Marion Lennox - Bachelor Cure

‘Anyway, Mr Harcourt was embarrassed about being caught in his pyjamas. They have yellow ducks all over them! They were a gift from his wife, he says, though I don’t know whether I believe him. I think he likes them. And he was smoking again this morning! Honestly, I think the man smokes in his sleep. So I gave him another lecture and asked if I could get some whitewash and some stove black. And he was so nice-he gave me the key to the shop.’

She meant he was so flummoxed, Mike thought blankly. Anyone would be.

And William Harcourt… It couldn’t have happened to a nicer man. Yellow ducks, eh? Mike’s lips gave an involuntary twitch.

‘So then I scrubbed and scrubbed. This place looked dingy but, in fact, it’s just the smoke stains all over the stone walls from the fire stove. I’m sure Grandpa doesn’t keep the vents open like he should and it’s so bad for his health. I cleared everything out and whitewashed the walls, and I blacked the stove and then I hauled everything back in here-hasn’t it made a difference?’

It certainly had. Mike could only stare.

‘I need help to hang the curtains again,’ she told him, not giving him time to comment. ‘I washed them early and I was just going out to see if they were dry when I got sidetracked with Doris and the kids. I’ll go and get them now. Isn’t it lucky you came?’

And she flew out of the kitchen, leaving Mike staring after her.

She was like a whirlwind, a crazy, wonderful tornado that picked everything up and whirled it around and set it down…different.

And he didn’t know how to stop himself whirling.

They worked steadily on. He wasn’t allowed to protest. He simply obeyed orders and the experience was totally novel.

Mike was an undomesticated animal, but Tess didn’t seem to notice. She had him hauling down the upstairs curtains, beating rugs over the clothesline, hauling sheets off beds and making them up with clean linen, and sweeping out rooms that hadn’t been used for years. Strop followed behind, interested and nosing his way into everything.

‘You and Henry are only going to use two bedrooms,’ he protested. ‘The place has five. Why do we have to clean them all out?’

His protest was met by scorn.

‘If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well,’ she said piously. ‘Didn’t your mother teach you anything?’

And then she looked sideways at him as his face closed-and he knew she was busy adding two and two together and making heaven only knew what out of her thoughts. He didn’t have the faintest idea what she was thinking.

He’d never met anyone like this woman in his life.

She called a halt at two. Miraculously the phone at Mike’s hip hadn’t sounded once. He almost wished it had.

Tess laid out fresh bread and cheese, and hauled a bottle of wine from her grandfather’s cellar. She produced a hambone for Strop-how the hell had she guessed Strop might be here? Then she spread a rug out under the gums, settled herself down in the sunshine and she smiled up at him…

Then again, maybe he didn’t want his phone to ring at all.

‘Come on. You’ve earned this,’ she ordered, patting the blanket.

‘Where did you get all this from?’

‘I begged the cheese from Louise’s mom, the hambone came from the hospital kitchen and the baker was baking early this morning. I was his first customer. I told him I really hoped you might be sharing my lunch and he said he hoped so, too, and he said rye bread was your favourite.’

They’d be the talk of the town, Mike thought faintly. If Tess was breezing down the main street at dawn, chatting to solid citizens in their duck-covered pyjamas and discussing Mike’s likes and dislikes in the bread department…

How had she known he would think of coming?

Miraculously, Tess was silent the whole time she ate. She lay stretched out like a lazy cat, soaking up the warmth and the fresh bread and cheese and the smell of the eucalyptus above them. He was left alone with his thoughts.

Not for long. Never for long with Tess around.

The bread and cheese finished, Tess disappeared inside the house and came back with two steaming mugs of coffee. She handed him one, settled down with hers and then hit him with both barrels.

‘Tell me about your mother.’

‘What…?’

‘Louise says your dad lit out when you were tiny. She says your mother raised you alone and then, when you were sixteen, your mom died. How did she die?’

‘Tess…’

‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘It’s none of my business. But tell me anyway.’

‘Why?’

‘Mike, I really want to know.’

He sighed and stirred and stretched out, lying on his back with his hands behind his head as he gazed up through the canopy of gum leaves. Why tell this girl? Why be here at all?

It seemed there was no choice.

‘My mother died of a diabetic coma,’ he said heavily, his voice sounding as if he’d been goaded. ‘Her diabetes was unstable. She got an infection which ran out of control. One Saturday afternoon she just collapsed. In retrospect she needed intravenous antibiotics and she needed insulin. But she’d never let me touch her diabetic medical kit. She hated me even thinking she was ill, so I didn’t know what to give her or how much-even if I’d known how to give an injection.’

His voice grew incredibly weary as he thought it through. How many times had he gone over and over what had happened? He was tired of it in his mind; infinitely tired, but he couldn’t let it go.

‘So…’ Somehow he made himself continue. ‘So there was no hospital here then and no nurses. There was just a doctor. Just a doctor who didn’t come. Mum was in a coma when I found her, otherwise maybe she could have told me what to do. But there was no one.’

‘You blame the doctor?’

‘He should have come.’

‘So you’re going to be on call, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for the rest of your life?’

‘Something like that.’ He grimaced, then shrugged and gave a rueful smile. ‘No. I’m not that stupid. I know I’m not God. I pay locums once a year so I get a break.’

‘Locums?’

‘Two locums.’

‘Two locums to provide the same service you provide?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Because no other single doctor would be stupid enough to take on what you take on.’ Tessa’s voice was gentle, but insistent.

‘That’s your point of view.’

‘Well…’ She’d been sitting on the rug, staring down at him. Now she flopped backwards so she was lying full length beside him and she put her hands behind her head as well. She stared up into Mike’s gum tree as if she was trying to see what he was seeing. By their side, Strop gnawed peacefully on, supremely content with his lot.

‘It’s just as well I’ve come, then,’ she said decisively. ‘You need me, Mike Llewellyn.’

‘I-’

‘Admit it,’ she said, still staring upwards. ‘You need another doctor.’

‘If you stay, it’ll mean I don’t need to have so many holidays.’

‘It’ll mean you don’t run yourself into the ground so much.’ Tessa nodded decisively. She’d kicked her shoes off. Now she raised one bare foot and examined her toes, with the gum-tree canopy acting as a background for her painted toenails. It was as if she was admiring a work of art. Which, in fact, they were. ‘So you admit it, Mike? You need me?’

‘OK.’ He stirred uneasily. She was too damned close for comfort-too damned close by far-and the sight of her bare toes… Hell, he’d never realised bare toes could be so sexy! ‘I do need another doctor,’ he said grudgingly. ‘If you stay then I’ll be grateful.’

‘Oh, I’ll stay.’ She hauled herself up so she was supporting herself on her arms and staring straight down at him. Her face was now right in his line of sight-between him and his canopy. She was about four inches from his nose.