Read Online MIRACLE ON KAIMOTU ISLAND/ALWAYS THE HERO by Marion Lennox - Free Book Online
Authors: Marion Lennox
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almost be happy.
But happiness was a long-ago concept. Pre-James.
Happiness went right back to Ben—and there was the biggie.
But why was it unsettling her? Once upon a time she’d thought of him as her best friend. Friends instead of lovers? Why not again?
He wanted her to do more. She could, she conceded. Hannah could look after Button.
Working side by side with Ben?
Why did she keep remembering one hot day in the surf?
Why did the memory scare her stupid?
CHAPTER FOUR
R UNNING A SOLO practice was okay, was even feasible, except in emergencies.
With only ten beds, Kaimotu Hospital was not usually used for acute care. Acute-care cases were sent to the mainland, and now, with only one doctor, it was a case of deeming more cases acute.
With two doctors on the island they could cope with routine things like appendicitis, hernias, minor surgery, but with only one...well, the Hercules transport plane from the mainland got more of a workout.
The islanders hated it. They loathed being shipped to the mainland away from family and friends, but Ben had no choice. Until they found another doctor, this was the only way he could cope.
He did cope—until the night Henry’s ulcer decided to perforate.
* * *
Why did medical emergencies happen in the small hours more often than not? Someone should write a thesis, Ben thought wearily, picking up the phone. His apartment was right by the hospital. He switched his phone through to the nurses’ station while he slept, so he knew the nurse on call had overridden that switch. This call, therefore, meant he was needed.
‘Ben?’ It was Margy, the island’s most senior nurse, and he knew the moment he heard her voice that he had trouble.
‘Mmm?’
‘Henry’s on the phone. I’m putting you through now.’
‘B-Ben?’
The old winemaker wasn’t voluble at the best of times, but now his voice was scarcely a whisper.
‘Yeah, Henry, it’s me. Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘Me guts,’ Henry whispered. ‘Pain...been going on all night. Took them pills you gave me and then some more but nothing’s stopping it and now...vomiting blood, Doc. Couple times. Lotta blood.’
To say his heart sank would be an understatement. He was already out of bed, reaching for his pants.
‘You’re at home? Up on the headland?’
‘Y-yeah.’
‘Okay, I want you to go back to bed and lie very still while I wake Max and Ella up,’ he told him. Max and Ella were the nearest farmers to Henry’s tiny cottage. ‘They’ll bring you down to the hospital. I reckon you might have bleeding from your stomach. It’ll be quicker if they bring you here rather than me go there.’
Besides, he thought, he needed to set up Theatre. Call in nurses.
He needed to call on Ginny. Now.
‘I might make a mess of their car,’ Henry whispered, and Ben told Henry what he thought about messing up a car compared to getting him to hospital fast.
Then he rang Max and Ella and thanked God for good, solid farming neighbours who he knew would take no argument from Henry. There’d also be no tearing round corners on two wheels.
Then he rang Ginny.
* * *
Ginny was curled up in her parents’ big bed, cuddling a sleeping Button—and thinking about Ben.
Why did he keep her awake at night?
He didn’t, she conceded. Everything kept her awake at night.
Memories of James. Memories of blame.
‘You stupid cow, how the hell can you possibly know how I feel? You’re healthy—healthy!—and you stand there acting sorry for me, and you can’t do a thing. Why can’t you get this damned syringe driver to work? How can you sleep when I’m in pain?’
The syringe driver had been working. It wasn’t pain, she thought. It was fear, and fury. He’d had twelve months of illness and he’d blamed her every moment of the way.
So what was she doing, lying in bed now and thinking of another man? Thinking of another relationship?
She wasn’t, she told herself fiercely. She was never going there again.
But happiness was a long-ago concept. Pre-James.
Happiness went right back to Ben—and there was the biggie.
But why was it unsettling her? Once upon a time she’d thought of him as her best friend. Friends instead of lovers? Why not again?
He wanted her to do more. She could, she conceded. Hannah could look after Button.
Working side by side with Ben?
Why did she keep remembering one hot day in the surf?
Why did the memory scare her stupid?
CHAPTER FOUR
R UNNING A SOLO practice was okay, was even feasible, except in emergencies.
With only ten beds, Kaimotu Hospital was not usually used for acute care. Acute-care cases were sent to the mainland, and now, with only one doctor, it was a case of deeming more cases acute.
With two doctors on the island they could cope with routine things like appendicitis, hernias, minor surgery, but with only one...well, the Hercules transport plane from the mainland got more of a workout.
The islanders hated it. They loathed being shipped to the mainland away from family and friends, but Ben had no choice. Until they found another doctor, this was the only way he could cope.
He did cope—until the night Henry’s ulcer decided to perforate.
* * *
Why did medical emergencies happen in the small hours more often than not? Someone should write a thesis, Ben thought wearily, picking up the phone. His apartment was right by the hospital. He switched his phone through to the nurses’ station while he slept, so he knew the nurse on call had overridden that switch. This call, therefore, meant he was needed.
‘Ben?’ It was Margy, the island’s most senior nurse, and he knew the moment he heard her voice that he had trouble.
‘Mmm?’
‘Henry’s on the phone. I’m putting you through now.’
‘B-Ben?’
The old winemaker wasn’t voluble at the best of times, but now his voice was scarcely a whisper.
‘Yeah, Henry, it’s me. Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘Me guts,’ Henry whispered. ‘Pain...been going on all night. Took them pills you gave me and then some more but nothing’s stopping it and now...vomiting blood, Doc. Couple times. Lotta blood.’
To say his heart sank would be an understatement. He was already out of bed, reaching for his pants.
‘You’re at home? Up on the headland?’
‘Y-yeah.’
‘Okay, I want you to go back to bed and lie very still while I wake Max and Ella up,’ he told him. Max and Ella were the nearest farmers to Henry’s tiny cottage. ‘They’ll bring you down to the hospital. I reckon you might have bleeding from your stomach. It’ll be quicker if they bring you here rather than me go there.’
Besides, he thought, he needed to set up Theatre. Call in nurses.
He needed to call on Ginny. Now.
‘I might make a mess of their car,’ Henry whispered, and Ben told Henry what he thought about messing up a car compared to getting him to hospital fast.
Then he rang Max and Ella and thanked God for good, solid farming neighbours who he knew would take no argument from Henry. There’d also be no tearing round corners on two wheels.
Then he rang Ginny.
* * *
Ginny was curled up in her parents’ big bed, cuddling a sleeping Button—and thinking about Ben.
Why did he keep her awake at night?
He didn’t, she conceded. Everything kept her awake at night.
Memories of James. Memories of blame.
‘You stupid cow, how the hell can you possibly know how I feel? You’re healthy—healthy!—and you stand there acting sorry for me, and you can’t do a thing. Why can’t you get this damned syringe driver to work? How can you sleep when I’m in pain?’
The syringe driver had been working. It wasn’t pain, she thought. It was fear, and fury. He’d had twelve months of illness and he’d blamed her every moment of the way.
So what was she doing, lying in bed now and thinking of another man? Thinking of another relationship?
She wasn’t, she told herself fiercely. She was never going there again.
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