Fiona McArthur - A Doctor, A Fling & A Wedding Ring

But all they’d been able to manage was Nick replacing Kiki for the two weeks or her bar manager’s job would go. Luckily for Kiki, he didn’t mind. He’d been due for a holiday anyway.

His ex-girlfriend, Jasmin, had been getting way too serious and not been pleased to jet off from Rome to New York on her own. Hence the relief in his newly single status. Family came first and he made no apologies. Especially when it suited him.

His attention flicked back to the lecture. The safety officer discussed the routine of a compulsory muster for all passengers before they sailed and outlined the crew’s duties as emergency officers. Not much had changed and he was glad to see he was on the same station as Tara.

With over three thousand passengers and one thousand crew members the ship would give enough opportunities for her to slip out of sight. He couldn’t remember when he’d last been so aware of planning to ‘bump into’ a woman.

Usually it just happened—or not. Funny how he didn’t feel the same relaxed acceptance of fate with this slip of a medic beside him. Must be because she looked so frail—in an I-can-look-after-myself way that dared him to mention it. He wasn’t saying a thing but he’d be watching for her.

But as the middle child and only male in the family, it was his job to make everyone smile. After his parents had died it had been even more reason to be the entertainer. He was still the entertainer. He could show this Tara a very good time.

* * *

Tara walked away from Nick Fender. Fender? She could imagine the guy with an air guitar, thrusting his hips and pretending.

She blinked. What? Had she left her brain back in that room? She concentrated on the directions to the hospital pinned to the wall in front of her.

She had to keep reminding herself she was at work. It was so strange without the need to rush from one emergency to the next.

With the help of the occasional map, Tara navigated two stairwells and a corridor and found her way back to the hospital where Marie, the head nurse, was shifting boxes of supplies.

‘Let me help with that.’ Tara hurried forward and helped lift the other side of an awkwardly shaped parcel Marie wanted on the desk.

The nurse brushed the hair out of her eyes when the parcel was safely stowed. ‘Thanks, Tara. It’s the new ECG machine. It wasn’t heavy but, boy, was it awkward.’

‘So what else can I do for you?’ Tara glanced around. Boxes everywhere.

Marie grinned at her. ‘Seriously, I’m just unpacking. First day is all about unpacking and stowing.’

Tara rubbed her hands. Activity would be excellent. ‘Then I’ll help. It’s the best way to find where things live anyway. Can’t be asking you where everything is all the time.’

The two women smiled at each other and Tara felt like she’d gone the first step to making at least one friend. ‘Always happy to have help. Though you’ll have to go through the crew’s notes before we leave this afternoon. Those with illnesses they’ve notified us of, anyway.’

She gestured Tara through to the ward area and a sterile supply room. ‘Reckon this will be the place that confuses you most.’

The storeroom was wall-to-wall shelves. She glanced around and Tara wondered if she’d get back to being as easy to talk to as Marie was. Her own conversation skills needed repolishing—just those few exchanges with air-guitar Nick had shown her that—and she wanted to fit in. Drop her doom-and-gloom mantle that had grown since she’d married and try at least to pretend to join in with ‘normal’ people.

The day passed swiftly, especially when the passengers came on board. Most of them looked as lost as Tara had been when she’d been out of the hospital but the mood was high and excited and totally different from the world Tara had just left.

Tara stood with Marie on the deck and watched the lines being cast off, then they eased away from the dock and maybe she could adjust to the sway of the ship and the routines on board. It was all so different from the hectic rush from one dire patient to the next.

Normally the clinic for passengers opened three times a day for two hours. The crew phoned down for quick access most of the time.

Today the passenger clinic would open once except for emergencies—most of which Wilhelm would deal with. Lovely change. She only dealt with occupational mishaps of the crew, minor illnesses among them, and passenger cabin calls when Wilhelm couldn’t attend.

Even her cabin on the crew deck seemed outrageously luxurious compared to her tent at the camp. Air-conditioning and hot and cold running water and a porthole that was much larger than she’d expected and afforded an amazing view across the water. She just might be in heaven.

WHEN Tara woke on her first morning they weren’t even at sea. They’d docked at six a.m. She’d never got around to really studying the itinerary before she’d boarded, had been so busy finding routes and equipment that when she opened the blinds, pleasure craft and even a castle on a mountain seemed surreal. Here she was, peering out of her window at the glorious bay of Monte Carlo.

Another good night’s sleep had lightened her step and she found herself smiling as passengers oohed and ahhed over the rich and famous playground off which they’d anchored. There was something amazingly special about sitting at anchor on a floating hotel adjacent to a charming principality.

When Tara walked into the clinic waiting room she found it surprisingly busy for a day in port until she realised that most passengers wanted their tests and injections before they left on the tenders heading for shore.

When she offered to help with the backlog, Marie sent her in a young mother and her small son.

The woman was petite, perfectly coiffed and immaculately dressed. ‘I’m Gwen, and this is my son, Tommy.’ The woman patted his head and touched her son’s forehead. ‘I’m so worried. He’s got spots. He’s not contagious, is he?’

I sincerely hope not, Tara thought as she looked down at the little boy. ‘Hello, Tommy.’ Tara bent down and the little boy held out his hand for Tara to shake. His skin wasn’t hot or dry and his eyes were clear.

‘Is he getting German measles? He has spots,’ his mother said again, clasping and unclasping her hands, and Tara felt the pull of sympathy for Tommy and his obviously distressed mum.

‘You poor thing. Imagine that on the first day of your holiday. But I think he’s fine. It may be a heat rash. Does he seem unwell to you?’ She looked at the reading from the digital thermometer she’d just used in Tommy’s ear.

Tara had seen more than enough German measles to be fairly certain this wasn’t a case. The rash wasn’t typical, barely visible and mildly pink, and the little boy didn’t present as being unwell, but she gave the mother a list of other signs and suggested she bring him back if they manifested.

The mother nodded her head with concern. ‘He’s normally a little terror. Are you sure the spots are okay?’

‘Yes, but you did the right thing bringing him in to check. Especially if he’s going into the child activity centre.’

Gwen shook her head vehemently. ‘Oh, no. I’d never do that. There’s just the two of us. His dad left us, you see, and we’re visiting my sister in Mykonos on holiday. Sometimes he’s not a well little boy and on the ship I don’t have to travel without being safe. It’s Tommy’s holiday too.’

Tara smiled at the pair. ‘He’s very lucky to have you. Bring him back if you’re worried, Gwen.’

Tara showed them out and Marie sent in an older lady who wanted her ear looked at for wax. Marie was chewing her lip, trying not to laugh, and Tara pretended to frown at her. This was not life-threatening stuff at all but the waiting room was emptying. Still no crew and at this rate they’d be clear of patients before the two hours was up.