Mediterranean Rescue

by Laura MacDonald

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Penny with a laugh. ‘I do…’ She paused. ‘Don’t you?’ She added curiously.

  ‘Yes, I guess so,’ Claire replied in the same noncommittal tone, ‘but you forget, I’m spoken for. It wouldn’t do for me to go round singing the praises of a newcomer, would it?’

  ‘No, I guess not.’ Penny paused. ‘Nor me, I suppose,’ she added ruefully. ‘But if I was single again…and a few years younger, I can tell you…Dr Dominic Hansford would have to watch out.’ She laughed. ‘I tell you something else, though,’ she said, ‘he’s caused no end of a stir amongst the receptionists.’

  ‘Has he?’ said Claire weakly.

  ‘Well, you can imagine, can’t you?’ Penny laughed. ‘The minute they set eyes on him when he came in last week they were falling over themselves trying to attract his attention, and from what I can make out this morning they’ve got bets going as to which one of them he will ask out first.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Claire, ‘really?’ She paused then, taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Do they know that he is free?’

  ‘Well, we know he isn’t married,’ said Penny. ‘Susan told us that—he was asked that when he signed his contract and I guess as far as the girls are concerned that’s all that matters. All I can say is, Dominic Hansford, watch out.’

  Claire turned away, suddenly sick at heart as she began taking dressing packs out of the cupboard. During the morning she had almost come to terms with the fact that she was going to have to work alongside Dominic for the next six months, and that was bad enough, but the prospect of him being involved with another member of staff whilst he was there was something else entirely and not something she even wanted to contemplate.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘I WOULD like the doctor to take a look at your leg today, Mrs Hendy, before we put another dressing on,’ said Claire, speaking loudly for the benefit of her elderly patient who was rather hard of hearing.

  The old lady looked up in alarm. ‘Why?’ she demanded. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it, is there?’

  ‘No.’ Claire shook her head then, hastening to reassure her, she added, ‘The ulcer is healing nicely but there’s a bit of swelling around it so we’ll just let Doctor have a look at it.’

  ‘It isn’t Dr Lewis, is it?’ Mrs Hendy sounded suspicious now.

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ Claire replied. ‘It’s Dr Hansford.’

  ‘Never heard of him,’ said the old lady with a loud sniff.

  ‘That’s because he’s new,’ said Claire with a smile. ‘He’s taken Dr Lewis’s place for a while.’

  ‘What’s he like?’ Mrs Hendy still sounded dubious.

  ‘Well, he’s a very good doctor,’ replied Claire guardedly. Dominic had been at the Hargreaves Centre for several days now but she still found it incredibly difficult talking about him to anyone.

  ‘I didn’t mean that. What I meant was what’s he like as a person?’

  Claire took a deep breath. ‘He’s nice,’ she said at last. ‘You’ll like him.’

  Mrs Hendy peered up at Claire from beneath the brim of the straw sunhat she was wearing. ‘Do you like him?’ she said.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Claire swallowed. ‘Like I say—he’s nice.’ Her tone, she hoped, was casual but inside, silently, she was screaming. Like him? I adore him!

  As if to compound her feelings and to frustrate her even further, Dominic, at that moment, right on cue, came into the treatment room. If she had thought he’d looked handsome in Italy in casual holiday clothes her heart turned over now as he strolled into the room in a crisp white shirt and a pair of beautifully tailored trousers, his hair tamed with gel so that it looked even darker than usual. Immediately his eyes met hers. ‘Sister Schofield?’ Questioningly he raised his dark eyebrows.

  ‘I…I was just coming to fetch you, Dr Hansford,’ Claire managed to reply. ‘This is Mrs Hendy—she comes to me regularly to have the dressings changed on her leg ulcer. Mrs Hendy is a diabetic and has medication for a heart condition.’

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Hendy.’ Dominic took the notes that Claire handed to him and glanced at them. ‘Or may I call you Alice?’ he asked a moment later with his devastating smile.

  Claire, who was watching Alice Hendy, saw the immediate transformation as her look of suspicion changed to an almost girlish smile.

  ‘You may,’ she said. ‘I don’t really mind my Christian name being used but I do like to be asked first.’

  ‘Do we have any concerns, Sister?’ murmured Dominic as he continued perusing the notes.

  ‘The ulcer is healing nicely, Doctor,’ said Claire, hoping desperately that no one could hear the rapid beating of her heart, something that always seemed to happen these days whenever Dominic was anywhere near her, ‘but there is some swelling around the area which I’d like you to take a look at.’

  ‘I see.’ Handing the notes back to Claire, Dominic crouched down in front of Alice and gently began examining the rather taut skin around the ulcer. All that Claire, watching, could think about was how those very hands had touched her, exploring and caressing her own skin so gently and so tenderly. Almost as if he could read her thoughts, Dominic glanced up at her and Claire, in a determined effort to concentrate on what was happening, attempted to pull herself together and put all thoughts of forbidden nights of love right out of her mind.

  ‘I think,’ he said, ‘you can go ahead and dress the ulcer, Sister, but we do have some oedema there so I will adjust Alice’s prescription for her diuretics.’

  ‘Thank you, Doctor,’ Claire replied briskly, then, after Dominic had washed his hands and left the treatment room, she set about applying the new dressing to Alice’s leg.

  ‘Well,’ said Alice with a bemused expression on her face, ‘you were certainly right there, Sister. He is nice—very nice, in fact.’ She paused. ‘How long did you say he’s here for?’

  ‘Six months,’ Claire replied as she lifted the dressing squares with tweezers and put them in place over the ulcer. Six whole months! How on earth was she going to bear it?

  ‘I wouldn’t mind if he stayed,’ said Alice with a little grunt.

  ‘That’s very fickle of you,’ said Claire, forced to smile in spite of the way she was feeling. ‘What about poor Dr Lewis?’

  ‘Oh, don’t get me wrong,’ said Alice. ‘Dr Lewis is very nice but just lately, I don’t know, he doesn’t seem to have had much time for anyone—he seemed so tense all the time.’

  ‘That’s one of the reasons he’s taking a break,’ said Claire, as she began to bandage Alice’s leg and to find herself wondering how on earth she would cope if Dominic were to stay at the Hargreaves Centre permanently. Six months was bad enough but at least she could work on the assumption that one day it would come to an end and he would move on out of her life once again. But even that, of course, was in the future, and in the meantime she had to cope with him there, seeing him, being close to him day after day, having him there beside her when she and Mike moved in together as undoubtedly they shortly would.

  She had just completed the dressing when Dominic came back into the treatment room with Alice Hendy’s amended prescriptions. ‘There you are, Alice,’ he said, handing her the forms. ‘You will see that I’ve changed the strength of one of your tablets and added a new set to the ones you are already taking. I would like to see you again in a week’s time.’

  ‘Thank you very much, Doctor,’ said Alice solemnly. ‘It’s been a pleasure meeting you.’

  Alice had barely had time to leave the room, walking very slowly with the aid of two walking sticks, when the intercom sounded and Claire seized the receiver, pleased for any diversion that prevented her from being totally alone with Dominic. It was Sara, one of the receptionists, on the other end.

  ‘Claire?’ she said, ‘Is Dr Hansford with you?’

  ‘Yes, Sara he is,’ she replied.

  ‘Has he finished his surgery?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll ask him.’ She turned to Dominic. ‘Sara is asking if y
ou have finished your surgery,’ she said. When Dominic nodded, she said, ‘Yes, he has, Sara.’

  ‘We have a young man here who has come off his bike,’ said the receptionist. ‘He has quite a deep gash on his forehead which looks as if it might need stitching. Should I send him to A and E or will Dr Hansford see him?’

  ‘Just a minute.’ Covering the mouthpiece with her hand, Claire relayed the receptionist’s query to Dominic.

  ‘Tell her to send him in,’ said Dominic. ‘I’ll take a look at him before I go out on my house calls.’

  ‘Send him in, Sara,’ said Claire. ‘Dr Hansford says he will have a look at him.’

  There came the sound of a loud sigh from the other end of the line. ‘I wish all the doctors were as easygoing as that,’ said Sara.

  With a tight little smile Claire hung up, turned to begin clearing up, then realised that Dominic was right behind her, so close that if she moved by as much as an inch they would be touching. For a moment she remained very still, hardly daring to breathe, but still he didn’t move.

  ‘Dominic…?’ she said at last.

  ‘Claire,’ he murmured. He was so close she could feel his warm breath on the nape of her neck and for a moment, foolishly, recklessly, she allowed herself to imagine they were back in Rome on that sultry summer’s night.

  ‘We need to talk,’ he went on eventually, breaking the spell.

  ‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ she said with a little sigh.

  He caught his breath. ‘I would say we have everything to talk about,’ he said softly. ‘I need to talk about the way I feel—I need to hear you talk about the way you feel…’

  ‘But we’ve said all that,’ Claire protested.

  ‘We may have said it once, then,’ said Dominic, ‘but I need to know how you feel about me now.’ Very gently he touched the back of her neck and Claire felt a shiver of desire run down her spine.

  ‘You know the situation now,’ she whispered. ‘I told you there can be no more between us, that I have Mike…’

  ‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘I know all that, but I need to hear you say that you honestly don’t feel anything for me now. Can you do that, Claire? Can you?’

  She was saved from answering by a sudden tap at the door, and as she turned sharply Dominic moved away from her and Sara came into the room, accompanied by a young man holding a bloodstained towel to his head.

  ‘This is Lee Nicholls,’ said Sara. ‘He’s sixteen years old and he came off his bike and hit his head on a kerb.’

  ‘Hello, Lee.’ Dominic moved towards the boy and gently lifted the towel away from his head.

  From where she was standing Claire could see that a cut on the side of the boy’s forehead was still oozing blood.

  ‘Right,’ said Dominic, ‘let’s have you sitting down.’ Gently he led the teenager to a chair and while Sara left the room to return to the reception desk, Claire quickly set up a trolley with equipment to cleanse, tape and dress a wound.

  ‘Is it really bad?’ asked Lee, anxiously peering up at Claire from under the towel.

  ‘Nothing that we can’t put right,’ replied Dominic cheerfully as he pulled on a pair of surgical gloves.

  ‘But there’s so much blood.’ Lee was looking decidedly pale and Dominic hastened to reassure him. ‘We’ve had worse, haven’t we, Sister?’ he said, turning to Claire.

  ‘We have indeed,’ Claire replied, suspecting that Dominic was referring to Diane and the battle they’d had in trying to control the bleeding from her head wound.

  And as she passed swabs to Dominic to cleanse the area his eyes met hers. ‘No wet wipes today, Sister?’ he asked lightly, and she knew then for sure that he, too, was thinking of that other time when they had worked together. The conditions then had been vastly different from the clinical resources available to them today, but the outcome had depended on each other’s professional expertise every bit as much, if not more, as it did now.

  Within a few minutes Dominic had applied dressing strips to close the wound and Claire covered it with gauze dressing, which she taped into position before drawing up and administering an antitetanus injection. By the time they had finished, Lee’s father had arrived at the centre to take him home.

  ‘Keep an eye on him,’ said Dominic. ‘There doesn’t appear to be any concussion but if he shows signs of excessive drowsiness he will need to go into A and E for an X-ray.’

  After Lee and his father had left the treatment room and Claire was clearing away the soiled swabs and empty packaging, Dominic peeled off his gloves and dropped them into the waste bin. ‘Talking of Diane…’ he said.

  ‘Were we?’ Claire raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he replied softly, ‘I think we both know we were.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ she agreed at last, still somewhat reluctant to acknowledge, especially to Dominic, any recollections from that other traumatic time. ‘Yes, I suppose we were.’

  ‘I rang the hospital this morning,’ he said.

  ‘And…?’ Claire allowed her gaze to meet his.

  ‘They have managed to disperse the blood clot,’ he replied, ‘and they said she had come round briefly.’

  ‘But that’s wonderful!’ Claire stared at him, all notions of reticence abandoned now in the face of this uplifting news.

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed quietly, ‘it is. It’s still early days, of course, but I managed to speak to Russell and he was very optimistic—there was even talk of flying her home maybe some time next week.’

  ‘He must be so relieved,’ said Claire. She paused. ‘Was there any news of Ted?’ she added.

  ‘Yes, he and May flew home at the end of last week,’ said Dominic. ‘I imagine he’s in hospital in this country now, but he should improve slowly in time.’

  ‘There were times that I really feared for both Diane and Ted,’ said Claire slowly. ‘I simply didn’t think we had the resources to give them the attention they needed…Evelyn, too,’ she added. All thoughts of avoiding the subject were abandoned now as once again she and Dominic relived those terrifying moments.

  ‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘I felt the same way.’ He had been fiddling with an empty dressing pack but he threw it down now onto the worktop. ‘Claire,’ he said urgently, turning towards her, ‘we do need to talk, you know.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed helplessly, ‘yes, I suppose we do…’

  ‘What we went through was pretty traumatic in itself, without the added involvement of what happened afterwards,’ he said.

  ‘I know,’ she agreed. ‘I did…I did see one of our counsellors here a couple of times and I think I dealt with any post-traumatic stress…’

  ‘Good, but I don’t suppose you mentioned the other trauma—the trauma that we went through.’

  ‘Is that what you call it—a trauma?’ she said softly, looking up at him.

  ‘Well, it’s certainly traumatised me,’ he said. A smile played around the corners of his mouth and Claire suddenly had an overwhelming desire to reach up and kiss him. She could have done so quite easily because he was standing so close. All she had to do was to stretch up and…

  ‘So much so,’ he went on, ‘that I was incapable of returning to the job that I love—the job that once meant the whole world to me.’ There was a look of almost helpless desperation in his eyes now.

  ‘We will talk, Dominic,’ she said at last, ‘I promise you. We will talk and we will try and sort out this thing that happened between us…’ She broke off as the treatment-room door suddenly swung open.

  Penny came into the room and almost stopped in her tracks as she caught sight of the two of them and gave them a sharp, almost surprised look. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I’m sorry—am I interrupting something?’

  ‘No,’ said Claire, rapidly pulling herself together, ‘of course not.’ She moved smartly away from Dominic and carried on with her clearing up but it wasn’t until much later when she was alone that it dawned on her just how close to each other she and Dominic had been standin
g and of how it must have looked to Penny.

  ‘Claire, darling, I hardly seem to have seen you since you got back from Italy.’ It was the following day and Claire was sharing a hurried lunch-break in the staffroom with Mike.

  ‘I know,’ she agreed, ‘but I did spend a week of that time in Portsmouth.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Mike bit into a sandwich. ‘But even since then it all seems to have been pretty impossible. Tell me, are you free this evening?’

  ‘Er, yes.’ She frowned. ‘Yes, I think so. What did you have in mind?’

  ‘Well,’ Mike considered, ‘if I was to pick you up around seven o’clock I thought we could go and have a bite of supper somewhere—just the two of us. I feel we have a lot of catching up to do.’

  ‘That sounds lovely, Mike,’ Claire heard herself say. And it would have been lovely once. Before her trip to Italy there would have been nothing she would have liked better than to spend an evening alone with Mike—too often one or both of his children were included and although she didn’t mind that, it was nice to have Mike to herself sometimes. So if that was the case, why did she feel so differently now? Why had she been avoiding spending any time with Mike?

  She knew the answer, of course. Before her holiday she hadn’t met Dominic and now that she had, everything had changed.

  She had to sort herself out, she told herself firmly as she sat and watched Mike as he tucked heartily into his lunch, at the same time signing an absolute mountain of repeat prescriptions. She had to forget Dominic and pick up the threads of her relationship with Mike again. It would take a supreme effort to do so, especially as she now had to contend with seeing Dominic day after day, but it had to be done. She couldn’t betray Mike any more than she already had, it simply wouldn’t be fair to him—he deserved better. He’d been hurt badly enough as it was by Jan when she had walked out on him. She couldn’t be the one responsible for putting him through that sort of pain again.

  As the thoughts teemed round in her head Mike glanced up, oblivious to her turmoil. ‘The new man’s settling in well, isn’t he?’ he said.