A Baby for the Flying Doctor (9 page)

The travelling fellowship had seemed like a good idea. He could step outside his comfort zone whilst still remaining firmly in it. When you travelled, when you met new people every week, when you spoke in lecture theatre after lecture theatre on similar topics, you could still feel very alone.

That’s what had happened to him. It was why he’d initially been looking forward to ending the tour and going back to London, even if it was only to attempt to have some sort of normal life. That was before he’d met the enchanting Euphemia Grainger.

She’d made him feel alive as he hadn’t felt in years. She’d made him think about personal issues he’d wanted to leave boxed up in the far recesses of his mind. She’d made him realise he was become more attracted to her the more time they spent together.

Watching her now, watching the way she was empathising with their unknown patient, how she was as eager as he was to get in there and provide whatever medical care they could, it reminded him of himself. He had a need to be there for people, to give help, to solve problems. It appeared Phemie was cut from the same cloth.

‘Dr Grainger, is it?’ One of the firemen walked over to where she and Gil were standing, watching silently.

‘Phemie, meet Kirk.’ Gil quickly introduced them.

‘Phemie, we need someone short enough to slide into the car and assess the patient as best you can. All of us…’ Kirk indicated the police and fire staff ‘…are too tall.’

‘Wait.’ Gil held up his hand. ‘You want Phemie to do what?’ He wasn’t sure he liked what he was hearing. All his English sensibilities started to bristle. Phemie was more than capable to doing what was asked, he had no doubt about that, but why her? So she was small. Surely there were other people who could do it. He would even volunteer to wedge himself into the small space but from Phemie’s decisive look she was more than willing to do what was asked. His heart began to pound a concerned rhythm as he visualised her in that car.

‘When we’ve finished clearing the front seats, we’ll be needing someone, preferably with medical knowledge, to climb in and assess the patient. Dr Grainger seems the obvious choice. She’s small enough and qualified.’

‘That’s fine.’ Phemie nodded. ‘How much room will I have?’

‘You’ll be able to get your arm through, possibly…’ Kirk looked at Phemie’s small hands. ‘Both your hands.’

‘Good. I’ll go and talk to the paramedics and get set up.’

‘Excellent.’ Kirk headed back to his crew. As Phemie turned to head over to the ambulance, Gil reached out and stopped her.

‘You can’t climb into that car. It’s not safe.’ He left his hand on her arm, the warmth of his touch causing her body to flood with tingles.

‘It’s all right, Gil. It’s not like I haven’t done things like this before.’

‘What?’ His tone was incredulous. ‘Are you completely insane? You’re willingly and knowingly putting yourself in danger.’ As he spoke the words, wanting desperately to change her mind, he also knew he had no right to ask, yet his protective urge towards her only seemed to be intensifying the more time they spent together.

It was insane. This wasn’t like him at all. He knew Kirk had been right to ask Phemie. She had all the qualifications and she was small enough to fit into the space. He was also sure that if Kirk hadn’t asked, Phemie would have volunteered. Still, the
thought of Phemie climbing into that highly unstable vehicle made his stomach churn and his head whirl. But why?

‘I’m helping someone in need and it’s not
really
dangerous.’ Why was he so concerned about this? He seemed almost adamant that she not be involved in this situation. Providing initial medical care was all well and good but when it turned serious, did Gil really expect her to pull back? ‘I mean, I’m surrounded by emergency crew members who know what they’re doing, the area has been doused with foam so there’s little chance of the vehicle catching fire and, honestly, Gil, it’s not the worst situation I’ve been in.’

Gil continued to hold her arm, not wanting to let her go. He took another step forward and then, to her surprise, placed his free hand on her cheek, caressing the soft skin there. Phemie froze, unable to move, unable to breathe, his soft, sweet touch creating havoc with her senses.

‘I’ve seen how you work under pressure, Phemie. You’re incredible. I’m not saying you’re not capable of doing the work, just that…’ He exhaled slowly and swallowed, his Adam’s apple working up and down his magnificent throat. ‘Be careful. Please. For me. Take extra care.’

Phemie was slightly puzzled at his soft, tender words, not sure why someone she hardly knew that well was so concerned for her well-being. Perhaps it was because he knew how much she was needed, especially after he’d met Anthony. Yes. That had to be it. Gil was merely showing this much concern because he was worried about Anthony. It was the only explanation she could come up with.

‘I promise,’ she remarked and tried not to nestle her cheek further into his palm. To feel him touching her like that, to be the recipient of such a caress, it made her mind jump all over the place and the last thing she needed right now was to lose her focus.

With strength she hadn’t known she possessed, Phemie forced
herself to step back, breaking all contact between them. Resolutely she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. ‘I need to focus.’

‘Of course.’ Gil also took a step back instantly berating himself for having shown her how much he’d come to care for her in such a short time. ‘Do what you need to do.’

With a brief nod, Phemie walked over to the ambulance, trying to push the memory of his touch into the far recesses of her mind. Gil had touched her before, he’d held her firmly in his arms and been so close, they could easily have kissed. This time, though, his concern had been more personal rather than simply physical. It was dangerous.

G
IL
watched as Phemie was helped into the front passenger section of the car the fire crews had cleared. She crammed herself into place and was able to reach through a small gap to insert an IV line and check on the patient.

As she’d finished, the patient started to stir and Phemie managed to ascertain the woman’s name was Mary and that she was twenty-one. Gil handed Phemie a syringe of analgesics, which she administered intravenously.

Apart from that, there wasn’t much for Phemie to do except to stay in her cramped position whilst the crews continued their methodical removal of metal. Every ten minutes Phemie would listen to Mary’s chest, managing to fit the stethoscope through the opening and then twisting around so her arm was almost fully extended in order to reach properly.

Gil was able to keep a close watch on the IV line, which was hanging on a makeshift rig above Phemie.

‘How does it sound?’ Mary asked, as Phemie carefully drew her arm back from listening to the heart.

‘Like a heart should sound,’ Phemie replied, a smile in her voice as she unhooked the instrument from her ears. ‘So, you said you have a brother? Older or younger?’ It was important for her to talk to Mary, to keep her as calm as possible whilst the extraction team worked all around her.

‘Younger. He’s only just turned thirteen.’

‘Eight years. That’s quite a gap. Any other siblings?’

‘No. My parents had a lot of trouble conceiving. My mum was forty-two when she had Daniel.’

Phemie’s neck began to prickle. ‘That’s rather late.’ She hedged carefully, knowing full well that women who had babies later in life were more likely to have children with birth defects. ‘Were there any problems with the baby? I mean, your brother is he…?’ She paused, trying to think of a diplomatic way to ask without upsetting Mary.

‘Daniel’s gorgeous. Then again, I’m a little biased, although when people first meet him, they’re a bit shocked to find he has Down’s syndrome. I just don’t see it any more. He’s just…Daniel.’

Phemie nodded, even though Mary couldn’t see her. It was what she’d been expecting Mary to say and in that moment she felt an instant connection with her patient. They were both older sisters to younger brothers with Down’s. Mary would know exactly how Phemie felt about things without the need to explain or expand. The frustration, the guilt, the utter devotion. ‘My brother has Down’s, too,’ she confessed.

‘Really?’ Mary sounded almost excited. ‘Isn’t that a strange coincidence. What’s his name?’

‘Anthony. He’s four years younger than me.’

‘So he’s a grown up?’

‘He is.’

‘That’s fantastic. What’s he like?’

Phemie smiled as she talked of Anthony, pleased she’d found a topic that would keep her patient’s mind occupied.

‘I’ve often wondered what the future will hold for Daniel. Some people can be cruel and he’s just so friendly to everyone he meets.’

Didn’t she know that all too well. ‘It’s part of their nature,’ Phemie murmured, thinking of all the times she and her parents
had tried to instil the lesson of ‘stranger danger’ into Anthony. ‘I think people are often afraid of what they don’t understand.’

‘They let their own ignorance blind them.’

‘Exactly.’ Phemie shook her head and smiled. ‘It’s so nice to talk to someone who really understands.’

‘Me too.’ There was a smile in Mary’s voice. ‘I used to love helping my mother look after him when he was little, and now that he’s a teenager I guess I still worry about him. I love taking him out, going to the movies or out for pizza—that’s his favourite food. We’re really good friends even though there’s such a huge age difference.’

‘Friends?’ Phemie was filled with envy. From the way Mary was talking, it was clear she’d had a
sibling
relationship with her brother, rather than being another carer, and that close brothersister thing was what Phemie had always wanted.

‘Sure. I guess I was so happy to finally have a baby brother that I’ve been a little possessive of him.’

‘You spend a lot of time with him?’ Phemie closed her eyes, not only feeling sick because she wasn’t one hundred per cent sure Mary would be able to spend much time with him in the future but also feeling guilty that she’d never voluntarily spent time with Anthony. The times she’d taken him out had all been because she’d felt obliged to help her parents. Even though there was a bigger age difference between Mary and her brother than between herself and Anthony, it was the feelings in the heart that mattered most.

‘I do. Or I did.’ Mary’s voice dropped to a whisper and she became silent.

‘Mary?’ No answer. Phemie looked up, checked the drip, glanced at Gil, who was standing by ready to give her anything she needed. She’d forgotten he was there, listening to her conversation. It didn’t matter, though. Not now. Only Mary mattered. ‘Mary?’ She tried again, her tone a little more forceful. ‘Mary, tell me what Daniel’s favourite movie is. Anthony likes superhero movies. Mary?’

Phemie heard the sound of the other woman sniffing, as though she was quietly crying. ‘Uh…he likes superheroes too. Don’t most boys?’

She breathed a sigh of relief at Mary’s reply. ‘I guess they do.’

‘My favourite is the one about the ice-skating princess. I even took up ice-skating because of that movie, wanting to glide and spin as gracefully as she does.’

‘And can you?’

‘I can. I don’t skate in competitions or anything but it’s where I go when I want to relax or when things aren’t going right.’ There was a pause. ‘I keep imagining that’s where I am right now. Skating around the rink, the breeze on my face, my arms out behind me as all the problems slide off and float away, leaving me free.’

A lump formed in Phemie’s throat at Mary’s words and she looked up at Gil. There was no need for either of them to say anything. Gil’s gaze confirmed that he’d heard Mary and the look in Phemie’s eyes said she wanted to find a place like that for herself, a place where all her stresses and worries could slide off and float away on the breeze. Gil’s brown eyes encompassed her, making her feel safe and secure, letting her hope the place she might find that release was within his arms.

‘Every year at Christmas,’ Mary continued, ‘my mum and I sit down and watch it together. It’s like our tradition. I want to do that with my daughter. Or I did.’ She fell silent for a moment and then Phemie could hear the sounds of crying again. When Mary spoke, it was with quiet acceptance. ‘I’m not going to make it, am I?’ It may have been spoken as a rhetorical question but Phemie decided to answer it.

‘You have a very solid crew of workers who would beg to differ. I know it’s hard to wait but everyone’s doing everything they can. We’re working as a team and we’re going to get you out.’ She was adamant about that.

‘I’m scared, Phemie.’

‘I know.’ Phemie leaned forward, contorted herself through the wreckage again and found Mary’s hand, holding it as reassuringly as she could. ‘I know.’ Her own tears slid down her cheeks and she closed her eyes, knowing she needed to be strong for Mary. They were getting closer to extraction with each passing minute. ‘Um…’ She sniffed and quickly schooled her voice to portray a confidence she didn’t feel. ‘What other types of sport do you like?’

Phemie successfully managed to distract Mary while Gil stood in silence, watching the strength that flowed through her. She was quite a woman.

The entire time Phemie was in the vehicle, his body was taut, his mind focused. It was as though he was on red-alert, watching carefully, working through differing scenarios just in case things went haywire. Phemie was putting herself in harm’s way and whilst he understood her need to be helpful, he didn’t like it.

Apart from that last searing look, she’d kept her focus on Mary, as it should be. Yet Gil had also noticed the way she’d not only physically but mentally removed herself from his touch when he’d caressed her cheek. Was she upset with him? Had he crossed a line? Had he gone too far, too fast? The fact that he had no idea why she affected him the way she did was a constant puzzle yet his need to feel that soft, sweet skin had been too powerful for him to resist.

Even if he did accept there was something of a more personal nature developing between them, the main question remained—what on earth could he do about it? He would be leaving her country within a very short period of time and returning to his own world of rules, regulations and red tape. Now, though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. Was that why he was latching onto Phemie? She was like a breath of fresh air, one that had blown right into his neatly ordered life and completely disrupted it. Had he become so closed off, so insular that a beautiful and intelligent woman like Euphemia Grainger could just waltz in and shake him up? Maybe so.

After June and Caitie had died, Gil had locked himself into a world of work. He hadn’t been able to help his wife and his baby girl but that hadn’t meant there weren’t other people who needed him. So he’d worked, he’d researched, he’d developed different means and methods for procedures and then he’d toured the world, telling all who would listen, hoping to make a difference somewhere, some place, some time.

However, had his self-enforced prison meant he’d completely lost touch with the real world—the world of beautiful and intelligent women? Sure, he had female colleagues and he respected them but never had one attract him the way Phemie did. He’d been more than content to remain alone, to remain in his own little world…until he’d met her.

Did he have to stay alone? Was there…could there be some possibility that his life
hadn’t
ended when his family had been cruelly taken from him? It was a thought he’d never considered and he filed it away to take out later when he was in a less intense atmosphere.

The fire crews had made some progress but now they were getting to the stage that if they moved too much too soon, it could do more damage to Mary’s already traumatised body.

‘We’re going to need to stabilise her as best we can before we move this last section,’ Kirk was explaining. ‘Unfortunately, we can’t get the pat-slide in, the portable stretcher is too bulky so we’re not exactly sure how best to keep Mary still while we continue to cut her out.’

Kirk was mainly talking to Gil as the two men surveyed the situation. From Phemie’s vantage point she could see exactly what they were talking about. She’d just finished checking Mary’s vitals.

‘Are there some spare sheets or blankets in the ambulance?’ she asked.

‘I presume so,’ Kirk answered,

‘And rope? Do you have some rope?’

‘Plenty of rope.’ Kirk nodded.

‘Then why not use the blanket and rope to fashion a sling? If Gil can manage to slide in around the side where you’ve already removed that back section and feed it through, hopefully I’ll be able to reach in and pull it up this side of Mary, thereby—’

‘Keeping her suspended in a sling whilst we lift the rest of the wreckage off her.’ Kirk finished her sentence, nodding with excitement before racing off to get things organised.

‘You really do think outside the box, don’t you?’ Gil remarked.

‘Improvisation is a big part of outback medicine. You’ll see that.’ Phemie looked at him, the midday sun shining down on them. Thank goodness it was autumn rather than the height of summer otherwise they’d all be cooking in the Aussie heat and humidity by now. As she looked at Gil, the way the sun’s rays were surrounding him almost gave him a sort of halo effect. It only served to enhance his good looks, his dark hair, his hypnotic eyes, his square chiselled jaw.

Phemie forced herself to look away. Staring at him wasn’t the right way to keep herself under control. He was a colleague, possibly a friend. Nothing more. She started talking to Mary again, keeping the woman as alert as possible, given the circumstances. The last blood-pressure reading had shown they were currently replacing the fluids almost as fast as Mary was losing them. It wasn’t a good sign. The internal or external bleeding—or both, depending on what they eventually found—needed to be stopped as soon as possible and once more Phemie experienced a high level of impatience, even though she knew everyone on the crew was doing everything they could as fast as they possibly could.

The paramedics had already called through to Sydney General and alerted A and E to the situation, giving as much of a breakdown of Mary’s injuries as Phemie could presently ascertain.
Things didn’t look good but she wasn’t going to let that deter her and pushed the negative thoughts to the back of her mind. She needed to keep talking to Mary, doing all she could to take the woman’s mind off what was currently happening to her.

‘Anthony loves tactile things,’ she was telling Mary, the conversation having returned to the topic of their brothers. ‘When he was younger, every time we walked into a new room, he’d have to touch the floor with his hand to feel the difference in the surface.’

‘That’s what Daniel does, too.’

‘My mother, who is a total germaphobe, would carry around little wash cloths to wipe him down every time he’d run his hands all over the floor.’ Phemie smiled at the memory. ‘It doesn’t seem so long ago and now, he’s off travelling around Sydney somewhere with his friends.’ She hoped to goodness he hadn’t been caught in this traffic jam and made a mental note to call him when she arrived at the hotel.

‘Really? He’s travelling? He is so brave.’

‘That’s Anthony. Last year, he even moved away from home.’

‘Now I know you’re kidding.’

‘Not in the slightest. He now resides in an independent living facility, specifically designed for adults with Down’s, and he loves it.’

‘It’s so great to hear you talk like this, for me to know that Daniel’s future isn’t going to be so restricted by society.’

‘On the contrary. I confess, I get a little jealous of him.’

‘I know what you mean. Sometimes I wish I had Daniel’s outlook on life. He’s always so positive.’

Gil listened as he worked with the crews, pleased he had the opportunity to learn more about Phemie. He was highly intrigued by her and knowing more gave him a stronger feeling of control. Losing loved ones, especially his gorgeous baby girl, had left him more determined to control everything as closely as he could.