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The Outback Nurse
CAROL MARINELLI


A job in the bush!Sister Olivia Morrell started her new job in the Outback with some trepidation. She'd wanted to get away from it all but, in isolated Kimjong, there was only one doctor. And by all accounts, Dr. Clemson made a moody and difficult boss!Clem began to suspect his new nurse had come to Kimjong to get over a broken heart. But that didn't prevent his attraction to her! Perhaps if Olivia had to learn that not all men were unreliable, he could be the one to teach her…









‘Why don’t you take tomorrow off?’


Olivia shook her head.

‘Well, at the very least have a lie-in. Come in a bit later—we’ll manage.’

‘I couldn’t do that. I’ve got this frightful boss, you see. You wouldn’t believe the fuss he makes.’

Clem laughed. ‘I really am sorry about this morning. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but I will try. I don’t ever want to make a promise to you and break it.’

The strangest thing considering her total distrust in men, was that she really believed him.

He moved towards her again, all the time gazing deeply into her eyes. There was no mistaking his intention. He was going to kiss her properly. She could feel her pulse pounding in her temples as his warm hands tenderly cupped her face. But before his full, sensual lips met hers, the urgent sound of his pager rudely interrupted the moment.


Carol Marinelli did her nursing training in England and then worked for a number of years in Casualty. A holiday romance while backpacking led to her marriage and emigration to Australia. Eight years and three children later, the romance continues…

Today she considers both England and Australia her home. The sudden death of her father prompted a reappraisal of her life’s goals and inspired her to tackle romance writing seriously.




The Outback Nurse


Carol Marinelli
















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




CONTENTS


Chapter One (#ub938c173-0483-58b4-8e2e-e70cc6e1fd8f)

Chapter Two (#u7139dd0a-59b8-5860-aa7f-8a8c86bf9563)

Chapter Three (#ud8d5be7b-7e92-50ba-beef-d5c69c8df094)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE


‘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.




CHAPTER TWO


OLIVIA awoke an hour before her alarm, determined to get the day off to a good start. Dougie had been right—the house was freezing. Reluctant to light a fire, instead she pulled on a pair of socks and a large jumper over her skimpy silk nightie and turned on the tiny fan heater. Jeremy would have had a heart attack if he could have seen her. Not sure how or where she’d get lunch, Olivia took advantage of the well-stocked fridge and prepared an enormous breakfast of bacon, eggs and wild mushrooms.

Mopping up the creamy yolk with a third slice of toast, she tried to decide what to wear for her first day. The usual white uniform seemed so formal, and according to the forecast it was going to be too hot for trousers. Settling on a pair of navy culottes, teamed with a white blouse and navy jacket, Olivia finally felt happy with her selection—smart but casual. She was nervous. What if the patients hated her?

With shaking hands, somehow she managed to put on her make-up, carefully trying to create a natural look. It had been a standing joke between herself and Jessica, the effort Olivia took over her appearance.

‘Honestly, Olivia, you look smarter coming off duty than I do going on,’ she’d often joked and Olivia would laugh back.

But her appearance was important to her. It had mattered so much to Jeremy that eventually it had rubbed off. Somehow she felt so much more confident with her ‘face’ on. After smoothing the wild mass of Titian ringlets into a chic French roll, she was finally satisfied.

‘G’day. It’s only me, Ruby.’

Olivia walked into the hall and watched as a huge woman burst through the front door. She had a mass of keys in her hand, as well as an array of brushes, a bucket and mop.

‘Here let me help you with that,’ Olivia offered.

‘I’m right.’ Ruby deposited her burdens on the hall floor. ‘So you’re Livvy? Dougie said you were a beaut, he wasn’t wrong. I’ll fix us a nice cup of tea before I get started. Youse must be feeling a touch nervous but, no worries, I’ll take youse over and introduce you to everyone.’

Ruby was truly amazing to watch. Without even pausing for breath, she had taken Olivia’s arm and seated her at the kitchen table then proceeded to fill the kettle.

‘How are you finding it—a bit bewildering?’

‘Just a bit,’ Olivia conceded.

‘Oh, we’re a strange lot, that’s for sure. The other nurses took one look and ran. Didn’t even see the week out.’ She eyed Olivia carefully.

‘Well, I’m here for a lot longer than that, I can assure you,’ Olivia responded with more conviction than she felt.

‘Yep, I reckon you are. But a word of advice from an old chook who’s been around the yard a while.’ She leant over the kitchen bench and, despite the fact there was only the two of them, spoke in a theatrical whisper. ‘Don’t go letting the doctor upset you. Clem’s bark is far worse than his bite.’

Although curious, Olivia felt she really shouldn’t be discussing her employer.

‘He seems very nice,’ she answered noncommittally, though she secretly hoped Ruby would elaborate. Olivia didn’t have to wait long!

‘Oh he’s golden. He snaps and snarls now and then but I just picture him as a spotty young teenager. I don’t tell him that, mind, I just say “Yes, Clem, no, Clem,” and wait for his mood to pass—it soon does.’

‘Everyone has their off days.’

‘Of course, but he’s got worse. It’s to be expected, mind, with all he’s been through. He’s far too busy, and now with this new hospital and everything. I just don’t know how he does it. He’s always had a temper, but since Kathy passed on...’ She blew her nose loudly on a hanky she’d fished from somewhere in her very ample bosom. ‘Tragic, there’s no other word for it.’

Olivia looked on, fascinated. This woman never stopped talking though she was busy all the while. The breakfast dishes were now washed and back in their various cupboards and the bench had been wiped down.

‘It must be difficult for him,’ Olivia agreed. ‘He’s very young to be a widower.’

‘Whoever said only the good die young wasn’t wrong. A real living angel was Kathy. And he’s not coping. I don’t care how many times he tells me he’s all right—I know he’s not.’

Olivia tried to steer the conversation. It really was getting too personal. ‘I hear it’s very busy at the surgery.’

‘Tragic,’ Ruby muttered, then, blowing her nose again, she stuffed the hanky back into her cleavage. ‘Oh, the surgery’s busy all right. Far too much work for the one doctor. It will be great when we get the hospital. A lot of the locals are opposed to it but they’ll soon come round. They’re just scared of change, and they’ll be wary of you, too,’ she added, ‘with that English accent and your city ways. But youse’ll soon win them over.’

‘I hope so,’ Olivia answered glumly.

‘Of course you will,’ Ruby reassured her. ‘Now, come on, sweetie, we can’t be here gossiping all day. You don’t want to go making a bad impression.’

Walking over to the surgery, Ruby linked her arm through Olivia’s. Really, Ruby was getting more maternal by the minute. Of course, just to add to Olivia’s nerves, the waiting room was full. As they entered the chattering stopped and Olivia felt every face turn to her. Smiling tentatively, painfully aware of a deep blush spreading over her cheeks, she wanted to turn and run. Sitting at the desk was a middle-aged, harassed-looking woman with frizzy grey hair that had never seen conditioner.

‘Thank goodness you’re here,’ she said as a welcome. ‘I’ll just let the doctor know.’

‘Now, just settle a minute, Betty.’ Ruby blocked her desk. ‘There’s always time for an introduction. This is Sister Olivia Morrell and, Sister, this is Betty. She’s the receptionist here and chief cook and bottle-washer.’

‘Isn’t that a fact?’ muttered Betty. ‘I’m sorry, Sister. It’s lovely to meet you, and not a moment too soon—the place is fit to burst as usual. Clem’s needed over at the Hudsons. Apparently the old boy had another turn,’ she added in low tones to a very attentive Ruby.

Olivia was sure that Betty shouldn’t be discussing the patients with the housekeeper, but she was obviously in for a few surprises. The bush telegraph would appear somewhat similar to the hospital grapevine, and that took some beating. Even the switchboard staff had apparently known about Jeremy and Lydia.

‘Anyway,’ said Betty with a smile, ‘we’ll get there.’ She nodded as a young woman came out of what appeared to be the consulting room. ‘I’ll take you through to Clem.’

As Olivia walked in, she noticed how much smarter Clem looked than on their first meeting. He was wearing beige trousers and a navy sports jacket, and a tie was sitting awkwardly on his thick neck. His black curls were smoother and she caught a whiff of cologne as he stood up and once again shook her hand warmly.

‘Good morning, Livvy. It’s good to have you on board.’

Olivia winced but Clem didn’t notice.

‘I did want to take some time to show you around but, as you can see from the waiting room, we’re pretty full on.’

‘That’s all right, I’ll manage,’ she replied in what she hoped was an enthusiastic voice.

‘Good girl.’

Olivia winced again as he nodded appreciatively. She didn’t have to be a genius to see that Clem wasn’t particularly politically correct.

‘I’m sorry to throw you in at the deep end but I see from your résumé that you can suture, which is an absolute luxury for me. I’ve never had a nurse here that can stitch and, frankly, I’ve never had the time to teach them.’

‘As long as the wound is examined by you before and after I suture, that’s fine.’

Clem nodded dismissively. ‘Well, in the treatment room I’ve got Alex Taylor. He’s gashed his hand on some barbed wire while mending a fence. I’ve had a look and there doesn’t appear to be any nerve or tendon damage, but the wound in itself is quite jagged and dirty and will need a lot of cleaning and debriding. If you could get started on him, that would be a great help. Buzz me when you’re finished or if you’ve any concerns.’

‘Right...’ Olivia hesitated. ‘I’ll get started, then.’

‘Good. He also needs a tetanus shot,’ Clem added, more as an afterthought, then, picking up his fountain pen, started to write on a patient’s file in a huge, untidy scrawl. Olivia stood there, not sure where to go. He hadn’t exactly given her a guided tour of the place.

‘Was there anything else?’ he asked, without bothering to look up.

‘Er, no,’ she replied hesitantly. He obviously wasn’t going to hold her hand. Perhaps Betty could show her where the treatment room and the equipment was. But back in the waiting room Betty was looking even more harassed than before. The phone was ringing incessantly, while she tried to force an uncooperative piece of paper into the fax machine. Oh, well, she’d just have to find her own way.

Alex was infinitely patient.

‘No worries, Sister,’ he said, adding reassuringly a little later, ‘Take your time, Sister, I’m in no hurry.’

Olivia bustled about, trying to find suture packs and local anaesthetic. Finally, with her trolley laid out and her hands scrubbed, she was ready to start.

‘Right, Alex, I’m with you now.’

‘Right you are, Sister.’ The elderly man nodded.

Olivia examined the wound carefully. Clem was right. It was indeed a nasty cut, very deep with untidy jagged edges and very dirty. After waiting for the local anaesthetic she had injected to take effect, Olivia once again inspected the wound, this time more thoroughly. The tendon and its sheath were visible, but thankfully intact.

‘Alex, everything looks all right in there. I’m just going to give it a good clean and then I’ll stitch it up. You shouldn’t feel any pain, but if it does start to hurt you be sure and tell me.’

‘Very good, Sister.’

Olivia was quite sure he wouldn’t. Alex hadn’t even let out a murmur while she’d injected the anaesthetic. ‘Dr Clemson said you were repairing a fence?’

‘Yep. The sheep were getting out and wandering off. I was gonna wait for me grandson to fix it, but he’s away at uni till the holidays and I can’t be doing chasing the stupid things. I’m too old for that.’ He went on to tell Olivia about his farm and how his grandson was studying agriculture. She encouraged the conversation to take Alex’s mind off his hand. Anyway, it was interesting to hear what he had to say.

‘He’s forever coming back from uni, full of new ideas and notions about what he wants to do with the land.’

‘And does that worry you?’

‘’Struth, no,’ Alex answered firmly. ‘I’m all for progress. Mind, I’m too set in me ways to be changing things myself. But as for the young fella, he can do what he likes as far as I’m concerned. Farming’s big business now it’s a science.’ He laughed. ‘It’ll all be his one day and I’m just glad he wants it. Not many young folk stay now. You just look at Clem. He wanted to stay in the city and carry on his work with the children.’

‘But he came back,’ Olivia ventured, curious despite herself at the insight into her boss. She had finished cleaning the hand and debriding the dead tissue. Aligning the edges, she started to suture.

‘Old Dr Clemson—Clem’s father—went to pieces after his wife died. His health started to fail. Clem came back to help out. He’s a good sort, not like his brother Joshua—he didn’t even make it in time for his own mother’s funeral. Anyway, then the old fella died, God rest him. By then, though, young Clem had fallen in love with Kathy, and she would never have considered leaving here. She loved Kirrijong and it loved her.’ Alex winced slightly and Olivia wasn’t sure whether it was from pain or emotion.

‘Is that sore, Alex? The anaesthetic is starting to wear off, but I’m just about finished now.’

‘I’m all right,’ he said, then continued his tale. ‘Kathy belonged here, and for a while so did Clem.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, he’s busy with building the hospital and he’s flat out here, but I don’t reckon his heart’s in it. I know he’s grieving and I reckon the place has just got too many painful memories for him. I reckon we’ll be lucky if he stays.’

Olivia’s eyes suddenly misted over. Poor Clem. She knew all about painful memories and being alone. But if Jeremy had died? To totally lose someone... She wondered how Clem even managed to get up in the morning. At that moment she heard Clem walk into the room. He stood over her as she tied the last knot, surveying her work. The bitter tang of his cologne was a heady contrast to the chlorhexidine solution she was using on Alex’s wound. Acutely aware of his closeness, her hand trembled slightly as she snipped the silk thread. Clem let out a low whistle and shook his head.

‘You’ve made a rod for your own back Livvy. I couldn’t have done a better job myself. You’ll be doing all the suturing now. Right you are, then, Alex. Keep it clean and dry, and I’ll see you again in a week. Here’s a script for some antibiotics—that’s a nasty cut and we don’t want it getting infected. Any problems in the meantime and you’re to come straight back.’

Alex rolled up his sleeve as Olivia approached with his tetanus shot. ‘Right you are, Clem.’ He got up from the trolley and added, ‘I hope you don’t go scaring this one off—she’s a diamond.’

Olivia blushed but Clem laughed.

‘I’ll try not to.’ He shook Alex’s good hand and reminded him once again to return if needed.

‘Bye, then, Sister. Thanks very much.’

‘No, thank you Alex, for being so patient.’ She smiled warmly at him and hoped all her patients would be as pleasant.

The rest of the morning passed in a whirl of dressings, recording ECGs and taking blood. An old lady eyed Olivia dubiously as she sat her down and produced a tourniquet.

‘Clem normally takes my blood. I’ve got very difficult veins, you know.’

Taking a deep breath, Olivia forced a smile and assured the woman she knew what she was doing, adding, ‘Dr Clemson is so busy this morning he didn’t want to keep you sitting around, waiting for him, when you’ve probably got far better things to do.’

This seemed to appease her and grudgingly the woman offered her arm. Thankfully the needle went straight in.

Finally the last of the patients had been dealt with. Despite this, Betty still had to shepherd out a group of ladies from the waiting room who were conducting an impromptu mothers’ meeting. Firmly closing the door, Betty let out an exaggerated sigh. ‘They’ll be wanting me to serve them tea and biscuits next. Come on, Sister, it’s time for lunch.’

Leading Olivia through the surgery to the private part of the house she took her into the lounge room. Again, it was beautifully furnished, the walls lined with books, heavy drapes blocking out the harsh midday sun. Kathy must have used her talents in here as well. In one of the huge jade leather chairs, which clashed ravishingly with the dark crimson rug, sat a fat ginger cat. In the other chair, looking equally relaxed, sat Clem. His tie loosened, he was working his way through a large pile of sandwiches.

‘Come in, come in. Ruby’s done us proud as always— help yourself,’ he said, offering her a plate. ‘Don’t wait to be asked or there won’t be anything left. Isn’t that right, Betty?’

Always conscious of eating in front of strangers and still full from her large breakfast, Olivia picked gingerly at a huge roast beef sandwich Betty had cheerfully put on her plate.

‘Coffee, Sister?’

‘Thank you, Betty, and, please, it’s Olivia, remember.’

‘Cream and sugar, Sister?’ she asked, completely ignoring her request.

Didn’t anybody here use the right name?

‘No, just black will be fine.’

Clem raised his eyebrows. ‘I’d suggest you tuck in, Livvy, we’ve got a busy afternoon ahead of us. I don’t know what time we’ll finish.’

‘But I had a huge breakfast,’ Olivia protested, then, seeing the expression on their faces, she hastily took a bite.

A talk show was on television, wives confronting their husbands’ mistresses. That was all she needed.

Betty was lecturing her on the benefits of thermal underwear for night calls. ‘It can be cold at night if you have to go out in a hurry,’ she said, looking disapprovingly at Olivia’s skinny legs. A psychologist on the television show was banging on about how wives often let themselves go after they got married. Jeremy had certainly accused her of that and they hadn’t even made it up the aisle!

‘I’m quite sure Olivia wouldn’t be seen dead in thermals. Isn’t that right?’ Clem teased.

Olivia thought glumly of the small fortune she had spent on sexy underwear in an attempt to resuscitate her and Jeremy’s dying sex life. All to no avail. ‘Dr Clemson— Clem,’ Olivia said curtly, ‘as friendly as you’ve all been, I’m sure you wouldn’t expect me to discuss my underwear—or was there something in my job description I didn’t read?’

Betty coughed nervously; the television blared out the merits of keeping an air of mystery in the bedroom. Clem merely threw his head back and laughed loudly.

‘Good for you. We’re far too familiar here. Come on, we’ve got work to do.’ And picking up the half-eaten sandwich left on her plate, he took a huge bite. Olivia watched distastefully and stood up.

‘And if I’m not being too personal,’ Clem said with more than a hint of sarcasm, ‘may I suggest you go and put on some sunscreen and a hat? Half my house calls seem to be done in the middle of a field. Some insect repellent might be useful, too.’

Outside, he handed her the keys to a large black four-wheel-drive.

‘This is yours, but I’ll drive today, give you a chance to get your bearings. Just put the petrol on my account at the garage.’

‘Wonderful.’ That was a relief. She had been beginning to wonder if ‘transport provided’ might mean a bus pass.

‘Before we head off I’ll just show you the set-up.’ He opened the back door. ‘As you can see, I’ve got all the back seats down. It’s better to keep it like that so if the need arises you can transfer someone supine. There’s a camp-bed mattress rolled up in the corner there, with a pillow and some blankets.’ He opened up a large medical emergency box. ‘I’ll run through the box. Pay attention— you don’t know when you might need it.’

Olivia bristled. She was only too aware of the importance of the equipment Clem was showing her—he hardly needed to tell her to listen.

‘All the usual emergency drugs and intravenous solutions, all clearly labelled—giving sets, needles, syringes.’ He took out each piece of equipment in turn, gave her a short lecture on its use and then replaced it. Olivia stood there, silently fuming. While she appreciated him showing her the contents, he was talking to her as if she were a first-year nursing student. ‘An intubation kit,’ Clem stated as he held up a plastic box clearly marked INTUBATION KIT.

‘Is it?’

Clem chose to ignore her, instead painstakingly going through the various tube sizes and the appropriate ages they would be used on. Olivia automatically picked up the laryngoscope and checked that the bulb was working—it would be no fun attempting to put an intubation tube down an unconscious patient’s throat if the light didn’t work.

‘There’s spare bulbs here, but check it weekly. Have you ever intubated a patient before?’ Clem enquired.

‘Yes, several, but only in a controlled setting. Mr Dean insisted his senior nursing staff knew how, just in case. Anyway, it helps assisting doctors if you’ve done it yourself.’ She thought for a moment. ‘But I’ve never intubated anyone without supervision.’ Clem heard the note of tension creep into her voice.

‘And hopefully you won’t have to. You can always bag them until help arrives, but who knows what can happen? At least you know your way around the kit. You can have a go, that’s got to be better than doing nothing and watching someone die.’ Olivia nodded glumly, not for the first time wondering just what she had taken on.

‘Now the defibrillator. It’s pretty standard, you can run a three-channel ECG off this model—’

‘I’ve used that type before,’ Olivia interrupted.

‘Here’s the on-off switch,’ Clem continued, blatantly ignoring her again. ‘Keep it plugged in overnight to charge it, but just run the cord through the Jeep window into the garage wall. Are you listening? I hope you’re taking all this in,’ he snapped rudely.

‘I’ve used a defibrillator before—this model, in fact. I know what I’m doing.’

‘I’m sure you do,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘but when I ring you at one in the morning to come and assist me in an emergency, I need to be sure you know exactly where all the equipment is and how it works. It’s no good you driving off in a hurry and leaving the bloody defibrillator still charging on the garage floor.’

‘Obviously not,’ Olivia retorted. She was nervous enough about her new responsibilities, without him treating her like the village idiot. ‘I’m grateful to you for showing me things, but I really don’t need a total re-train. If I don’t know or understand something then I’ll ask.’ She stood there resolutely, staring defiantly into his angry, haughty face, awaiting his wrath, but it never came.

‘Well, just make sure you do,’ he said after what seemed an age. Turning his large back on her, he deftly replaced the equipment.

With her face burning, Olivia made her way to the passenger seat. She knew she had been right to stand up to him. He had to treat her, if not as an equal, at least with some respect.

Climbing into the driver’s seat, he started the ignition. ‘We’ll go the back way. It’s a short cut but don’t use it till you’re comfortable with the Jeep.’ And without looking over once, he gave her a run-down on their first patient. ‘The first port of call is the Jean Hunt, for her postnatal check. She’s just had her fourth baby. A son after three daughters...young Sam. He’s six weeks old now.’ Clem skilfully guided the car around the tight bends.

‘Oh, yes,’ Olivia recalled. ‘Dougie mentioned them. They must be thrilled.’

‘Not exactly,’ Clem replied grimly. ‘Everyone’s thrilled except Mum.’

‘Oh, dear.’

Clem finally glanced over at her, realising she understood the situation.

‘Exactly.’

Olivia remembered only too well the tearful mums on the maternity ward, trying desperately to appear happy to relatives and wondering why on earth they’d been feeling so miserable and unable to cope.

Clem continued, ‘After an extremely long and exhausting labour with a difficult posterior presentation, young Master Hunt entered the world quite healthy, screaming his head off, and he hasn’t stopped since. A complete contrast to the girls, who were the most placid little sheilas you could imagine. Alicia, the youngest, actually had to be woken for her feeds for the first couple of months. Not only does Jean have a husband and three other children to cope with, she’s also dealing with a never-ending stream of well-wishers bringing little blue gifts and telling her how delighted she must be feeling.’

‘Poor thing,’ Olivia sympathised. ‘How’s his weight?’

‘Borderline. He’s gaining, but not as much as I’d like.’

Olivia thought for a moment.

‘Could he have reflux?’ she suggested.

Clem shrugged. ‘I really don’t think so, though I have considered it. I’ve seen a lot of reflux babies but Sam just doesn’t quite fit the picture. I think it’s more Jean.’

‘Is she breastfeeding?’

‘Trying to, but I’m going to suggest she puts him on the bottle today.’

Olivia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How behind was this place? Everyone knew you encouraged breastfeeding.

He looked over again. ‘What’s wrong, you don’t approve?’ Clem parked the car and turned around to face her.

She looked at him properly for the first time, and realised just how attractive he really was. ‘It’s not a question of whether I approve or not. I was taught to promote breastfeeding, that’s all. To give in after such a short time seems strange to me.’

‘Look, I do see your point. Breast is best and all that, but only if it’s working. When it isn’t, the bottle is fantastic.’

Olivia opened her mouth to argue but he cut her short.

‘There’s no breastfeeding mothers’ support group here, no lactation consultant to call in, just the help you and I can offer. You may have only done a morning here, but you can surely see how stretched we are.’ He held up his hand to silence her as she again attempted to put her point. ‘Let me finish, then you can have your say.’

Olivia snapped her mouth closed and folded her arms.

‘I’ve been round nearly every day since Sam was born, but there’s not much more I can do. He’s healthy, he’s just hungry. For whatever reason, breastfeeding just isn’t working this time. Anyway, Jean’s far more experienced than you or I—after all, she’s successfully fed three children. It’s a bit like taking snow to the Eskimos, offering her advice on her feeding technique.’

Olivia grudgingly nodded.

‘And as chauvinistic as it may sound to a liberated young woman like yourself, Mr Hunt will be back from a hard day’s work at the farm this evening. He’ll want to come back to a tidy house and a meal. It doesn’t mean he loves her any less than the sensitive twenty-first century men you may mix with, it’s just the way it is here. And I can tell you now that Jean isn’t going to take a stand for sisterhood and to heck with routine.’

Olivia digested his speech. She actually understood far more than he realised. She herself had desperately wanted to start a family as soon as they’d got married. But as with their elusive wedding date, Jeremy had wanted to wait, for what she hadn’t been quite sure. The thought of Jeremy coming home to a messy house, a crying baby and a hysterical mother made her realise he wasn’t the modern, liberated man he liked to think he was. Taking her silence as dissent Clem went further.

‘I could prescribe anti-depressants or tell her to hang in there till things improve, but I’m not prepared to do that, at least not this early in the piece. That’s not the kind of medicine I practise.’

And despite the fact she had indeed only worked a morning with him, Olivia knew that already. It was obvious from the adoration of his patients that he was a wonderful caring doctor. Still, she wasn’t prepared to give in that easily. ‘I still think you should go in there with an open mind,’ she said defiantly, but, watching his face darken, wished she’d held her tongue. She probably wouldn’t last the week out, like her predecessors.

‘May I suggest something?’ Clem said slowly.

‘Of course.’ Olivia nodded weakly. Perhaps he was going to tell her to remember her place.

‘Maybe it should be you that goes in to the house with an open mind. In fact, why don’t you decide what Jean should do?’ he suggested.

‘And if I don’t come down on your side, you’ll simply override me,’ she retorted.

Clem shook his head. ‘You don’t know me very well. Of course, I could override you but I won’t. It’s your call.’ He picked up his doctor’s bag, effectively ending the conversation, and got out of the vehicle. Striding to the front door, Olivia had to half run to keep up with him. Knocking firmly, he turned. ‘Remember, an open mind.’

Jean Hunt opened the door still in her dressing-gown, her hair unbrushed, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

‘Oh, Clem, I’m so glad you’re here. He’s been screaming all morning.’ She ushered them through to the family room, apologising for the mess. The house was in chaos. Toys littered the floor and piles of washing lay over the chairs and sofa. The morning’s breakfast dishes were still on the breakfast bar. ‘Please, sit down,’ she said to Olivia, removing a pile of nappies.

Clem peered into the crib. ‘He’s asleep now.’

‘Yes, but it won’t last.’ Her eyes brimmed. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea?’

Clem turned to Olivia. Taking her cue, she jumped up.

‘I’ll sort out the tea. Why don’t you let Clem examine you while Sam is asleep?’

Clem nodded appreciatively.

‘He’ll be awake before you know it. Six weeks old and he’s hardly slept for more than two hours at a time. The girls were so easy—I just don’t know what it is I’m doing wrong. Brian’s so thrilled at having a boy, he just doesn’t understand...’ Jean’s voice broke and her shoulders shook with emotion.

Clem, towering over her, put his arms around her heaving shoulders and spoke softly. ‘Come on, Jean. Let’s go through to the bedroom and I’ll do your postnatal check, then we’ll sit down over a nice cuppa and try to sort something out.’ Gently he led her away.

After switching on the kettle, Olivia hastily did the breakfast dishes and wiped down the benches. The family room wasn’t dirty, just untidy. She put the toys back into their box and started to sort out the laundry, folding the nappies into a neat pile and placing the rest into the groaning ironing basket. The place looked a lot better, and by the time Clem retuned she had made the tea.

‘Jean’s just getting dressed.’ He raised his eyebrows ‘You’ve been busy.’

Jean was eternally grateful. ‘Sister, you didn’t have to do that.’

‘No problem, Jean. I’m glad to help.’

While they drank their tea, Jean, in a faltering voice, told them her problems. ‘If I could just get a decent sleep and the house in order I’d be all right, but Sam takes for ever to feed. Then, when I finally get him off, no sooner have I put him down than he’s awake and screaming again. I’m at my wits end.’ She ran her fingers through her unwashed hair.

‘Does Sam have any long sleeps at all?’ Clem asked.

‘Sometimes, at about five, which is useless for me. The girls are home from school then, wanting their tea, and then Brian gets in. As the girls go off to bed up gets the little fella, and that’s me for the rest of the night, trying to keep him quiet so that Brian can get a good sleep.’

‘Could Brian get up to him for a couple of nights, at the weekend perhaps so you could get a break?’ Olivia volunteered. ‘Perhaps if you expressed some milk?’

Jean shook her head. ‘He’s up at five a.m. to go to the farm. It’s the same at weekends—the cows still need milking. I can’t expect him to be awake at night with the kids.’

Olivia finally realised the woman’s predicament. Just then Sam stirred and let out a piercing cry, which made them all jump. It was amazing just how much noise a small baby could make. Clem picked up the infant as Jean started to weep.

‘What’s wrong with him, Clem?’

‘Put him to your breast, Jean, and let me see you feed him.’ Olivia spoke calmly, and Clem handed Sam to his mother. The irate baby arched his back and butted against Jean’s breast, searching frantically for and finding her nipple. He latched on and mercifully relaxed. Making little whimpering noises, he suckled hungrily.

‘Very good, Jean, you’re doing wonderfully,’ Clem encouraged. ‘Just try and relax.’ At that point Sam let out a furious wail and the angry protest started again.

Jean was just about at breaking point. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ she screamed above the ear-splitting shrieks of her son.

Olivia walked over and gently took the baby from the distraught woman. The baby snuffled against her. Olivia felt his hot, angry little face against hers, breathing in the familiar baby smell. Rocking Sam, gently trying to soothe him, she contemplated Jean’s situation. For all her knowledge and training she had no real experience. Here was a woman who had borne four babies to her nil. She had a husband and children to care for and a house she was proud of. The well-rehearsed platitudes of ‘persevere’ and ‘things will get better’ seemed woefully inadequate. Olivia could see what was wrong. Jean had plenty of milk but she wasn’t letting down, probably because she was too tense. Appearances mattered, and to tell this woman to ignore the housework and concentrate on the baby, to get a take-away and not worry about dinner, would be like speaking a foreign language. Heck, there wasn’t a burger bar for two hundred kilometres.

Clem watched Olivia closely as she rocked the baby. Sam rooted hopefully and, finding her finger, sucked hungrily, but again there came the same wail of frustration.

‘He’s hungry, Jean,’ Olivia said.

‘He can’t be. I fed him just an hour ago. You saw me just try—that’s not what he wants.’

Olivia gently but firmly explained about the letdown reflex. ‘It’s automatic in some women, as it was for you with the girls. But anxiety, tension, lack of sleep—any one of these can affect it. It’s a vicious circle. The more Sam cries, the harder it is for you to relax and for your milk to get through. Have you considered trying him with some formula?’

‘But breast milk’s best—everyone says so,’ Jean protested.

‘A contented mum and baby are what’s important. Anyway, giving him a bottle now doesn’t automatically mean you have to give up on breastfeeding. Perhaps after a couple of feeds and a good sleep you’ll be ready to do battle again. You could maybe give him a bottle at night and concentrate on breastfeeding in the day. There are lots of options. Even if he does end up on the bottle, you’ve given Sam your colostrum in the first few days, which is full of antibodies, and he’s had six weeks on the breast. You’ve done very well.’

‘What do you think?’ Jean turned to Clem.

‘I totally agree with Livvy.’ He stood up. ‘I’ve got some formula samples in the car. Why don’t you make him up a bottle and we’ll see how he goes?’

Half an hour later a much happier Jean cuddled her satisfied son. Young Master Sam made contented little noises.

‘Feeling better now?’ Clem enquired.

‘Much, but I’m a bit disappointed.’

‘Well, don’t be,’ Olivia said firmly. ‘Like I said, it might be a different ball game tomorrow. But whatever you do, don’t go getting stressed—just enjoy each other.’

‘Thanks ever so.’ She looked over at Olivia. ‘You’ve both been wonderful.’

‘We haven’t finished yet.’ Clem darted outside and returned with a huge casserole pot. ‘Ruby’s forever trying to fatten me up. There’s more than enough here to feed the family, Jean.’ He took Sam from her and put him gently into the crib. ‘Now, the place is tidier, the baby’s asleep and dinner’s taken care off. You get to bed.’

‘I should get some ironing done,’ Jean protested, but Olivia quickly jumped in.

‘Don’t you dare.’ She shooed her down the hall.

‘I wouldn’t argue with Sister Morrell if I were you, Jean. I’ve a feeling she’d win. Now, off to bed, Doctor’s orders. We’ll see ourselves out.’

Back in the car Clem praised her. ‘You did a great job in there.’

‘Only because I listened to you first,’ Olivia admitted. ‘I shudder to think of the mess I’d have made if you hadn’t forewarned me.’

‘I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself,’ he said kindly. ‘We’ll need to keep a close eye on Jean, make sure things are improving—she’s on a short fuse at the moment. Let me know if you’re worried about her.’ He turned and smiled. ‘It’s good having you on board, Livvy.’

As she opened her mouth to correct him he started the engine. Oh, what was the point? She might just as well get used to it.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. In each home they were made welcome. Despite Clem’s sometimes brutal honesty and arrogant assumptions, it was obvious the patients all adored him. Everywhere they went the patients insisted on making a cup of tea. As if he hadn’t had a drink all day, Clem gratefully accepted and listened as they chatted. Finally, armed with a bag of lemons and some lamingtons, they had finished the rounds.

‘For a day’s work well done, I’ll buy you dinner. It’s time for you to visit the local hotel.’

‘But we can’t. I’m in my work clothes,’ Olivia wailed. The thought of having to talk to him socially terrified her.

‘I’m not intending to get you drunk, I can assure you, but it’s nearly seven already and I’m sure you’re about as keen to cook dinner as I am.’

Driving into the main street, he parked and escorted her straight into a bistro. Gorgeous smells wafted from the kitchen and Olivia realised how hungry she really was. Again Clem was greeted like a long-lost friend.

‘G’day there. The usual, Clem? And what about the young lady?’

‘An orange juice, please.’

Clem remembered his manners and introduced her. ‘This is Olivia Morrell, the new sister at the practice.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Livvy,’ the landlord greeted her cheerfully. Casually holding her elbow, Clem led her over to a table by the window and went back to the bar to fetch their drinks. Olivia gazed out of the window at the miles of land stretched out before her. The road continued far into the horizon. It was magnificent. She wished she were here with Jeremy. It had been so long since they’d been away together or even out for a meal, just the two of them. There had always been work, or a function to attend. Perhaps if she’d insisted, or just gone ahead and booked a weekend away, maybe they could somehow have prevented the mess they were in.

‘Daydreaming?’

Olivia jumped as Clem placed their drinks on the table. ‘I was just admiring the view.’

‘Yes it’s pretty spectacular,’ he agreed. ‘As are the pies here. I took the liberty of ordering for you. They do the best steak pie I’ve ever tasted.’

‘Sounds marvellous.’

Conversation was surprisingly easy. He was very good company, with a wicked, cynical sense of humour. Olivia felt herself start to relax as he told her tales of the locals. The pie, as promised, was spectacular, the sauce rich and spicy. Mopping her plate with a second bread roll, she felt Clem staring at her.

‘What?’ she said, hastily putting down her roll.

‘Nothing. I’m just glad you’re enjoying the food,’ he remarked.

‘And why shouldn’t I be? It’s delicious.’

Clem surprised himself at how much pleasure he took in watching her unwind. For the first time since they’d met she was actually looking at him for more than ten seconds when he spoke. The constant fiddling with her earrings or hair had stopped. He decided to broach a question he had been wondering about. ‘You said last night your “ex-fiancé”. Was the break-up very recent?’ Those stunning green eyes frantically looked over to the bar as if in a silent plea for help, her hand immediately shooting up to her earrings.

‘Yes.’ Olivia replied reluctantly.

‘Were you engaged for long?’

‘We were together five years, engaged for two.’

Clem let out a low whistle. ‘Ouch,’ he said simply, and took a drink of his beer. For a second she thought the conversation was over but he wasn’t letting her off so easily.

‘He’s not exactly a fast mover. Why weren’t you married?’ he probed.

Olivia sighed, wishing he would just drop it. ‘We were happy the way we were, there wasn’t any need to rush,’ she stated, bringing out the old platitudes she had used on her friends and parents so many times in the past.

‘Rubbish,’ Clem said rudely. ‘I have a theory about couples in long engagements and so far I’ve always been right.’ He paused. ‘Do you want to hear it?’

‘Not particularly, but I’ve a feeling I’m going to.’

Clem grinned and continued. ‘One is desperate for the commitment, the other is holding out, but both pretend a long engagement is what they want. It’s the same with couples who live together—there’s always one holding back. Am I right?’

He was, of course, damn him, but she certainly wasn’t going to let him know as much.

‘Actually, no, you’re not. Jeremy’s been under a lot of pressure recently. We were waiting till he made consultant. There wasn’t time to concentrate on a wedding as well.’

‘Well, I’d have made time,’ Clem insisted. ‘I’d have snapped you up years ago.’

It was an innocent statement, made entirely in the context of the conversation, but for some reason Olivia felt herself start to blush. Clem didn’t seem to notice.

‘So what does he think about you being out here?’

‘He doesn’t know.’

‘You’re not some fugitive on the missing persons list, are you?’ The tone of his voice made her look up and she was relieved to see he was smiling.

‘He’s a bit too busy with his new girlfriend, I would think, to be looking for me.’

Clem took a long drink of his beer. ‘So one call from Jeremy and I could lose the only decent nurse this town has seen in months.’

‘I’m more responsible than that,’ Olivia retorted quickly. ‘I’m not just some puppy dog that can be summoned. I’ve accepted the job and I’m aware of my obligations.’

‘Whoa.’ He raised his hands.

‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘as I’ve only been here a day, aren’t you judging me rather hastily?’

‘On the contrary. I believe in first impressions, though I must admit I was wrong about your eating habits.’

Olivia gave him a questioning look but he didn’t elaborate.

‘Kathy always said I knew at a glance...’ He took a hasty sip of his drink and then in a soft voice he continued, ‘Kathy was my wife. She died,’ he said simply. Now it was his turn to avoid her gaze.

‘I heard. I’m so sorry. How long ago?’

‘It will be two years in a few months, but the way it feels it might just as well have been yesterday.’ He drained his glass. ‘Hold onto your heart, Livvy, because you only get hurt in the end. I sometimes wonder if the pleasure of being in love is worth the pain.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Listen to us two lonely hearts getting maudlin.’ The carefree shift in his tone did nothing to disguise the sadness hanging in the air. ‘Can I get you another drink?’

Olivia reached for her purse. ‘No, it’s my turn. I’m going to have a coffee.’ Like her, he obviously didn’t want to talk about his loss. The difference was, she was too polite to push it. ‘Can I get you one?’

Clem shook his head.

‘Another beer, then, or a cup of tea perhaps?’ she offered.

‘Olivia, sit down a moment. There’s something I must tell you,’ Clem said in a serious voice. She tentatively sat down. What on earth could it be?

‘You must promise not to tell any of the patients this. If it were to get out, so many people would be offended.’

Olivia nodded nervously. Whatever was he going to say? She’d only known him five minutes.

He leant over the table, taking her hand and drawing her nearer, looking around to make sure nobody could hear. Leaning forward, she listened intently.

‘I hate tea. Absolutely loathe the stuff, and every day I’m forced to drink gallons.’

‘What?’ Olivia looked up at him, startled. Was that it? Throwing his head back, he started to laugh, so loudly, in fact, that a few of their fellow diners turned around, smiling, to see what was so funny. Unperturbed, he carried on until finally she joined in. It had been so long since she’d truly laughed and, what’s more, she marvelled, it felt wonderful.




CHAPTER THREE


SITTING at her kitchen table, Olivia attempted to pen a reply to Jessica’s letter. A niggling sore throat which had been troubling her for a couple of days seemed to have come out in force. Pulling a face as she downed some soluble aspirin, Olivia reread Jessica’s letter. Although apparently still full on with Lydia, Jeremy was pestering Jessica to find out where Olivia had moved to. She took some solace when she read how awful he was looking—black rings under his eyes, unironed shirts, creased suits and snapping at everyone. Which was most unlike Jeremy, who saved his mood swings for the home front. At work he was calm, unruffled and totally pleasant to one and all.

Perhaps he was actually missing her, realising what a terrible mistake he’d made. What if he did get in touch? Could she take him back after all he’d put her through? Olivia knew the answer should be no, yet a part of her couldn’t let go. He had been her first real relationship, her first and only lover. The reason she had left her family and friends in England and travelled to the other side of the world. Letting go just wasn’t that easy.

She had been in Kirrijong a month now. The locals were starting to accept her. Alex had returned to have his sutures removed, bringing her a bunch of proteas and several bottles of home-made tomato sauce. Her fridge and pantry groaned with the weight of home-made wines and chutneys, nectarines and lemons. They waved as she passed in her black Jeep and had started to make appointments to see her without Clem. It felt good to be liked and wanted. Yet each night she crept into the huge wooden bed and, while hating herself for being so weak, longed to feel Jeremy’s arms around her, ached for the warmth of human touch.

It was Wednesday and she wasn’t due on duty till eleven. Normally Olivia arrived early anyway, there was always more than enough work to do, but she had allowed herself the luxury of a lie-in and the chance to catch up on some letters. She hadn’t been feeling herself at all lately. Initially Olivia had assumed it had been the pressure she was under, but now, with this niggling throat and persistent headaches, she began to suspect she was coming down with the same flu that seemed to be sweeping the rest of the town. Yelping as she noticed the clock edging past ten-thirty, Olivia dressed quickly. The morning had caught up with her.

Breezing into the surgery bang on eleven, she smiled confidently at the now mostly familiar faces.

‘Morning, Betty. Are these for me?’ Picking up a pile of patients’ files, she started to flick through them.

‘Yes. One’s for stitching—he’s out the back. And there’s an ECG that needs doing—Clem wants it done as soon as you arrive. And a word of warning—he’s not in the sunniest of moods this morning.’

Olivia raised her eyebrows. So she was finally going to see the legendary dark side of the good Dr Clemson.

‘He came in like a bear with a sore head this morning and then, to make matters worse, her ladyship arrived.’

‘Her ladyship?’ Olivia enquired, not having a clue whom Betty was talking about.

‘Oh you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting his lady friend, Charlotte, have you?’

‘His lady friend?’ Olivia recalled the first night she had arrived in Kirrijong, when Clem had failed to meet her. Funny, although she’d heard what Dougie had said, by the way Clem had spoken about Kathy she’d just assumed there was no one else. Anyway, it didn’t matter to her who he went out with, of course it didn’t, Olivia thought firmly. She was just surprised, that’s all.

‘If you can call her a lady.’ Betty lowered her voice. ‘What he sees in her I’ll never—’ She coughed suddenly and started to shuffle some papers. ‘Speak of the devil.’

Clem held open his door and Olivia felt her jaw drop for there, walking out of his office and looking completely out of place in a doctor’s surgery in the middle of the bush, was six feet in heels of absolute drop-dead gorgeous sophistication.

Dressed in an immaculate white suit, her skirt at mid-thigh revealing the longest bronze legs imaginable, Charlotte Ross sauntered over to the desk, tossing her raven black mane. There was arrogance about her, an air of superiority, that, Olivia guessed, came when you were that beautiful. She looked straight through Olivia and Betty and picked up the telephone, barking orders at Dougie who doubled as the local taxi. She shook a cigarette out of her packet. Olivia felt her temper rise. Surely she wasn’t going to light up here? Charlotte obviously had some discretion, though, and put the cigarette back in the pack.




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