‘Don’t do what?’ The feel of her hand was making things even more surrealistic. It was as if he were in a bad dream. Floating.
‘You’re exhausted,’ she said softly. ‘Go to bed.’
Bed. Ha! How could he go to bed?
‘The ambulance boys are still working. There’ll be more people to see before morning.’
‘I can see them,’ she told him.
‘You’re not-’
‘Not registered to work here?’ She drew herself up to her full five feet six inches and glared. ‘No, I’m not. But I’ll tell you what, Dr Llewellyn. I’d rather be treated by me, an unregistered doctor, than by you, a doctor who’s past his sleep-by date. You should be stamped, “This doctor has not slept the requisite number of hours in the past twenty-four.” Truck drivers in the States have a system like that, so I’m introducing it here. Now. Consider yourself stamped, Dr Llewellyn. Go to bed.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Go!’ She put her hands on his shoulders and shoved, a crimson powerhouse, propelling him out into the corridor. Before he knew what she was about, he was on the other side of the door. ‘Go on. Go. I’ll bet your dog’s asleep. You go and join him. Unless you think I’m incapable-which I’m not. If I want to do anything really hard, like the odd spot of neurosurgery, I’ll call you. I promise.’
‘Tess…’
She softened then and smiled up at him, and her smile made his insides feel really strange. Weird.
‘OK. I’ll call you for things a bit less complicated than neurosurgery. For anything I can be sued over if I muck up, I’ll call you. I promise. But go to bed. Please, Mike.’
Her hands were still on his shoulders. He stared down at her and the twisting sensation in his gut got stronger and stronger. What was happening here?
He didn’t have a clue. What mattered though… Hell, she was right. If he didn’t sleep now he’d fall right over. It must be sleeplessness that was making him feel so strange.
What else?
‘OK,’ he said finally-flatly-and his voice came out not as he’d expected. His voice sounded devoid of any emotion-and that was the opposite of what he was feeling. But he knew he couldn’t stay standing here one minute longer. ‘OK, Dr Westcott. I’ll go to bed.’
And somehow he managed to haul himself away from her hands. Somehow he made himself turn around and face the other way and take the few long steps to the bend in the corridor.
When all he wanted to do… All he wanted to do was to gather her into his arms and kiss her.
CHAPTER SIX
MIKE slept until eleven the next morning. He opened his eyes and stared at his clock-and then sat bolt upright. What the hell…?
He swung out of bed, and then paused as a knock resounded on the outer door of his apartment. That must have been what had woken him. He dived under the sheet again, and two seconds later his bedroom door swung wide and Tessa’s face peeped around. When she saw he was awake, she beamed.
‘Well, good morning.’
He could only stare. A rejoinder just wouldn’t come out. Tess was dressed all in white, like a super-efficient little medico. She had on a white lab coat over white pants and T-shirt, white sneakers and a big white ribbon was hauling back that riot of red hair.
‘You like my bridal outfit?’ She whirled, a tray in hand, for him to inspect.
He did. He did very much. She looked just great!
She also smelled great. She stopped whirling and walked across the room to deposit her tray on his bedside table. The tray held fried eggs and bacon, toast and strong black coffee. It seemed an age since supper last night and the smell was just wonderful.
‘Here’s your breakfast,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I left it as long as I could, but any later and it’d have to be lunch. And that’s the last egg you’re allowed this week, Dr Llewellyn. If you’re not worried about your cholesterol then you should be, and as your new medical partner I feel I have to make a stand.’
‘But…’ He stared up at the girl above him, and then he stared at his alarm clock. It must have stopped working. He’d set it for six.
‘I turned it off,’ Tess said, seeing where he was looking. She smiled benignly, for all the world as if she’d done him a favour.
‘You-’
‘I sneaked in to check you were asleep about five a.m,’ she told him blithely. ‘Didn’t see me, huh? I’m a born sneak. And as for Strop! What a watchdog! He snored and rolled over and that’s the only peep I heard out of him. When I opened the door just now, he took one whiff of the bacon and headed for the kitchen at what I can only suppose is what he thinks is a run. Good grief!’
‘But the clock…’ Mike reached to lift the plate of eggs and bacon-and then thought better of it. He made a self- conscious grab at the sheet. Hell, why on earth didn’t he wear pyjamas?
But Tess either didn’t notice or wasn’t fussed at him presenting his nakedness from the hips up. ‘Yeah. The clock. I saw what time you’d set it for,’ she told him. ‘Six a.m.! What sort of a crazy time is that? I turned it off.’ Her smile widened. ‘Aren’t you glad I did?’
‘No,’ he said tersely, hauling his scattered wits together and the sheet higher. ‘I’m not. I have surgery. Saturday morning’s always frantic.’
‘I disagree.’
‘What do you mean-you disagree?’
‘I just did your surgery,’ she said. ‘That’s why I’m dressed like this-as opposed to you being dressed like you are. Very informal, I must say.’ Then, as colour started mounting under his tan, she kept right on going. ‘I figured I had to make a nice efficient impression first off-before everyone gets to know the real me. And it wasn’t frantic at all. It was great fun. I’ve met the nicest bunch of people.’ She grinned down at his confusion. ‘Mind you, I may have prescribed wart medicine for angina, or vice versa.’
‘You’re kidding,’ he said faintly, and she took pity on him and chuckled.
‘Yep. I’m kidding. I’m pretty sure I got everything right. Maureen-your nurse-receptionist-is just the greatest. She sat in with me and we had a copy of
‘What…?’ He shook his head, trying to wake up. This felt just like a dream. ‘What have you seen? Who…?’
‘Lots of things.’ Tess hauled a chair from by the door and sat down beside him. ‘Lots of people. Eat your breakfast. It’s getting cold.’ She lifted the coffee-jug and poured two cups, one for Mike and one for her, then settled back like a visitor in a long-term hospital, here for the duration. Mike’s sense of unreality grew even stronger.
‘I saw Mrs Dingle’s arthritic knee,’ she told him-as though she’d really enjoyed the sensation. ‘I took out Susie Hearn’s stitches. I listened to Bert Sharey’s wheezy chest and his problems with his best heifer, and I gave him antibiotics and a lecture about smoking too much. I told Caroline Robertson she was pregnant, and then I had to tell her husband because they’ve been trying so long they didn’t believe me…’
‘Caroline Robertson’s pregnant?’
‘She’s about three months, I’d say,’ she said serenely. ‘It made me feel good to tell them. They’re very happy.’
‘You’re kidding.’ Mike shook his head. ‘Tess, do you know how important this is? If you’ve made a mistake…’
‘I don’t mistake pregnancy at three months.’ Tess appeared miffed. ‘I agree that some things might be different between Australians and Americans-like their nasal twang and the things they do to peanut butter-but pregnancy shouldn’t be included. I did a full examination and everything’s fine.’
