Leah Martyn - Redeeming Dr Riccardi

‘You looked pretty cosy together up on the stage.’ Liz persisted with her banter.

‘That was none of my doing. Bernie Maguire insisted. Anyway, enough of this crazy supposition,’ Toni said. ‘Here come the men with the drinks.’

The conversation between the two couples became general and light and then Matt asked, ‘So, Rafe, where were you working before coming here to Forrestdale?’ Always the journalist, he’d had begun to sniff out a story.

Rafe looked away, dropping his gaze to his glass, giving the orange juice his riveting attention. ‘I’ve been overseas for the past year, working for Médecins Sans Frontières in Cambodia.’

Liz’s arch look at Toni silently said, So now we know.

‘I imagine the population are still suffering the effects from the reign of that dictator?’ Matt considered himself well versed in world politics. ‘How is it now?’

Rafe frowned. ‘It’s still one of the most heavily land-mined countries in the world. One in every two hundred and fifty Cambodians has one or more amputations. But for all its tragic history, it’s still a beautiful country.’

‘Got to have had repercussions for the kids, though?’ Matt pressed for more.

‘They’ve lost a whole generation of their skills and professions. Of course it’s effected the kids,’ Rafe said tersely. ‘As we speak, half the country’s children are malnourished and one in seven will die before their fifth birthday, mostly from vaccine-preventable diseases.’

Toni felt her breathing falter. Rafe was clearly unsettled. The experience had obviously disturbed him deeply. And as a doctor it would be much worse dealing with so much heartache day after day. She hoped Matt would leave it alone now but of course he didn’t.

‘What about the basic necessities?’ he asked. ‘Drinking water? Sanitation?’

‘Use your imagination,’ Rafe growled.

‘I produce a programme on local radio called Conversations. ’ Matt leaned forward eagerly. ‘Your experiences working for MSF would make interesting listening. Would you feel like coming over to the studio some time and having a chat with our presenter?’

Rafe’s mouth drew in. Probably not. Definitely not. But it wouldn’t kill him to be diplomatic. Like him, Matt had a job to do. ‘I’ll think about it. There’s no rush, is there?’

‘Take your time.’ Matt’s shrug was open-handed. ‘If, after a chat with Gillian, you don’t feel comfortable with the concept, no worries.’

Toni saw Rafe relax—not much, just a slight shift of the muscles under his shirt, but enough to know he was back in control of his emotions. She watched as he drained his drink and rose to his feet.

‘I’m going to split, guys. Enjoy the rest of the night.’

Toni’s worried eyes followed his exit.

‘So, now we know where’s he’s been.’ This time Liz gave voice to her thoughts. ‘I wonder if he intends going back?’

‘Probably.’ Matt’s lips twisted into a thoughtful moue. ‘Those guys in the front line tend to get addicted to the cause. ’ He bracketed the word in the air.

Toni bristled silently. Quite out of the blue she felt protective of Rafe’s privacy. None of them here knew anything about his reasons for going to work for MSF. And she thought that Matt, whatever his best intentions, had ambushed him.

Suddenly, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt out of sync with her friends. She dredged up an off-key smile and got to her feet. ‘All that hard work drawing the raffle prizes has done me, guys. I think I’ll call it a night as well.’

‘I’ll walk you out,’ Matt said.’

‘No need.’ Toni waved away his offer. ‘I’m parked close to the front entrance. See you tomorrow, Lizzy. And, Matt, thanks as always for the free publicity for our fundraiser.’

‘Hey, any time.’ Matt nodded his acknowledgment. ‘I’ll be sure to pass it along to our station manager. Drive safely.’

Toni fluttered a wave. ‘‘Night.’

Toni’s thoughts were unresolved as she drove home. She got that Matt was a facilitator for his programme. And that was fair enough but surely he could have laid off grilling Rafe the way he had?

Damn! Just when Rafe had seemed relaxed enough to start enjoying the evening too. And now he’d probably crawl back into shell and she’d have to start all over again to try to winkle him out so at least they could have some kind of decent working relationship.

She pulled into her carport, killed the engine and went inside. Tossing her clutch-bag on the hall table and kicking off her sandals, she went through to the kitchen. She was wound up. She crossed to the counter and looked through the window at the courtyard. The solar lights had come on, sending the baskets of ferns into feathery silhouettes.

The silvery light reminded her of the Lyons’ pool at night. And reminded her that’s what she needed right now—to dive into its cool depths and thresh the water until she’d driven off this foul mood of frustration. But she couldn’t do that.

Rafe was in residence there.

Rafe heaved himself out of the pool. Standing naked in the moonlight, he shook the moisture from his hair and then bent and picked up his towel from the sun-lounger. Giving his body a cursory wipe, he slung the towel around his hips. He felt better now, his mind freed up from all those images that Matt’s questions had dumped all over him.

Padding back along the path to the annexe, he pushed open the screen door and went inside. The place was air-conditioned but so far Rafe had refrained from switching it on. He preferred the weather as it came. And in February it was stinking hot, the air almost brittle with stillness, the pungent smell of ripening mangoes everywhere. So intrinsic of everything Australian, he couldn’t get enough of it.

For now, anyway.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.