A Family Friend

Book 0: Three Sisters Series

by Gill Sanderson

Genres: Romance; Contemporary Romance; Medical Romance; Workplace Romance

Synopsis

Three caring sisters ~in need of a loving family~ The Perfect Team The youngest of three sisters, Rosalind was used to fighting for what she wanted, and Mark was going to be no exception. Rosalind thought that Mark was the man for her ? funny, intelligent, and gorgeous! In and out of the Hospital However, Mark was her boss and ten years her senior. Rosalind had her whole career before her and Mark had decided that getting involved wouldn?t be fair on her. But Rosalind had never let anyone make her decisions for her and she wasn?t about to start now.

Release date: December 18, 2013

Publisher: Accent Press

Print pages: 144

Sample

Chapter One

Usually, Rosalind Grey didn’t show her emotions, but when the rising sun first flashed across the sea she couldn’t resist a gasp of delight. The tiny Pacific island which was their destination looked like an emerald on a plate of gold.

She turned her head. The government ship that had dropped them was now just a dark mark on the horizon.

They were alone – just one small boat, buzzing across the water, and the island. She wondered what she’d find there.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said to Noah, the male nurse, who was piloting the little craft with all his ancestors’ skill.

Noah beamed at her. ‘Of course it is, missy,’ he said, ‘apart from the malaria, leprosy, beri-beri and dental caries.’

She laughed. ‘You’re a cynic, Noah. Spent too much time training in civilisation.’

‘Where there’s traffic accidents and pollution, as well as the other things. No, I like it here best.’

She pulled at her life-jacket and eased herself around, taking care not to rock the little boat. ‘You visit this island every six months? Why, if there’s a doctor there already?’

He shrugged. ‘He’ll only be here for a year. I need to come regularly – get to know people. But for a while they’re lucky to have their own doctor. The next three islands have to manage with my odd visits and the radio if there’s a real emergency.’

‘I see.’ For a while Rosalind was content just to sit. Seldom in her life had she seen such unspoiled beauty.

But the mood soon passed. She was here to learn, perhaps to help. ‘I’m glad Dr Parang gave me the chance to come with you,’ she said. She smiled to herself. ‘He wasn’t very keen.’

She closed her eyes, remembering her first interview with Dr Parang, the head of the hospital that serviced this scattering of tiny Pacific islands. He hadn’t been quite sure what to make of her. He’d rarely had the chance to welcome visitors from his old English medical school but ... He’d looked at the small but formidable figure in front of him.

‘The previous trainees have all been male,’ he said doubtfully. ‘Medicine here requires a certain toughness. But I’m sure we’ll find something to interest you.’

‘I feel I can do everything that my predecessors did,’ Rosalind said frostily. ‘Except perhaps play, or talk about, rugby. I certainly don’t want an easy life.’

Dr Parang winced. He’d played rugby for the medical school. He had been rather looking forward to a chat about the respective England and Australian teams.

‘I know you’re supposed to just observe,’ he said, ‘but we are short-staffed. If you can help with treatment we’d be grateful.’

‘I’m happy to do anything so long as there’s someone in authority, such as yourself, that I can refer to. I’m here to work.’

Dr Parang appeared gratified. ‘Most kind. We’ll start you on the gynaecological ward,’ he said, ‘then perhaps the children’s ward.’ 

‘Work suitable for women?’ Rosalind asked, still with ice in her voice.

Dr Parang smiled; she realised that for the first time he was feeling that he was scoring a point. ‘I can assure you that you will find much of interest in the wards,’ he murmured.

And she had. Medicine was practised in wards with walls open to the sea breeze. There were too many sick people and not enough equipment, not enough drugs, not enough skilled help. She ‘observed’ for half a day. In the afternoon she suggested what she could do, and was given her own patients.

Dr Parang watched and was impressed. He didn’t need to supervise much. After a while he moved her to the medical and surgical wards. She watched, practised and learned. Without complaint she worked the ludicrously long hours. Perhaps she couldn’t talk about rugby – but the doctor knew she was making his task easier.

Then she asked if she could go on one of the trips to the outlying islands.

Dr Parang frowned. ‘I know you don’t want a holiday,’ he said, ‘but these trips can be hard. Much of the time you’ll travel by motorised canoe. Sleeping accommodation can be simple, if not downright uncomfortable.’

‘I’d still like to go if I won’t do any actual harm,’ she said. ‘I feel I’ve managed here quite well. Have you any complaints about my work?’

‘Indeed, no. It has been ... exemplary.’

Like so many men before him, Dr Parang had learned that arguing with Rosalind was unproductive. It wasn’t that she got angry or raised her voice, just that she always seemed to be right.

 ‘You may go,’ he said. ‘There is much you will learn. I’m sure you’ll cope – after all, you’ve coped with everything so far. And on Malapa Island you’ll find one of your compatriots. He might be glad of a visit.’

Dr Parang appeared to consider. ‘There, again, he might not.

I’ll radio him, saying a trainee will be calling with Noah, but I’ll not tell him which sex.’

This intrigued Rosalind but, having got her own way about the trip, she decided not to push her luck by demanding details.

For two days she’d travelled on the little government steamer, eating with Noah, the captain and crew and sleeping in a corner of the deck. Then, before dawn, she’d been dropped in the middle of the dark Pacific in a tiny boat loaded with medical supplies. It would be unsafe for the steamer to try to get closer. ‘You’ll enjoy the trip,’ the captain said.

Rosalind thought of sharks and other less defined marine horrors. She nodded curtly. ‘Of course I will.’ She intended to.

Now, half an hour later, she knew the captain had been right. The island was getting nearer – she could make out individual palm trees. She could see light waves, breaking on the reef that surrounded the island.

Expertly, Noah steered through a gap and into the calmer waters of the lagoon. ‘Soon be there now, Miss Rosalind.’

The sea had turned from gold into an incredible blue, and the pre-dawn chill was disappearing. Soon, she knew, it would be stickily hot. On the sandy white beach ahead she could see naked little children, splashing and waving. Then the first adult appeared, a man dressed simply in a brightly coloured pareu – the wrap-around skirt worn by both sexes. Other men and women followed. The entire village must have turned out to greet them.

Behind her, Noah said in a surprised voice, ‘No Dr Mark on shore. I would have thought he’d come down.’

‘Perhaps he’s busy,’ Rosalind suggested.

‘Perhaps he is.’ Noah was not convinced.

The little boat touched the sand. Before she could step out a dozen men had splashed into the water, grabbed the gunwales and hauled the boat and its passengers well onto the beach. She was aware of the amazed, wide eyes of the children and the rapid chatter of the adults.

Pulling up her pareu, she stepped stiffly out of the boat. Then she unbuckled her life-jacket. It was already too hot inside it.

Noah issued orders and the boxes and bags in the boat were lifted out and carried up the beach. Something was wrong – he looked troubled. Now, she noticed, the men and women speaking to him did not have the usual big smiles she’d come to expect.

‘Dr Mark doesn’t come because he’s ill,’ Noah translated. ‘He’s sick, he can’t get out of bed. But why hasn’t he radioed for help?’

‘Let’s go to find out,’ she said.

She followed Noah’s reassuringly solid form as they walked first through the mangrove swamp and then into a grove of coconut trees. It was hot out of the breeze, and she felt the first trickle of sweat down her back. She was dressed as everyone here was – in a cotton T-shirt and pareu – but still she felt the heat. She would have liked to have gone barefoot, but had quickly learned that injuries and infections of the feet thrived here.

The procession passed through the little village – a dozen men with bags and packages on their heads, Noah and Rosalind, and a crowd of onlookers, following behind. She’d now got used to being a source of good- humoured curiosity. A quarter of a mile beyond the village they came to the doctor’s house.

It was built on a little knoll to take advantage of what breeze there might be. Like the native huts, it was built of wood with a corrugated-iron roof. Unlike the native huts, it was very, very neat. There was an almost military precision about the shell path, the garden, the single table and chair on the verandah and the mosquito nets in the open windows. In the background she could hear the ever-present rattle of the diesel generator, powering the electrical supply.

Noah ordered the boxes – and Rosalind’s own tiny bag – to be stored in an outhouse. Then he spoke again and the villagers reluctantly moved away.

‘They are worried,’ Noah said, ‘but I have told them I will speak to them later.’ He led the way across the verandah and tapped on the side of the doorway. An anxious-looking girl, aged about eighteen, came quickly to let them in. There was another swift exchange in the native tongue, then the girl turned to Rosalind and said carefully, ‘Good morning, Miss Rosalind. I am pleased to meet you.’

‘The doctor is teaching Matilda to speak English,’ Noah explained.

They stepped straight into the main room. It seemed to double as surgery and living room and was totally bare of any personal touch. In a corner were chairs and a table. There was a cane couch, a rack of books and the usual radio – nothing to suggest the character of the resident except the implacable neatness.

‘Matilda says the doctor has recently got worse,’ Noah said, after another swift conversation. ‘He became ill very quickly.’ He opened a door at the back of the living room. ‘Dr Mark, it’s Noah,’ he called. There was no reply. He and Rosalind entered the room.

The bedroom was equally neat and sparce. There was a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a pile of boxes, but Rosalind’s eyes were drawn to the still figure on the narrow bed.

He was lying on his front, one arm on the floor. She could see a shock of dark blond hair and a beard. The sheet that covered the man was damp but he was shivering and his breathing was laboured, stertorous.

‘Doctor needs a doctor,’ Noah said anxiously.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Pity I’m not one – yet.’ She remembered the words of her lecturer. ‘First, ABC. Check airway, breathing, circulation. Then don’t be in too much of a hurry with your diagnosis. Always ask as much as possible, before examining or treating.’

‘Find out what happened.’ She turned to Noah.

After another swift conversation with Matilda, Noah said, ‘Two days ago there was a big wind. Dr Mark was in one of the huts when the roof fell in. A piece of metal roof dropped on him and his back was gashed bad. He told Matilda here to clean the cut and to dress it. She did, but next day the doctor didn’t get out of bed.’

Rosalind looked at Matilda’s desperate face and leaned over to pat the girl’s arm. ‘I’m sure you did everything you could,’ she said gently. ‘Now, let’s have a look.’  

 She knelt by the bed. The man looked to be in his early thirties. She could see pain lines around his eyes and mouth. ‘Dr Harrison,’ she said, ‘can you hear me? I’m Rosalind Grey.’

An eye opened in the pain-racked face, surprisingly blue against the tanned skin and dark blond hair. For a lightning moment she was reminded of the morning sea after the golden glow of dawn.

For a while his expression was vague, then she saw him make an effort and intelligence returned, although he didn’t raise his head. ‘What are you doing here?’ he muttered.

‘I’m a trainee medical student. I’m here on my elective.’ Even through the pain she could see his surprise.

‘Medical student? But you’re a – ’

‘Please don’t say I’m a woman,’ she said peevishly. ‘I already know.’

‘I’m sure you do. Well, woman trainee doctor, you’re on your own. You could radio for another doctor but it would be two or three days before anyone arrived. You’ll just have to do the best you can yourself. Good luck.’ He sighed, his eyes closed and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

His voice had been soft and weak, but there had been a definite sardonic overtone that she found unsettling. He doesn’t seem worried about his predicament, she thought to herself. But I am.

On the chest of drawers was a stout canvas bag – she’d seen the other island doctors with one. Inside were the tools of their trade. She took out what she needed and gave him a quick examination. His pulse was fast and thready. His temperature was far too high – she could tell that by putting her hand on his forehead. But he was shivering. She didn’t think the profuse sweating was caused by the heat. When she looked at his finger- nails she could see signs of cyanosis. But it was his blood pressure that was the cause for real concern. It was far, far too low.

It was time to look at the injury. Pulling back the sheet, she uncovered a wound – a deep cut in his shoulder. Her mouth twisted. It was the one place on the body that a person could neither examine closely nor treat.

The wound had been cleaned and dressed, and clumsily applied plastic butterfly stitches held it closed.

Gently she felt the side of the cut. Beneath her, the semiconscious man gasped with pain. Rosalind winced. She thought there was something still in the cut. It would have to come out.

Once again, as taught, she reviewed all the information she had. No matter how busy you are, the lecturer had said, don’t make an instantaneous decision. Ninety- nine per cent of the time you will be right. One per cent might be wrong. Think a minute. So she thought. In the past she had made more difficult diagnoses than this but this time she was alone, with was no superior to help her.

 ‘I think it’s septicaemia,’ she said. ‘What used to be called blood poisoning. And it’s led to septic shock. It’s not so common now we have. . .