Leah Martyn - A Mother for His Baby

‘Of course, silly.’

‘Just everything’s happened since I’ve been away,’ Jo grumbled, pouring her coffee and adding a dollop of milk.

‘I know…’ Vicki said seriously. ‘Ralph’s leaving. I wonder how the new doctor will fit in?’

Jo shrugged. ‘Time will tell, I guess. Thanks for the coffee, Vic.’

‘Welcome.’

Jo took herself along to Reception. ‘Good morning, Monica,’ she said, greeting their practice manager with a smile.

‘Jo. Good to have you back.’ Monica looked slightly harassed. ‘I take it you’ve heard the news about Ralph?’

Jo nodded. ‘Angelo filled me in. I wanted to look over the new doctor’s CV before my meeting with him. Do you have it handy?’

Monica picked up some paperwork from the in-tray. ‘Yes, I do. Come through. It’s good they found a suitable replacement so quickly,’ she said, unlocking her cabinet and handing Jo the file. ‘The place couldn’t function indefinitely with one doctor down. The workload would be difficult to say the least.’

‘It certainly would,’ Jo agreed. ‘Talking about workloads, I’d better check on my patient list.’

Jo’s first patient for the day was Nora Burows. The elderly lady had an extremely fair complexion and years of working outdoors on the family farm had resulted in severe sun damage to her face and arms. Nora was listed for an excision of a scaly lesion on the side of her throat.

With the rate of skin cancer in Australia the highest in the world, Jo wasn’t about to take any chances. She’d need to send a sample of the damaged skin to the lab. A biopsy would be carried out and hopefully, for her patient’s sake, would return a benign result.

But the depletion of the ozone layers around the world was a real concern. Jo guessed in the not-too-distant future medical officers would be seeing a dramatic increase in the incidence of melanomas.

She buzzed through to their practice nurse in the treatment room. ‘Marika, has Mrs Burows arrived yet?’

‘I have her settled and we’re ready to go when you are.’

‘Right. I’m on my way.’

Jo pushed back the pale blue curtain and greeted her patient, who was lying on the treatment couch. ‘Good morning, Nora. Ready for your op?’

‘As I’ll ever be, Doctor.’ Nora’s lashes around her pale blue eyes fluttered briefly.

‘Now, you haven’t got yourself all worked up, have you? We’ve been through a few of these together.’

Nora’s throat convulsed as she swallowed. ‘Doesn’t make it any easier, though, Dr Rutherford.’

‘I know.’ Jo patted her shoulder. ‘So, we’ll get rid of this nasty little number for you and you can be on your way.’

Jo double-checked her patient’s notes. Nora’s blood pressure was a touch low but otherwise she enjoyed reasonable health.

‘Right, let’s get started. Would you drape, please, Marika?’

Gowned and gloved, Jo expertly drew up lignocaine and slowly began infiltrating the skin around the lesion. ‘This will pack quite a strong effect, Nora,’ she warned. ‘You’ll feel some numbing around your ear and lower jaw.’ While she waited for the local to take effect, Jo became aware of Nora’s sudden rapid breathing and felt a tinge of alarm. ‘Are you OK under there, Nora?’

‘I don’t think I am, Doctor. My tummy’s all queasy…’

‘Marika, get her feet up, please,’ Jo directed sharply.

In a second Marika had slid several pillows under Nora’s lower legs and begun to sponge her face.

‘Your body is reacting to the anaesthetic, Nora,’ Jo said gently. ‘Did you eat breakfast?’

‘Just a cup of tea.’

‘Perhaps your blood sugar’s a bit low. Just take some deep breaths and try to relax. That’s good, sweetheart. There’s no hurry. We’ll wait until you’re feeling OK again.’

Nora was still shaky when the procedure was finished. ‘Lie there for a while,’ Jo instructed, ‘and then Marika will help you sit up. But very slowly, mind. And dangle your legs over the side for a while until you’re feeling stronger. Now, is someone with you?’

Nora clasped her thin hands across her chest. ‘My daughter’s outside in the waiting room.’

‘Good. I think we’ll get her to come in and sit with you while you recover.’ Jo looked keenly down at her patient. She was still pale. ‘I’m sorry this one took a bit longer than usual, Nora.’ Jo stripped off her gloves. ‘It had spread further than I thought.’

Nora moistened dry lips. ‘I…will be all right, though, won’t I?’

‘I’ll have the result of the biopsy in a few days.’ Jo avoided answering directly. There was no point in alarming her patient unnecessarily. ‘And I’ll see you in a week to have the stitches out.’

Jo was already running behind time. ‘Same old, same old,’ she murmured, going out to Reception to call in her next patient.

She worked slowly through her list and by twelve-thirty she’d begun to wonder how on earth she was going to make the staff meeting on time.

Then the fates looked kindly on her. Vicki popped her head in. ‘Toni Morris just cancelled, Jo. Said her little one’s feeling much better. Thinks it was just a twenty-four-hour bug. He’s had a light meal, kept it down and is looking brighter.’

Jo pushed her chair back and stretched. ‘Excellent. Thanks, Vic.’

Vicki departed with a fluttered wave and Jo swung to her feet and walked to the window. Her consulting room was at the rear of the sprawling low-set building and she loved the view. It was the first week of September and spring had come with a burst of colour. Jo noticed even the old mango tree was drooping with blossoms, ensuring a bumper feast of the tropical fruit for the long hot summer ahead.

How I love this place, she thought, her gaze stretching across to the paddocks already knee-deep in summer crops of baby corn, melons and tomatoes. She shook her head. Why did she have the feeling that everything was about to change?

She turned as her phone rang. It was Angelo, straight to the point.

‘Had time to look over Brady’s CV yet, Jo?’

Jo stole a guilty look at her watch. ‘Just about to. I’ve been flat to the boards.’

‘Me, too. See you in a bit, then.’

‘Yes.’ So much for holidays, she thought dryly, clipping the receiver back on its rest. She was beginning to feel she’d never been away.

Collecting the file Monica had given her, she dropped back into the chair. ‘OK, Brady McNeal,’ she murmured, ‘let’s see what you have to offer.’

With the file on the desk in front of her, Jo leaned forward. In a reflex action she shielded her eyes. It felt odd to be reading the man’s very personal background information. Odd and strangely intrusive.

Well, there was nothing she could do about it, she rationalised.

And the further she read, the more she realised Brady McNeal seemed a very good choice for their particular needs. Or was her judgment being clouded by the fact she’d already interacted with the man?

And been attracted.

She took a deep breath, feeling the swirl of mixed emotions well up like a balloon inside her chest.

* * *

Jo ran a brush through her hair and added a dash of lipstick, before joining the others in the staffroom for their working lunch.

With quiet efficiency, Monica had set out sandwiches and a fruit platter and topped up the coffee-maker in readiness. ‘There’s hot water in the vacuum jug if anyone wants to make tea,’ she said.

‘Oh, yes, please, Monica.’ Jo got down a mug and broke open a new packet of teabags.

‘One for me too, please, Jo, while you’re there.’

Jo heard Ralph Mitchell’s voice rumble from the doorway, and smiled. ‘Coming up. Angelo?’

‘Coffee for me, thanks. I’ll get it. Anyone seen Tom?’