Flying Doctors

by Fiona Lowe

  The water tasted cold and sweet and she gulped it down. ‘Thanks. You’d make a good nurse.’

  He sat down on the bed facing her, his eye’s twinkling. ‘I learned from the best.’

  Her lips curved upwards. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’

  He grinned. ‘That’s the plan.’

  She wriggled her fingers of her left hand just to test they worked. Relief filled her. ‘I don’t really remember too much after you put me in the truck.’

  Flynn picked up her uninjured hand, gently stroking her fingers. ‘After I got you back to the clinic you started to hyperventilate, which is pretty understandable after what you’d just been through. I gave you some diazepam to calm you down and that helped slow down your bleeding.’

  ‘Sorry.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘I don’t remember flipping out.’

  ‘That’s OK. It’s all part of the job.’ His eyes stared into hers, their hazel depths brimming with care and affection. ‘The air ambulance arrived and you were pretty drowsy on the flight. Simon Peters, the plastic surgeon, met us in A and E and you went straight to Theatre.’

  She stared up at her arm, which was swathed in layers and layers of white gauze bandage. She couldn’t remember anything about going to Theatre. ‘How’s my circulation?’

  Flynn reached over and touched the fingers on her injured arm. ‘Toasty warm and pink, so I’d say your circulation is perfect.’ He pulled her chart off the end of the bed and passed it to her. ‘See for yourself.

  ‘The staff checked it all night and there haven’t been any concerns. Simon said the repair went well and he doesn’t anticipate any problems. You have about three hundred tiny stitches but no skin grafts were required.’

  He pointed to the drug order. ‘The biggest worry is the risk of a Pseudomonas infection from the water or the teeth so you’re on strong antibiotics, which might make you feel a bit nauseous.’

  Her stomach rolled. ‘I think that’s already happening.’

  He tilted his head thoughtfully. ‘You might be hungry. It’s been a long time since you ate.’

  She grimaced. ‘Oh, great, a week of hospital food. I can’t wait.’

  ‘Well, I’ve got some news that might make you smile.’ Again his gaze rested on hers, his eyes shining with a light she’d not seen before. It puzzled her because she thought she knew his every look and expression.

  ‘Simon is happy to discharge you into my care tomorrow morning. I’ve got us a suite at The Gardens, overlooking the harbour where we can spend the week before you have your post-op appointment with Simon in his rooms. You can relax, read and enjoy some pampering.’

  His unexpected words stunned her. ‘But what about work? Kirra needs their doctor.’

  He smiled down at her indulgently, as if she was an innocent child who didn’t understand how the world worked. ‘I’ve organised to take some annual leave and Northern Territory Health has sent in two relievers to cover for both of us.’

  She couldn’t stop herself from frowning, which was crazy because she should be happy. She should be thrilled that he wanted to do this for her but something inside her rebelled against his words. She didn’t understand the feeling but it forced her to speak. ‘But you don’t want to lose a week of your annual leave looking after me. You should be saving that for going south for a real break because this will be like a busman’s holiday. I’ll be fine here, truly.’

  The crinkly smile lines around his eyes smoothed. ‘I’m not going to leave you here alone for a week.’ He raised her right hand to his mouth, and pressed his lips against her fingers. ‘In fact, I’m not planning on ever leaving you.’

  I promise that you and I are going to have a long life and grow old together.

  Her breath swooped out of her lungs as her memory flooded back. Yesterday at the clinic. His tenderness. The words he’d spoken that had told her that he loved her.

  And now he’d just told her again.

  Flynn loved her.

  And she loved him with every part of her.

  A silent cry ripped through her. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. It was supposed to have been an affair. He was supposed to get over Brooke with her and then meet someone, fall in love and head off to have a long and happy life with a household full of children.

  He shouldn’t love her. She couldn’t give him those things.

  He couldn’t love her, she wouldn’t let him.

  Flynn wasn’t like Steven and when he found out about the frontotemporal dementia he would not abandon her. He would insist on staying and caring for her. But he deserved so much more than being tied down, watching her disappear behind the wall of dementia until she was mute and a wasted shadow of herself.

  She’d always known one of them would leave the affair first. Today she knew it would be her.

  * * *

  Flynn had showered, shaved and rung the ward. Twice. The first time he’d been told Mia was in the shower, and the second time that Simon Peters was talking to her.

  He ached to see her but he’d given up pacing and waiting. Instead he’d gone shopping to fill in the time until eleven a.m. He’d loaded the fridge with fresh fruit, vegetables, gourmet cheeses and bakery-fresh bread, the likes of which Kirra had never seen. He’d bought flowers, chocolates and six magazines because he had no idea which ones Mia would enjoy the most, and he’d also purchased a best-selling novel that the woman in the bookshop had recommended.

  On the way back from the bookshop he’d passed a jewellery store. Usually the sight of sparkling diamonds and gold chains was enough to force him to cross the street, but today he’d found himself studying rings and wondering what type of engagement ring Mia would want. He could picture an emerald, diamond and sapphire combination, which depicted the colours of Kirra, the place they had met.

  After everything he’d been through with Brooke he’d never expected to want to propose again or marry anyone, but Mia had altered that. Mia, with her zest for life, her teasing smile and understanding ways, had come into his life and changed it for ever. And yesterday, when he’d come so close to losing her, he’d known right there and then he was never letting her go.

  When he picked up Mia from hospital at eleven o’clock, that signalled the start of their new life together. He couldn’t wait. He glanced at his watch and grabbed his keys. His heart kicked up a beat. It was time to go.

  Ten minutes later he stepped out of the lift into the ward. Surgical wards were busy places on weekday mornings. White-coated residents strode purposefully, conducting ward rounds and pre-theatre examinations. Porters negotiated trolleys through narrow doorways and cheerfully greeted anxious patients with a joke and a smile, and nursing staff walked as quickly as they could, stopping just short of breaking into a run as they administered pre-medications, attended to wound care, and listened to patients’ fears and concerns.

  Flynn made his way down the long corridor, dodging all the action of the morning, and smiled at he passed a couple making their way slowly down the ward. The man held an overnight bag and flowers in one hand and his other hand rested gently on the seated woman’s shoulder as a nurse pushed her wheelchair toward the lift. The relief and joy on their faces was clear for all to see. The hospital stay was behind them and they were going home.

  That would be him and Mia in five minutes. He walked toward the door of the private room where he’d kissed Mia goodnight the previous evening. He pushed down the large, metal doorhandle and as he opened the door he joked, ‘I’ve come to take you away, yah, ha!’

  ‘You can take me anywhere you like, handsome.’ An elderly woman with a blue rinse and a crocheted bed-jacket sat up in bed and gave him a toothless grin.

  Flynn stopped abruptly, completely stunned. ‘You’re not Mia.’

  ‘Sweet boy, if I was fifty years younger I bet I could be.’ The woman chuckled. ‘So who’s this Mia I’m in competition with?’

  He found himself grinning a wide, crazy smile. ‘I hope by this afternoon she’ll be my fianc
ée.’

  ‘Ah, young love! She’s a lucky girl.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He smiled his ‘doctor smile’, the one he used for flirty, elderly women. ‘But if I were a free man, things would be different.’

  ‘Oh, get on with you. Off you go and find your girl.’ She lifted her arm and shooed him away.

  Flynn hurried to the nurses’ station to ask which room Mia was in, but found it deserted, with the phone ringing. He peered at the patient board but couldn’t see Mia’s name.

  Bridgette, the unit nurse manager, rushed past and smiled in recognition as she reached for the phone. ‘Morning, Doc, did Mia forget something?’

  Forget something? He had no idea what she was talking about. He drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited impatiently for the nurse to finish her call. He’d wanted to be walking out the door with Mia right about now.

  The moment Bridgette hung up the phone he spoke. ‘Which room have you moved Mia to?’

  ‘Moved her to?’ Genuine bewilderment crossed the nurse’s freckled face. ‘But she left half an hour ago with you.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, she didn’t. I just arrived to collect her.’

  Two frown lines creased between her eyes. ‘But when I gave Mia her discharge medications she told me that you’d gone to hail a taxi to bring it around to the front entrance.’

  Why would she have said that? Had she been so keen to leave the ward and the hospital that she’d thought she’d wait for him downstairs even though she’d known he was coming at eleven? He’d walked right through the uncrowded entrance and he would have seen her if she’d been waiting for him there.

  A vision of Mia collapsed somewhere in the hospital thundered through him. ‘You didn’t let her leave the hospital unescorted, did you?’ The words shot out accusingly.

  Bridgette visibly bristled. ‘No, Doctor, I most certainly did not. We followed protocol to a T. Simon Peters had just finished his discharge examination and as he was heading downstairs anyway, he offered to escort her to you and the car.’

  ‘Then where the hell is she?’ His voice started to rise as a sliver of dread crawled through him. ‘What did she write on the discharge form?’

  Bridgette pulled the history from the pile. ‘“The Gardens.” Ooh, nice place.’

  Thoughts jumbled in his head. None of this was making sense. ‘Get Simon Peters on the ward phone and ask him where he left Mia.’ He flipped open his own phone and rang the reception of The Gardens. Mia hadn’t checked in. No one answered the phone in their room. Finally, he slapped his phone shut.

  ‘Simon’s on the line.’ Bridgette held out the ward phone’s handset to Flynn, apprehension stark on her face.

  He almost snatched it from her hand. ‘Simon, Flynn Harrington.’

  ‘Flynn, mate, everything all right? Have you got the gorgeous Mia resting in a cocoon of luxury?’ The plastic surgeon’s bonhomie boomed down the line.

  Flynn breathed in deeply, trying to keep his voice calm. ‘Actually, that’s what I’m ringing about. I’ve come to collect Mia and she isn’t here. Bridgette said you took her downstairs to meet me, but at that point I hadn’t even arrived. Into whose care did you leave her?’

  ‘I thought I was leaving her with you.’ There was a slight hesitation before Simon continued. ‘As we arrived at the front entrance I got a page to return to the ward. Mia told me she could see a taxi coming and it was probably you. She insisted I go back upstairs to see the patient. Are you sure she isn’t at The Gardens?’

  Flynn ran his hand through his hair. ‘I’ve checked and she’s not there.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Flynn.’ Genuine regret sounded in his voice. ‘She didn’t give me any indication that she was going anywhere other than to The Gardens with you.’

  Flynn rang off, the sliver of dread expanding into a chasm. ‘She’s got into a taxi and disappeared into thin air. Hell, she could be unconscious somewhere.’

  Bridgette shook her head. ‘In the unlikely event that she collapsed in a taxi between here and The Gardens, the driver would have brought her straight back. Ring them again. You might have just crossed paths and by now she’s ensconced on the bed, resting.’

  He wanted so much to believe Bridgette but most of him kept asking, Why didn’t she wait for me? He redialled the hotel and asked Reception to go and check if Mia was in the room. He paced back and forth, waiting on hold until he was told the room was vacant. He rang off. ‘She’s not there.’

  ‘Oh.’ The small word was spoken slowly and was loaded with meaning.

  Ignoring her, he grabbed a pen and scrawled his mobile number on a piece of paper, agitation making the numbers blur. He shoved it at Bridgette. ‘If she contacts the ward, ring me on my mobile straight away. I’m going to go the police.’

  ‘Flynn, she’s not missing.’

  ‘Yes, she is!’

  The unit manager jumped at his yell but held her ground. ‘I know you’re upset but…’ She reached out and put her hand gently onto his forearm. ‘Can you think of any reason why she didn’t want to go to The Gardens with you?’

  Didn’t want to go with you.

  His blood instantly drained to his feet as the roar of organ music swelled in his head. Music that had played for over an hour while he’d waited for a bride that had never shown. Music that had played in a shopping centre while he’d waited for his mother who had never appeared.

  Mia wasn’t missing. With no note and with no warning, Mia had gone.

  He threw off Bridgette’s hand, spun on his heel and almost ran from the ward. His feet took him into the lift, out across the entrance with its decorated floor, and into the steaming humidity. He passed the taxi rank without stopping, barely noticing the tropical palms and attractive gardens. He kept walking, not caring where he was going as long as he was moving.

  He saw a juice container in the gutter and with a bellow he swung his leg back and then brought it forward, kicking the bottle hard, relishing the release it gave him. A woman walking along the footpath quickly grabbed her pre-schooler’s hand and crossed the road.

  He turned into a park and took a long drink from a water fountain then slumped onto a bench, sweat pouring down his neck. He rested his head in his hands, catching his breath.

  How had he been so stupid? Why had he let down his guard?

  He knew better. Hell, for two years he’d avoided relationships for good reason. Women left him. It was what they did. First his mother, then Brooke. And now Mia had abandoned him.

  He knew better than to trust a woman. They took his love and then they walked away, trampling his heart with their receding footsteps. Every single time.

  How had he let a pair of amazing blue eyes, long blonde hair and the tantalising scent of Mia derail him?

  Because there is so much more to Mia than that.

  The thought burned into him, stilling his tumultuous and churning mind. He sat up, his hand gripping the edge of the bench, the sharp corner pressing into his palm. Mia couldn’t be compared to women like his mother and Brooke. She stood apart by a million miles.

  She didn’t have a selfish bone in her body. She put others ahead of herself all the time. She’d nursed her mother, she’d risked her life to save the little girl from the crocodile and had rushed to defend a woman in danger. She’d even taken on Joe despite it being another job on a never-ending list.

  He shook his head. If Mia had a fault it was that she cared too much. Care drove her every action, which was why she did crazy things like risking her life.

  Why had she gone? Why had she left him? He stood up and leaned over the water fountain, splashing his face with water, using the coolness to try and clear his head.

  Mia’s mud-streaked face wafted through his mind. I don’t expect you to marry me, I don’t expect or want anything from you.

  At the time lust had made him interpret those words as a gift. A woman who didn’t want commitment but had wanted him had seemed too good to be true. He’d taken the gift with open arms. But
why didn’t a beautiful woman want the love of a man? She’d told him that her broken relationship had been for the best and she hadn’t seemed distraught over it.

  Think. He racked his brain, trying to remember conversations and her exact words. She’d been so stressed and uptight when she’d arrived on Kirra but that was reasonable considering she’d just come out of a year of death, losing her mother and brother within months of each other. She was certainly no stranger to grief, having coped with her father dying when she was younger.

  I’m going to die. I know I’m going to die.

  Her frantic words from two days ago tore at him. He’d heard her and dismissed the words as the frenzied ramblings of someone having a panic attack. Did she really believe she was going to die? He tried to shrug away the irrational thought but it kept hammering at him. Was that why she risked her life without thought for her own safety?

  He started pacing again, needing the movement to think. Why did she think she was going to die? None of it made any sense. She was a healthy young woman with so much to offer. Sure, she had her own crazy little quirks, like writing down every little thing, but everyone has idiosyncrasies.

  Her voice spoke softly in his head. My mother died of dementia.

  He’d assumed her mother had been elderly but given that Mia was only twenty-six there was every possibility she’d been under the age of fifty.

  Steven didn’t want to marry into my family.

  My brother’s death is listed as a car accident.

  The words started to pound in his head as the memory of her eyes, totally blank and devoid of emotion after the crocodile attack, sucked the wind from his lungs.

  With devastating clarity all the ducks lined up. Mia thought she had memory loss and the start of dementia. Her brother had taken his own life from fear of it. It had to be the explanation.

  There are women out there who can make you happy. You need to get out there and meet them.