Marion Lennox - In Dr. Darling’s Care

Lizzie tried to get her tired mind to think. This wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. ‘Um… I only agreed to come last Tuesday. This wedding’s obviously been planned for months.’

‘We had another locum booked,’ May told her. ‘Only he realised how remote it was and pulled out.’

So that’s why they’d lied to her. Lizzie’s heart hardened. ‘Then I can-’

‘No, you can’t,’ May told her. ‘You’re nice.’

‘I’m not nice.’

‘Yeah, you are. I’ve seen your dog. Anyone who didn’t get a dog like that put down at first sight has to be more than nice.’

‘You mean really, really stupid,’ Lizzie said, and May grinned.

‘You said it, Dr Darling, not me. But if the cap fits…’

It was the best shower she’d ever had in her life. Lizzie stood under the hot water and let the heat and the steam soothe away the mud and the cold and the shock. Long after she was thoroughly clean she still stood there, letting the heat soothe her tired brain. Making her mind blank. Giving her time out.

Somewhere someone called Jim was looking after Phoebe. That in itself was a godsend. Ever since Grandma had died Phoebe had followed her like a shadow and Lizzie, who didn’t do family, who didn’t do connections, was finding it a weighty strain.

Phoebe was supposed to be back at the holiday cottage right now, but when Lizzie had shut the gate behind her this morning Phoebe had set up a wail that would have woken the dead. Then she’d launched herself at the wooden gate like a battering ram, over and over again, hurling her ungainly body at the wood in manic desperation to follow.

‘You’re pregnant,’ Lizzie had told her. ‘You’ll go into premature labour if you don’t stop it. I’ll be back tonight.’

But Phoebe had kept right on howling and battering. Finally Lizzie had shoved her in the car. She was staying down here because of the dratted dog. If she had to do this locum job with Phoebe sprawled over her feet while she took surgery then the patients would just have to wear it.

What had May said? Anyone who hadn’t had a dog like this put down at first sight had to be more than nice. ‘Ha.’

She wasn’t being nice. It was just… Just that she was stuck.

Phoebe had been Grandma’s dog. Grandma had loved Phoebe and she’d loved Lizzie. Grandma had been the one constant in Lizzie’s trauma-filled upbringing and the thought of losing her…

No. She wasn’t going to cry. She blinked and splashed her face with some more hot water. She wouldn’t cry. But neither could she put Phoebe down.

‘But what on earth ever possessed you to let her get pregnant?’ she wailed to her grandmother. ‘One basset hound I can cope with.’ She thought about it and changed her story. ‘No. One basset hound I can survive. But a pregnant basset hound? A hound with puppies? And they mightn’t even be bassets.’

Actually, that wasn’t such a bad thought. Maybe they’d have their father’s intelligence. Whoever the father was.

‘Maybe he’s a Border collie.

‘Yeah? Border collies are smart. You seriously think a Border collie would look twice at our Phoebe?

‘Maybe not.’

‘Um…is there someone in the shower with you?’ a voice called. ‘If there’s a party happening in there I’ll go away. I don’t want to disturb you.’

May. Whoops, Lizzie thought, and stuck her head out of the shower curtain to reply.

‘I’m talking to the plughole,’ she told her with an attempt at dignity, and May nodded.

‘It’s a good thing, too,’ May said cautiously. ‘I find they don’t talk back.’

‘This one was talking back something dreadful.’

‘Dratted plughole. I’ll call a plumber and have it fixed.’

This woman could be a friend, Lizzie thought gratefully, and the world looked brighter all of a sudden. Especially when she saw what May was holding.

‘My clothes!’

‘Jim drove out and brought your things in.’

Lizzie considered. ‘All my things?’

‘All your things. Including the dog basket.’

‘Gee, that was nice of Jim.’

‘You’re dripping on the floor.’

‘Hand me my towel,’ Lizzie said without committing herself further until she’d had a little think about what was happening here. She retired behind the shower curtain and started towelling herself. And thinking.

‘I can’t stay here.’

‘You have to stay here.’

‘Why?’

‘You’re the only doctor. You need to be on call twenty-four seven.’

She swallowed. ‘Dr McKay wasn’t in cellphone range when I ran over him. He can’t have been on duty.’

‘He was only out of range because Emily has been driving him crazy. She’s been driving everyone crazy. Honestly, if I see one more pew ribbon…’

‘This wedding’s a big deal, huh?’

‘Yep.’ May put a hand behind the curtain and proffered what was most needed. ‘Knickers.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Bra?’

‘Do you normally provide valet service?’

‘When I want to talk, I do. Are you sending our Dr McKay away?’

‘As soon as I can get to a phone and arrange it, yes.’

‘Emily will hate you forever.’

‘Hey, it’s not my fault.’

‘You ran over him.’

‘So what am I supposed to do now? Wave a magic wand so he can sail down the aisle tomorrow? The only way he can get married tomorrow is for Emily to follow him to the city and marry him at a bedside ceremony.’

‘T-shirt,’ May said helpfully. ‘Jeans?’

‘Great.’ Silence while she wiggled into her clothes. Then she pushed the curtain back and emerged.

‘Gee,’ May said. ‘You don’t scrub up too badly after all.’

‘Thanks.’

‘You want to tell them, or shall I?’

‘Tell…’

‘The happy pair. That the wedding’s off. That all those rose petals are going to wilt.’

‘Rose petals?’

‘Emily’s gathered every rose in Birrini,’ May said. ‘Wheelbarrows of the things.’

Lizzie stared at the woman in front of her, and May stared back.

‘Wheelbarrows?’

‘Wheelbarrows.’

‘Where’s Phoebe?’ she asked, moving on from this crazy image with some difficulty.

‘We’re minding her until you’ve faced Emily,’ May told her. ‘Phoebe or Emily… We’ll take Phoebe any day.’

Dressed and warm and feeling as close to normal as she was going to feel today, Lizzie made her way through to the single ward where Harry lay. As she reached the door she paused. There was the sound of a female voice, strained to breaking point.

‘It’s not as if you have to walk down the aisle alone. If you have a cast on, you can wait for me on crutches. Then when you reach me you can hold my hand. It’d be better if you didn’t use crutches afterwards-for the wedding march-but I’ll be able to support you then.’

Lizzie waited, expecting a reply. Nothing.

‘Harry, you must. I mean, there are two hundred people invited. We can’t tell them it’s off.’

Enough. Harry was so drugged he’d agree to anything right now, Lizzie thought, and the sooner she put paid to impossibilities the better. She swung the ward door wide and Emily looked up at her as if she was interrupting something personal. Harry, though, looked across the room to her in real relief.

‘Dr Darling.’

‘Hi.’ She crossed the room to stand beside Emily’s chair. He’d regained a little colour. Good. She pushed the cradle back from his leg. The inflatable splint she’d fixed to his leg was holding it rigid. There was still good colour in his toes, she saw with relief. But still…the sooner she had those bones fixed into place by a skilled orthopaedic surgeon the happier she’d be.

‘You don’t look like a doctor,’ he murmured, and she couldn’t help but agree.