Читать книгу Wildfire Island Docs - Алисон Робертс - Страница 27

STEPPING OFF A plane could be more than stepping onto unfamiliar ground.

Sometimes it was like stepping back in time.

The heat of the early evening was the first thing that Luke Wilson noticed. The kind of heat laced with moisture that felt like the anteroom of a sauna. Why on earth had he chosen to fly in a suit?

Because that was what internationally renowned specialists in tropical diseases wore when they were invited to be a keynote speaker at an exclusive conference?

The smell was the second thing that hit Luke as he walked from the plane towards the golf cart that was clearly waiting to transport him to his accommodation at Wildfire Island’s newest facility—a state-of-the-art conference centre.

He’d already shed his jacket on the small private plane that he’d boarded in Auckland, New Zealand—the last leg of a very long journey from London. Now he loosened his tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves as he breathed in the scent of fragrant blossoms like frangipani and jasmine being carried on a gentle, tropical breeze.

And it was the smell that did it.

It smelled like …

Oh, man … it smelled like Ana.

The emotional reaction slammed into him with far more force than he had anticipated. A mix of guilt. And loss. And a longing that was still powerful enough—even after so many years—to make him wonder if his knees were in danger of buckling.

He shouldn’t have come back here.

‘Let me take that for you, Dr Wilson.’ The smiling young island lad held out a hand to take his small suitcase. ‘Hop on board and I’ll take you to your bure. You’ve got just enough time to freshen up before the cocktail party.’

Cocktail party? For a moment, Luke hesitated—his brain fuzzy from a mixture of displacement and the opposing time zone. Oh, yes … this was the ‘meet and greet’ session before this exclusive conference started tomorrow. A chance to reconnect with his esteemed colleagues from all over the globe who shared his passion—the ambition to make a real difference in the world. Harry would be there, too, of course. More formally known as Sheikh Rahman al-Taraq, Harry was a patient turned friend who was bringing that ambition close enough to touch …

Luke’s suitcase was strapped onto the back of the cart and the young man was giving him a curious look, clearly aware of his hesitation.

‘You ready, Dr Wilson?’

Luke gave a single, curt nod, defying jet lag as he focussed on what lay ahead for the next couple of days. The nod dispelled any ghosts as well. Anahera didn’t live here now. She’d moved to Brisbane almost as soon as he’d left Wildfire Island nearly five years ago. The weird sensation—a curious mix of opposite ends of the spectrum between dread and hope—was nothing more than a waste of mental energy.

‘I’m ready.’ He climbed onto the cart, smiling at his chauffeur.

‘I just don’t get it.’ Sam Taylor, one of the permanent doctors at Wildfire Island’s small hospital, shook his head as he stirred his coffee. ‘All the comings and goings and the research centre being fenced off for so long. Now we have private jets coming in and it seems that we have a boutique international conference venue on Wildfire Island. Why here?’

Anahera Kopu shrugged. ‘It’s a gorgeous place. Different. Exotic enough to attract people who might need an inspiring break as a background to sharing knowledge and doing the kind of networking that’s important in the scientific world.’

‘I get that. But I still don’t understand why someone would choose a place as exotic as the M’Langi Islands. How did they even know about us? And can you imagine how much it has cost? Who’s behind it and why has it been such a secret?’

Anahera shook her head. ‘I have no idea. But it’s not the only secret on this island, is it?’

Oh, help … what an idiotic thing for her—of all people—to say. She had been keeping something huge a secret from all the people who meant the most to her—her mother and her colleagues and friends who were her wider family.

Sam grinned. ‘Do tell, Ana … you must know a few more than me. You grew up here and I’m just a newbie.’

Anahera kept her tone light enough to make the conversation impersonal. She’d had plenty of practice at steering conversations in a safe direction.

‘No, you’re not. You’ve been here for years now.’ She turned on the hot tap and reached for some dishwashing liquid. ‘You arrived just after I went off to Brisbane to do my postgrad training, didn’t you?’

‘Mmm … when the research station was just that. A research station. Now we find out it’s been added to and turned into some exclusive resort that’s going to be used for medical think tanks and—not only that—there’s a rumour that apparently there’s been some amazing breakthrough that’s going to be announced. Something that could change our lives. Don’t you think someone might have told us about that? What do you think it is?’

‘No idea. Unless they’ve come up with a new vaccine, maybe?’

‘Doubt it. That takes years and years and more money than anyone would want to throw at an isolated group of Pacific islands. I reckon it’s got something to do with that M’Langi tea they make and how it seems to protect some islanders from encephalitis. Did you know that research started on that decades ago?’

Oh, yes … Anahera had known about that. Not that she was about to share any details. She didn’t want to think about it, let alone tell someone else. Unbidden, a memory surfaced of sitting in a swinging chair as a tropical twilight morphed into night. Of arms—heavy but so welcome—resting on her body as she lay back against the chest of the man who was telling about his curiosity regarding the tea. She shook the memory off with a head shake that was visible but fortunately appropriate to a dismissive comment.

‘I think they’d decided that the only benefit of the tea was some sort of natural insect repellent so that mosquito bites were less likely and therefore people were less likely to contract encephalitis from them. It’s hardly going to change our lives.’

Sam sat down at the table. ‘I guess not. What we really need is for the aerial spraying to happen to control the mosquito problem. I wonder if anyone’s managed to get in touch with Ian Lockhart yet. He’s the person who should be organising it.’

Anahera shrugged. ‘Not that I know of. He seems to have fallen off the face of the earth. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear he’s in Vegas, gambling away any recent profits from the mine.’

‘If it doesn’t happen soon, we could be in for a few nasty cases this year. We don’t want another Hami, do we?’

‘Heavens, no.’ Anahera could feel her face scrunching into lines of distress. She would be in tears in no time if they started talking about the little boy they had lost to encephalitis a couple of years ago. It had been the most heart-wrenching case of her nursing career so far. Almost unbearable, because the little boy had been the same age as her own daughter.

‘Maybe we’ll find out at this cocktail party. You all set, Ana? Got a pretty dress?’

‘I’m not going.’

‘But you’re invited. We all are.’

‘Doesn’t mean I have to go. I want to spend some time with Hana. I haven’t seen her all day.’ Anahera dried the mug and put it back in the cupboard.

‘Bring her, too.’

She laughed. ‘Take a three-year-old to a cocktail party? I don’t think so … Besides, I said I might stay on till ten p.m. if Hettie decides she wants to go before taking over the night shift.’

Anahera could feel a faint flush of warmth in her cheeks as the quirk of Sam’s eyebrow made her realise that she had just pulled the rug out from beneath her excuse of wanting to spend more time with her daughter.

‘I just don’t feel like being social, okay? I had enough of that kind of thing in Brisbane. Not my scene.’

‘There’ll be interesting people to talk to who’ll only be here for a couple of days. Experts on things like dengue fever and encephalitis. I’m looking forward to hearing what the latest research is all about and any improvements to treatment, never mind what the secret announcement is.’

‘And I’ll look forward to you telling me all about it tomorrow.’ Anahera’s tone was firm. Clipped, even. She didn’t want to hear people talking about research into tropical diseases. It was too much of a reminder of conversations long past. Like the ones about the M’Langi tea. And the dreams of someone who had planned to change the world for the better. She’d bought into those dreams a hundred per cent, hadn’t she? Because she’d been going to be by his side while he made them happen. Even now, that sense of loss could tighten her throat and generate that unpleasant prickle behind her eyes.

‘There’s going to be a hangi. You love hangis.’

‘I know. Mum’s in charge of it, which is why she’s left us to sort the patients’ meals tonight.’ A quick glance at her watch and Anahera had the perfect excuse to leave. ‘I’d better go and get on with the observations and medications round so I can feed everyone before they want to go to sleep.’

Sam shook his head, clearly giving up. ‘I’ll help with the obs and do the meds. We’ve only got a few inpatients so it won’t take long. Then I’ll have a shower and get spruced up while you’re playing chef.’

The shower was exactly what he’d needed to clear the jet lag and sensation of displacement but, if anything, it only added to Luke’s amazement.

Like the rest of this luxurious bure tucked into the tropical jungle edging the beach, this bathroom could have been plucked from a five-star resort. The walls were an almost flat jigsaw of boulder-sized stones and the floor a mosaic of grey pebbles inset with white ones that made a tribal design of a large fish. The soap was faintly scented with something that smelled like the island—jasmine, maybe—and the towels were fluffy and soft.

Wrapping one of those towels around his waist, Luke stepped back into the round sleeping area where the mosquito nets, still tied back over the huge bed, rippled gently in the sea breeze coming through the louvered windows. He could hear voices outside. People greeting each other as they made their way from the other bures to the meeting hall where the cocktail party would probably be under way already.

None of these dwellings had been here the last time. There’d been a rustic cabin or two that had been used by visiting marine scientists but they’d been closer to the laboratories and had clearly been demolished to make way for the new meeting hall. Luke had never needed to use one anyway. He’d come here to work at the hospital as part of his specialist training in tropical diseases so he’d stayed in one of the cabins set up for the FIFO—Fly-In-Fly-Out—staff that provided medical cover and a helicopter service for the whole group of islands and managed to keep a surprisingly excellent, if small, hospital running.

Even the local people who helped staff the hospital had been excellently trained. Like the nurses.

Like Ana …

Luke pulled on a short-sleeved, open-necked shirt and a pair of light chinos. He combed his hair but decided not to bother eliminating his five o’clock shadow. This evening, in particular, was a gathering of people who knew each other well and they’d been invited to relax here. For the next couple of days the intention was for them to enjoy a tropical break while they shared new ideas and then brainstormed the best way to use this facility in the future.

Outside, the sun was already low and the heavy fragrance of the lush ginger plants screening his bure from the next one made Luke draw in a deep breath. He’d only taken a couple of steps before he turned back, however. How ironic would it be to come here and end up as a patient? Digging into his bag, he found the tropical-strength insect repellent he’d brought and gave himself a quick spritz. He slipped the slim aerosol can into his shirt pocket to take with him in case one of his colleagues had not been so well prepared.

Like the accommodation bures, the meeting hall had been designed to blend with island style. It had a thatched roof and was open on all sides with polished wooden benches and woven mats on the floor. A table had been set up as a bar, and a man peeled away from the group gathered in front of it.

‘Luke. It’s so good to see you.’

‘Harry.’ Luke took the outstretched hand but the greeting turned into more of a hug than a handshake. They were far more than colleagues, thanks to what they’d gone through together years ago. ‘I can’t believe what you’ve achieved here.’

‘It was your idea.’

‘Hardly. I suggested using the laboratories as a base to attract new research. I didn’t expect you to run with it to the extent of creating the world’s most desirable conference venue.’ Luke shook his head. ‘You don’t do things by halves, do you, Harry?’

‘I needed a new direction. Or maybe a distraction.’

Luke’s gaze dropped to his friend’s hand. ‘How is it?’

‘Oh, you know … I won’t be stepping back into an operating theatre any time soon.’ Harry turned away with a smile. ‘Let me get you a nice cold beer. Unless you’d prefer something else? A cocktail, perhaps?’

‘A beer would be great. But don’t worry. I’ll get it myself. And I need to say hello to people.’ Luke followed Harry towards the bar but got sidetracked on the way when he noticed an acquaintance. ‘Charles … it’s been far too long. How are things going in Washington, DC?’

‘It was snowing when I left.’ Charles—an American expert on dengue fever—grinned broadly as he gestured towards their stunning view of the beaches and sea beyond the jungle. ‘Have to say, this is a bit of a treat.’

‘It’s a great place. If you walk past the rock fall at the end of the beach in front of the bures you’ll get to Sunset Beach. On an evening like this the cliffs light up like they’re on fire. That’s how this island got its name.’

‘Is that so? You’ve obviously done your homework.’

‘Not exactly. I’ve been here before. When I was starting my specialty training in tropical diseases I came out to do a stint at the hospital here.’

A short stay that had only been intended to enhance his training but which had ended up changing his life.

Haunting him …

He’d known he would encounter ghosts here but they were so much more powerful than he had anticipated. He should have made it impossible for Harry to persuade him to return but how could he have missed this inaugural event when he’d been present at the moment the dream had started? When he’d been the one to suggest the setting?

‘I heard about the hospital.’ A tall, blonde woman with a Scandinavian accent had joined them. ‘Is it usual for such an isolated group of islands to have such a well-equipped medical centre?’

‘Not at all. It’s thanks to the Lockhart family that it came about. They discovered the gold and started the mine and the research station.’

‘And the mine did well enough to pay for setting up the hospital?’

‘Not exactly.’

Another ghost appeared because it was impossible not to remember when he’d first heard this story himself. He’d been walking hand in hand with Anahera, on their way to the best seat in the house for the dramatic show that nature put on every evening at Sunset Beach. He could actually hear the sad notes in her voice as she’d filled him in on a bit of island history.

‘It was a family tragedy that made it happen. A premature birth of twins that led to the death of their mother and one of the twins being severely disabled. Their father—Max Lockhart—devoted his life to making sure such a thing would never happen again. He studied medicine himself, lobbied the Australian government for funding and encouraged local people to get trained. I believe he even paid for some of that training out of his own pocket.’

‘Amazing …’ Charles murmured. ‘And now he’s set up this conference centre? He’s a man with vision, that’s for sure.’

‘Someone else had this vision.’ Luke looked up to smile in Harry’s direction. He was outside now, with a group of islanders, and they were taking the top layer off a cooking pit. Steam billowed out and a delicious smell wafted in through the open walls of the meeting house. ‘Have you met Sheikh Rahman al-Taraq?’

‘I heard a lot about him when I made enquiries after getting the invitation for this meeting. A surgeon, yes? Isn’t he funding some extensive research into vaccines for encephalitis? How come a surgeon got so interested in a tropical disease?’

‘You’ll have to ask him about that.’

‘I’ll do that. Maybe over dinner. Whatever it is they’re dishing up out there smells fantastic. I’m starving …’

‘I don’t like fish pie.’

‘There’ll be some ice cream later, Raoul. As long as you eat your veggies.’ Anahera tried to sound firm but she was smiling as she delivered her last dinner tray. ‘You won’t be eating hospital food for much longer anyway. Didn’t I hear Dr Sam say you might be able to go home tomorrow?’

‘He’s going to see how well I go on the crutches. And talk to my mum about getting to clinics to get my bandages changed.’

‘Yes … you’ve got to keep that leg clean. You don’t want to have to have any more operations.’

‘I’m going to have a big hole in my leg where the ulcer was, aren’t I?’

‘Not a hole, exactly, but it will be a big scar and a dent where there isn’t so much muscle. And you’re going to have to work on building up your other leg muscles with the exercises we’ve taught you. You’ve been in bed for a long time.’

‘Ana …’

She turned swiftly at the urgent tone of the call to see Sam in the doorway of the two-bed ward.

‘Sam … I thought you were at the cocktail party.’

‘I was on my way. Got a call. You have to come with me.’

Anahera tucked back a stray tress of long dark hair that was escaping the knot on the back of her head. She glanced down at her uniform of the green tunic and three-quarter-length pants that were looking a bit worse for a long day’s wear and she shook her head, but Sam was already turning. His voice got fainter as he headed towards their small theatre suite.

‘Now, Ana. It’s an emergency.’

Any thoughts of how she must look vanished as Anahera ran after Sam. He was lifting the heavy life pack in one hand and reaching for an oxygen cylinder with the other.

‘What’s happened?’

‘Could be a heart attack. One of the visiting doctors. Ten out of ten chest pain and nausea. Grab the resus kit and let’s go.’

Manu, the hospital porter, had a golf cart already running outside the door.

‘Maybe I should stay,’ Anahera said. ‘We can’t leave the hospital unattended.’

‘I’ll stay,’ Manu told them. ‘And Hettie’s on her way.’

‘I need you,’ Sam said as he stowed the gear on the back of the vehicle. ‘You’re the one with the intensive care training. If we have to intubate and ventilate, I want you helping.’

Ana climbed onto the cart. Sam was right. This was exactly the sort of scenario she had covered with her extensive postgraduate training. She could deal with something like this without a doctor around, if necessary, and the opportunity to keep her skills fresh didn’t happen that often.

They bounced down the track as Sam opened the throttle. It wasn’t that far to the new development but it was far enough to have Anahera running through all the possibilities in her head. Would they find their patient in a cardiac arrest? At least there were plenty of doctors there who could provide good-quality CPR but they would need the defibrillator to have any hope of starting a heart again.

It was almost an anticlimax to rush in and find nothing dramatic happening. A group of people were standing quietly beside a table covered with abandoned plates of food. A middle-aged man was sitting on the floor, propped up by a large cushion. Another man was crouched beside him with a hand on his wrist, taking his pulse. The woman standing beside them, directing a breeze from a fan to the patient’s face, was Anahera’s mother, Vailea Kopu, who was the first to spot their arrival.

‘They’re here,’ she said. ‘You’re going to be fine, Dr Ainsley.’

‘I’m fine already,’ the man grumbled. ‘I keep telling you, it’s only indigestion. I ate your wonderful food too fast, that’s all.’

Sam crouched beside the man. ‘Let’s check you out to make sure. I’m Sam Taylor, one of the resident doctors here.’

‘This is Charles Ainsley.’ The man monitoring the condition of their patient turned to look at Sam. ‘He’s sixty-three and has a bit of a cardiac history …’

Anahera wasn’t hearing any of their patient’s history. Her hands were shaking as she opened the pockets of the life pack and pulled out the leads they would need to do a twelve-lead ECG and check whether the heart’s blood supply was compromised.

She couldn’t look up but she didn’t need to.

She would have known that voice anywhere …

How on earth had the possibility of Luke Wilson attending this elite conference not occurred to her?

But it had, hadn’t it? She’d been avoiding any mention of the upcoming event because that thought had been haunting her. Not attending the cocktail party because she didn’t want to hear people talking about research into tropical diseases had been a blanket denial. There was only one person she would really dread listening to. Or meeting. The visiting medical specialists would only be here for a couple of days, she had told herself. It would be easy to stay out of the way.

Much easier not to even know whether Luke was present.

She’d been right to dread this. Even the sound of his voice was overwhelming enough to have her whole body trembling. What would happen if she looked up and made eye contact?

He was still talking to Sam. ‘… Stable angina but he’s due for a coronary angiogram next month.’

‘Let’s get an ECG,’ Sam said. ‘Have you had any aspirin today, Charles? Used your GTN spray?’

‘I took an extra aspirin for the flight. Forgot my spray.’

‘No problem.’ Having unbuttoned the shirt, Sam reached for the leads that Anahera had attached sticky dots to. ‘Grab the GTN, Ana. And let’s get some oxygen on, too.’

Ana …

Her name seemed to hang in the air. Had Luke heard? Or had he recognised her already and was trying to ignore her presence?

Dammit … her hand was still shaking as she pulled the lid from the small spray pump canister.

‘Open your mouth for me,’ she directed. ‘And lift your tongue …’

‘I can do that.’ A hand closed over hers to remove the canister and there was no help for it—she had to look up.

And Luke was looking right back at her.

For a heartbeat nothing else existed as those hazel-green eyes captured her own with even more effect than the touch of his hand had—and that had been disturbing enough.

Her body froze, and she couldn’t breathe. Her mind froze as it was flooded with emotions that she’d thought she would never experience again. The love she had felt for this man. The unbearable pain of his betrayal.

And then something else made those memories evaporate as instantly as they’d appeared.

Fear …

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. It was dangerous. She had to protect more than her own heart and that meant she had to find the strength to deal with this and make sure nothing was allowed to change.

Determination gave her focus and an unexpected but very welcome sense of calm. It was Anahera who broke the eye contact and found that both her voice and her hands had stopped shaking.

‘Fine. I’ll put the oxygen on.’

The moment had mercifully been brief enough for no one else to have noticed. Or maybe it hadn’t. Sam looked up after sticking the final electrode into place.

‘This is Anahera,’ he told Luke. ‘Our specialty nurse.’

‘Yes.’ Luke pressed the button on the canister to direct a second spray under their patient’s tongue. ‘We’ve met before.’

‘Of course …’ Vailea was still standing beside them, providing a cool breeze from the palm-frond fan. ‘I knew I’d seen you before. You came here to work in the hospital a few years ago.’

‘I did.’

‘You had to rush away, though … Your wife was ill?’

Oh … God … There it was again. The pain …

‘Yes.’ The monosyllable was curt. Grudging. Maybe Luke didn’t want to remember the way they’d parted any more than she did.

The only blessing right now was that there were only two people in this room who knew what had happened during the few weeks that Luke had been here and only one who knew what the aftermath had been.

Anahera just had to make sure that it stayed that way.

Ana …

Hearing that name had been a bombshell Luke hadn’t been expecting.

Oh, he’d seen the green uniform that looked a bit like a set of scrubs from the corner of his eye and had realised the attending doctor had brought an assistant to help carry all the medical gear, but he’d been so focussed on relaying all the information he’d gathered about Charles that he hadn’t looked properly.

And then he’d heard her name. Had seen the way her hand had been shaking as she’d struggled to get the cap off the GTN spray pump. It had been an unconscious reaction to take the canister from her hand. Ana had been struggling and he could help. The consequence of touching her hadn’t entered his thoughts at all so no wonder it had been another bombshell.

But both of those shocks—hearing her name and touching her skin—were nothing compared to looking into her eyes for the first time in nearly five years.

How could that be so powerful?

They were just a pair of brown eyes and he must have met hundreds of people with that eye colour over those years. How could a single glance into this particular pair make him feel like the ground beneath him had just opened into a yawning chasm?

It was like the difference between putting a plug into an electrical socket and somehow sticking your finger in to access the current directly.

And Ana had felt it, too. He’d seen the shock in her eyes but then he’d seen something he’d never expected to see. Something that squeezed the air out of his chest to leave a vacuum that felt physically painful.

He’d seen fear, he was sure of it.

‘It’s gone.’ The voice of their patient sounded absurdly cheerful. ‘The pain’s completely gone.’

No. Luke rocked back on his heels, his gaze seeking Ana’s again.

Charles might well be feeling fine but Luke had the horrible feeling that, for himself, the pain had only just begun.