Marion Lennox: Second Chance With Her Island Doc

Where had that word come from? Home was England, the dogs, her village, her people.

She could feel his heart beating. Strong. Steady. Leo.

The shaking was easing. Whatever was happening, this helped. She had no strength to draw away and she didn’t want to. Drug-free medicine... A hug...

She let her mind stop its useless spinning and focus on just being held.

By Leo.

There was no pressure. He didn’t push her away, even as her sobs subsided. He simply sat and held her, letting her take as much time as she needed to get herself back together.

Letting her take as much comfort as she needed.

And she did need it. She didn’t want to draw back.

This was an illusion, a memory of times past, a comfort that shouldn’t be any kind of comfort at all.

Oh, but he felt...

‘Dressing tray.’ The female voice... Maria’s?...came from the doorway. And then there was an apologetic reaction as the nurse saw what was happening. ‘Whoops, sorry, back in a moment.’

‘It’s okay.’ Finally—to her regret—Leo pulled back. ‘Bring it in, Maria. Anna, are we all right to get these stitches in?’

‘I... Of course.’ The tears were gone. She was bloodstained, puffy-eyed and mortified, but somehow she hauled together what was left of her rag-tailed dignity. ‘Stitches and then twelve hours of obs and I’m out of here.’

‘That’s what we both want,’ Leo said, and, comfort or not, the old resentments surged back.

This man was her treating doctor. She needed him to help her. He’d comforted her with a hug.

She still wanted to slap him.

IT WAS A long night, and it wasn’t just medical need that made it so.

The sweet-eating toddler and Anna’s laceration were the last simple cases Leo saw. The birth Carla was attending did turn into a Caesarean and a dicey one at that. Greta was diabetic. She’d been desperate to have a natural delivery, had persuaded Carla to let her try, but by the time they’d bailed out her sugar levels had been all over the place. Carla took over the baby’s care and Leo was left trying to stabilise mum.

Then there were three injured teens from a street brawl. It wasn’t unusual. The kids here were bored. There were few jobs and little to aspire to.

And the woman responsible was in his hospital.

That wasn’t fair, he conceded as the night wore on. He snatched a couple of hours’ sleep but it was a disturbed rest, interspersed with thoughts of Anna. She hadn’t personally been responsible for her family’s greed.

But she was now. That one person could inherit such wealth, controlling the misery of so many lives... It made something inside him cold with fury, an anger he’d carried all his life.

Dawn saw him back on the wards. The teens were safe, their injuries relatively minor. Knife wounds, bruising, a couple of fractures, but he could cope with those. Ideally one of the boys should be sent to an orthopaedic surgeon, but where were the funds for that? He’d have to balance cost to the family against using the skills he had.

Breakfast was a fast cruise past the hospital kitchen. Carla found him there. She’d been home and slept. She was sixty but she usually chirped like she was about twenty years younger than Leo felt. This morning she was rubbing her temple, though, and looking tired.

‘Headache?’

‘I need aspirin,’ she conceded. ‘Though why I should have a headache when it’s you who was up most of the night... Rough?’

He nodded, swigging lukewarm coffee. If there was one thing he wanted more than anything it was to replace the coffee machine.

A new steriliser for Theatre came first. There were always things that came first.

‘No deaths?’ Carla queried, and he wondered if that was how he looked. Maybe. Anna’s arrival had jolted his world.

‘No one’s dead,’ he told her. ‘Though there are three kids who tried. Knives, alcohol...’ He shook his head. ‘Seventeen years old and not a job or a prospect between them. It’s a disaster, Carla.’

‘So talk to the heiress.’

‘You know the rules. The money’s tied up in the castle. Even if I could persuade her...’

‘You could try.’

‘She’s a Castlavaran. What’s likely to change?’ He swigged more coffee and put his mug aside. ‘Ugh.’

‘But she’s an outsider.’ Carla suddenly sounded chirpy again. ‘And Maria says you’ve met her before.’

Of course. Nothing in this hospital went unnoticed.

‘At medical school,’ he said, brusquely. ‘I didn’t know who she was.’

‘She’s a doctor?’

‘I imagine she finished her training, yes.’

‘Wow. That’s wonderful. You might even be able to persuade her to help us. Leo, what’s needed here is charm.’

‘Charm?’ He eyed her with suspicion. He and Carla went back a long way. In fact, it had been a much younger Carla who’d persuaded Leo’s mother—and the town—to send him to medical school in London. Carla herself had gone there, funded by an aunt who’d emigrated. She was full of energy and ideas and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. He looked at her now and thought, Uh oh. He knew that look.

‘Why not charm her?’ she went on. ‘Maybe even take it further. She’s the same age as you are, and she owns practically this entire country. And now she’s a doctor.’

‘A doctor who’s a Castlavaran.’

‘That’s prejudice,’ she said sternly. ‘I’ve a good mind to march in there and charm for myself.’

‘You’re welcome. She needs to be checked and discharged.’

‘Your patient,’ she said, and chuckled. ‘And your project.’

‘I have work to do. My plan is to get her out of here as soon as possible.’

‘The country’s stuck with her, though,’ Carla said. ‘You could put in a bit of effort.’

‘Leave it,’ he snapped, and then caught himself. Any minute now Carla would be sussing out past history. ‘From all I gather, she’s here to accept her inheritance and go.’

‘So keep her in hospital a little longer.’

‘Leave it, Carla,’ he said again, and he heard his weariness reflected in his voice. ‘We have work to do. Your headache...’

‘Nothing aspirin can’t fix,’ Carla said, and she was watching him now with worry. She’d heard something in his voice. Seen something on his face? ‘Leo, what’s wrong with you ?’

‘Nothing that getting Anna out of our hospital won’t fix. Let’s move.’

* * *

Leo had written her up for painkillers, so Anna had slept. She’d had some breakfast. A very young nurse had helped her shower, washing away the worst of the bloodstains. She’d be wearing a scarf for a while but she was feeling a lot more in control.

She needed to get out of Leo’s hospital.

Her tiny room was clean but shabby, with faded linoleum, a stark iron bedstead, a small wheeled table and nothing else. Its one high window looked out onto a brick wall and the light was from a single bulb, hanging high. It was hardly a room for feeling better in, she thought. It felt more like a cell.

Had Leo put her in here purposely? Was it the worst room he could find?

She wanted to leave, now.

Victoir turned up soon after breakfast with her suitcase. He was appalled— appalled! —by what had happened and his volubility made her tired. She persuaded him to disappear while she rid herself of the hospital gown, but the effort of tugging on jeans and T-shirt made her feel woozy. She settled back on the bed, and almost immediately Victoir reappeared, this time carrying a sheaf of documents so thick the ache in her head surged back.

‘I can’t read them here,’ she told him. ‘And I need legal advice if they’re to do with the estate. Victoir, I’ll take them back to England with me and get them checked.’