But no...arriving just in time for her first appointment, Olivia discovered that it was something else that was distressing Peggy.
‘Can’t you see it? I can’t bear to look in a mirror. I haven’t let anyone photograph me since I noticed.’
‘I think you look wonderful, Peggy. You always do.’
‘But...look...my eyes are completely different sizes. Even my eyebrows aren’t even. It’s that brow lift I had years ago, isn’t it? Before I started coming here. Oh... I knew that was a mistake. I should make a complaint. Sue them, perhaps?’
‘It was a long time ago. Things do change over time.’ Olivia was having to work hard to sound sympathetic. Her patient was well into her seventies. Surely she would have to accept ageing a little more gracefully soon? Her grandmother had it nailed, she thought. About to celebrate being ninety and what you noticed about her was that the deepest creases on her face were the ones that accompanied that warm and welcoming smile.
Peggy put down the hand mirror she had been peering into so that she could show Olivia exactly what she was worried about.
‘You can fix it, though, can’t you? Redo the brow lift? Would that work?’
‘It would be another general anaesthetic for you, Peggy. We do need to consider your problems with your blood pressure and your heart when thinking about a more major procedure like that. I wouldn’t recommend it.’
‘But would it work? Without leaving a visible scar?’
The mention of a scar made Olivia instantly wonder how Shayna was today and whether she had followed all the instructions to help her injury heal swiftly. She’d love to be there when the stitches came out to see whether she was justified in feeling as satisfied as she did with that work. Right now, however, she had to think about creating scars that were totally unnecessary rather than helping someone get past what could have been a disfiguring accident.
‘The scars for a brow lift are hidden by the hair,’ she told Peggy. ‘It could certainly address the unevenness you’re aware of but, as I said, there are risks—’
‘No.’ Peggy’s head shake was firm. ‘No “buts”. You’re not going to talk me out of it, Dr Donaldson. Book me in, please. As soon as possible.’ She stood up. ‘I know you’re going to insist that I have all sorts of tests first but I like that about you. You’re careful and that’s how I know I’m in safe hands. Just call me, dear, when you’ve got a date for me.’
Olivia did pick up the phone later that afternoon but it wasn’t to call Peggy Eglington with an admission date to the Plastic Surgery Institute’s ward in the private hospital. It was a call to a hospital at the other end of the country.
‘His name’s Don Donaldson,’ she told the operator. ‘He was brought in by helicopter yesterday afternoon from Central Otago. I imagine he’s in Intensive Care?’
‘Who’s calling, please?’
‘I’m his daughter. Olivia Donaldson.’
It didn’t feel weird to say that now. It felt important. A ticket to being given some information that she was anxious to have and it was very reassuring to have her call passed to one of the doctors in the ICU.
‘He’s doing very well,’ she was told. ‘He went for endoscopy first thing this morning to see if any further surgery was needed but...’ There was an incredulous huff of sound on the other end of the line as if this doctor was shaking her head. ‘I can’t believe that somebody could operate in a country hospital that hasn’t been used for surgery for years and do such a good job. That doctor your father works with is a bit of a hero, I’d say. Cutler’s Creek is lucky to have him.’
Olivia could feel a lump forming in her throat as she thought back to watching Zac performing that surgery. She felt so...proud of him? Cutler’s Creek wasn’t going to have him for much longer, though. She wondered if her father knew about that yet.
‘If it’s all good, how come he still needs to be in Intensive Care?’
‘It’s just a precaution. He lost a lot of blood so we’ll keep a close eye on him for at least the rest of today. Oh...he’s just had an MRI as well and you’ll be happy to know that there’s nothing obviously wrong with his pancreas at all. I think we’ve been able to reassure him completely that he’s not about to follow in his father’s footsteps.’
A corner of Olivia’s mouth curved up. Zac would no doubt be delighted to know he’d been right about that. She could just imagine the gleam in those gorgeous brown eyes. How good would it have been to be the one to tell him that news? And that the specialists from a major centre had been so impressed with his skills in operating. Olivia could imagine exactly what it would be like to be holding that gaze. She was never going to forget doing exactly that when he’d taken that wine glass out of her hand. When they’d both known what was about to happen. Oh, help...
The wrench back to reality came like a physical slap.
Zac hadn’t felt like that. He’d had no lingering desire to spend more time with her. He’d rather leave the country and find an exciting war zone to be in and the last image she would ever have of him was the way he had been walking away from her with one hand in the air. Without looking back.
It was weird how you could have thoughts and such powerful emotions that could overpower your mind and your soul in the space of just a heartbeat or two. Olivia tuned back into what the person on the other end of the line was telling her, having only missed a few words.
‘...so we’ve started him on the standard triple treatment antibiotics for peptic ulcer disease, which was confirmed with the biopsy taken during the endoscopy. And he’ll need to take proton pump inhibiters to reduce stomach acid but I would expect that he’ll go to a ward by tomorrow morning and we’re talking about transferring him back to Cutler’s Creek hospital for a recuperation period by the end of the week. Now...would you like to talk to him? Or your grandmother, perhaps? I can give them this phone. Your grandmother’s been telling me that you were the one to do the anaesthetic for Don. She’s very proud of you.’
‘Oh...?’ That lump was back again at the thought of someone being genuinely proud of her. Someone who had called her “darling” as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. ‘I can’t at the moment because I’ve got a patient waiting but I’ll call again as soon as I can.’
* * *
‘That’s not a small cliff.’
‘Don’t worry, Zac. We’re not about to let you fall.’ Ben was grinning. ‘Let’s have a look at that Prusik knot you’ve tied and see if you remembered how to do it.’
‘Bit easier doing it at home in front of the fire than out here with half-frozen fingers.’
‘Looks good, though.’ It was Mike, the fireman, who checked Zac’s knot-tying. ‘Okay...put a loop of your rope through the belay plate and then into the carabiner and screw it shut.’
Zac followed instructions and soon had both the rope and the Prusik loop attached to his harness.
‘Check to make sure the loop grabs the rope if you let go. And remember to always keep your hand on the rope in front of the loop. Okay...you’re good to go. Climb over the edge but don’t weight the rope until you’re holding onto it.’
Zac had done this before but not on a cliff anywhere near as rugged or high as this one. He was determined to learn to abseil well, though. He didn’t want to have to wait until others could bring an injured climber up to him on a rescue mission. He wanted to get down the cliff and start treating them so that by the time they got the stretcher to the top, they wouldn’t be wasting any more time in evacuating someone.
Not that it should still be a priority, mind you. It was several days since Zac had made the decision to move on from Cutler’s Creek and it was unlikely that he would find himself a mountain rescue team to join in whatever part of the planet he landed in next.
It was also several days since Olivia Donaldson had gone back to her real life so he shouldn’t even be thinking about her any
more. Thinking that maybe she’d be into something as physical as this mountain rescue or abseiling, judging by the way she’d clambered around that crashed plane, determined to do whatever it took to save that pilot. Who wouldn’t have been impressed by that?
‘Adjust your harness if you need to,’ Ben said. ‘You want to make sure it’s comfortable before you start the descent.’
Being about to trust his life to some ropes and belay devices should have been enough to focus Zac’s thoughts completely on what he was doing at this moment but, somehow, moving his legs to feel how the straps of his harness were gripping the top of his thighs sent his mind fleetingly in another direction that also involved Olivia, and he gave his head a slight shake to get rid of the unwanted distraction. That it was so annoying to have intrusive thoughts like this was a reminder of just how much a couple of days with Olivia had unsettled him, and the amount of effort it was taking to gain control back.
‘I’m good to go.’ He had his feet wide apart and was leaning back into the harness. Getting safely down this cliff was only the first part of this training exercise. There were other members of the team who were already at the bottom, along with a stretcher and a mannequin that represented the injured climber they were going to have to get back up the cliff and then carry down to their transport vehicle, which was a good hike away.
By the time the group of men were on the track leading back to where they’d parked, they were all a little weary and ready to enjoy the aftermath of a very physical session.
‘So who’s coming to the pub for a beer after this, then?’
‘I’ll come to the pub,’ Zac said. ‘But it’s no beer for me at the moment, being the only doctor in these parts.’
‘When’s Don getting home?’ Bruce was in front of Zac.
‘Tomorrow. He’s done really well.’
‘He’s lucky to be alive,’ Ben said. ‘Wouldn’t be if you hadn’t been there.’
‘It wasn’t just me.’ Zac adjusted his grip on the handle of the plastic stretcher they were carrying, which was loaded with both the mannequin and all their climbing gear. ‘It was a team effort.’
‘Yeah...’ Mike sounded thoughtful. ‘Not just for Doc Donaldson, either. My Shayna was pretty lucky that there happened to be a plastic surgeon in town that day.’
Ben threw a grin over his shoulder. ‘Not the only lucky one, from what I’ve heard. She stayed with you the night before, didn’t she, Zac?’
Zac shook his head. ‘Who told you that?’
‘Not me,’ Bruce said.
‘Could have been Debbie,’ Mike suggested. ‘Or my missus. She put two and two together when Shayna was telling her all about how Doc Donaldson’s daughter delivered that foal of yours on the morning of the storm.’
‘Not my foal,’ Zac muttered. ‘I’m just babysitting till Steve gets back from his mid-life crisis world cruise.’
‘He’s not coming back, didn’t you hear? He’s fallen head over heels for someone he met on the cruise and he’s planning to sell up and go and live in...where was it, Bruce?’
‘Can’t remember. Iceland?’
‘Nah... I think it was England. Hey, maybe you want to buy the place, Doc.’
‘I never own property,’ Zac told them.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I never stay in one place that long. I get itchy feet after a year or so.’
A silence fell amongst the group. They all knew how long he’d been in Cutler’s Creek and that meant they were all acknowledging that Zac might not be here for much longer, but no one wanted to say anything aloud, including Zac. He was one of them now. How could he tell them that he had to go somewhere else because he liked being with them too much? That he couldn’t allow himself to get too attached to people. Or places. And especially not to any particular person, no matter how profoundly they might have disrupted his world.
It was Mike who finally broke the silence, as they slowed to negotiate a steep part of the track.
‘I hope Don will be on his feet well enough for his mum’s party. Sounds like it’s going to be a right knees-up. My missus is in the Women’s Institute and they’re doing the catering.’
‘I helped shift about a hundred hay bales into the old McDrury barn last weekend,’ Ben added. ‘They’d started some of the decorations and it looked awesome.’
‘I’ve heard they’ve got the best bluegrass band in the South Island, too,’ Bruce put in. ‘Three fiddles and a caller. People are going to be dancing all night.’
‘Mabel will be, that’s for sure.’
‘I have no idea what to wear,’ Bruce said, as their laughter faded. ‘Why the heck is it a fifties theme, anyway?’
‘I guess that’s the era when Mabel was a young woman and out on the town.’
‘It’s all right for the women to want to dress up but there’s nothing for blokes.’
‘Oh, I dunno.’ Zac was enjoying this distraction.
‘Think James Dean or the Fonz. You know, jeans and white T-shirts and a black leather jacket.’
‘You’re sorted then,’ Ben said. ‘You’ve got the jacket.’
‘And then there’s the gangster look with braces and one of those hats.’
‘Reckon I’ve got a pair of braces somewhere.’ Bruce sounded happier. ‘In a box of my dad’s stuff.’
‘She’ll have to come back for that, won’t she?’
‘Who?’ But Zac knew exactly who they were talking about and his enjoyment of the conversation evaporated instantly.
‘Doc Donaldson’s daughter.’
‘Nah.’ They were back at the parking area now and he helped slide the stretcher onto the back of the ute. ‘She didn’t bother taking her invitation with her.’
He’d found it that day, on the bedside table in the procedures room, minutes after she’d driven away from Cutler’s Creek. And he’d felt guilty about that. He was the one who’d pushed her away, wasn’t he? Had he pushed so hard she wasn’t even going to consider coming back to her grandmother’s birthday party?
‘So I don’t think she wants to come back,’ he added. Not while he was in town, anyway.
Bruce slammed the tailgate of the ute shut. He slapped his hand on Zac’s shoulder as he walked past to get into the driver’s seat.
‘Maybe you should post it to her,’ he said quietly. ‘Could be that she left it behind by mistake.’
* * *
‘Olivia?’
‘Yes?’ Olivia paused as she walked through the reception area of the Plastic Surgery Institute.
‘There’s mail for you. A really odd-looking letter.’
‘Oh?’
Olivia knew what it was as soon as the embossed envelope was held out to her but she was puzzled about its arrival here at work. During one of her phone conversations with her father in the last few days she had promised to try and come to the party, but who had posted this invitation that she’d left behind at Cutler’s Creek Hospital?
Someone who had found it and wanted to make sure she didn’t forget the date? Zac...?
She didn’t open it until she was in the privacy of her consulting room with some time to spare before Peggy Eglington arrived for another appointment to discuss the surgery she was still determined to have.
There was nothing to suggest that it had been Zac who had forwarded the invitation but he was still on her mind as Olivia smiled at the photograph on the front of the card—a woman wearing a polka-dot dress with a circular skirt and cap sleeves, with a big bow on a sweetheart neckline. Quintessential fifties style. The woman was dancing and the skirt was as wide as the smile on her face.
Olivia peered more closely at the image. Was that her grandmother? Kicking up her heels way back when she had been just a young woman? Opening the card confirmed her guess.
Mabel’s never stopped dancing!
Come a
nd join us to celebrate her 90th year of making the most of life.
Classic night of fun
to be held in the McDrury barn
See you there...
It was something on the other side of the card’s interior that caught her gaze then. A personal note that had been written beneath a small photograph held in place by a piece of tape.
The note wasn’t from Zac. Of course it wasn’t, Olivia growled at herself. Why on earth had she thought it might be? Mabel had written it.
I borrowed this from the frame on your dad’s bedside table. Maybe you can return it when you come to my party?
It was another picture of Olivia. She’d been a bit older when this one had been taken. Almost eight—just before her world had fallen apart when her father had disappeared from her life. It had been taken at her boarding school and she could remember the moment with absolute clarity, possibly because it was her favourite photo ever and she had exactly the same one in a small heart-shaped silver frame on her own bedside table.
It had been taken in the stables at her boarding school at the end of a weekend show-jumping event and both Olivia and Koko had been exhausted. The first-place ribbon had been discarded in a puddle of red silk on the straw in the corner of the stable. Koko was also on the straw, half–asleep, and Olivia had curled up between his legs, her arms just reaching around his neck and her cheek pressed against his shoulder. She had filthy jodhpurs, mucky boots and bits of straw in her hair, but to her it was an image of the happiest moment in her life. She only had to look at the photo to remember the warmth of being so close to another living being that she loved so much. The feeling of being in the only place in the world that she wanted to be.
Melting the Trauma Doc's Heart Page 13
