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‘You asked for it.’
Yes, he had. After the last time he’d pushed her and gone too far, doing it again seemed like a hazardous process, but it seemed to be working out. She was making it work.
He watched out of the corner of his eye, talking to Ashan’s mother, while Megan carefully checked the boy over, taking his blood pressure and listening to his chest. When she’d finished, and packed up the bag, he waited for her verdict.
‘What does his mother say?’ Clearly she wasn’t going to give it until she had all the information.
‘No problems. They’re giving him the medication we sent him home with.’
‘In that case, I’d say he’s doing well. Shall I put him on the list for a follow-up next Friday?’
It probably wasn’t necessary. The people here had all seen dengue fever before and knew when to come to the doctor. But he’d asked her to examine Ashan and she’d decided to err on the side of safety. He shouldn’t second-guess her.
‘Yes. We’ll do that.’
* * *
Another test. Megan was used to being tested in new situations, most people waited until they could get the measure of the new member of staff. Jaye was no different, and if it made Megan nervous, that was her lookout. She pulled the strap of the heavy medical bag across her shoulder, daring him to take it back from her.
Every action, every word had to be thought about. It would get easier. Just as she’d learned to be with him in the compound, she would learn to be with him out here. It was just a matter of practice.
He gave her the history of their second patient on the way to the next house. Then he introduced her to the young woman whose right leg had been amputated by the blast of a landmine, folded his arms and stood back.
This time Jaye seemed determined not to help when Megan’s Sinhalese failed her. The woman had picked up a few words of English, clearly as a result of contact with doctors, since they all seemed to relate to her leg. Gestures and smiles filled the gaps and they got by. Megan satisfied herself that the woman was managing her prosthetic leg well, and that it was causing no blisters or sores, and then moved on to the baby she was nursing, for good measure.
All the time she felt that Jaye’s gaze was boring into her back, assessing and evaluating everything she did. When she turned to leave he asked a question in Sinhalese, which was too rapid for Megan to catch the meaning of. The woman smiled and replied and Jaye laughed. Her husband joined in the conversation, which for some reason seemed to centre around cushions. Then a smiling goodbye.
She laboured up the dirt track with Jaye, struggling a little with the weight of the bag but determined not to give it up to him. In return, he was giving her no quarter and she had to break into a stumbling jog to keep up.
‘Wait... Wait!’ She stopped short, heaving the strap of the medical bag onto the other shoulder.
‘Can I take that?’
It wasn’t an unreasonable offer, and it was entirely expected from Jaye. Megan was surprised he hadn’t tackled her to the ground and wrestled the bag away from her, just to satisfy his own good manners. But now she had it, she wasn’t going to give it up.
‘No. But you can stop a moment and tell me what you were saying to her.’
He shrugged. ‘It was nothing. We were just discussing the work that she does.’
‘Cushions? She makes cushions?’ Megan wanted to let him know that she’d followed at least part of the conversation.
‘Yes. One of my mother’s projects. She imports hand-crafted goods from areas like these and sells them. She’s got a website. And it’s cushion covers, there’s no point in filling up a container full of stuffed cushions when you can perfectly easily pack the covers into a small trunk.’
‘It would have been useful if you’d mentioned it. It’s always good to know what patients do for a living.’
‘In case she suffers from some kind of industrial sewing injury, you mean?’ His lip curled slightly. ‘My mother doesn’t work like that.’
‘I’m sure she doesn’t. But if she’s doing a lot of close work, I might think it was a good idea to have a brief look at her eyes, even if the clinic’s optician visits every six months.’
‘You know about that?’
‘I went through the books to do a couple of reports for Dr Clarke that London was asking for.’
‘Ah. Well, yes, the optician will be visiting. I’ll make a note to check on exactly when.’
They were getting nowhere fast. They had got used to working alongside each other, but that wasn’t enough out here.
‘Jaye, just hold on a minute.’ He’d turned, ready to start walking again, and Megan stopped him. ‘I know what you’re doing, and I appreciate that you’re allowing me to create my own relationships with the people here. But I need you to help me. My Sinhalese isn’t good enough yet, and I’m afraid I’ll miss something.’
