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He stayed at the hospital while the paediatrician did their own assessment of the little girl then admitted her overnight for observation. Instead of leaving, Philippe settled down in a chair next to the cot in the nursery. He even asked if he could give the baby her first feed, which she gulped hungrily.
He wasn’t flustered when crowded by all the other staff who were anxious to see the new baby. In fact, he dealt with it like an old pro, smiling, answering politely and giving everyone a chance to see the new arrival. But what she did notice was the way he expertly circumvented answering specific questions about himself. It made her curious because she recognised the skill—it was something she’d done herself on occasion. How much did she actually know about this guy—apart from the fact he was a real doctor with good references? She made a note to try and find out if he’d been working in the last few months—that was where the gap in his CV was.
Eventually, they were left alone to get the baby settled. She still had half a mind that Philippe would make an excuse and go back to his bed in the luxury resort. But he didn’t. He finished feeding the baby and changed her nappy, all the while firing questions at Arissa about the safe haven scheme and the outcomes for babies like this.
They finally settled on a name—suggested by one of the nursing staff—Dian.
Philippe rested back in the wide armchair and nestled Dian into the crook of his arm, stroking his finger across her forehead and down her nose. ‘Well, little Dian, you’ve had an unusual start in this life. But you’re here, you’re safe, and hopefully your mum is too.’
Arissa could see a million things swirling around in his mind. Part of her wondered if a man who obviously came from money would be judgemental about what led a woman or girl to abandon their baby. But nothing like that came from his lips. All she could read on his face was empathy and part of her heart swelled in her chest at his reactions to little Dian.
In fact, he’d really surprised her. He sat there all night, asking a few questions about what would happen now with Dian, but mainly just holding the baby and talking to her.
‘Aren’t you tired?’ Arissa asked finally.
‘Sure.’ He shrugged, but his dark brown eyes still had a bit of sparkle in them. ‘But no more than usual.’ He looked around. ‘And this...’ he smiled down at Dian ‘...is different. How many times as a doctor have you cursed yourself because you haven’t had enough time to do something? How many times have you wanted a few more hours just to spend with a family, and give them some comfort?’ He gave a little nod as he looked at Dian again. ‘Tomorrow, Dian will go to a foster family, who’ll hopefully have all the time in the world to support her. But for now...’ his gaze met hers again ‘...it’s you, and me.’ Dian gave a little whimper and he tucked her up onto his shoulder and gently rubbed her back. ‘And let’s face it—this isn’t so bad?’ He stretched out his legs and put them on the low table in front of him. ‘What else would a guy do? Eat fancy dinners? Drink champagne cocktails?’ He winked. ‘That is how you think I spend my time, isn’t it?’
Her stomach gave a little flip. Maybe it was time to start making her facial expressions less obvious. ‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Yeah.’ He nodded, a gleam in his eye. ‘You did. But let’s just call it getting-to-know-you time.’
Heat rushed into her cheeks and she gave an embarrassed shudder, before biting her bottom lip and trying to get comfortable in the chair next to him.
She didn’t want to leave Dian either. It just seemed wrong that this poor little girl would spend her first day on this earth without someone to cuddle her during the night. The hospital staff knew her. They weren’t the least surprised to see her settle in for the night, and a few were already casting interested glances in Philippe’s direction. By morning, tongues would be wagging. She’d just have to make sure she introduced him formally as the temporary clinic doctor.
* * *
He was singing. And it totally wasn’t what she’d expected.
But to be honest she wasn’t sure what she’d expected at all. All the preconceived ideas she might have had about her upper-class guest were rapidly disappearing out of the window.
They’d come straight here from the hospital and had a quick chat first thing about the types of patients who normally attended the clinic. Temur Sapora had once had a mining industry, so chest complaints were common in the older population. Philippe had volunteered to see all the respiratory complaints and he seemed to be doing well. Until she heard him singing...
She pulled back one of the curtains. ‘What is that?’ She couldn’t help but ask.
Philippe was sitting next to an elderly local man whose shirt was open. Philippe had a stethoscope pressed to the man’s chest and both were singing along and laughing. Philippe turned towards her. ‘That,’ he said in mock horror, ‘is Frank Sinatra. You mean you didn’t recognise it?’ He tutted and shook his head. ‘Youngsters these days, Rahim. They don’t recognise one of the greats when they hear it.’
Arissa couldn’t help the smile on her face. ‘Oh, I recognise the greats, but no one could recognise that,’ she said.
Rahim erupted in laughter, than started coughing and spluttering. Philippe shot her a look and stood up, moving to the nearby sink to wash his hands. ‘It looks like Rahim has another chest infection. We were trying singing to see if it could help his lung capacity.’
He was choosing his words carefully. It was clear that Rahim, like many of the people around here, had chronic obstructive airways disease. His colour was poor and his breathing rapid. Any delay in treatment could end up in a hospital admission. Philippe moved over to the medicine cabinet. ‘I’m going to dispense some antibiotics for Rahim to take away with him, so we can get him started on treatment without delay.’
She liked the way he was obviously trying to put the man at ease.
Now she really did smile. He knew that for a patient like Rahim, writing a prescription that would have to be taken to a pharmacy and dispensed wasn’t the way to go. More often than not, patients like Rahim wouldn’t fill their prescriptions. Some might assume it could be down to cost—and it could be, but not always. Other times some of the older patients didn’t want to be a nuisance, or forgot to fill their prescriptions. There was a whole variety of reasons. But Philippe was doing exactly what she would have done—making sure the medicine was in the hands of the patient who required it.
The very fact that she didn’t have to explain any of this to Philippe made her wonder about him a little bit more.
She gave him a nod and let him finish, moving on to the next patient.
A few hours later he appeared behind her, an empty coffee cup in his hand. ‘Okay, I’ve snagged a cup. But where do we find the coffee?’
She glanced out at the waiting room that had finally quietened after her morning’s immunisation clinic.
She gestured with her head. ‘Come on. I’ll take you to the magic.’
She led him through to the small kitchen at the back of the clinic, switched on the percolator and flicked open the nearest cupboard, which was stocked from top to bottom with a variety of coffee.
Philippe blinked, then laughed. He lifted his hand. ‘What is it? Did some kind of rep come here and give you his whole supply?’
Arissa folded her arms and leaned against the wall, watching him for a few moments. ‘Maybe. Or maybe it’s just a rule that every doctor that works here has to buy their favourite kind of coffee before they leave.’
His eyes widened. ‘Exactly how many doctors have you had working here?’
She gave a sigh. ‘A lot. There are no permanent doctors here. Haven’t been for years.’
He frowned as he pulled one of the packets of coffee from the cupboard, gave it a quick appreciative sniff and loaded it into the machine. ‘So how on earth do you keep things running?’
She shook her head as she grabbed another mug. ?
?I don’t. We...’ she held out her hands ‘...the community does. I commit all my holidays to working here.’
He stared at her for a few seconds. ‘All of your holidays?’
She nodded. ‘Sure. Have done for the last five years. Temur Sapora is home. This is where I’d come for my holidays anyway—so why not come here and work? We have lots of volunteers. Though I have to admit that the wound-healing project has definitely been a boost.’
The smell of coffee started to fill the room. ‘So, you’re telling me that this whole clinic is staffed by volunteers?’
She smiled. ‘Yes, and no. There are three permanent nursing staff and two administrators. They’re actually the most important people of all—they handle the rota.’
‘So, there are more doctors like you?’
She could see just how many questions he wanted to ask.
She nodded. ‘There’s no university training for medicine on Temur Sapora. Anyone who wants to train as a doctor has to leave.’
He tilted his head to the side. ‘And no one wants to come back full time?’
She instantly felt her hackles rise. He probably didn’t mean to offend but she couldn’t help how she felt.
