Rescue at Cradle Lake

CHAPTER NINE

RICHARD slept.

Miriam arrived to take over nursing duties from Tony. She didn’t question the fact that there were now three dogs on the place, or that when she arrived Ginny was sitting under the trees with Madison. Heaven knew what Tony told her-probably every single damned thing, including her thoughts, Ginny thought, but she didn’t think it bitterly. Cradle Lake had seemed a prison for years. The community’s intimate knowledge of everyone’s nearest concerns had seemed claustrophobic. Now, suddenly, it seemed like a refuge.

‘You know, Madison’s a very long name,’ she told her niece cautiously as they finished the third reading of ‘A Poky Little Puppy’. Did your mummy call you Madison all the time?’

‘My mummy says Madison’s a lovely name,’ the child whispered. She was lying on the grass beside Ginny. When they’d first started telling stories Madison had been a good foot away. But then one of the dogs-the whippet-had crawled over to drape herself over Ginny’s stomach and Madison had come a little closer when Ginny had encouraged her to pat the dog, and now the child’s little body was hard against Ginny’s. It was a tiny measure of trust but it made Ginny feel…well, that maybe things could work. That maybe things were working. For her as well as for Madison.

‘Did she ever call you Maddy?’

‘Only when she was giggly,’ Madison said.

‘Was she often giggly?’

‘My mummy stopped being giggly,’ Madison whispered. ‘She says the pills took away her giggle. She used to cry.’

‘Sometimes it’s right to cry,’ Ginny said, stroking the little girl’s tousled curls. ‘Sometimes it’s the only way to say goodbye to people. I think your mummy was crying because she knew she was saying goodbye to you.’

‘I didn’t want her to go.’

‘No, but when something’s so wrong that even the doctors can’t make it right then there’s no choice. Your mummy would have stayed with you if she could, but she was too sick. Instead, she brought you here. To be with your daddy for a little bit, to get to know him until he has to say goodbye. Then to be with me. And Miriam and Tony and all these lazy, lazy dogs…’

The whippet chose that moment to turn and give Ginny a slurpy kiss. I hope she’s been wormed, Ginny thought, and then decided there was no way Oscar would have wormed his dogs but maybe worms were the least of their problems.

But she’d worm dogs and everyone associated with dogs right away. A nice uncomplicated piece of medicine.

‘Will we stay here for ever?’ Madison asked, and Ginny stroked her hair some more.

‘Would you like to?’

‘I’d rather stay with my mummy.’

‘You know you can’t do that. But me and the dogs might learn to be OK. You might get to like us.’ She stroked the child’s curls some more, fighting for the right words. ‘Your mummy and your daddy have been unlucky,’ she said at last. ‘I think you won’t have to say goodbye to me for a very long time. So far ahead you can’t even imagine.’

Was it the right thing? ‘Mmm,’ Madison said noncommittally, but her head stayed on Ginny’s lap and she snoozed into sleep. Ginny gazed up and saw that Miriam had been standing on the back step, listening. She wiped her eyes fiercely with the back of her hand, said, ‘Dratted hayfever,’ and disappeared into the house with speed.

Hayfever was catching. Ginny found herself sniffing and hauled herself together with a fierceness that was almost anger.

She’d lose Richard.

Did she have to lose Fergus?

Slowly the anger faded. She stared out over the sleepy rural landscape and tried to do a bit of crystal-ball gazing. Which was very, very hard.

For no matter how she looked, the crystal ball didn’t show Fergus.

Her heart was screaming Fergus.

If she went back to the city she could be with him. Maybe it could work. Her hands were stroking Madison’s hair and the whippet was nuzzling her leg. If she went back to the city then maybe…maybe a suburban block…

No. Fergus wanted no appendages. He’d made that clear. Even looking at Madison hurt. He wanted a sexy relationship with no strings.

Yesterday that had been fine but now… She wanted strings. She was desperate for strings, and here they were lying on her lap. She was damned if she’d cut any more strings of her own accord.

‘I’m calling you Twiggy Two after my old dog,’ she told the whippet. Then, as the other two dogs thought maybe this wasn’t a trap and maybe they, too, could get into this patting business, she granted them names as well. ‘You’re Snapper,’ she told the collie, and the collie snapped at a fly in honour of the naming ceremony. ‘And you’re Bounce,’ she told the little dog. ‘Because I’m betting that if I feed you right and hug you often, that’s what you’ll do. Like Madison… By the time I finish with her, she’ll be Maddy. You mark my words.’

It’d be OK. She was sure it’d be OK.

‘Phone,’ Miriam said from the veranda, and she sounded apologetic, as if she knew how important this discussion was and she really didn’t want to interrupt it. She still sounded sniffy. ‘It’s Fergus. He needs you.’

No, he doesn’t, Ginny thought but she handed over her charges to Miriam and went to find what the impersonal need was that Fergus wanted her for.

‘Ginny, Stephanie Horace has appendicitis. She’s the eight-year-old I admitted this morning with suspected gastro. The symptoms this morning weren’t specific but they are now. Can you give the anaesthetic if I operate straight away?’

Fergus’s voice was so formal that she almost flinched. Instead, she held the phone away from her face, took a deep breath and switched into medical mode. Or tried to. She wasn’t too sure how she’d handle being close to Fergus right now.

It’d be easier if they didn’t have to see each other, she thought bleakly, but she still needed his help with Richard, and she had agreed to help him when needed.

‘You’re sure it’s appendicitis?’ she asked, without much hope.

‘There was very little local tenderness this morning, plus there was a history of two siblings with a tummy bug a couple of days before.’ Fergus sounded more strained than the situation demanded. Maybe he was feeling the same as she was. ‘I popped her into hospital with an IV line and she settled, but she’s started vomiting again now. There’s acute tenderness on the right side and she’s looking sick.’

‘You’re thinking that an attack of gastro could have pushed a grumbling appendix into an acute infection,’ Ginny said, and got a grunt of assent.

‘That’s what it looks like. No rebound yet but I want it out fast. Can you help or will I send her on?’

Rebound pain-pain when pressure was released-was a sign of a burst appendix. If there was no rebound pain they might be in time to take out an intact appendix. Much as she didn’t want to face Fergus again so soon, there was no choice. ‘Of course I’ll help.’

‘I thought you might not…’

Oh, for heaven’s sake… If she could be clinical, surely he could be, too. ‘You thought I might not what?’ she snapped.

‘You offered to help out before,’ he said. ‘But things have changed. You’re making a family.’

‘Yes, things have changed.’ Her voice softened. ‘Fergus, there’s no either-or in this game. You’re saying I’m an unemotional clinical medico or I’m part of a family? I’m allowed to be both. You were both until Molly died. I’m both now.’ She looked down at her torn jeans with dog hair attached and grimaced. ‘Look out for the lady with so much domesticity attached to her you can’t imagine. That’ll be me. But I’m also a doctor. Have the theatre ready the minute I arrive.’

‘That’s telling him,’ Miriam said mildly as Ginny put down the phone, and Ginny turned and faced her with a slightly shamefaced smile.

‘I had no business talking to him like that. But he was being…’

‘Ridiculous?’ Miriam smiled back at her. ‘Maybe he is. He’s in love with you, Ginny.’

‘No, he’s not.’

‘Are you crazy? He can’t keep his eyes off you. Richard and I were just saying so. The man’s besotted.’

‘He’s not in love with me. How can he be? His little girl died three months ago. He’s raw with pain.’

‘Oh, my dear,’ Miriam said softly, her smile fading. ‘We did wonder. Is that why he came here? To get away?’

‘Apparently.’

‘That makes it so much harder. Now you’re taking on the little one.’

‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘But how can I not? You know our family history. Madison looks like Toby. She looks like Chris. How can I not be part of her family? I just…am.’

‘Even if it means giving up Dr Reynard.’

‘I don’t have him to give up,’ she said honestly. ‘He fancies me as an unencumbered partner when needed, but it seems encumbrances are part of who I am. I just seem to collect them.’

‘And if he loves you then he has to see the whole picture,’ Miriam agreed. ‘Encumbrances included.’

‘Like that’s going to happen. I don’t think so.’

The appendix burst just as Fergus reached it. ‘Damn,’ he muttered and glanced up to see that she’d realised what had happened. A straightforward appendectomy took only minutes and Ginny had administered a really light anaesthetic. Now that it had burst there needed to be a full wash-out of the cavity, carefully cleaning every possible trace of the infected tissue.

Ginny nodded and adjusted her dosage, then went back to watching her dials, monitoring breathing, taking care…

But Stephanie was a normally, healthy eight-year-old who’d only been ill for twelve hours. This was not a complicated anaesthetic. There was time to watch Fergus operate, to see the skill in his fingers, to think that he couldn’t be expected to stay here.

With a skill like this, he should be a city surgeon.

So what was she about, wanting him to stay here?

She didn’t want him to stay here.

She didn’t want to stay here herself. But she would. Madison needed her. The dogs needed her.

She needed to be needed.

‘Oscar’s heard you’ve taken his dogs.’ Mary, the nurse assisting Fergus, handed Fergus his threaded needle. The cleaning was finished and Fergus was starting to close. The nurse went back to swabbing to keep the site clear of blood but she was relaxed enough now to talk to Ginny. Mary was an older nurse than Miriam, another farmer’s wife. Her farm was just north of Oscar’s. ‘He’s telling everyone it’s theft and he’s talking about having you arrested,’ she said.

‘He’s angry about everything,’ Fergus muttered, concentrating on stitching. ‘The man’s perpetually twisted. You want me to kick him out of the nursing home and tell him to go and look after his dogs himself?’

‘He’d die,’ Ginny said, but there was a certain amount of reluctance in her voice. Fergus glanced up at her.

‘And you wouldn’t be sorry?’

‘I’m always sorry when patients pass on,’ she said, and made her voice prim. ‘But those dogs have been starved and beaten. It’s a wonder the whole six of them aren’t savage.’

‘He’s not happy in the nursing home,’ Mary said, threading the next needle.

‘Tell me where he would be happy.’

‘He’s never had a family,’ Mary said. ‘What he needed was a wife and six kids. Instead, he’s just sat in that farmhouse and thought about the injustices of the world. Until he’s come to this.’

That caused a bit of an extended silence where Mary appeared to think about what she’d said.

‘I mean, there’s nothing wrong with not being married,’ she said at last, a trifle self-consciously. ‘I dare say you two will turn out to be very nice people.’

Fergus grinned. ‘Not me. I’m into injustices. Like Ginny being arrested for taking on the care of three starved dogs. That could get me bitter and twisted in no time.’

‘Then you’ll be carted off to a nursing home, kicking and screaming,’ Ginny retorted. ‘Any minute now. Get yourself some encumbrances.’

‘There’s three of Oscar’s dogs left,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe I should take them on.’

‘The ranger put them down this morning,’ Mary said, and all their smiles faded.

‘With Oscar’s permission?’ Fergus asked.

‘Oscar said put them all down,’ Mary told them. ‘Including the ones Ginny has. He’s decided to come into the nursing home and he doesn’t want anyone benefiting from his animals. He’s almost psychotic about being ripped off, so technically Ginny’s guilty of dog-napping.’

‘He’s not happy that she’s saved their lives?’ Fergus demanded, incredulous, and Mary shook her head.

‘I’ll give the man enemas,’ Fergus muttered. ‘Three a day for as long as we both shall live.’

‘You’re only here for another ten weeks,’ Mary reminded him, and he glowered some more.

‘Time enough. That’s seventy by three-two hundred and ten enemas. He’ll crack and sign a promise not to sue before I’m done with him.’

‘He won’t sue,’ Ginny said. ‘The man’s all bluster. I’m not frightened of him.’

‘You used to be,’ Mary retorted. ‘He and your mother…that’s an old story that Oscar will never let drop. There was a story went round the town when you were about eight-that Oscar berated your mother and you stood up for her. And he belted you. My uncle was the town policeman at the time and I remember him being livid that your mother wouldn’t press charges.’

‘He hit you?’ Fergus demanded. He was concentrating on the job at hand, but it was merely dressing now and there was room for rage.

‘He hit lots of things in his time,’ Mary said equitably. ‘But look at him now. Alone in a nursing home with his very own doctor threatening to give him enemas.’

‘Which I’ll thank you not to give him,’ Ginny said equitably. ‘That’s all in the past now.’

‘You’ve moved on.’

‘As of last night I have-Doctor,’ she said meekly, and both Mary and Fergus stared at her.

‘You want me to reverse my anaesthetic?’ she asked, and they were back into medical mode again. Which was just as well.

‘Yes, please,’ Fergus said, but Mary stared at both of them and Ginny thought, no, she hadn’t moved on.

But Ginny wasn’t answering questions. She couldn’t.

Mary and a young orderly took the recovering Stephanie out of Theatre. Fergus left to let the parents know how things had gone. Ginnie rid herself of her theatre gear fast, hoping to escape, but when she emerged Fergus was seated in the waiting room with a couple who were obviously Stephanie’s parents.

The woman had been crying, Ginny saw, and it was obviously taking time to reassure her and to be able to speak coherently to the pair of them.

‘The appendix has burst,’ he was saying. ‘It’s out now and it’s fine, but it was a bit messy. I’m really sorry I didn’t diagnose it this morning. It’s meant that we need to keep Stephanie in hospital for a little longer than we otherwise would. She’ll have to stay on intravenous antibiotics to make sure the infection from the appendix doesn’t cause any more problems.’

‘But she will be OK?’ the woman asked tremulously, and Fergus met her look square on. He hesitated, but the woman was shaking. He put a hand on her shoulder and gripped, hard.

It was often like this with people who’d never had medical trauma in their lives before, Ginny thought. These two had been shocked to the core by the realisation that their little girl was vulnerable in the worst possible way.

To lose a child…

Fergus had lost a child. What that must mean…

‘She’ll be OK,’ he was saying.

Ginny should go through the room, past them to the exit. At the very least she should make her presence felt. Instead, she stood in the doorway and watched.

‘If you’d operated earlier, it wouldn’t have burst,’ the farmer said, probing, and Fergus nodded.

‘That’s right. It was my mistake and I’m sorry for it.’

How often did you hear a doctor say that? Ginny thought incredulously. Surgeons had a reputation for being mini-gods in their domain.

Not this one.

‘But we all thought it was gastro.’ The woman was crying still, but she’d calmed down now and she took Fergus’s hand and lifted it. ‘The local school…one kid after another has gone down with this bug and we thought it was the same. We practically told you it was the same. And Clive here even thought you were overreacting when you brought her in this morning. Bloody doctors trying to fill hospital beds, he said, and I agreed. So…’ She gulped. ‘So I’m saying there’s no blame on you from us for not diagnosing it earlier. Is there, Clive?’ And she turned to her husband and waited.

Hmm.

It could go either way here, Ginny thought. Clive Horace had the look of a man who could be belligerent.

But it seemed that Fergus’s blatant apology had done the trick.

‘We won’t be blaming you, Doc,’ he said. ‘If you hadn’t been here and she stopped vomiting, we probably wouldn’t have even taken her to the doctor until late today ’cos it’d mean a three-hour drive. By which time I reckon she’d be worse.’

‘She would have been.’

‘Just lucky you were here, then,’ he said, and he looked up and saw Ginny watching. ‘And you, too, miss,’ he told her. ‘The nurse said you’d given the anaesthetic. And you a Viental and all.’

‘I-’

‘Your family’s had such rotten luck,’ the farmer said. ‘And here we are, terrified about one of our kidlets with appendicitis. I don’t know what we’re making a fuss about.’

‘If it was my kid, I’d be making a fuss,’ Ginny said.

‘They say you have a kid,’ the farmer said. ‘Richard’s kid. They say you’re taking her on.’

‘I… Yes.’

‘You’re a brave lass.’ He rose and took his wife’s hand, drawing her up after him. ‘Thanks to you both,’ he said heavily. ‘Can we see her now?’

She wanted to go home. She felt drained and a little sick. She turned and headed out to the car park and when she heard Fergus, call she was tempted not to stop.

‘Ginny.’

She did stop but she didn’t turn to face him. She just stood motionless, staring ahead at her car.

He caught her and touched her shoulder. She flinched. She’d made her decision-but she didn’t have to like it.

He withdrew his hands. ‘Ginny?’

‘Yes?’

‘I was wondering if you’d come out with me tonight.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘No,’ he said gravely. ‘It’s a dumb idea. But it’s the only idea I have. Hell, Ginny, what sort of a childhood did you have?’

‘Are you saying you want to take me out tonight because you feel sorry for me?’ she managed, and she heard him suck in his breath in exasperation.

‘Of course not.’

‘Then what?’

‘I just think you’re the bravest woman,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve never met anyone like you. Ginny, I really need to get to know you better.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea either.’

‘Why not?’

She whirled to face him. ‘Because I’m falling in love with you,’ she whispered.

‘I think that’s a really good idea,’ he said, and he smiled.

‘No, it’s not.’

‘Ginny, we need to see where this can take us.’

‘That’s nuts. Like there’s five roads branching out ahead and we know three end in brick walls, so let’s just put our foot on the accelerator and go where the steering-wheel takes us.’

‘I just want to take you to dinner.’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘You know why not.’

‘Richard’s doing little but sleeping. Miriam’s with Madison…’

‘You see, there’s the problem,’ she whispered. ‘Madison needs to be with me. She needs to start seeing me as a constant.’

He drew in his breath at that. He really was absurdly handsome, Ginny thought inconsequentially. He was still wearing his theatre gown and slippers, hospital green. He’d raked his hair as he’d spoken to Stephanie’s parents and it was tousled and rumpled and she just want to…

No!

‘Maybe I could try,’ he said, and she blinked.

‘Try. Try what?’

He chewed his bottom lip. ‘Ginny, this thing between us…You say you think you’re falling in love.’

‘I’m trying very hard not to,’ she said, and he nodded.

‘Me, too.’

‘So why are you asking me out to dinner?’

‘Because I’ve got this appalling feeling that I might be making a mistake.’

‘Fergus, my appendages aren’t going to go away,’ she said softly. ‘Believe me, I didn’t mean this to happen. I know, this is really fast but it’s overwhelming. Every time I look at you I think how can I have appendages when it means I can’t have you? But I do have them, Fergus. Madison is right here in my heart and I’m even falling for my dogs.’

‘OK, then,’ he said, and she blinked again.

‘OK, what?’

‘I’ll try.’

‘You’ll try what?’

‘Let’s have a picnic on the lake tonight. With appendages attached.’

‘Not in the boatshed,’ she said in a hurry, and he grinned.

‘Not in the boatshed.’

‘A proper picnic.’ She sounded suspicious but she couldn’t help it.

‘Yes.’

She bit her lip but it had to be said. ‘I can bring Madison?’

‘You can bring anyone you want.’

‘A barbecue.’

‘Yes. If we can build one on the shore.’

‘There’s a cairn down on the east shore we can use as a barbecue.’ She stared at him for a long moment and came to a decision. ‘Right. If I leave now, I can catch the butcher.’

‘Just like that?’

‘Just like that,’ she said. ‘Are you doing evening surgery?’

‘Yes, but it’s lightly booked. It should be finished by six.’

‘I’ll see you at seven, then,’ she told him. ‘On the east shore. With sausages.’

‘See you then.’

Terrific, she thought as she drove butcher-wards. What on earth was she doing?

She didn’t have a clue.