A Baby for the Flying Doctor (10 page)

BOOK: A Baby for the Flying Doctor
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They all worked together and finally the makeshift sling was in place. Gil was ready with a neck brace to slip it around Mary’s neck the instant he had access to her. Phemie had given Mary another dose of painkillers so her body wouldn’t go into shock with what was about to happen. Having Mary lucid and able to follow instructions was going to be extremely helpful during the transfer process.

It would all happen quickly and everyone needed to be in position and on high alert. Phemie prepared Mary, talking her through what would happen so there were hopefully no surprises.

‘I’m scared,’ Mary said, and a lump lodged itself in Phemie’s throat as she reached out and took Mary’s hand in hers.

‘I know you are. You have every right to be scared but also know we’re all here for you, to help you, to get you out. OK.’

‘I know.’

Phemie could tell the young woman was crying and she didn’t blame her. Tears welled in her own eyes and she quickly blinked them away. She needed to be ready, to be alert, to be completely focused.

‘Ready?’ Kirk asked Phemie.

‘Ready.’ She nodded. Gil, who was standing opposite Phemie, could see the struggle she’d just gone through and once again, as he watched her pull herself together, as she pushed away the personal and pulled on the professional, he marvelled at that inner strength she seemed to exude.

‘On three,’ Kirk announced. ‘One, two,
three
.’

It all happened so fast—the wreckage being shifted, the fire and police members pulling on the ropes to elevate Mary and then Gil and the paramedics transferring Mary to the waiting ambulance stretcher.

‘Phemie!’ Mary called, and Phemie was helped out of the car and over to the waiting ambulance. She climbed inside and reached for Mary’s hand.

‘There. You’re out. You’re ready to go. You’ve been amazing,’ Phemie encouraged.

‘I want you to call my parents and tell them about Anthony. Let them know that Daniel’s going to have a great life.’

Tears welled up in Phemie’s eyes at Mary’s words, their hands gripped tightly together. ‘I’ll call.’ Even now, Mary was thinking of others and Phemie couldn’t help but love this woman she barely knew. ‘You are a remarkable woman, Mary. You’re strong. Keep being strong.’

‘Thank you.’ Mary’s words were soft and silent tears slid down her dirty, blood-stained cheeks. ‘For being my lifeline.’

Too choked up to speak, Phemie smiled through her tears and then let go of Mary’s hand and exited the ambulance. She had no jurisdiction here. She was just a doctor who had happened to be passing by when the accident had happened and had stopped to lend a hand. She had no authority at the hospital, she didn’t know any of the surgeons who would operate on Mary, and the lack of control left her feeling bereft as the ambulance pulled away.

‘Are you all right?’ Gil asked from behind her, and it was then she became conscious of the warmth of his body.

‘No.’ The tears wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t control them and the instant Gil put a hand on her shoulder, Phemie turned and almost crumbled into his waiting arms, her tension being released through her heartfelt sobs.

No one chided her for letting her feelings come to the surface. No one seemed concerned that she’d let her emotions get the better of her. No one said anything as Gil simply held her whilst she cried. The crews continued with their work, cleaning up the debris so the entire three lanes could once more be open again to the thick city traffic.

Gil tightened his hold on her, wanting to keep her close, pleased he could be there for her when she needed him. Closing his eyes, he savoured the feel of her, the touch of her hair against
his cheek, the way that even after everything she’d just been through, her subtle sunshine scent still managed to drive him to distraction.

‘She’s not going to make it. I know. I can tell,’ she murmured against his chest, and tenderly Gil stroked her back.

‘We did everything we could. Now it’s up to the surgeons and Mary.’

Phemie pulled back, her tears starting to dry up as quickly as they’d come. ‘I’m sorry,’ she instantly apologised. So much for trying to keep her distance from Gil. Here she was, standing literally in the middle of the road in a strange city with the man’s arms firmly around her. Looking up into his eyes, she wasn’t sure what she expected to see. Would he be annoyed? The fact that his arms were still holding her should be evidence enough that he wasn’t annoyed. Maybe he was embarrassed, not only for himself but for her as well. Some professional she was, blubbering over a patient. Had he held her close because he’d wanted to hide her embarrassment? Confusion ripped through her and was followed closely by self-consciousness.

She splayed her hands against his chest, getting ready to ease back, but when she finally looked into his gorgeous brown eyes she faltered, her fingers becoming sensitised to the firm male torso beneath his cotton shirt. Her breath caught in her throat as she continued to stare up at him just as he was staring down at her.

‘We should probably think about heading off now,’ Gil murmured, his Adam’s apple working up and down as he swallowed. His voice was deep, personal and filled with repressed desire. It was strange. It was wrong but it was happening. Both of them knew it but neither wanted to accept it.

‘Yes.’ It was all the answer she was capable of giving because her mind was too busy controlling her need to stand on tiptoe to press her lips against his. The heat that suffused her at the thought did nothing to help with her resolve to keep her distance.

‘We should, uh…’

‘Go,’ Phemie finished, and it was another second before both of them seemed to drop their hands in unison. They quickly said goodbye to Kirk, who shook hands with Gil but then surprised Phemie by enveloping her in a hug.

‘Good work, Phemie. Nice to have met you. Might even come out to that outback place for a visit.’

Phemie smiled tiredly at him. ‘Didja is a sight to behold, Kirk. You’d be more than welcome.’

Gil couldn’t help the mild stirring of…was that jealousy? He pushed it aside but possessively put his arm around Phemie’s waist and guided her away from the crews back to where William had had their chauffeur park the car out of the way. He didn’t
do
jealousy.

When she was once more seated in the back of the car, Phemie leaned her head back on the soft head-rest and closed her eyes.

‘Are you feeling all right?’ Gil asked quietly.

‘Tired.’ She didn’t open her eyes and was sort of pleased when she felt his hand envelop her own. She knew she should have pulled away but the stress of being with Mary, of talking to her, of hearing Mary talk about her family and especially her brother…the whole situation was starting to catch up with her and Gil’s support was more than welcome at the moment. She knew that once they arrived at the hotel, Gil would need to keep his distance. After all, he was the professor and, as such, needed to conduct himself in a highly professional manner. For now, though, she would take whatever he was offering.

Just this once, she wanted to imagine her life would turn out differently. She wanted to pretend that Gil was hers—the man of her dreams, just as she would be the woman of his. They would be heading to a conference together, as husband and wife. He would speak, give his views on various topics, and a few days later they’d return to the outback where their gaggle of three girls and two boys awaited them. Five, beautiful, healthy children.

The children would run around in the large open spaces surrounding the RFDS base whilst she and Gil sat on the verandah, sipping cool drinks as night-time fell. She would look at Gil and he would look at her, both of them with love in their hearts.

Phemie sighed with longing and let her mind continue to drift as Gil and William talked softly, their words blurring around her. She was surprised when Gil gently called her name, urging her to rouse, as they’d finally arrived at their hotel.

‘What a journey,’ William remarked as he checked a few things off on his folder. ‘I thought we’d never get here.’

And now that they had, Phemie knew she had to let go of any sort of fantasy she might have entertained with regard to Gilbert Fitzwilliam. He was a stranger. Someone she’d met on a train. Someone who didn’t factor into her plans for the future. Not now. Not ever.

‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked tenderly.

‘Better.’ Phemie smothered a yawn. ‘I think I need to shower and change, though. No doubt that will improve the lethargy I’m currently experiencing.’

‘And don’t forget to give Anthony a call. He seems to live on pure energy. Maybe he can transmit some down the phone line.’

Phemie smiled tiredly at his words, realising he’d nailed Anthony on the head. Her brother was indeed always bright, always bubbly, always eager to see the good in absolutely everything. She wasn’t quite sure whether that was due to the Down’s syndrome or whether that was just Anthony’s natural personality shining through. She liked to think it was a mixture of both as Anthony wouldn’t be Anthony without the DS.

‘Yes. Good thinking.’

‘Then, perhaps later tonight, we could have dinner?’ Gil’s tone was polite yet intimate. ‘Nothing fancy but perhaps a bit better than train food.’

William clicked his pen and made another notation in his file. ‘I’ll arrange dinner for two just down the road. Not that you
dining together is any sort of secret, you understand, but I think it’s best to—’

‘Stop!’ Phemie closed her eyes for a moment then shook her head. She looked at Gil as she spoke. ‘I don’t want to go to dinner tonight. I’m tired. I’m grubby. I’m uncomfortable. I’ve spent too long on a train, stressing about my brother and not getting much sleep.’ The latter being all Gil’s fault as she hadn’t stopped thinking about him. ‘And now with this accident and Mary and…’ She trailed off and collected herself, calming her frantic tone.

‘Thank you for the invitation, Gil, but this time I’ll have to say, no, thanks. I think for the duration of the conference we need to keep everything strictly business. I’ll let you know what happens with the RFDS request after I’ve spoken to my boss but apart from that—’ Phemie held out her hand to him and tried not to gasp at the warmth that flooded through her as he slipped his hand into hers. ‘Uh…thank you for the lift, thank you for an interesting train journey and uh…I hope you enjoy the conference and any sightseeing you get to do while you’re in Sydney.’

The chauffeur had stopped the car and the hotel doorman was opening the passenger door. Gil didn’t let go of Phemie’s hand as he unbuckled both their seat belts, then climbed from the car, helping her out as he went.

He raised her hand gallantly to his lips and placed a sweet kiss on her skin. ‘I’ll have your luggage sent up to your room. Save you waiting around for it.’

‘Uh…thank you.’ Phemie tried not to blush, tried not to capitulate, tried not to throw herself into his arms and beg to have his mouth pressed to her lips rather than her hand. Why, when she was trying to keep things professional, when she was attempting to put some much-needed distance between them, did he go and do something like romantically kiss her hand? He was pure charm and when he aimed it in her direction, she was powerless to resist. However, she stilled the fluttering in her stomach
and ordered her knees to stand firm, rather than collapsing into a heap right in front of him.

He let her hand go and it fell lifelessly back to her side. She needed to move. She needed to get out of there. Strong resolve.
Strong resolve!
It was what she must continue building if she was going to be spending more time with Gil once the conference was over. Strong resolve.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I
T HAD
been an excessively long day and Phemie was pleased she’d followed through on her whim to soak in a bubble bath. To have that sort of luxury was rare in her life, especially as in the outback water was more precious than gold.

Afterwards, she’d slipped into her pyjamas and sat on the big comfortable bed, flicking through the television channels. She’d called Anthony as soon as she’d arrived in her room, knowing it would be nigh on impossible to truly relax unless she was sure her brother was all right.

He’d talked animatedly about his day and that he’d not only seen the Sydney Harbour Bridge but that their bus had driven across it. Next, they’d visited the Opera House and had had their photograph taken on the steps with the Opera House in the background.

Phemie felt a little jealous. He’d not only had a much better day than her but he’d seen some of the classic Sydney icons. The most she would get to see whilst she was there was probably the inside of this very hotel.

She continued changing channels with a despondent air until she found she was back at the beginning. ‘Hopeless,’ she murmured, and switched the television off. She should be tired. She should be utterly exhausted and she was, but at the moment she simply couldn’t seem to settle down. Sleep, it seemed, was going to evade her once more.

Picking up her mobile phone, she called through to the Didja RFDS base and managed to catch Ben just before he left for the day.

‘Don’t tell me you’re bored,’ he joked.

‘A little,’ she confessed to her friend. ‘But I’m also really tired.’

‘Then either go to sleep or go out and see a bit of the city. You’re going to be stuck in that hotel for the next three days so take the time to get out while you still can.’

‘You make it sound like an asylum.’

‘It’s a hotel. It’s a box. Give me wide open spaces and fresh air any day.’

Phemie sighed. ‘I know what you mean.’ She paused. ‘Also, while I have you on the phone, can you give me an update on Kiefer?’

‘Ah…I knew it. You rang to find out about a patient, rather than ringing because you’ve missed your ol’ mate.’

‘No. That’s not true at all. I miss you. All of you.’

‘Well, if you weren’t such a brilliant doctor who wrote such a brilliant paper, you wouldn’t have been chosen to present your findings along with all the other brilliant medics in the nation.’

‘You are so long-winded. An update, please?’

‘The reattachment operation went well, as you already know, and his post-operative recovery has been non-eventful.’

‘Good. I needed some good news.’

‘Bad day?’

Phemie was almost about to tell Ben about Mary and the car crash when there was a knock at her hotel door. ‘Hang on, Ben. Won’t be a moment.’ Phemie went to the door and checked through the peephole to see who was standing outside the door, expecting it to be someone who had gone to the wrong room.

‘Gil.’ His name was a whisper, her eyes widening in surprise. What did he want? She’d received her luggage, so what more could the man want? He was standing patiently, hands behind his back, waiting for her to open the door.

She was trying desperately to make sure there was a professional distance between them and he was making that increasingly difficult when he kept bumping into her or offering a lift or coming to her hotel room to see her. Didn’t the man understand she wasn’t interested in any sort of relationship with him? Well, obviously, she wanted to keep on reading his articles and following his research breakthroughs but that was it. They were both doctors. He was more qualified, more experienced, more everything than her.

Being near him, having him standing close to her, looking into his eyes, remembering how it felt to be in his arms, the subtle spicy scent he wore drove her to distraction every time he was beside her. It was all becoming too much to fight but fight it she must.

There was no room in her life to have these feelings, these growing emotions for a man she would never be able to be with. She’d chosen her path, made her decision never to get married and have children, and she would stick with it. Helping people was what she did best and she’d proven that today when she’d helped Mary. And then Gil had helped her by supporting her when she’d broken down and cried.

Now he was waiting for her to open the door. The sooner she did, the sooner she could find out what he wanted and the sooner she could send him on his way. She could simply stand there at the door, he didn’t even need to come into the room. Did he? No. He didn’t.

Resolution made, she reached out her hand, pleased to find it firm and steady, and opened the weighted hotel door.

‘Gil.’ She didn’t move out of the way, didn’t invite him in.

‘Euphemia.’ His smile was warm and polite but this time it didn’t meet his eyes. A niggling sensation started to rumble in her stomach as she stood there and watched him for another second.

‘I’m on the phone,’ she finally remarked when he didn’t say
anything more. Had he come all the way from the lofty heights of the suite he was staying in down to the fifth floor just to stand at her door and say her name?

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.’ Still he didn’t move or walk away. ‘May I come in?’

Why had he asked? She’d been doing such a good job of keeping her distance but now it would seem churlish to refuse. ‘Sure.’ Phemie moved aside, holding the door as he walked into her room. She lifted the mobile to her ear. ‘I’ll talk to you later, Ben. Bye.’ She disconnected the call.

‘I’m sorry to intrude, Phemie.’ He looked at her bright print pyjamas, only then realising she was dressed for bed. When she’d opened the door, he’d been so captured by her hair, which she’d recently washed, as it bounced around her shoulders, the blonde tendrils curling a little at the ends. Her skin was fresh and clear of all make-up, and she’d never looked more beautiful. Phemie’s beauty was natural, radiating from within, and he knew that was the main reason he was so captivated by her.

Still, he hadn’t come simply to stare. That would be truly dangerous, as staring at Phemie only led him to want to touch her, and if he touched her then he’d want to kiss her, and whilst he’d thought about that quite a bit in the past couple of days, wondering how it would feel with his mouth pressed to hers, he knew following through on that whim would be foolish as well as downright mean to both of them. They lived worlds apart—literally.

‘What do you want, Gil?’ She was tired and she wasn’t in the mood to play games, especially when it appeared he was just going to stand there, looking at her as though he was ready to devour her. She put her guard up, knowing she needed to keep a level head.

‘Uh…yes. Sorry. There is a specific reason why I’m intruding on your evening. I’m afraid I have some bad news.’

Phemie’s annoyance with him instantly disappeared and her
breathing paused for a moment as her mind sorted through the reasons why Gil would come to her room bearing bad news. It didn’t take too long to realise the answer. ‘Mary.’

‘Yes.’ Gil shoved his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching for her. The look on her face was one of resigned acceptance, as though she’d known the odds hadn’t been in Mary’s favour. There was pain there, concern and also a look of defeat. It couldn’t be the first patient she’d ever lost but he knew from experience that some people, despite how long you’d known them, could leave a lasting imprint on your life when they passed away. It appeared, for Phemie, Mary had been such a person.

‘When?’

‘The surgeon called me about ten minutes ago. She didn’t make it through the operation.’

Phemie looked blankly at the light-coloured curtains, which she’d pulled closed earlier. The room was decorated in bland nondescript colours and that was how she felt right now. Bland and nondescript.

Gil could do nothing except watch her and wait. There was pain in her eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes which had been so vibrant in the past were now dull as they stared unseeingly past him.

‘The surgeon called you?’

It hadn’t been what he’d expected her to say but as she met his gaze, Gil nodded and took a hand from his pocket to rub it across the side of his temple. ‘William tracked down the surgeon before he went into Theatre with Mary and told him I wanted to be kept informed of all progress.’

‘I guess the name Professor Fitzwilliam carries more weight than I thought.’

Gil shrugged, not apologising for who he was. ‘I knew you’d want to know, hence my intrusion.’ He nodded politely, inclining his head so it was almost a bow. ‘I’ll leave you to your
solitude now.’ With that, he headed for the door but stopped when he heard her voice.

‘I was probably the last person to just chat with Mary.’ Phemie breathed deeply, unevenly, as though she was trying to control her emotions. ‘It’s ridiculous really. I hardly knew the woman and yet she’s left a lasting impression on me. We talked. We chatted as though we were long-lost friends. There was no awkwardness. She was so open, so eager to tell me about her parents and Daniel. Two of her best friends had just died in that same crash and yet the way she spoke of them was with happiness and love.’

Phemie obviously needed to unwind, to say these things, to share Mary with someone else. Quietly, he walked back into the room and sat down, still keeping his distance. Being there to support her was one thing and he was more than happy to do that, but getting involved with her was quite out of the question.

She rubbed the back of her neck, massaging the area gently. ‘I was only doing my job. I was talking to Mary to keep her lucid, to ensure she stayed awake, and yet she was having the last real conversation of her life.’ Phemie swallowed over the sudden lump in her throat. ‘I’ve come to realise how wrong I’ve been.’

‘About?’

‘Anthony. Listening to Mary talk about Daniel and how they were good friends…’ Phemie stopped and shook her head. ‘I’ve always wanted that, you see. I love Anthony but at the same time I’ve always yearned to have a real sibling relationship. Brother and sister. Arguing. Laughing. Doing things together. I always felt cheated that I never had that and now Mary’s made me realise it’s my fault. I could have had that with Anthony if I’d only worked harder, seen him in a different light, not been so bothered about other “perfect” families and how they all interacted.’ Tears dropped from her lashes and slid slowly down her cheeks.

‘You are a
great
sister, Phemie,’ Gil said. ‘From what I heard
of your conversations with Mary, and I don’t want you to think I was eavesdropping, but her brother was much younger than her. That in itself makes a big difference. When you were telling her about Anthony, every time you mentioned his name, there was a deep, abiding love in your tone. You may not have had the relationship you
imagined
you wanted but you have a very solid relationship with him all the same. Sure, it may seem more like parent to child rather than sibling to sibling but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong or invalid. You shared yourself with Mary and I have to say, you’re quite a woman. Not everyone can do that. You were open with her, telling her about your brother, your parents and about yourself, how you’d been afraid to leave your job at Perth hospital to move to Didja but that you’re very glad you did. I heard you telling her how much you like helping people and that’s when she thanked you for being there to help her.’ Gil kept his words soft but firm, wanting to get cross to Phemie that she had not only listened to Mary, that she’d not only provided first-rate medical care, but that she’d also
given
that dying woman respect by treating her normally.

‘The last thing Mary needed whilst she was trapped was to panic. You kept her sane, made her feel as though she was strong enough to pull through it.’

‘But I knew she wasn’t.’ The words burst forth from Phemie like a rocket and she covered her face with her hands. ‘I knew she wasn’t going to make it. I just knew it yet I kept on giving her hope. False hope.’

‘You’re a doctor. You do what’s in the best interests of your patient.’

Phemie dropped her hands and walked to the tissues, yanking one out and blowing her nose loudly. Where was the man who had held her so tenderly that afternoon? The one who had put his big strong arms around her, making her feel safe and secure? Where was he now? She needed him. Instead, she appeared to
be faced with a doctor who was giving her clinical and logical answers about why she was so bereft at Mary’s passing.

‘Even lying to them in their last moments?’

‘Yes.’ Gil stood and strode towards her, clasping her arms with his hands. He wanted to give her a good shake but remained firm. ‘This wasn’t your fault. Mary’s death wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could and much, much more for her, and you need to accept that.’

‘What if I can’t?’ She looked up at him. The desire to feel his arms about her, rather than firmly holding her at a distance, was what she wanted more than anything right now. She knew it wasn’t right. She knew she shouldn’t want him as much as she did but, having felt his arms around her before, she wanted that sensation, that feeling of being protected, of being cared for, to envelop her and wash away the pain.

‘You have to. You’re a professional.’

His words seemed harsh and she didn’t want to hear them. ‘She was my friend.’

‘No. She was a patient. Someone who needed your help. She was a woman you met. A nice young woman who has had an impact on your life. You need to deal with it and move on.’

Phemie could feel her anger rising at his words. She was hurting, she was in pain and all he could do was spout platitudes about emotions he obviously knew nothing about. He may be a genius but it appeared he had no idea about feeling empathy for a person who had passed away. He was being cold and professional and the more he was like that, the angrier she became. She didn’t like his rationalised reasoning. She knew the psychology but it didn’t help the way she felt. She knew she needed to pull herself together, and she would—later—but right now she wanted to mourn for Mary and she’d foolishly hoped Gil would share her sentiments. Obviously, she’d been wrong.

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