by Rebecca Lang
Of course, she hadn’t loved him in the way that she’d loved Simon. No, they had been colleagues who had worked very closely together and had become close emotionally because of it. There had been no romance, more a fierce sense of loyalty.
The path eventually curved back towards the centre. As they made the turn, Dan stopped, touching her arm again. ‘There’s something else I want to say to you, Signy,’ he said, ‘something that isn’t easy to say.’
She waited.
‘Be careful of Max Seaton,’ he said.
The unexpected warning brought a renewed flush to her face which she was very glad Dan couldn’t see. His own face was a pale blur.
‘Why?’ she said. ‘We’re all mature women here.’
‘He likes to make conquests,’ Dan said. ‘And here he has plenty of opportunity among women who are vulnerable in more ways than one.’
‘Oh?’ she said, antagonism making her tart. ‘And what ways are those, Dr Blake?’
‘I don’t have to spell it out to you, Signy,’ he said quietly.
‘I think we can look after ourselves in that regard,’ she said, ‘thank you very much. So what if a woman wants, and chooses, to have a friendship—or an affair—with a very attractive and nice man? Maybe some of them here do.’
‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘Not wise.’
‘As for me,’ she said, ‘there have been two men in my recent past whom I’ve loved very much. You don’t suddenly stop loving someone because you don’t have them in your life in the same way, or see them.’
‘I know,’ he said.
‘I’m not actively looking for someone, so I don’t think you need to warn me,’ she said. It wasn’t strictly true that she had loved both men in the way that this man was talking about; she hadn’t loved Dominic in the way that she had loved Simon. Dominic had been more like a brother, the relationship growing in the face of shared tensions and work.
Irritatingly, Dan said nothing.
‘This is an odd conversation to be having when you don’t know me, when we just met this morning,’ she commented.
‘As I said before, we don’t have much time. Sometimes we get into situations when we’re very lonely, especially when we’re a long way from home,’ he said. ‘Situations that aren’t ultimately good for us, with no possibility of permanence. It’s the loneliness speaking. We’re particularly vulnerable when we’re on an assignment. It’s understandable. We all do it.’
‘Even you?’ she said.
‘Even me.’
‘I don’t need a lecture,’ she said bluntly. ‘Sometimes we don’t want permanence. I think I’m a pretty good judge of character and motives.’ Had that, in fact, been true with Simon? The thought nagged at her, as well as the memory of her carefree youth, unheeding in many ways. Well, she was older now, perhaps wiser.
‘That’s good,’ he said.
‘Do you make conquests among vulnerable women, Dr Blake?’ she asked, hearing the antagonism in her own voice. She wanted to equalize the situation, where she wasn’t the one answering all the questions.
For a long moment he said nothing, just looked at her, so that she thought he was not going to answer.
‘I prefer to let nature take its course.’ he said. ‘Fifty-fifty.’
They walked back in a somewhat strained silence—at least, she felt strained. As they got closer to the central area they could hear music playing in the mess hall. ‘Someone must have started an impromptu party,’ Dan said. ‘That often happens.’
As they got closer into the lighted area, he turned to her and gave a bow. ‘Will you favour me with the pleasure of this dance, Ms Clover?’
Stiff with an antagonism that she couldn’t understand, Signy none the less conceded that Dan had been straightforward with her, had in many ways been kind. Without speaking, she nodded an assent.
Inside the mess the lights were dim. A stereo was playing soft music. There were not quite enough men to go round, although Signy saw a few other men she hadn’t met before, who presumably worked at the camp and on the island in maintenance, the kitchens, forestry and other areas. Jock McGregor was there.
Dan drew her into his arms, a look of irony on his face as she failed to relax. ‘You can pretend to be enjoying yourself,’ he said, bending his head down to her, ‘then maybe you’ll find that you really are.’
They moved slowly in time to the music in a small space that had been cleared in the centre of the large, utilitarian room.
Terri, in Max’s arms, waved to her, and she began to relax. Dan held her lightly but firmly against his lean, muscular body as they danced, the rhythm coming easily and naturally to him, so it seemed to her. He was a man of surprises. Certainly he wasn’t as mixed up as she felt.
Again she had a feeling of dissonance. How strange it seemed that in such a short time she should be halfway around the world, dancing in a disused military base in the middle of an island forest, with a man she had just met that morning. Yet that was the nature of the work that she had chosen to do. Events were taking place faster than her mind could keep up with them.
Inevitably she eventually relaxed as the music changed several times, and she was surprised to find that she was so close to Dan that she could feel the heat of his body through the thin cotton of her blouse. Hastily she jerked back from him.
‘Would you like a drink?’ Dan queried, no doubt sensing her withdrawal. ‘A Coke, or something?’ There was a light of amusement in his eyes. ‘And I’m going to spread myself around.’
‘Mmm…yes…thanks,’ she mumbled.
As Dan moved away from her through the small crowd, Signy felt herself turned round as though she were as light as a feather and drawn into the arms of Max Seaton. ‘I’ve been waiting for this,’ he said huskily. ‘I thought I was never going to get a look-in.’ He was laughing down at her, his eyes alight with open admiration.
‘Oh?’ she said, thinking again how good-looking he was, how apparently sure of himself. Yet she felt unmoved, apart from a mild curiosity about him.
When the music stopped they were close to the door, manoeuvred there, Signy suspected, by Max.
‘Shall we go out for a little air?’ he said.
‘I’ve just had a lot of air.’ She laughed. ‘And Dan was getting me a drink.’ With that, she eased herself away from him. ‘You have to spread yourself around, Dr Seaton, since there aren’t enough men.’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘You should tell that to the worthy Dan.’
The word ‘worthy’, applied to Dan, was oddly jarring to her, a subtle put-down, she felt. It implied that he was a good man, but a bit of a bumpkin. That certainly didn’t apply to Dan, whom she felt instinctively to be a complex man, sophisticated in an understated way, capable of great surprises. How she knew all that she couldn’t have said at that moment. Indeed, she surprised herself by coming to his defence, if only in her own mind, in spite of her underlying antagonism.
‘Well, excuse me,’ she said, a little awkwardly.
Dan was standing at the counter near the kitchen hatch that was used as a bar, surrounded by some of the other nurses with whom he was in conversation. There was a smile on his face as he talked animatedly to them. If Signy had expected him to be hanging around, waiting for her, she was disabused. Instead, he calmly turned round to pick up a full glass from the bar and hand it to her.
‘Your drink, Ms Clover,’ he said. ‘I rather think that most of the fizz has gone out of it.’
‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly. Somehow she felt there was a hidden meaning in his words.
CHAPTER THREE
SUNDAY was truly a day of rest. Signy got up late, dressed casually and went for a late breakfast which, she found when she got to the mess hall, was combined with brunch until half past two in the afternoon. As she left her own hut, she appreciated the printed sign on the door that separated the sitting room from the passage that led to the sleeping rooms, which said, ABSOLUTE QUIET, PLEASE.
She’d
thought last night that she wouldn’t sleep, as so many thoughts had been churning through her head, but she had, in fact, slept heavily.
Connie and Pearl, as well as two other nurses, were having breakfast. ‘Hello,’ Signy greeted them.
‘Hi,’ Connie said. ‘Come and join us.’
After getting herself coffee, a croissant and some fruit salad, Signy sat down at the table.
‘This is great Indian summer weather, as we call it out here,’ Connie said. ‘Have you got plans for the day, Signy? Some of us were thinking of going for a walk. Are you game?’
‘I’d love to,’ Signy said. ‘First of all I’ve got to set up my laptop and send a few e-mails to family and friends to let them know I got here safely. My mother won’t sleep until she knows I’m all right. I’ve also got to think about jobs, earning a living between assignments. I brought some journals with me to go through.’
‘Same here,’ Pearl said. ‘I guess we chose the wrong outfit with this World Aid business, as far as our families are concerned. They know we’re OK in Canada, although my family knows all about grizzly bears. I’ve said there won’t be any where I’m going, which I think is a lie.’
‘I’ve stopped telling people exactly where I’m being sent if there’s more than average danger,’ Connie said. ‘I find it’s easier on them and on me. But I must be at least fifteen years older than you two, so it’s a bit different for me. I have a son who’s seventeen—he stays with my mother when I’m on an overseas job. He’s secretly proud of me, I think. These days I’m trying not to go anywhere too dangerous. Most of the time I just work here in a city hospital. Give me an earthquake, a landslide, a volcanic eruption or a hurricane, rather than any place where there’s civil unrest or an outbreak of something awful like the Ebola virus.’
They talked, tentatively revealing a few details of their lives.
‘We’ve been given our assignments already for two weeks from tomorrow—there’s a list up on that notice-board over there,’ Pearl said to Signy, pointing to a large cork-board near the door. ‘All of us from Moose Head are going to be with Dan Blake, going by float plane to that little place up the BC coast that Connie was telling us about earlier, Brookes Landing.’
‘It started off as a logging camp years ago,’ Connie chipped in. ‘It has a community hospital, so we’ll be going there to observe and do various things. We have to be ready to leave by seven-thirty at the float-plane dock.’
‘That sounds intriguing,’ Signy said, then went over to the noticeboard to see for herself, feeling a stab of excitement tinged with a certain nervousness that always assailed her at the beginning of a new assignment, even though this was merely a training session.
‘Well,’ she commented, seating herself at the table again, ‘we’ve got two weeks to get to know something about the place. It’s not like going off somewhere at a moment’s notice.’
‘You can say that again.’ Connie smiled. ‘It will be a piece of cake.’
The next two weeks of lectures, orientation and training went by quickly and enjoyably, for the most part. Visiting lecturers came to the island to talk to the group. Dan Blake and Max Seaton were there some of the time, although they had to leave at times to fulfil their commitments to their regular professional jobs on the mainland.
Dan didn’t single her out, Signy was relieved to find, during that time. Over the two weeks she read the booklet that he had given her about earthquakes. The first line in the book was sobering. ‘In the event of an earthquake, consider yourself on your own, and pre-plan for that eventuality,’ it said. It then went on to tell you how to pre-plan, then what to do when the event happened, what to expect. First, you took care of yourself, because no one else would; then you helped those immediately around you, if you were capable of doing so. After that you assisted your neighbours, then you would search for family members if they weren’t in your area. One had to be prepared for the probability that all or most emergency and community services would either break down or be severely inadequate. In other words, one couldn’t expect help.
Although plagued now and then by bad dreams, Signy found that they were fewer than they had been in England, perhaps because she was surrounded by colleagues here who had shared similar experiences. There was a collective empathy that was reassuring.
There were seven people in the plane, including the pilot, on Monday morning two weeks later—the four nurses from Moose Head hut, plus Dan and Max who had both been on the island on the Sunday. This time there was a pilot they hadn’t met before, whose permanent job was flying planes, so Max informed them when they were all seated.
It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining, the air clear and crisp, the sky and sea a pristine blue, contrasting dramatically with the grey rocks on the shoreline of the island and the dark green of the towering conifers. The plane rose into the air and headed northeast, then turned due north when the coast of the mainland came into view, taking them to Brookes Landing. Over the past two weeks they had all studied a detailed map to orientate themselves to where they were going and to understand the lie of the land and islands in between. The other eight nurses were being taken by boat, accompanied by Jock, to some of the other islands where there were medical clinics. It was their intention to observe how these clinics were set up and how they were run on a day-to-day basis.
Signy looked out of the window at the seascape and landscape beneath her, conscious at the same time that Max sat behind her. She felt as though his glance were boring into the back of her neck. For some reason, it seemed he had singled her out for special attention, or maybe he just latched onto anyone who was within his orbit.
Once she looked up ahead to see Dan glancing back briefly, his eyes meeting hers with what she could only term a sardonic expression. Most of the time he was chatting to Terri, who was sitting behind him.
‘You’ll no doubt find Brookes Landing a prosaic little place,’ Max said, as Signy half turned round in her seat to look at him as he spoke, piqued that Dan should see fit to pass judgement and issue warnings about this man, as though she were a child and couldn’t decide for herself. She supposed his intentions were good—she just didn’t know. By now she should be able to take care of herself. Maybe someone should warn her about Dan, she thought as she glanced back at him, now chatting to Connie and Pearl, having to talk loudly above the noise of the plane engine. Not that she was about to get involved with Dan Blake in any way…
‘How long have you been a surgeon at Brookes Landing?’ she asked Max.
‘Quite a few years,’ he said. ‘There and other small places. I travel round a lot. At Brookes Landing we do something of everything in the way of surgery, as long as we feel we can cope with it. There’s a fair amount of trauma, although we have a good service for moving patients out to Vancouver if we get something we can’t cope with.’
Signy nodded in commiseration, suspecting that Max wasn’t making idle conversation to pass the time. Everything he was telling her, everything he was showing her from the window, was part of the orientation and training process. They were passing over other small islands.
There was something about being in a strange place, she thought, that helped you to see yourself and your concerns from the outside, to see yourself as others might see you to a certain extent. It made some of those concerns seem petty.
Brookes Landing turned out to be not quite big enough for a town—more a large, scattered village of small wood-frame houses that were built over a series of hills, beginning not far from the ocean. On the far side, where the houses ended, there was a large cleared area, before the forest began. The nurses could see all that from the air as they came in to land on the water.
They trooped up from the dock to a terminus building that was basic in the extreme. ‘We have to check in,’ Max said, speaking to the nurses. ‘They like to know who’s here in the community, especially the whereabouts of doctors and nurses. We have a mini-van parked here, which belongs to the hospital.’
‘This looks like a frontier town,’ Pearl remarked, with calm understatement.
‘It’s cut off,’ Dan said. ‘The roads don’t go anywhere after the first few miles. There are a lot of logging roads—tracks really. You travel by plane and boat.’
They all got into the van, and when Max joined them they drove off slowly up a hill, with Dan driving. A light rain began to fall. Looking back towards the ocean, Signy saw that in the short time that they had been there a thin grey mist had come up over the water.
The four nurses looked around them avidly, not saying much. The remoteness of the place, the feeling of being cut off, with the brooding forest in the background, was sobering to them. Signy felt as though she were driving through a Christmas card scene, with conifers here and there and the rather quaint small wooden houses. There were few people on the narrow streets. She saw a harbour where boats were moored, then a general store and post office, where a man stood outside and waved as they went by.
‘That’s my cabin,’ Dan said, pointing to what Signy thought of as a large shack, a wooden structure covered with unpainted wood siding, the roof covered with cedar shingles. It had a verandah over the front door, where she could just read a sign as they drove by which said HERON COTTAGE.
‘Is this your home, Dr Blake?’ Connie asked politely, yet unable to keep a slightly incredulous note out of her voice.
‘Only when I have to be in Brookes Landing,’ he said. ‘I have a place in the city.’
The others said nothing, just exchanged glances, wondering how they themselves would fare in this rather wild place.
The hospital was one of the few concrete buildings in the village, a single-storey, rather spread-out building, set among trees and gardens. ‘This hospital serves other communities up the coast,’ Max said as he pushed open the main doors to the central part of the building and they all trooped in ahead of him, ‘as well as people who live out in the bush nearer to the logging camps.’
