Читать книгу A Doctor, A Fling & A Wedding Ring - Fiona McArthur - Страница 8

TARA MCWILLIAMS walked away from the tent but the whispering sobs of grief from the widower followed her like the relentless harshness of Africa followed her clients. The sound of heartbreak. Losing a young wife and child because by the time they’d walked here it had been too late for Tara to be able to help.

A tiny insect flew into her eye and as she brushed it away she wished she could summon up some tears. Doug’s hand rested gently on her shoulder and she reached up to cover the wrinkled skin, offering comfort. Just to feel life beneath her fingers.

Douglas Curlew squeezed her shoulder. ‘You’re done, Tara. No more.’

Tara pushed the limp hair off her forehead and sighed as Doug’s fingers fell away. ‘I’m fine.’

Doug glanced back over his shoulder towards the tent. ‘You’re not fine, you’re mentally exhausted, physically frail and need to get away from here for at least six months, if not permanently. Two years battling to save lives here is enough. Vander wouldn’t have expected it.’

‘We both know he would have.’ She glanced around at the grimy greyness of the tent city. The harsh sun beat down on them from overhead and she shielded her eyes. ‘And I’m not the one who’s left crying.’

‘Maybe you should be. When was the last time you let yourself go?’

A trickle of sweat rolled between her breasts and skittered down to her belly. Not much cleavage there to stop it any more. She lifted her head wearily. ‘I haven’t cried since he died. No time for useless emotion here, is there?’ Tara thought about that and sighed again.

For the first time she glimpsed the truth in Doug’s words. Her body ached with the lethargy of deep exhaustion. She had no doubt she could sleep where she fell.

She almost couldn’t remember why she stayed here. ‘You know as well as I do, Doug, we’re critically understaffed. Who would do my job if I didn’t? That’s why Vander wanted me to stay.’

Doug shrugged philosophically. ‘Vander died eighteen months ago.’ He was more grounded to reality than Tara. ‘Who did the job before you both came?’ He shrugged. ‘The same person who’ll do your job if you burn out completely. The fact is, you’re different from the vibrant young woman you used to be.’

Her chief patted her shoulder and gestured to the sea of tents in the refugee evacuation camp. ‘You’ve done an incredible job for too long. This place has grown from five thousand to eighty thousand. The emergency birth procedures you’ve taught are saving countless lives that would have been lost. The staff you trained will carry on, but they love you and they’re worried, and they’re entitled to care enough to ask you to rest.’

It was almost too much effort to lift her shoulders in a shrug. ‘Okay. I’ll rest.’

Doug’s dog-with-a-bone worrying became even more tenacious. ‘Have a decent holiday at least. A total change of scene.’

‘And do what?’ Tara threw out her hands. ‘I’ve seen so many tragedies here I don’t think I could stop and just sit. Images of all those brave women who’ve died would revolve in my head like a horror film.’

‘That’s exactly what I mean.’ He lowered his thick white Scottish brows and his brogue softened and shifted like the sand beneath their feet. ‘Time to go, Tara. Find a little light relief. I’ve seen staff crash and burn and you’re close. I don’t want that for you.’

And do what? she thought again. Her parents were gone. No significant other. That was a laugh. ‘I can’t just sit. Do nothing. My house is rented, I don’t have a job, there’s nothing in Australia for me.’ Sure, she was different from the wanting-to-do-good and eager-to-learn young woman of two years ago. You couldn’t stay enthusiastic and fresh when you saw birthing women stoically accept they would die because they lived in the wrong part of the world.

‘You don’t have to go all the way home.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Been thinking about that. I’ve a friend who captains a cruise liner due to sail in three days from Rome. Twelve days at a time and their junior doctor broke his leg. He’s willing to rush the paperwork.’

For the first time in a long time Tara felt like laughing but the tinge of hysteria she could feel in her throat gave her pause. Shakily she gathered her control, like grasping at the string of a kite that almost got away. ‘You’re not talking change, Doug, you’re talking a different planet.’

Tara grimaced and tried to imagine herself caring for pampered cruise-line passengers after the horrors she’d seen here in the Sudan. ‘You know how many women out of every thousand women die having babies here, Doug. How could I move to a luxury liner?’

‘It’s the quickest option I can think of. The cruise is less than two weeks long. Then they’ll drop you off in Venice, where they can replace the crew doctor and you can fly home or wherever you want. Or you could stay on and have a working holiday.’

Venice? She’d always wanted to see Venice.

She shook her head. Incomprehensible.

‘And you wouldn’t be treating the passengers as your main priority—the unfortunate guy was the junior and you’d be caring for the crew. The senior would do most of the passenger liaison.’

Still. A luxury liner? After this? ‘I don’t think so.’

Doug stared her down. Not something he would’ve been able to do a year ago. ‘It’s not a suggestion, Tara.’

‘Are you ordering me to leave?’ She raised her brows but her voice wasn’t as steady as she would have liked.

‘Yes. And if I could, I’d order you to indulge in a random dalliance with a cocktail waiter or gym instructor and really let your hair down.’ Doug had one hand on his hips and the other in the air, admonishing.

Now she did laugh and it sounded almost natural. ‘And I always thought of you as a father figure. I can’t ever imagine my father telling me to get laid.’

His finger dropped. ‘I didn’t say that.’ He smiled as he continued, ‘But maybe treating yourself to a bit of pampering, indulging yourself for a week or two, go all out on the massage and happy hour when you’re off duty. I would love to picture that when you drive away.’

‘I’ll think about it.’ Nice dream. Last thing she could imagine but she could pretend.

But Tara’s world shifted as Doug laid down the law. ‘Your driver will be here in the Jeep in four hours to take you to the airport. You fly to Rome, sleep for an extra day, and pick up the ship there. You should have enough time to pack and say goodbye.’

Tara felt the cold wash of reality, of change, and a little of the trepidation new places caused in a woman who just might have forgotten how to be a woman. And just a tiny whisper of relief. She really was getting close to the edge. ‘I can’t leave just like that.’

He looked at her kindly. ‘Can I tell you, in my experience, when you’ve invested as much as you have into this place and with these people, it’s the only way to leave?’