by Lucy Clark
Clara applauded her team as well, then waited for silence. ‘Let me state here and now that our patient today was a volunteer from the Melbourne Institute for Dramatic Arts and did a superb acting job. As a team, we were given a medical scenario to follow and we addressed each point in turn. The medications were not really injected into our volunteer and he is perfectly fit and healthy. We thank him for his part in the exercise.’
More clapping.
‘Today we were faced with an accident victim who had sustained a fractured right humerus, which is the bone above the elbow—’
She pointed to the areas on her own body as she listed them.
‘Also severe laceration to the left thigh, which involved damaged muscle tissue and a damaged femoral artery, and a minor concussion. But, more importantly, our patient had stopped breathing. After restoring the patient’s breathing, through chest compression and oxygen, we were able to stabilise the fractured femoral artery which, if left unattended, can cause a patient to bleed out. The right arm had minor bruises and abrasions, and upon examination it was surmised that the bone was probably broken in at least two places. When the patient was handed over to the paramedics, his breathing, blood pressure and pulse were all stable. His injuries were also stable.’
She paused for a breath, then delivered the point of why these emergency and trauma retrieval scenarios were being played out in the public arena.
‘Learning first aid is a valuable asset for each and every person to have. Please,’ she implored, ‘sign up for a course. The St John’s Ambulance and the Red Cross run courses on a regular basis throughout the year. And remember, if you were the person lying on the road in need of help, wouldn’t you like a passer-by to be trained in first aid so they could help you? Be that person. Be that passer-by who could potentially save someone else’s life. Sign up today. Thank you.’
She paused as another round of applause broke out.
‘Well done again, Dr Lewis,’ Dr Fielding reiterated. ‘Your team is well trained and your speech was delivered in layman’s terms. From checking the preliminary scores of the other adjudicators, I’d say you’re in the lead—and with only one more retrieval team to perform, you’re in with a good chance.’
‘Thank you, Dr Fielding.’
Clara shook the other woman’s hand and smiled. As she walked over to her team she glimpsed, out of the corner of her eye, a tall man with jet-black hair walking towards them.
Turning her head sharply in his direction, she recognised him immediately, and felt her heart skip a beat.
‘Virgil...’
His name was a disbelieving whisper on her lips. It had been almost six years since she’d last set eyes on him, and she had to admit that, from afar, he looked every bit as handsome as always.
He was wearing navy trousers, a white shirt with rolled up cuffs, a colourful tie and dark sunglasses. Clara didn’t need to be told what colour his eyes were. She’d looked into them too many times in the past and lost herself in their depths. Blue. The most compelling and hypnotic blue she’d ever seen.
Shaking the memory away, Clara clenched her jaw, trying to calm her increased heart-rate, needing to get her thoughts onto a more even keel. But her mouth was suddenly dry and a wave of repressed longing washed over her.
Yes, Virgil had broken her heart—but that was in the past. She’d moved on. She’d changed. She wasn’t the easy-going Clara of yesteryear. She was a strong, independent woman who had conquered the issues of her past—both emotionally and physically. Still, that didn’t mean she had to stick around and talk to people she didn’t want to.
‘Clara? Are you all right? You’ve gone pale.’
It was Tony who had spoken, and she looked at her colleague, staring at him blankly for a moment before her mind kicked back into gear.
She forced a smile. ‘I’m fine.’ She tucked a stray strand of hair back into the tight bun at the nape of her neck. ‘You know, I’m a little thirsty. Do you guys want to get a drink?’
‘Uh...I was going to hang around here for a bit,’ Tony replied, as he gazed across at some of the nurses who had been part of other teams.
‘Yeah, me too,’ Geoff added, following Tony’s gaze.
‘You’re both wolves in sheep’s clothing,’ she retorted good-naturedly.
‘And if we win this competition we’ll have a lot of those lovely nurses wanting us—not only for our sexy bodies,’ Tony continued, ‘but also for our brains.’
‘Exactly,’ Geoff replied. ‘We’re not just pretty faces.’
Clara shook her head at their antics. ‘Fair enough.’
It was good that she was working with men who could make her smile, and yet not feel physically attracted to them.
However, the man who had held her interest for far too many years was most definitely heading her way. When she risked a peek over her shoulder it was to find him bearing down on their location, his strides purposeful and direct.
‘Uh...well...I might go. Now. I might go now and get that drink. See you both later.’
‘You’re not going to wait around for the results?’ Geoff called, but she’d already started to walk away and didn’t want to stop to answer.
She needed to put as much distance between herself and Virgil Arterton as possible.
* * *
He had no idea where she’d disappeared to. One minute Clara had been chatting with the nurses in her retrieval team and the next she’d vanished. Virgil stopped in his tracks and looked around before going to speak to her team.
As one of the adjudicators, he’d known she was going to be here today, and had been hoping for an opportunity to talk to her. He hadn’t wanted to disturb her concentration before she and her team had performed their retrieval exercise, but as soon as it was over, Virgil had made a beeline for her.
He couldn’t believe how incredible she’d looked—performing her retrieval, giving her speech. He’d always been attracted to her—even when they’d just been friends throughout medical school—and then, after medical school, when they’d taken their relationship to the next level, he’d gone and ruined everything with his stupidity.
Years ago he’d tried to make contact, to ask her to forgive him, but he’d received no reply. Clearly Clara had been done with him. Now, though—now that he was back in Victoria—he wanted the chance to make things right between them. He wanted to beg her forgiveness, to ask her if it was too late for them to try again.
Although his life had taken several unexpected twists and turns throughout these past years, Virgil had finally figured out what it was he wanted out of life. He wanted Clara back, and he was determined to do everything he could to let her know he’d changed.
‘G’day. Dr Virgil Arterton.’ He removed his sunglasses and proffered his hand to the two nurses who had been working alongside Clara. ‘Well done on your retrieval procedures.’
‘Thanks, mate,’ Tony replied, noting the badge Virgil was wearing, which declared him to be one of the adjudicators for the retrieval team examinations.
‘Uh...I was looking for Clara...er...I mean Dr Lewis.’ Seeing the way Tony gave him a concerned look, Virgil added, ‘We went to medical school together. I just wanted to catch up and find out how she’s doing.’
He shifted his stance, hoping to seem casual as he made the enquiry.
Geoff glanced over his shoulder. ‘She was heading to the pub, I think. Said she was thirsty. And the closest place to get a drink is the pub on the corner.’
Virgil followed the direction Geoff was looking. ‘Thanks. I’ll see if I can catch her up.’
He slipped his sunglasses back into place and walked towards the pub. Had she rushed off because she’d seen him? If that was the case, it clearly meant she didn’t want to talk to him. He’d been a jerk all those years ago, full of his own arrogance, his own care
er, rather than focusing on what was really important in life. And of late, there hadn’t been a day that went by when he didn’t think about Clara in one way or another.
Sometimes he’d hear an old song on the radio, and it would take him back to when they’d been studying together for their final medical exams, music playing in the background as they’d tried to cram as much information into their brains as possible. Or he’d smell the scent of a greasy diner and remember when they were interns, finishing an excessively long shift at the hospital, and would go for a burger and chips.
Now that he’d returned to the hospital where they’d both once worked—Melbourne General Hospital—the memories came hard and fast. Even the street he was on right now was one he’d traversed with Clara in the past. The pub he was heading to was one where they would often have a drink with all their friends whenever they’d had time off.
When he entered the pub he removed his sunglasses, astonished to find the place as crowded as it had been all those years ago. Several of the people there were medics, either those who were competing in the retrieval examinations or those who had just finished their shift and needed a cold one. At any rate, the front bar of the old Australian pub was crowded.
Was Clara here? If she was, would she be happy to see him? He hoped so. Yes, their lives had gone along different paths for the last almost six years, but surely that was enough time for her to forgive and forget.
Virgil continued his way towards the bar, rationalising that if Clara wanted a drink that would be the place she’d go. As he politely nudged his way through the throng he saw her. She was standing at the bar, waiting impatiently to be served. He could tell she was impatient by the way she drummed her fingers on the counter—a habit it appeared she hadn’t conquered.
A smile touched his face at just how well he’d known this woman in the past. Would she let him get to know her again in the future?
Another woman was beside her, chatting away. Clara was feigning polite interest in between doing her best to attract the bartender’s attention. Virgil’s smile brightened and his heart filled with anticipation as he neared her location.
He made it to the bar and, as he was tall, drew the immediate attention of the bartender—the same bartender Clara had been trying to get to serve her.
‘G’day, mate, what can I get you?’ the bartender asked.
‘I’ll have a beer and...’ Virgil paused and glanced down into Clara’s upturned face.
At first, she looked annoyed that the bartender was serving someone else before her, but upon seeing just who he was serving she openly gaped in astonishment.
‘A lemon squash with a slice of lime?’
It had been her favourite refreshing drink on a hot day. Was he still right? He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for her to respond.
‘Actually, I’d like a cranberry juice with sparkling mineral water, please,’ she said, after giving Virgil a solid glare, then turned to smile at the bartender. She reached into her pocket for some money.
‘It’s on me,’ Virgil said. ‘It’s the least I can do.’
He was having a difficult time keeping his mind focused on trying to talk, as even just being this near to her again was causing a tightening in his gut. Nervousness? More than likely. He had a lot riding on this meeting and it wasn’t going at all the way he’d planned—probably because her fresh, floral scent was teasing at his senses, reviving even more memories of those intimate times they’d spent together.
Clara shrugged one shoulder, then returned her attention to the woman beside her. ‘Sorry, Helen. You were saying...?’
All her attention was on this Helen, which meant none of her attention was on him—or at least that was what she wanted him to think. But he could tell by the way she shifted her body, so there was half a centimetre more distance between them, that she was well aware of his presence.
Helen, however, had a different idea. She looked from Clara to Virgil, then down to Virgil’s adjudicator’s badge.
‘Virgil Arterton? As in the Virgil Arterton? The general surgeon who invented a new surgical method which has revolutionised invasive incision procedures?’
Virgil held Clara’s gaze for a split second longer before turning to look at Helen. ‘You’ve read my papers?’
‘Well, who wouldn’t?’ Helen asked rhetorically as she held her hand out towards him. ‘I’m Helen Simperton. I find your work to be incredibly insightful, as well as revolutionary.’
The bartender had finished making their drinks and, much to Virgil’s chagrin, Clara used the excuse of him being trapped by Helen’s raptures, to take her drink and leave the bar area.
‘What was it that first made you consider changing the usual way for incising a patient?’ Helen asked as Virgil watched Clara almost rush to the other side of the room.
A moment later she disappeared from sight as more people came in through the front doors.
Trying to appear outwardly calm, he sipped his drink and gave Helen brief answers to her questions. He needed to find Clara, to talk to her for more than half a second. It was clear from his reception that she wasn’t interested in talking to him, so if he didn’t go after her now he might not get another chance until it was too late.
If he were to walk into her consulting rooms at the Specialist Centre and announce that he was the newly appointed general surgeon, she might well resign on the spot—and he didn’t want that.
‘Will you excuse me, Helen? I need to catch up to Clara.’
Without waiting for Helen to ask another question, he picked up his drink and followed in the direction Clara had gone. He looked in one of the back rooms of the pub, but she wasn’t there. He checked another room off to the side. She wasn’t there either. Was she in the bathroom? He hovered momentarily outside of the door to the ladies’ room, but knew he couldn’t barge in there calling her name.
Virgil turned and headed back towards the main bar, and it was then that he spotted half a glass of what looked to be cranberry juice and mineral water sitting on a table near the door. Was it her drink?
He asked some of the people nearby about the drink’s owner, and their description matched Clara.
She’d left.
Putting his own drink on the table, Virgil stepped outside into the Melbourne heat. Slipping his sunglasses back into place, he glanced first one way and then the other, and finally spotted her. She was walking briskly down the street, back towards the retrieval teams. When she glanced over her shoulder and saw him standing there, she hastened her pace.
Clearly she was trying to avoid him as much as possible.
Virgil shook his head as he set off after her again, not surprised at her stubbornness. It had been one of those traits which had either endeared her to him, or frustrated him. Today it was the latter. No other woman had ever affected him the way Clara did. She could drive him crazy, make him laugh, and make his heart melt like butter, all within the space of a few minutes. The woman was an enigma, and he’d been captivated by her from the beginning.
With his long strides, he managed to catch up to her just as she was about to cross the road.
‘Clara. I need to speak to you. Please?’
She stopped. Sighing heavily, as though admitting defeat, she turned and stared up at him, lifting her arms wide before dropping them back to her sides.
‘What do you want, Virgil?’
Now that he was face to face with her—now that he wasn’t playing this game of cat and mouse—his mind went momentarily blank, as he stared into her upturned face. Good heavens, didn’t the woman have any idea just what she did to his insides? That defiant lift of her chin...the way her back and shoulders were rigid, as though preparing for a fight. The way small wisps of her hair escaped their bonds and floated around her face in the warm breeze. Gorgeous.
And her eyes, although glari
ng at him with distrust, were as hypnotic as ever. Why had he been so incredibly stupid in the past? How different their lives might have been if only he hadn’t been such a jerk.
‘Uh...’ He finally managed to stammer the sound, as he shifted his feet and tried to get his brain to work.
‘Uh...? You’ve just chased me around the streets of Melbourne to utter “uh”?’ She crossed her arms and angled her head to the side. ‘Are you sure it’s me you want to speak to, or rather a speech therapist?’
He couldn’t help but laugh at her sassiness. She’d always had a sharp wit. ‘Oh, Clara. Sweetheart, you haven’t changed.’
‘Don’t call me that.’
‘Sorry.’ It was then he realised he was wearing his sunglasses and quickly lifted them onto his head. ‘OK...’ He cleared his throat once again and met her gaze. ‘I’ve been chasing you because I need to tell you something.’
He paused for a second, and again her impatience got the better of her.
‘That you’re sorry for the way you treated me all those years ago?’
‘Well...there’s that—and I am deeply sorry—’ His words received an eye-roll from her. ‘But, more importantly, I wanted to let you know that I’ve returned to Melbourne.’
‘I can see that. You’re standing right in front of me,’ she retorted.
‘To live,’ he added.
There was a moment of silence between them as she processed his words. ‘You’ll be working at Melbourne General?’
‘Uh...no... Well...when I say I’ve returned to Melbourne, I mean I’m going to be living in Loggeen.’
‘What?’
‘And...working at Victory Hospital...and at the Specialist Centre.’
At his words, her expression changed from one of impatient annoyance to one of horrified disbelief. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head.
‘No, you’re not.’
‘Yes. I am. I start there in two weeks’ time.’
‘Then you can un-start. Get out of your contract. Take a different job. Anywhere. Anywhere but at my hospital and my specialist centre. No!’
