Читать книгу The Outback Nurse - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 6

‘BUT there must be some other work—anything?’ Olivia fought for control, trying to keep the note of panic from her voice.

‘Ms Morrell, we have plenty of work on our books, particularly for someone with your casualty experience. However, as you’ve said you will only consider a live-in position, it makes things very difficult. Even the large teaching hospitals are cutting back on their living accommodation—the agency nurses just don’t get a look-in.’

Olivia nodded. She had heard it all before. This was the fifth agency she had tried and the only one that had actually come up with a job—a live-in position nursing a recently disabled gentleman in Melbourne. The work in itself didn’t worry her, but in her present emotional state Olivia doubted if she would be much good at bolstering the young man’s spirits.

‘Well, thank you for your time.’ Olivia stood up, smoothing her smart grey skirt. Trying to blink back the ever-threatening tears, she reached for her bag. ‘If anything comes in, you will let me know?’

Miss Lever looked up from the files she was half-heartedly flicking through. Suddenly she felt sorry for Olivia for despite the designer clothes, immaculate hair and make-up she obviously wasn’t as together as she first appeared.

‘Just a moment.’ Miss Lever tapped the keyboard of her computer. ‘I’m sure this won’t remotely interest you, but I did receive an e-mail today from our New South Wales office. It would seem they’re having trouble filling a particular vacancy. It is live-in, but I can’t imagine....’ Her voice trailed off as she printed off the particulars.

‘Tell me about it,’ Olivia said sitting down sharply. Surely there must be a job for her.

‘The position is for a charge nurse with advanced nursing skills to work in general practice.’

‘It sounds perfect.’ Olivia nodded enthusiastically.

‘I think you’d better let me fill you in a bit before you go getting too excited. The practice is in Kirrijong—have you heard of it?’

Olivia nodded. ‘Vaguely. It’s way out in the bush, isn’t it?’

‘That’s an understatement. It’s very pretty apparently, but also very isolated. The practice covers a vast area and the surrounding townships. But when I say “surrounding”, you could hardly say they’re close by. Kirrijong isn’t close to anything. They’re actually in the process of building a small cottage hospital to service the area, which is due for completion in three to six months. The position is available until then, but if you like it...’ Miss Lever gave a cynical smile ‘...I’m sure they’d be delighted to keep you on.’

She looked over at Olivia, expecting to see a look of horror on the well-made-up face. This was, after all, no modern city surgery. Instead, she was surprised to see Olivia closely reading the e-mail, her face full of interest. Perhaps she would get her commission after all. ‘You did your midwifery training in England, I see, as well as your general training.’

‘Yes, but I came straight out to Australia afterwards, and I’ve been in Casualty ever since. Apart from the odd surprise delivery in the department, I haven’t practised.’

Miss Lever shrugged. ‘They only say midwifery training desirable. You’re more than qualified and, anyway, they’re desperate.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well...’ Miss Lever shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. ‘Look, I’m not aware of your circumstances and, of course, it’s none of my business, though it does appear you need a live-in job in a hurry.’

Olivia blushed. Was it that obvious how desperate she was?

‘I just feel I should emphasise this is not the sort of job you’re used to. Apart from your regular hours, you will be expected to help out in emergencies at any given time. It’s an extremely busy surgery, with a large, complicated patient list. A lot of procedures that in the city would be done in a hospital are undertaken there.’

‘Would I be the only nurse in the practice?’

‘Yes, and if there’s a seriously ill patient there will be no cardiac arrest team to bleep, no surgeons waiting scrubbed up in Theatre. Just you and the good doctor until the road or air ambulance arrives, and that can take a long time.’ She paused a moment, before continuing, ‘I ought to tell you that by all accounts Dr Clemson isn’t the most pleasant of personalities.’

‘In what way?’

Miss Lever leant over her desk and lowered her voice. ‘Well, according to the last two girls sent there—who, incidentally, only managed two weeks between them—Dr Clemson is recently widowed and extremely bitter. He’s supposedly very moody and demanding.’

Olivia let out a sigh of relief. For a moment she had thought Miss Lever was going to say he had made a pass at the other nurses. The very last thing she needed right now was to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with an elderly doctor and his roving hands.

‘That doesn’t worry you?’

‘I’ve had more than my share of moody, difficult doctors, I can assure you. I’m not going to collapse in a heap if he barks at me. I can give as good as I get. As long as Dr Clemson can cope with that, I can manage his tantrums.’

Miss Lever looked at Olivia’s determined face and the fiery red hair. She had no doubt she could.

‘You sound as if you don’t want me to take the position,’ Olivia added.

‘On the contrary...’ Miss Lever smiled ‘...I just want to be sure you know what you’re letting yourself in for. I’m not too keen on being on the receiving end of the formidable Dr Clemson’s temper if I send someone unsuitable. I actually think you’ll do very well—you’ve got a marvellous résumé. Three years in charge of such a busy casualty department must prepare you for just about any eventuality.’

‘Just about,’ Olivia agreed.

‘Look, why don’t I go and rustle up some coffee and leave you on your own for a few minutes to think it over?’

‘Thank you, I’d appreciate that.’

Miss Lever walked to the door and, turning to ask how Olivia took her coffee, thought better of it, seeing her brimming eyes as she fished in her bag for a handkerchief. Closing the door quietly behind her, she shook her head. It was most unlike Miss Lever to put someone off a job— usually she was just interested in the commission. But there was something about Ms Morrell, a vulnerability behind that rather brittle exterior that made you not want to add to her troubles. She obviously had enough already.

Olivia leant back in the chair glad to be alone. Under normal circumstances she’d have had hysterics at the thought of a job out in the bush, with only a bitter old doctor as her colleague. But, then, who’d have thought, she reflected, she’d ever be in this situation, practically begging for a job? Sister Olivia Morrell, always so immaculate and in control. How happy she had been—a job she’d loved, Unit Manager in the emergency department at Melbourne City Hospital, wonderful friends and, to cap it all, engaged to Jeremy Forster, Surgical Registrar, dashing, successful and good-looking.

Closing her eyes for a second, Olivia flashed back to the fateful day when Jessica, a dear friend and trusted colleague, had come into her office and asked for a private talk. How clearly she remembered the disbelief and horror as Jessica had gently told her that Jeremy was having an affair with his intern, Lydia Colletti.

At first Olivia had thought it must have been some sort of sick joke, a ghastly mistake, but, seeing the pain in her friend’s eyes, she’d known she’d been hearing the truth. Looking back, it all seemed so obvious. Jeremy’s mood swings, the exhaustion, the constant criticism. She had put it all down to the pressure of his work. He was due for a promotion soon to junior consultant and the competition was stiff. If they could just get through this, she had reasoned, surely he would be happier?

To add insult to injury, despite knowing the long hours and close proximity Jeremy shared with Lydia, she had never once felt threatened. She had trusted him. What a fool, what a stupid trusting fool.

Painfully, Olivia recalled their final row. She had confronted him, of course, and he’d sung like a bird, telling her in all too great a detail her faults, but Olivia had refused to take the blame for his infidelity.

‘How could you do this Jeremy? How could you make love to her and then me?’ she demanded, but Jeremy was unrepentant.

‘Oh, come on, Olivia, when did we last make love? Our sex life is practically non-existent.’

‘And that’s supposed to be my fault?’ she shouted, her anger welling to the surface. ‘It’s you who’s always too tired or too busy. And now I know why, don’t I? You were too damned exhausted after being with Lydia!’

‘Well, at least she enjoys it Olivia. With you it’s like making love to a skeleton, and about as lively.’ He spat the words at her, his guilt and desire to end the discussion making him brutal.

Until finally, exhausted and reeling, all that was left to do was to throw a few hastily grabbed items into a bag and get out with as much dignity as she could muster, desperate to put some space between them.

It seemed that everyone except her had known about the affair. She couldn’t go back to face the sympathetic stares and embarrassed silences. The only solution was to hand in her notice, which unfortunately meant surrendering the city apartment she leased from the hospital. Jessica’s spare room provided a welcome haven but they both knew it was only temporary.

‘Sorry I’ve been so long.’ Miss Lever placed a cup and saucer on the desk in front of her and Olivia forced a smile, suddenly remembering where she was.

‘I took the liberty of ringing Dr Clemson and telling him about you. You are still interested, I hope?’

Olivia nodded.

‘Good. He was very keen.’

Olivia took a deep breath. ‘How soon would he want me to start?’

‘How soon can you get there?’

* * *

Hauling her suitcases off the train onto the platform, Olivia noticed she was the only passenger getting off at Kirrijong. In fact, the train only passed through once a day. Not for the first time, it hit her just how isolated she was. Gradually the city and suburbs had faded into endless bush, the lush green grass paling into sunburnt straw, acre after acre of dry cracked land. She had heard how the drought and dry winter had affected the farmers but, seeing for herself the parched bush and emaciated livestock, it made her realise the drought was far more than just a news bulletin or a page in the newspaper. Times were really tough here.

‘G’day there, I’ll get these. You must be Sister Morrell,’ a friendly, sun-battered face greeted her, his eyes squinting in the setting sun. ‘Jeez, how many cases have you got?’

Olivia blushed. It did seem a bit excessive, yet most of her clothes were still back at home. Throwing caution to the wind, Olivia had sold the car Jeremy had bought her as an engagement present, freeing up some cash. Jeremy would be furious. Blowing some money on a wardrobe more suited to the bush than her designer Melbourne gear had been a good tonic, at least for an afternoon.

Olivia was slightly taken back by the warmth of the man’s welcome, having expected, from Miss Lever’s description, a far more aloof greeting. Judging him to be in his mid-fifties, wearing dirty jeans and faded checked shirt, with a battered akubra shielding his face, Dr Clemson certainly didn’t look the ogre Miss Lever had predicted. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr Clemson.’ She offered her hand, startled when he started to laugh.

‘Youse didn’t think I was the doctor? I can’t wait to tell the missus. I’m Dougie, Dougie Kendall. My wife Ruby is Clem’s housekeeper. I do a few odd jobs around the place, help out with the land.’ He started to laugh again.

Olivia seethed. Did he really find it so funny? It was an obvious mistake. ‘Well, Mr Kendall,’ she said evenly, ‘it’s a pleasure to meet you.’ It wouldn’t do to get the locals offside quite so early.

Climbing into his dusty ute, Olivia winced as Dougie carelessly threw her expensive suitcases in the back. All the windows were wound down, forcing her to shout responses to Dougie’s continual chatter. He pointed out the various residences as he hurtled the ute at breakneck speed along the dry, dusty road.

‘That there belongs to the Hunts, a beaut family. Just had a baby, a little fella, so no doubt youse’ll be seeing them soon. And the land from now till the crossroads belongs to the Rosses.’

Olivia looked at the vast acreage and huge brick residence, far more formal than the weatherboard homes they had passed.

‘They own a lot of land—mind, not as much as the doctor. Their daughter Charlotte is a model, well, that’s what she calls herself anyway, I could think of a few other things.’ He looked over at her, awaiting a response, but Olivia didn’t rise to the bait. She wasn’t interested in gossip. ‘Charlotte’s forever flitting in and out. One minute London the next Italy. She’s supposed to be living in Sydney, but manages to put in an appearance here often enough and grace us with her presence. She’s out with the doctor tonight—that’s why he couldn’t meet you.’

‘Really?’ Despite her earlier disinterest, Olivia sat up, suddenly intrigued. How rude. Surely he could have taken a night off from romancing someone young enough to be his daughter to welcome a new colleague.

‘It’s no business of mine, but she’s a bit touched.’ Dougie tapped his head and laughed. ‘Clem wanted to come and meet youse himself but Charlotte rang with yet another “emergency” and of course he ends up running off to sort her out. Charlotte’s a bit of a drama queen, if you know what I mean.’

Olivia knew what he meant all right. Wasn’t that Lydia’s game? Playing the helpless female, waiting for Jeremy to dash to her rescue. Olivia swallowed hard. While she had been bending over backwards to make their relationship work he had been rushing around comforting Lydia for every trivial hiccup or imagined problem that came her way.

‘We’re coming up to the surgery now.’

Night seemed to have fallen in a moment, with no dusk to ease it in. Through the darkness Olivia could make out a huge rambling federation-style house with an array of plants hanging from the turned veranda posts. Dougie drove slowly past, the ute crunching on the gravel driveway. ‘That’s the doctor’s house. The front of it is the surgery and he lives in the back part—it’s pretty big.’ He drove on for a couple more minutes and brought the truck to a halt. ‘This is you.’ He gestured to a pretty weatherboard with a huge veranda. The same array of hanging plants and terracotta pots adorned the entry and a wicker rocking chair sat idle in the front.

‘Just for me?’

‘Yep, all yours. My wife will be in through the week to take care of the cleaning and laundry. She’ll show youse the ropes better than I can.’

‘There’s really no need. I can manage my own cleaning. I’m quite capable—’

‘Sister,’ he interrupted, ‘youse’ll be busy enough without running around doing housework. Anyway, don’t be doing me missus out of a job.’ He spoke roughly but his eyes were smiling.

‘Oh, well, if you put it like that,’ Olivia replied.

Dougie brought in her luggage as Olivia inspected ‘home’, her shoes echoing on the gorgeous jarrah polished floorboards that ran the length of the house. The lounge was inviting with two soft cream sofas littered with scatter cushions and a huge cream rug adding warmth to the cold floor. Someone thoughtful had arranged a bowl of burgundy proteas on the heavy wooden coffee-table. A huge open fireplace caught her eye. Olivia doubted whether she’d need it for, though dark outside, the air still hung heavy and warm.

‘There’s some red gum chopped. Ruby will set a fire up for you tomorrow. It still being spring, we get the odd chilly evening, though not for much longer. There’s a fan heater in the kitchen cupboard, youse’ll need that in the morning to take the chill off.’

Olivia smiled. ‘It’s a lovely house, beautifully decorated.’

‘That was Kathy’s work.’

‘Kathy?’ Olivia questioned.

‘Yep, Kathy—Clem’s wife, or rather late wife. She loved decorating. Spent weeks on this place, painting, stencilling, finding bits of furniture here and there.’

He spoke in the same casual manner but Olivia could hear the emotion in his voice.

‘Anyway...’ he gestured to the kitchen ‘...there’s plenty in the fridge and cupboards to get you started. Ruby will be over in the morning to take you to the surgery. We don’t want you feeling awkward on your first day.’

‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’

Dougie waved his hand dismissively. ‘No worries. I’ll leave youse to get settled in but, mind, if you need anything there’s our number by the phone in the kitchen.’ With a cheery wave he was off.

Olivia noticed he didn’t even close the front door, just the flyscreen. This obviously wasn’t the city, but old habits died hard. Olivia closed the door and turned the catch. A pang of homesickness hit her but, determined not to feel sorry for herself, she set about unpacking, until finally, with every last thing put away, she put the suitcases into the study wardrobe. This was home for now.

Peering in the fridge, Olivia smiled. There was enough food to last a month—a dozen eggs, bacon as thick as steak, milk, cheese. The pantry was just as well stocked. Tackling the Aga, Olivia put the kettle on. She’d earned a cup of tea and then she’d go straight to bed. The day seemed to have caught up with her all of a sudden.

A sharp knock on the door made her jump. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was edging on ten. Tentatively she opened the heavy door. Leaving the flyscreen closed, she peered at the large figure outlined in the darkness, trying to sound assured. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Olivia?’

‘You are...’ she said questioningly.

‘Jake Clemson, but everyone calls me Clem.’

Olivia blushed, fumbling with the catch. ‘Please, come in.’ He was her new boss and she was treating him like some madman from the bush.

‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’ He shook her hand firmly. ‘Welcome to Kirrijong.’

Olivia smiled, taken aback not only by the unexpected friendliness but also by his appearance. Why had she assumed he’d be older? The man standing before her must only be in his thirties. She had imagined some austere, elderly doctor in tweeds. Jake Clemson, standing well over six feet, with battered jeans and an equally well-worn denim shirt, certainly didn’t fit the image she’d had of him. His dark curly hair needed a good cut—he looked more like an overgrown medical student than a GP.

‘I had hoped to meet you myself, but something came up.’

Olivia shrugged. If she had been expecting an apology or even an explanation she obviously wasn’t going to get one. ‘No problem. Mr Kendall was very helpful.’

‘Dougie’s a great bloke. I knew he’d take care of you.’ He peered over her shoulder into the living room. ‘Time for a quick chat?’

Olivia blushed again, suddenly feeling very rude. ‘Of course. Come through—this way.’ It was his house. As if he wouldn’t know where the lounge was she thought feeling silly, but he just smiled.

‘If I know Dougie and Ruby, there’ll be a few stubbies in the fridge. Do you fancy one?’

Nodding, she followed him into the kitchen as he casually opened the fridge and helped himself to the beer. Opening two stubbies, he made his way back to the living room. Obviously, if she wanted a glass she’d better get it herself!

‘So how do you feel about coming to work here?’ he asked in a deep, confident voice with only a hint of an Australian accent.

Olivia busied herself pouring the beer and managing to spill most of it. ‘I’m really looking forward to it,’ she lied. She could hardly tell him she was having a full-on panic attack and wondering what on earth had possessed her. ‘The agency gave me quite an extensive brief. It all sounds very interesting, though I wish I had a bit more midwifery experience.’

He stared at her, taking in her slender frame and long red hair. The cheerful, confident voice belied her body language. Those huge green eyes were looking everywhere but at him, and her long hands were clutching that glass so tightly he half expected it to shatter. ‘Ms’ Morrell obviously wasn’t as confident as she would have him believe.

‘There is a lot of obstetrics here, but don’t worry about that for now. I’ll hold your hand, so to speak, for the first few weeks, and if I’m not around for some reason you can always call on Iris Sawyer. She used to be the practice nurse up until a couple of years ago. Iris is retired now, and happily so, but she doesn’t mind missing a game of bowls to help out now and then, and her experience with the locals is invaluable.’

Olivia nodded, reassured by the confidence in his voice.

‘Your résumé is rather impressive. I see you worked under Tony Dean in your last job. He gave you a glowing reference. I know him well. We’re old friends.’

‘You are?’ Just the fact that this huge, daunting man was a friend of her beloved Mr Dean, the senior consultant in her former casualty department, made him somehow seem much less intimidating.

‘Yes. Tony Dean was a junior consultant in Sydney when I was a mere intern. Later, our paths crossed again when I went back as a paediatric registrar. That would be five or six years ago. He moved on to Melbourne and I came here, but we still keep in touch. He’s an amazing man as well as a fine doctor, but you don’t need me to tell you that. Many times I’ve rung him for advice about a patient, or had them flown there by the air ambulance. I’ve probably spoken to you on the phone at some time.’

He smiled. It was a nice smile, genuine. Olivia managed to sneak a proper look. Judging by his qualifications, he’d have to be at least in his mid-thirties, but he appeared younger. He was undeniably handsome in a rugged sort of way. Unruly dark curls framed a tanned face with just a smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose. She had been right first time—he really did look like an overgrown medical student.

‘How long did you work there? I know it’s in your résumé, but I can’t remember offhand.’

‘Five years, three as Unit Manager. I’d just left all my family behind in England, so I was feeling horribly homesick and foreign.’

‘Had you been to Australia before?’

Olivia nodded. ‘Yes but just on a working holiday, which is when I met my...’ Olivia hesitated. ‘My ex-fiancé. He was an intern then. Anyway,’ Olivia added hastily, because the last thing she wanted to talk about was Jeremy, ‘Mr Dean started within a couple of weeks of me. We were the “new kids on the block” together.’

‘Why did you leave?’ His question was direct and he watched as her shoulders stiffened, her hands yet again tightening convulsively around the glass.

‘Personal reasons,’ she answered stiffly.

Thankfully, he thought better than to push it—there would be time for that later. Instead, he explained her new position.

‘A contrast to Casualty, but there are a lot of similarities. As well as the usual coughs, colds and blood pressures, we’re up against whatever they present themselves with at any hour of the day or night. From heart attacks to major farming accidents, we’re the front line. You need to keep your wits about you. They breed them tough out here and they don’t like a fuss. It takes a lot of skill to read between the lines. What may appear quite trivial can often be far more serious. Most tend to play down their symptoms.’ He noticed her suppress a yawn.

‘I’m not boring you, I hope?’ he asked sharply.

Olivia sat upright, taken back by the first glimpse of him being anything other than friendly. ‘Of course not.’

Clem stood up, and Olivia reluctantly admired his athletic build. ‘You must be tired. You’ve had a long journey and it’s almost midnight. I seem to think everyone else keeps my ridiculous hours. I’ll let you get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning, Livvy.’

‘It’s Olivia, not Livvy,’ she corrected him, following him to the door. ‘And thank you for coming over, Dr Clemson. I’m looking forward to getting started.’

‘Good. Hopefully you’ll enjoy working here. And it’s Clem, remember?’

Olivia suddenly felt embarrassed at how prudish she must have sounded, but she hated her name being shortened.

She watched him depart in long deliberate strides.

‘Watch out for Betty and Ruby. Don’t believe a word they say about me,’ he shouted jokingly over his shoulder as he disappeared into the night.

As Olivia closed the door and firmly locked it, Clem rolled his eyes heavenwards. She wouldn’t last five minutes. She was obviously well qualified and extremely intelligent, but she was as jumpy as a cat, and he somehow couldn’t imagine her on a search and rescue. Sure, she looked stunning, he thought reluctantly then checked himself. She was probably anorexic—you didn’t get a figure like that on three good meals a day.