‘Why are you an anaesthetist?’ Nate asked again, and she paused, bit into her toast and forced herself to stop panicking-stop feeling like she was being unduly pressured-and think.
‘I’m good at it.’
‘Is that the only reason?’
‘No.’
‘Well?’
Leaving Alan out of it-why else? Why?
‘I…I run a pain clinic,’ she said hesitantly. ‘At Sydney Central. It seemed an important thing to do.’ And it was true. The pain clinic gave her an enormous amount of satisfaction. Maybe not as much as family medicine could, but it kept Alan happy. Or…maybe happy was too strong a word. It kept him off her back.
And it was a response that pleased the two men questioning her. ‘I knew it.’ Nate’s voice rose on a note of triumph. ‘Didn’t I tell you?’ he demanded of Graham. He turned back to Gemma. ‘So you didn’t go into anaesthetics to make money?’
Anger surged-because his question had just enough truth in it to sting. But she wasn’t admitting that. ‘Why should you think I’m in it for the money? I’m good at what I do-and I enjoy it.’
‘I’ll bet you are.’
‘And I’ve always been interested in pain relief.’ She hesitated but then continued. ‘My grandpa… He died of bone metastases and his pain control was less than perfect. I thought…well, after he died I had to make a choice about specialising and I thought maybe I could make a difference.’ And as soon as she’d decided on anaesthetics there had been Alan-and no possibility of backing out.
But Nate had moved on. ‘We could set up a pain clinic here.’ His tone was triumphant. ‘Gemma, this district… we feed to Blairglen but the district itself is huge. If you were to set up a pain clinic here you’d have half a practice without even advertising. If you’re prepared to do home visits the local hospice nurses would fall on your neck.’
‘But I don’t want-’
‘Don’t want what? Do you really like living in the city?’ he demanded, and his question almost took her breath away.
Did she like the city? She’d never thought about it.
She’d been raised in Sydney’s inner suburbs. By the time she’d had a choice about leaving, her grandfather had been ill and depending on her. And then there had been Fiona… And Alan. And Cady.
‘You’ve never given it a shot.’ Nate’s tone was still exultant. ‘Hell, Gemma, you can do as much good here as in the city. More. A competent anaesthetist who’s interested in pain relief… You can’t leave. You can’t.’
‘She can,’ Graham said dryly without raising his voice. ‘Leave the girl be, Nate. You’re pushing too hard.’
‘I’m not.’
‘You are. Make Gemma some coffee.’
‘But-’
‘Slow down, Nate.’ The doctor’s old eyes were warm and understanding. ‘Gemma, don’t look like that. Like we’re holding you prisoner and throwing away the key. We’re not.’
‘But-’
‘But we’re asking you to give us a chance.’ His smile was exactly the same as his nephew’s. Magnetic in its warmth. ‘Give this place a try. Nate says you’re without a job and your little nephew needs a chance to recover.’
‘He needs the city,’ she said, distressed. ‘A paediatrician…’
‘If you’ll trust us then we can help there,’ the old doctor said gently, and she frowned.
‘You?’
‘I may be seventy-six but I’m not useless and neither is Nate.’ He saw her uncertainty and went on without giving her a chance to voice her doubts. ‘I’m a diabetic myself and I have been for fifty years. There’s nothing like suffering a complaint yourself for focusing the mind on current research-and as my health has deteriorated Nate’s knowledge has grown. There’s not a lot about current diabetic practice that Nate doesn’t know, and we have friends who specialise in paediatric diabetes who are on the end of the phone. We know enough to call them when we need them.’
Gemma didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to hurt their feelings but…
‘We’ll have Jacob Burt call you,’ Nate told her.
‘Jacob…’ She knew Jacob. He was one of Sydney Central’s leading paediatricians and she knew he was an internationally acknowledged leader in paediatric diabetic management. It was Jacob she’d been thinking of when she’d said she had to get Cady back to Sydney.
‘Graham’s travelled up to Sydney once a fortnight for thirty years and now I’ve taken over,’ Nate told her, seeing her doubts. ‘We’ve been part of Jacob’s research team. It’s been damnably difficult with Graham ill-finding the time-but it’s the one link with the outside medical world we’ve fought to retain. But you don’t need to take our word for it. I rang Jacob last night to check that I was doing the right thing, and if you like I’ll have Jacob call you to confirm it.’
This was the truth. She met Nate’s look and she knew without a doubt that Jacob would confirm every word that she’d just heard.
There were diabetic experts right here. That meant that for a short while-just while she got her bearings, or at least until Alan interfered-she could stay here.
She could be a part of this.
She looked around her-at the two men watching her with grave courtesy. At the baby sleeping steadily in her crib. At the flickering firelight and the snoozing dog.
They were asking her to be part of it.
As Fiona had been.
Fiona had been a fool.
‘Stay for a couple of weeks,’ Nate said softly. ‘Give us a trial.’
Damn, he was smiling that smile again. The smile that had had Fiona deciding she wanted his baby. The smile that could break a woman’s heart just by-
No! She wasn’t going down that road. She had more sense.
She could try it out. Just for two weeks. Alan would surely grant her that. And then she could walk away.
They were both watching her. Waiting.
And suddenly it was easy.
‘For a couple of weeks? Yes, please,’ she said, and as she smiled back at the pair of them she thought, What on earth have I done?
Graham left them soon after.
‘There’s a spot of fishing calling,’ he told them, and smiled. ‘As long as you don’t need me?’
‘We don’t need you,’ Nate said and as the old man left, the ancient dog at his heels, Nate smiled at Gemma like a conspirator.
‘You don’t know how good it is to tell him that,’ he told her. ‘Just knowing he doesn’t have to carry his mobile phone, he’ll be able to spend the morning on the river with the knowledge that if there’s an emergency I have you. I won’t have to call him back.’
So they were depending on her already. It felt…strange. Like fine gossamer threads of netting were gently settling on her shoulders. Holding her whether she willed it or not.
And then Mrs McCurdle, the woman who ‘did’ for them, bustled into the kitchen. She enveloped Mia in her overpowering maternal bosom. Nate gave Gemma a sideways grin and ushered her out, giving her the sensation that they were making their escape. Maybe it wasn’t just Gemma who felt like she was being trapped. Mrs McCurdle, burbling on about the doctor’s new wee baby, obviously made Nate feel exactly the same.
‘She’s a good soul,’ Nate told her as they made their way through to the hospital. ‘But a little bit of her goes a long way.’
‘I can see that.’
But his thoughts had moved onto medicine. ‘Let’s see to your nephew. To Cady.’
