The Doctors' Baby (6 page)

‘That's great,' Em said, mildly surprised. Lori's Raymond was verging on truly fat, and she worried about him, but she thought he'd taken on the role of fat and jovial for ever.

‘It's not much use, though,' Lori told her, still smiling. ‘It's just lucky I love him tubby. He's using the doughnut hole diet.'

‘The doughnut hole diet?'

‘Doughnut holes are the bits you get when you cut the middle out of the doughnut.' Lori nodded sagely. ‘So, instead of eating donuts, Ray now only eats doughnut
holes. He figures all the calories stay in the doughnuts themselves.' She chuckled. ‘And yet still I love him. If I wasn't so tied up with my kids I'd even marry him—but he's content enough with the arrangement as it is.'

‘Lucky Ray.'

‘Lucky me.' Her friend's smile died. ‘Seriously, Em, you'll be sharing a house with Jonas for the next three months. If I were you—'

‘If I were me I'd be very careful,' Em said solidly. ‘Unlike you, I can't indulge in a love life. Seriously, Lori, do you know what would happen if I fell in love with Jonas Lunn?'

‘No.' Her friend sighed resignedly. ‘I don't. But I have a feeling you're about to tell me.'

‘Yep.' Em was on her bandwagon now, and there was no stopping her. ‘It's one of two things. First, I could fall completely irrevocably in love, my passion would be returned in full by the wonderful Jonas, and I'd drop everything and follow the man of my dreams wherever he went.'

‘Not necessarily. He could stay here.'

‘Oh, come on, Lori. Do you seriously think a man like Jonas could ever be happy practising medicine in Bay Beach?'

‘Maybe not, but—'

‘Or, two,' Em continued ruthlessly, ‘we could have a mad, passionate affair, then he leaves, I break my heart, and I sit around for the rest of my life like Miss Haversham in that Charles Dickens novel.'

‘What, surrounded by rats and wedding cake?' Her friend eyed her dubiously. ‘Unlikely! Bernard would stir himself to eat the cake, and your patients would queue even if you were wearing your fifty-year-old wedding
dress. Em, you don't think you could be going overboard here?'

‘No.' Em hardened her heart.

‘There is a third option,' Lori suggested.

‘Which is?'

Robby had fallen asleep in Em's arms. Lori lifted him out, tucked him into his cot and kissed him goodnight. Then she stood back and eyed her friend in concern.

‘You could just have fun,' she told her. ‘You could just lighten up, have a fling and enjoy yourself. Heaven knows, you deserve it.'

‘I—'

‘The world won't end if you have an affair,' Lori said sternly. ‘And you might just have a very good time. Think about it. Now, go home. I'm sorry, love, but my Raymond's coming to dinner and I need to cook. My time without too many kids in this house is precious, because I intend to have a love life, even if you don't. Love lives are fun. Think about it.'

And with that she kissed her friend on the cheek and propelled her out the door.

Leaving Em thinking about it.

 

When she walked into the apartment, Jonas was there and, just like Lori, he was cooking dinner.

The sensation was so unexpected that it brought her up short. She stood in the doorway while the smell of steak filled her nostrils and the aura of his presence filled her senses.

‘Um…why are you here?' she managed at last, and he threw her a grin over his shoulder.

‘I live here. It's the doctors' quarters,' he told her, quite kindly. ‘The nurses showed me through. I've unpacked into one of the spare bedrooms, I've introduced myself to
your doormat that calls itself a dog and I'm now thoroughly at home. And I'm cooking us both dinner.' Then, at her look of bewilderment, his grin widened. ‘I had Lori ring me when you left the home so I knew when to put the steak on. I was starving!'

‘So Lori knew?'

‘Of course Lori knew,' he told her. ‘Otherwise how could I have timed the steak?'

That much was unanswerable. Em thought a few unutterable thoughts about deceiving friends and fought to keep her composure. ‘You could have eaten without me.'

‘Why? You're not vegetarian, are you?' he asked, his face falling. And then the smile returned. ‘But, hey, Lori would have told me, and even if you are it's no matter. I'm starving enough to eat two steaks by myself, and I have a heap of crispy herbed potatoes in the oven.'

‘Crispy potatoes…' The aroma throughout the kitchen was wonderful. Almost unbelievable. She stalked suspiciously across the room to the oven and pulled the door wide, but it was just as Jonas had said. There they lay, masses of tiny potatoes, baked golden and mouth-watering, and smelling of rosemary and sage and something she couldn't identify.

‘Didn't you believe me?' he asked, wounded, and she struggled to know how to answer him.

‘You can cook,' she managed finally, and he lifted his brows in mock indignation.

‘Lady, I'm a surgeon. If I can repair a heart valve, I can follow a recipe.'

‘It doesn't always follow,' she muttered, thinking of men she'd known in the past.

‘Then welcome to the new order.' He motioned to the table. There was a salad, already prepared, and a bottle of wine. ‘Sit.'

‘I don't drink.'

‘Because you're always on call?' He'd guessed it. ‘But I'm on call tonight. So sit! And enjoy the novelty.'

So she sat while Jonas piled her plate high with steak and potatoes, and poured her a glass of wine and himself a soda water.

‘See?' he said virtuously, sitting down himself. ‘I'm in an alcohol-free zone for the night, so you can drink all you want.'

‘I'd better not.' No way. Two glasses of wine with this man before her—
and his smile
—and she'd not be responsible for her actions, she thought dazedly.
All this and the man could cook?

But he was looking toward her dog, who hadn't moved since she'd arrived. Well, why would he? He'd been fed today and there was an hour or so before he had to shift to her bedroom.

‘Does Bernard ever move?' he asked, motioning over to where her big red dog lay sprawled under the kitchen sink. Waiting for something to drop. Only if it didn't drop right on his lolling tongue, it'd be wasted. Some things weren't worth burning calories for.

Em shook her head, smiling. ‘Does Bernard move? That's like asking if a doormat moves.'

‘Oh, I see. You chose him for his scintillating conversation, then.' Jonas grinned, his wide, lazy smile reaching up and lighting his eyes. ‘Great. I can see I'll fit right in. A woman who demands a lot from her men…'

She blushed bright pink at that. Good grief! Get the conversation back to medicine, she told herself. That way was safest.

‘I…I thought you'd be spending the night with Anna.'

That put a damper on the conversation. Jonas's face
looked shuttered. ‘Maybe I should be,' he told her. ‘But I'm not wanted.'

‘Is she OK?'

‘Yes.' He bit into his steak and concentrated on his food, but Em knew it was just a ruse to get his thoughts into order. ‘She is,' he said finally. ‘She's under control. She's home with her kids, packing and being as normal as possible, while she waits to go into hospital tomorrow.'

‘Are you happy to use Patrick?' Em asked.

‘He's an excellent surgeon,' Jonas told her, still absently concentrating on his steak. ‘When I met him I realised I know him a bit. He's older than me, but we trained in the same hospital. Yeah, I'm happy for Patrick to operate and, what's more important, so is Anna.'

‘And he was reassuring?'

‘The margins all look clear. The lump itself is less than a centimetre across. He wants to do a lumpectomy and node clearance, but he's pretty confident that nothing's spread.'

‘And how does that make you feel?' Em asked.

‘Better.' He lifted a potato, examined it—then laid it down on his plate again. ‘No,' he told her honestly. ‘It doesn't. It makes me feel lousy—I feel so damned out of control.'

There was a long silence, broken only by Bernard's inevitable snoring. They finished eating before either spoke again. Em knew that Jonas needed time to come to terms with today's events. The last thing he needed was idle chatter.

So she finished eating, then cleared and stacked the dishwasher while he sat and stared at the table. And stared some more. But she found she didn't mind the silence. She and Grandpa had never needed to make small talk, and somehow, with Jonas, it felt the same.

Like all the little stuff had already been said…

‘Thank you for making dinner,' she said at last, the kitchen cleared and the evening closing in on them. She was bone weary, and he still needed space. She touched his shoulder lightly as she passed. ‘Bernard and I are going to bed. Is there anything else you need?'

He looked blindly up at her. ‘No.'

‘It'll be fine,' she told him. And then she looked across at the phone. ‘Ring Anna.'

‘What?' He glanced at his watch. ‘It's after ten o'clock.'

‘You think she'll be sleeping?'

‘No, but—'

‘Ring her, Jonas,' she said softly. ‘I haven't had so much wine that I can't cope here. If she wants you to go, then you go.'

‘I told you—I'm on call.'

‘If Anna needs you, consider it a call. But ring her.'

He looked at her strangely, his eyes blankly inscrutable. ‘I guess you're right,' he said at last.

‘I think I am.'

He caught her hand and held it, for a whole fraction of a second. It was a short enough time, but it was enough. Em froze at his touch, and could only draw back in relief when he let her go. If he knew what he did to her…

But for Jonas, the sexual tension simply didn't seem to be there. All his thoughts were on his sister. ‘Thank you,' he told her, and gave her a weary smile. ‘You're right, of course.'

‘I have to be,' Em said, and if her voice dragged a little at the thought, who could blame her? ‘I don't have much choice.'

Because, choice or not, the invincible Dr Mainwaring wasn't feeling very invincible at all!

She picked up Bernard, hitched him over her shoulder in a fireman's hold as she'd done every night for ten years, and took her pyjama-bag to bed.

E
M HEARD
him telephone.

She lay in bed and listened to his muted tones, and then she heard the receiver being softly replaced. She half expected him to take his car and leave, but he didn't. Anna must have rejected his offer to come and spend some time with her.

Instead, Em listened to the sounds of him going to bed, in the room right beside hers.

The sensation was so strange it seemed surreal. Jonas Lunn, sleeping in her house!

She'd have to get used to it, she told herself. She might have three months of it.

Whew!

And then came the thought, slipping in when least expected.

Maybe she
could
have an affair!

The thought was like lightning, forking at her out of the darkness. It had been Lori's suggestion.

Lighten up and have an affair? She let the thought drift through her tired mind. Let her sexless, overworked life become, for these short few months, just a little more exciting?

Could she do it?

She wasn't an affair sort of girl.

And Jonas wasn't an affair kind of guy, she told herself crossly into the dark. Especially with the likes of her. Anyone could see he could have just about any woman he wanted.

And as for her… She was plain and unadorned, she thought crossly, and that was the way she liked it. She was built for service rather than decoration.

She was destined to sleep with snoring dogs rather than attractive men.

But today he'd kissed her.

As anyone would have, she told herself even more crossly. He'd been under incredible strain while Anna had had her tests, and he was grateful. So he'd kissed her.

End of story. There was therefore no earthly reason why she should be lying here in the dark, touching her lips and remembering what the feel of Jonas's mouth was like against hers…

Boy, she needed a cold shower. And the man was here for three months!

So get a hold on yourself, she told herself furiously. You're behaving like an idiot. Leave the man alone. Use him professionally but nothing more. Now, shut up, stop thinking crazy thoughts and go to sleep.

Her mind didn't obey orders.

It didn't stop thinking crazy thoughts—and it didn't go to sleep.

It couldn't.

 

In the next bedroom, Jonas was working overtime in the thinking department as well.

First there was Anna.

Tomorrow she faced the surgeon, and his gut wrenched at the thought of it. Hell, she still felt like a kid to him—his baby sister—and all the reassurance in the world couldn't stop him wanting this to be happening to be anyone else—even to him. He'd want anyone to be facing this rather than Anna.

She wasn't a kid, though, he told himself. Her voice on the telephone tonight had been calm and sure.

‘It's OK, Jonas. I've told the children what's happening. I've packed a suitcase for each of them and one for me. No, I don't want you to come back tonight. There's nothing more you can do, so leave me be.'

Leave her be…

He couldn't. He felt sick, doing such a thing, and it felt like his mother's rejection all over again. His mother had walked out on them, and now Anna was pushing him away as hard as she could as well.

She wanted to be as independent as he was himself! As they'd both taught themselves to be.

Damn, he couldn't take much more of this. His family had twisted his emotions since he was tiny, and he hated it.

Which was why it was important to keep the rest of him heart-whole and fancy-free, he told himself in the dark. He needed more involvement—emotional involvement—like a hole in the head.

So why did his confused thoughts keep drifting to Em?

His bed was hard against the wall—her wall. He turned over and surveyed it in the dark. What he desperately wanted was to communicate in some way—maybe tap Morse Code messages in the dark.

He gave a wry smile. She'd think he was crazy if he did.

Was her hair unbraided?

Oh, great, now what was he thinking? He stirred in his bed, easing his long frame around on his too-short mattress. Hell!

Leave Emily Mainwaring alone, he told himself firmly. You play with her and you play for keeps. And the last thing you want in your life is a woman.

But two women were there in his thoughts, and both seemed as needful.

Em and Anna.

His sister and his…

And my temporary partner, he told himself fiercely. My medical partner. Nothing else.

 

The phone rang at midnight.

Jonas was out in the hall to answer it by the third ring, but Em must have had an extension by her bed. As he lifted the receiver he could hear her already talking, and she'd obviously recognised the voice before the caller had identified herself. Jonas caught the urgency in her tone, and he unashamedly listened in.

‘Lori? Is that you?' Em was saying. ‘Lori, I can't hear you until you pull yourself together. Take two deep breaths and tell me what's wrong.'

How had she picked up that it was her friend? The voice down the telephone was a terrified series of gasps, and to Jonas it could have been anyone.

But Em was right. It was Lori. There was a sharp intake of breath and then, finally, she made herself coherent.

‘Em, it's Raymond. He…he came to dinner and we were watching television. He got up to go and then… Em, he's collapsed and stopped breathing. He's on the floor…'

‘Then you know how to do CPR and artificial respiration,' Emily snapped. ‘Do it, Lori. Don't think about anything else but keeping him alive. I'll be there in two minutes. Lori, keep your head and move!'

 

Formula One drivers had nothing on Emily Mainwaring, Jonas decided. He'd hauled pants and a sweater over his pyjamas, and he'd only just reached the car as she gunned it into action. Then they were screaming down the street,
Em's hand flat on the horn to warn oncoming traffic. Her car was making enough noise to waken the dead.

They should be driving his Alfa, Jonas thought grimly, instead of Em's battered sedan. But presumably she had everything she needed packed into her car, and he wasn't arguing. Not that she had time to listen.

And he couldn't get out of her car now—not at the speed she was moving. She hadn't even acknowledged his presence as he'd launched himself into the car, and Jonas knew all her thoughts were on getting to her friend's assistance as fast as possible.

‘Can I ring the ambulance?' he asked as her tyres screeched around the first corner. She nodded, her eyes not leaving the road.

‘Yes.' She motioned to the cellphone on the console. ‘Hit one. Tell them we have a cardiac arrest at Bay Beach Home Two. Maybe I'm wrong, but that's what it sounds like. Then hit three. That'll connect you to the air ambulance. If we pull him around he's going to need critical care and we can't give him that here. They'll fly down from Sydney to collect him. Blairglen's not big enough to support a major coronary care unit.'

‘Are you sure we'll need them?' Jonas was lifting the cellphone as he spoke.

‘No,' she said grimly. ‘Of course I'm not sure. But if we're lucky, we will. Tell them to be on standby anyway—and cross your fingers and toes and anything else you have at the ready.'

‘Right.'

But using the cellphone was harder than he'd thought. Em was cornering like her car was on rails—as it definitely wasn't—and Jonas was hurled against the side of the car as she spun.

She wasn't the least sympathetic. ‘Tighten your seat
belt,' Em snapped, still not looking at him. ‘I can't slow down, and if you hit the door that hard again it could fly open. That's all I need. A road casualty.'

‘Yes, ma'am.' Whoops! He tightened his seat belt, ruefully acknowledging that if he'd been hurt it would have been his own stupid fault. Then he concentrated on contacting the ambulances.

Once again, Em's attention was solely on her driving.

And finally he did it. The ambulance radio operators must have heard the desperation in his voice, caused by trying to stay upright in the face of Em's frantic driving. He had no trouble convincing them their need was urgent, and by the time he was finished Em had halted in front of the Bay Beach Home.

And she didn't stop. She didn't even switch off the engine—just left the car standing open at the front door, flung herself out—she was wearing some sort of pale blue jogging suit that she must have worn to bed—and then she was gone.

Hell!

Jonas was accustomed to calls for the crash cart at hospital, and knew the speed with which the staff mobilised. She'd beaten even them, he thought dazedly. They'd have been lucky to have got here faster if Raymond had collapsed in a bed in a ward two floors below them in a major hospital.

He took a little longer than Em to go inside the house, though. He prioritised. Trusting Em to keep Ray's breathing going, he took the time to switch off the engine, open the boot, grab the cardiac gear and follow.

The scene that met his eyes inside was dramatic. Raymond was slumped unconcious on the living-room floor, with Em working furiously on him and Lori looking on. Raymond's face was as grey as Lori's was white.

He must be in total cardiac arrest, Jonas thought, asking no questions and setting the gear up fast. The man was in his late thirties or early forties, and he was definitely portly. He was wearing a business suit. Lori or Em must have hauled his tie away and ripped his shirt open, but he had every appearance of a businessman who'd spent too much time behind his desk and not enough time in the open air.

There was no more time for appraisal. Em looked up from pushing breath into Raymond's chest and saw him. Her face cleared as she saw he was setting up what she needed most, and she moved to make room for him.

‘CPR's not working,' she told him. ‘Lori can do it like a professional, and she has been, but she's had no response.'

So it was the paddles. A replay of Charlie.

But not with the same results. Please?

They worked hard and fast, with Lori taking over Raymond's breathing, which left the doctors free to work on his chest.

One jerk.

Nothing.

‘Come on. Come on!'

It was a prayer, muttered aloud by Em after the second jerk, and then, magically, Raymond's chest heaved of its own accord.

For a moment everyone else in the room stopped breathing. Waiting…

And then there came a searing, ragged gasp that had Lori collapsing in a sodden heap over her boyfriend's chest. ‘Oh, Ray. Don't die. Come on, Ray, you can do it.'

‘Move back, Lori,' Em said, tugging her friend gently away so the paddles were clear if they needed them again,
but there was hope written all over her face. She looked around to find what she needed, but Jonas, once again, was anticipating her needs.

There was oxygen waiting. Once Ray was breathing for himself, they could get on a mask. They could set up an intravenous drip and begin to dissolve the clot with medication.

And they could hope like hell that no long-term damage had been done, and his heart kept right on beating.

There was a siren in the distance, and Em allowed herself to close her eyes for a fraction of a second. She was saying thank you, Jonas thought as he watched her. She was
so
involved with her patients.

Hell!

It was hell. Being a family doctor in a community like this must be just that, he thought. Being involved with every patient you treated…

His own resolution flashed through his head. He'd been hurt so badly in childhood he'd resolved never to become emotionally involved with anyone other than Anna. And here was Em, taking on the heartaches of an entire community.

She'd go crazy, he thought as he watched the conflicting emotions playing over her face. She couldn't keep doing this, year in, year out, for the rest of her life. She'd burn out.

So maybe she was here for the short term—just as he was.

Only he'd go out voluntarily, but she'd go out in a state of near collapse.

Not while he was here, she wouldn't, he vowed. He could at least give her a few months' respite. The only thing was—he had to keep his level of detachment on track.

Which was really, really hard. Like now…

‘Stand back for a bit, Em,' he told her, and his voice sounded gruffer than usual, even to him. She needed breathing space to get herself together. Maybe she even needed to do what he suspected she might wish to—as Lori was doing—which was burst into tears.

As an emotional outlet it had a lot going for it, he decided. Strangely, he could use a few tears here himself!

‘Go out and radio the air ambulance,' he told Em. ‘Tell them to upgrade because the need is urgent.' What they needed here was a cardiologist, and intensive-care facilities. ‘Will you go on the plane with him?'

‘I can't.' It was an instinctive reaction, but then Em caught herself, thinking it through. Why not? Jonas was here now. She had another doctor to take over! ‘I guess I can,' she said slowly. ‘If you'll cover me.' She looked ruefully down at her pale blue ensemble, and gave a wry smile. ‘Just lucky I go to bed decent. Will you feed Bernard? I'll come back on the train in the morning.'

‘Go and pack, Lori,' Jonas said, taking command as if he'd been born to it. ‘The hospital will provide gear for Raymond, and more things can be sent on later, but you'll need a change of clothes and toothbrush for yourself. And, yes, Em, of course I'll feed Bernard. It'll be a pleasure to see if he's actually alive.'

But Lori was looking wildly from Raymond to Jonas and then back to Raymond. At that moment, Ray's eyes fluttered open. He saw her, his hand moved feebly and Lori's hand caught his. And the thing was settled.

‘You need to go,' Jonas said.

‘But there's still Robby,' Lori whispered, her eyes not leaving Ray's. ‘The baby…'