of gloves.
Rayne followed suit. ‘Absolutely. You’re the general surgeon.’
‘The anaesthetist has been called?’
‘I’m presuming so.’ She checked with the triage nurse and had it confirmed. ‘Stuie Rhodes should be here soon. He doesn’t live far.’
‘Good.’ Then he turned his attention to the room. ‘My name is Henry. I’m a general surgeon from Sydney. Patient status, please?’
‘BP is 100 over 50.’
‘Plasma intravenous, saline intravenous. Laceration measuring approximately seven inches across.’
‘Blood alcohol level is zero.’
Rayne had hooked on her stethoscope and was checking Damian’s heart and lungs before continuing with the rest of her neurological observations. Henry carefully began assessing the abdominal laceration, a frown on his face. When he was finished, he replaced the dressing and looked at the nurse closest to him.
‘Cross-type and match. I’ll need to see the anaesthetist the instant he arrives. Rayne, take me to Theatres so I can familiarise myself with the set-up.’
With that, Henry headed from the room, Rayne hard on his heels. ‘You’ll be assisting me.’
Rayne only nodded at this information, not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
‘Is that all right?’
‘It’s fine.’
‘Really? A lot of GPs don’t like Theatre.’
‘So why do you want me to assist?’ She pointed to the right and pressed the keypad to unlock the door that led to the theatre prep and scrub area.
Henry took quick stock of his surroundings before looking at her. ‘I don’t know. I’d just like you to be in Theatre with me.’
‘Consider it done.’
‘Now, are there any forms I need to sign? I’m not registered to work at this hospital.’
Rayne waved his words away. ‘We can take care of that afterwards. This isn’t a big, bustling hospital, remember. Anyway, changing rooms are this way.’
Once they were both dressed in blue theatre garb, they came out to start scrubbing, Henry talking through some of his thoughts about how he planned to fix Damian’s injury. He noticed that Rayne didn’t seem at all fazed by the prospect of assisting him.
Before Henry could ask any more questions, Stuie Rhodes came in and the two doctors started to discuss the case, Rayne listening.
All too soon they were in Theatre. Rayne was standing opposite Henry, the X-rays of Damian’s abdomen were up on the viewing box, a unit of blood was being transfused into their patient, along with a unit of saline, and they’d almost finished debriding the wound.
She held the retractors, passed Henry the suction and had the sutures ready when he needed them. Henry performed the procedure in a methodical way, taking each organ in turn and making sure everything was perfect before moving on to the next.
‘You’re very apt at surgery,’ Henry commented after the first hour. ‘Have you done training?’
‘Two years.’
‘What happened?’
‘My mother became ill.’
‘Oh?’
‘She passed away two years ago.’
Henry processed this information. Two years ago Rayne had moved to Deniliquin. Had it been to escape bad memories? He knew all about those. Two years ago his wife had been in a terrible accident and his life had changed overnight.
‘Do you have any plans to continue with surgery?’
‘Not directly.’ She wished he’d change the topic to either what he was doing with the operation or something else…anything else, rather than putting her under the spotlight.
‘Suction,’ was the next thing he said, and Rayne was thankful he wasn’t going to persist with his present line of questioning. Once they’d installed a wound drain and checked its position with an X-ray, Henry was satisfied and began to close the wound in layers.
Finally, after two hours, Damian was wheeled to Recovery and Rayne began to degown. ‘You were brilliant,’ she told Henry.
‘Thank you.’
‘You saved his life.’
‘It’s my job.’ He didn’t seem all that excited about it. She guessed that for him this had been just like another day at the office.
‘I’m not sure you understand, Henry. Out here, we’re pretty remote. If you hadn’t been here, Damian would have been airlifted to Wagga Wagga, and with the rate he was bleeding, he might not have made it,’ she felt compelled to point out. They’d removed their theatre garb and were on their way back to the nurses’ station to write up the paperwork.
He processed this information, seeing the bright light in her eyes, seeing the love of what she did radiating out from her. How he wished he felt as good about his job as she did now. ‘Well, he did make it and that’s what really counts.’
Rayne was a little concerned with how he was brushing this aside. It was as though he didn’t really enjoy what he did any more, and for a surgeon that would be quite disheartening. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to go over the top. I just want you to know I am grateful for you being here.’
‘You’re welcome. Now, how about we get the red tape taken care of and then figure out how to get home tonight?’
‘No sweat. There are several people here who can give us a lift or let us borrow their car.’
‘Really?’
Rayne laughed. ‘This isn’t Sydney, Henry.’
‘I think I’m finally starting to get the message.’
Rayne sighed, unable to believe the way she felt when she was with him. He was handsome, brilliant and quite funny. A winning combination and a very dangerous one as well. He would only be in town for a short time before heading back to wherever he lived to continue working as a general surgeon, no doubt with a gaggle of pretty colleagues chasing after him.
That thought didn’t appea
l to her at all and she pushed it out of her mind. Henry was a new friend and that was all there was to it. The fact that she was attracted to him meant nothing. She was in control of her life and she intended to remain so.
At the nurses’station, Henry started writing up Damian’s operation notes while Rayne found the forms he needed to complete to ensure the red tape was stuck firmly in place. She called the ward to check on Jasmine and was told by Tanya that the child was currently asleep in a spare bed.
‘Jasmine’s all right?’ Henry asked when she’d finished on the phone.
‘Yes. She’s sleeping, which is good because she has school tomorrow.’
‘And how are you coping with instant motherhood?’
Rayne thought on his question for a moment. ‘Getting better, or at least I like to think I am.’
‘I’m sure you’re doing just fine.’ Henry had finished writing up Damian’s notes and had picked up a piece of paper, which he folded, his fingers moving with sure, firm strokes.
‘You don’t have any children?’ She was sure he’d said so the other day but she wanted to check.
‘No.’
‘Do you want children?’
He looked up from what he was doing. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I don’t know. You seem sort of…disjointed.’
She’d used that word before when she’d been talking about her upbringing. He guessed that was why she could see it in him. ‘Actually, Rayne, I feel disjointed, or perhaps disconnected is a better word.’ He shook his head and returned his attention to his paper folding. ‘I don’t want to bore you.’
Rayne pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘I’m not bored and we both need to wait for a while before we check on Damian. I’m a good listener.’
‘I’ll bet you are. Is that why you settled for becoming a GP?’
‘One of the reasons.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I like being a GP. It’s rewarding, it’s encompassing, it’s personal.’
‘But does it give you the excitement you feel when you’re in surgery?’
‘No. I have to say it doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean that I want to throw away what I have here to go and study some more.’
‘If you had the opportunity, though. Would you?’
Rayne shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I have Jasmine now and she’s definitely filled a very large void in my life.’
‘The void left by her parents’ death?’
‘Yes.’
‘I know all about that void.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes.’ He smoothed the paper but Rayne wasn’t all that interested in what his fingers were doing. She was watching his expressions like a hawk, trying to decipher them. She could also feel him distancing himself and she knew it was time to let go.
‘I think I’ll go check on Jazzy and see if I can rustle us up a lift home.’
‘Rayne. Wait.’ Henry held out the paper he’d been folding. ‘Here. This is for you.’
What he held out was a beautiful rose—an origami rose—perfectly made. Rayne took it, looking at the delicacy of it. Well, the man was a surgeon, which meant he was good with his hands.
She looked up. ‘This is…’ She shook her head, feeling a lump starting to form in her throat. ‘It’s…’ she swallowed ‘…the nicest thing anyone has ever given me. Thank you.’ She touched the petals. It was simple, it was elegant and he’d made it himself. She swallowed again. ‘It’s beautiful.’
Henry was completely taken aback at her reaction. He’d initially started to make the rose as a way of calming himself down because of the nature of the conversation they’d been having. He hadn’t expected to see such overwhelming and raw emotion come into her eyes.
‘I’m glad you like it.’
‘Where did you learn to do this?’
He looked down at the desk for a moment before deciding to take a chance. He usually found it difficult to open up to new people and when he finally told them his sad little story, the pain and sympathy they offered sickened him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded.
‘I used to have quite a bit of…extra time on my hands.’
‘A surgeon? Really?’
‘My…wife. She was sick. In a coma, actually. For two years. Six months ago she contracted an infection which her body couldn’t fight.’
Rayne sat back down and just listened. He’d pulled out another sheet of paper and began folding again. She could tell he wasn’t finished, that he had more to say, so she remained silent. Waiting for him to continue in his own time.
‘I found a book. Taught myself the art of paper folding while I sat by her bedside every night when I wasn’t working. It helped to pass the time.’ He looked up at her, stared into her eyes. He saw sorrow and understanding there but no false sympathy. ‘And that’s where I learned to make the roses.’
Rayne smiled and touched the one he’d given her. ‘They really are things of beauty. Thank you.’
‘For sharing with you or for the rose?’
Her smile increased. ‘Both.’ His words now explained so much about him. Why he didn’t seem to enjoy his job. Why he had needed to get away from his life in Sydney. Why he seemed to be searching for himself. Emotional trauma had a way of creeping up on a person and for most people it usually hit them about six months after the event when daily life started to settle down…settle down without the people you loved being there.
‘I’ll go see about that ride home.’ She stood and headed off, and Henry watched her walk away. She really was an extraordinary woman.
The following Monday, Rayne had just returned from the airstrip and was in the supermarket, picking up some essentials.
‘Hello,’ a deep male voice said from behind her. Rayne’s smile was automatic as she instantly recognised the voice as belonging to Henry. She turned.
‘Hi, yourself.’
‘How have you been?’
‘Busy.’
‘I figured as much. Haven’t seen you about all that often.’
‘Ah, well, people are starting to arrive for the festival, which begins this coming Sunday.’
‘I know. I’ve been officially recruited onto Willard’s team.’
Rayne laughed. ‘Oh, you poor thing. Some holiday you’re having.’
‘Actually, it’s been just what the doctor ordered, so to speak. I’d probably have gone mad just sitting around the pool all day long.’
‘Need to keep the brain going, eh?’
‘Something like that.’ Henry couldn’t help but look her over, his gaze drinking her in as though making sure his memory had remembered her accurately. Today she was wearing a black skirt, which came to mid-thigh, and a red knit top. Her hair was scooped up into a high ponytail on her head and she was even wearing a touch of lipstick. No, his memory hadn’t been lax but it also hadn’t done her natural, radiant beauty justice. ‘You look nice.’
‘Thanks. I’ve been consulting all day, have just picked Jasmine’s grandparents up from the airstrip, and if I don’t get this shopping done, I’ll be late collecting Jaz from school.’
‘Got your ute back, then?’
‘Well…yes and no. I made Godfrey at least patch it up so I could get around but he’ll still need to do more work on it once the festival’s over.’ She picked up some coffee from the shelf and put it in her trolley. ‘Want to shop with me?’
‘Uh…sure.’ Henry only carried a basket which contained a few pieces of fruit, a litre of milk and a bottle of juice.
Rayne hadn’t taken two steps before her phone rang. She shook her head as she pulled it from her waistband and checked the caller ID. ‘Some days…’
‘Wish you could ignore it?’
‘Exactly. Hi, Brian. What’s up?’ She listened intently then looked at her watch. ‘I can be out there around four-thirty.’ Another pause. ‘That’s the best I can do, Brian.’ She smiled. ‘OK. See you then.’ She shut her phone and clipped it back in place. ‘Feel like spending some more time with me?’
‘House call?’
‘Yes. Patient’s been having recurring abdominal pain and although I’ve run test after test, I can’t seem to find what’s wrong. We’ve tried different strains of antibiotics but nothing seems to be working.’
‘Why not refer him to a specialist?’
‘Tried that. He refuses to leave his house. Makes it difficult to X-ray him and I can’t really ask a specialist from Wagga to come and take a look.’
‘But as I’m here in town…’
‘And you’ve offered to help…’
‘I did. It’s no problem, Rayne.’ In fact, he was secretly delighted at the opportunity to spend more time with her. Since they’d operated together on Damian Simmons last Wednesday, Rayne had been constantly on his mind. It was as though the instant he’d told her about his wife, even though he’d only given her the briefest of outlines, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Perhaps it was also the people of Deniliquin, who had embraced him as one of their own, getting him to help out, chatting with him, inviting him for dinner in the evenings. Country hospitality was well and truly alive in this small town and he was loving every minute of it. He could see quite well why Rayne liked it here. She’d once called it her sanctuary and he understood that completely as that was exactly how he was coming to see things.
‘So you said Jasmine’s grandparents are here now?’
‘Yes. Earlene likes to get here early enough to enter the cake-baking and decorating competition. She and Jazzy are supposed to do a test run as soon as school’s out.’ Rayne held up the shopping list. ‘Hence this trip to the supermarket.’ She continued to fill the list as they walked around, Henry telling her about some of the things he’d done during the past few days.
‘It really does seem as though you’ve been having a great time,’ she said after they’d been through the checkout and were wheeling the wayward trolley towards her ute. The trolley, however, seemed to have a life of its own, its wheels turning one way when she wanted them to turn another.
‘Whoa.’ Henry came around her to lend a hand to slow it down and Rayne skidded slightly. In the next instant both of Henry’s arms were around her, his hands firm on the trolley, bringing it to a stop right next to her ute… But he didn’t move.
