CAROL MARINELLI - The Outback Nurse

‘Well, he’s busy with building the hospital and he’s flat out here, but I don’t reckon his heart’s in it. I know he’s grieving and I reckon the place has just got too many painful memories for him. I reckon we’ll be lucky if he stays.’

Olivia’s eyes suddenly misted over. Poor Clem. She knew all about painful memories and being alone. But if Jeremy had died? To totally lose someone... She wondered how Clem even managed to get up in the morning. At that moment she heard Clem walk into the room. He stood over her as she tied the last knot, surveying her work. The bitter tang of his cologne was a heady contrast to the chlorhexidine solution she was using on Alex’s wound. Acutely aware of his closeness, her hand trembled slightly as she snipped the silk thread. Clem let out a low whistle and shook his head.

‘You’ve made a rod for your own back Livvy. I couldn’t have done a better job myself. You’ll be doing all the suturing now. Right you are, then, Alex. Keep it clean and dry, and I’ll see you again in a week. Here’s a script for some antibiotics—that’s a nasty cut and we don’t want it getting infected. Any problems in the meantime and you’re to come straight back.’

Alex rolled up his sleeve as Olivia approached with his tetanus shot. ‘Right you are, Clem.’ He got up from the trolley and added, ‘I hope you don’t go scaring this one off—she’s a diamond.’

Olivia blushed but Clem laughed.

‘I’ll try not to.’ He shook Alex’s good hand and reminded him once again to return if needed.

‘Bye, then, Sister. Thanks very much.’

‘No, thank you Alex, for being so patient.’ She smiled warmly at him and hoped all her patients would be as pleasant.

The rest of the morning passed in a whirl of dressings, recording ECGs and taking blood. An old lady eyed Olivia dubiously as she sat her down and produced a tourniquet.

‘Clem normally takes my blood. I’ve got very difficult veins, you know.’

Taking a deep breath, Olivia forced a smile and assured the woman she knew what she was doing, adding, ‘Dr Clemson is so busy this morning he didn’t want to keep you sitting around, waiting for him, when you’ve probably got far better things to do.’

This seemed to appease her and grudgingly the woman offered her arm. Thankfully the needle went straight in.

Finally the last of the patients had been dealt with. Despite this, Betty still had to shepherd out a group of ladies from the waiting room who were conducting an impromptu mothers’ meeting. Firmly closing the door, Betty let out an exaggerated sigh. ‘They’ll be wanting me to serve them tea and biscuits next. Come on, Sister, it’s time for lunch.’

Leading Olivia through the surgery to the private part of the house she took her into the lounge room. Again, it was beautifully furnished, the walls lined with books, heavy drapes blocking out the harsh midday sun. Kathy must have used her talents in here as well. In one of the huge jade leather chairs, which clashed ravishingly with the dark crimson rug, sat a fat ginger cat. In the other chair, looking equally relaxed, sat Clem. His tie loosened, he was working his way through a large pile of sandwiches.

‘Come in, come in. Ruby’s done us proud as always— help yourself,’ he said, offering her a plate. ‘Don’t wait to be asked or there won’t be anything left. Isn’t that right, Betty?’

Always conscious of eating in front of strangers and still full from her large breakfast, Olivia picked gingerly at a huge roast beef sandwich Betty had cheerfully put on her plate.

‘Coffee, Sister?’

‘Thank you, Betty, and, please, it’s Olivia, remember.’

‘Cream and sugar, Sister?’ she asked, completely ignoring her request.

Didn’t anybody here use the right name?

‘No, just black will be fine.’

Clem raised his eyebrows. ‘I’d suggest you tuck in, Livvy, we’ve got a busy afternoon ahead of us. I don’t know what time we’ll finish.’

‘But I had a huge breakfast,’ Olivia protested, then, seeing the expression on their faces, she hastily took a bite.

A talk show was on television, wives confronting their husbands’ mistresses. That was all she needed.

Betty was lecturing her on the benefits of thermal underwear for night calls. ‘It can be cold at night if you have to go out in a hurry,’ she said, looking disapprovingly at Olivia’s skinny legs. A psychologist on the television show was banging on about how wives often let themselves go after they got married. Jeremy had certainly accused her of that and they hadn’t even made it up the aisle!

‘I’m quite sure Olivia wouldn’t be seen dead in thermals. Isn’t that right?’ Clem teased.

Olivia thought glumly of the small fortune she had spent on sexy underwear in an attempt to resuscitate her and Jeremy’s dying sex life. All to no avail. ‘Dr Clemson— Clem,’ Olivia said curtly, ‘as friendly as you’ve all been, I’m sure you wouldn’t expect me to discuss my underwear—or was there something in my job description I didn’t read?’

Betty coughed nervously; the television blared out the merits of keeping an air of mystery in the bedroom. Clem merely threw his head back and laughed loudly.

‘Good for you. We’re far too familiar here. Come on, we’ve got work to do.’ And picking up the half-eaten sandwich left on her plate, he took a huge bite. Olivia watched distastefully and stood up.

‘And if I’m not being too personal,’ Clem said with more than a hint of sarcasm, ‘may I suggest you go and put on some sunscreen and a hat? Half my house calls seem to be done in the middle of a field. Some insect repellent might be useful, too.’

Outside, he handed her the keys to a large black four-wheel-drive.

‘This is yours, but I’ll drive today, give you a chance to get your bearings. Just put the petrol on my account at the garage.’

‘Wonderful.’ That was a relief. She had been beginning to wonder if ‘transport provided’ might mean a bus pass.

‘Before we head off I’ll just show you the set-up.’ He opened the back door. ‘As you can see, I’ve got all the back seats down. It’s better to keep it like that so if the need arises you can transfer someone supine. There’s a camp-bed mattress rolled up in the corner there, with a pillow and some blankets.’ He opened up a large medical emergency box. ‘I’ll run through the box. Pay attention— you don’t know when you might need it.’

Olivia bristled. She was only too aware of the importance of the equipment Clem was showing her—he hardly needed to tell her to listen.

‘All the usual emergency drugs and intravenous solutions, all clearly labelled—giving sets, needles, syringes.’ He took out each piece of equipment in turn, gave her a short lecture on its use and then replaced it. Olivia stood there, silently fuming. While she appreciated him showing her the contents, he was talking to her as if she were a first-year nursing student. ‘An intubation kit,’ Clem stated as he held up a plastic box clearly marked INTUBATION KIT.

‘Is it?’

Clem chose to ignore her, instead painstakingly going through the various tube sizes and the appropriate ages they would be used on. Olivia automatically picked up the laryngoscope and checked that the bulb was working—it would be no fun attempting to put an intubation tube down an unconscious patient’s throat if the light didn’t work.

‘There’s spare bulbs here, but check it weekly. Have you ever intubated a patient before?’ Clem enquired.

‘Yes, several, but only in a controlled setting. Mr Dean insisted his senior nursing staff knew how, just in case. Anyway, it helps assisting doctors if you’ve done it yourself.’ She thought for a moment. ‘But I’ve never intubated anyone without supervision.’ Clem heard the note of tension creep into her voice.