Nurse In The Outback

So here she was. Presumably the self-opinionated man was one of the surgical team; he certainly looked too old to be a medical student.

Such arrogance! she thought to herself, watching as he stood lounging against the wall, surveying the room slowly. Kate’s place had been quickly filled by a young woman with startling platinum blonde hair who was gazing up at him through thickly mascaraed lashes. He noticed the direction of Kate’s glance and grinned sardonically, raising his glass to her.

She hastily looked away. Heaven save her from all men, especially from men as egotistical as that one! She found herself resenting his obvious good looks—the craggy, tanned face and the coal-black curls which put her in mind of some latter-day Sir Lancelot.

He wore a loosely fitting grey linen suit, but even that could not disguise the sinewy outlines of his tall, hard body. No wonder, thought Kate, that the blonde was pressing herself against him!

She took another sip of her drink and glanced around the room for her cousin. She spotted him talking to a freckled-faced young woman with a mop of thick brown curls.

Paul was such a dear, thought Kate, although at times she felt exhausted just keeping up with the dizzy series of activities which he and his parents had organised for her.

She had been in the beautiful city of Perth for almost twelve weeks, and she had scarcely had time to draw breath. She suspected that they were trying to keep her busy in the hope that she wouldn’t have time to dwell on the reason for her hurried departure from England—the end of her romance with Ben and the unsavoury discovery that he had been unfaithful to her. She had come to Australia to get the whole ghastly business out of her system.

She had dressed carefully for the party. She made a striking vision in a simple cut dress of jade, which emphasised the cat like quality of her green eyes. The rich golden satin of her hair tumbled down around her heart-shaped face, almost to her waist.

Her look would have been quintessentially English if it had included the delicate pink-and-white which so often accompanies blonde hair, but she was able to bask in the sun at will without burning, and already she was the colour of golden syrup, after twelve weeks beneath the strong Australian sun.

The dark surgeon had sought her company uninvited. Their eyes had met across a sea of bobbing heads and Kate had seen a look of astonishment cross his features, almost as though he had seen a ghost, she thought.

She wondered what on earth had caused a stranger to make such an odd remark.

He had come towards her with a slightly bemused expression and had offered to fetch her something to drink. She had accepted gratefully, already used to the disarming friendliness of the Australians, and rather interested in this particular one since he was without question the best-looking man in the room.

It was when he heard her soft, clear English accent that she had seen his grey eyes darken and a frown appear between those dark brows. What did she do? he had wanted to know. State Registered Nurse, she had told him proudly, and it was a just pride, for Kate had trained at St. Jude’s—one of the largest and busiest teaching hospitals, with a reputation for producing some of England’s finest nurses.

She remembered her first few weeks of training when Mrs. French her tutor, had told the class of fresh-faced youngsters before her that training at St. Jude’s was a passport to any hospital in the world. And yet it had not aroused the customary respect in the face of the Australian.

‘What brings you to Australia?’ he had demanded, and she had told him simply that she had had a love affair back in England which had gone wrong.

It was then that he had made his provocative statement. Kate had at first thought that he was joking, but the grey eyes hadn’t looked particularly humorous.

She had felt flabbergasted by his insufferable conceit. The worst type of surgeon, she decided, so used to the power and prestige of the job that he imagined himself irresistible to all women!

She turned her back on the platinum blonde who now appeared to be in the process of nibbling on his ear, standing on tiptoe in order to reach.

Her cousin had noticed that she stood alone and, with his curly-haired companion, had threaded his way through the scattered couples towards her.

‘Hi there, Cousin!’ he exclaimed warmly. ‘I want you to meet Joanne, a fellow student and our hostess for this wonderful party.’ He leaned over and planted a kiss on Joanne’s nose. ‘Joanne’s folks allowed us to use their house tonight,’ he explained. ‘Fortunately that did not include letting her loose in the kitchen, and the food was provided by outside caterers!’

‘Why, you ungrateful beast!’ laughed Joanne, aiming a playful punch at him. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Kate. Paul has told me so much about you.’

‘All bad, of course!’ interjected Paul.

‘I hope you’re having a great holiday, so far?’ Joanne asked, in her pleasant voice.

‘It’s been wonderful,’ replied Kate. ‘Everyone has really gone out of their way to be kind to me.’ She paused. ‘Except for that man over there—he’s just been unbelievably rude!’

‘Which one?’ asked Joanne.

‘Him—the one with his back to us, over by the window.’

Joanne followed the direction of her gaze. He stood, nonchantly sipping his drink, seemingly oblivious to the attentions of the amorous blonde.

‘Oh, you mean Grant Kershaw—I should have guessed!’ Joanne grimaced at Kate. ‘I shouldn’t worry about him. He’s hardly the world’s greatest charmer. Half the women in the hospital are madly in love with him and show it; the other half feel the same but pretend to hate him. Consequently his arrogance knows no bounds! He hates women. They say he has only one true love in his life, and that’s surgery. People can stand his bearlike manner because he’s so good at it, too. If he carries on the way he’s going, it’s said that he’ll become the youngest surgical consultant in the state.’

‘All the women in the hospital are in love with him, are they, Joanne?’ Paul raised his eyebrows questioningly. Suddenly Joanne blushed and grinned shyly at him.

‘Please excuse me,’ she said. ‘I must go and organise some more punch. It’s lovely to have met you, Kate.’ She smiled as she hurried away in the direction of the kitchen.

Kate turned to her cousin. ‘Do I detect a romance brewing?’ she asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

‘Well detected, Kate,’ smiled Paul. ‘She’s a lovely girl,’ he said, suddenly serious.

The sight of her cousin, so obviously in love, made Kate feel very much an outsider. All at once the room seemed hot and noisy and the babbling of voices were giving her a headache. She had had enough of the party.

‘I think I’ll go home now,’ she told him.

His face fell a little. ‘Let me say goodbye to Joanne, then I’ll give you a lift.’

‘No Paul. It’s sweet of you, but I’ll get a taxi. Really, I insist!’ She was amused to see his look of relief. She had no desire to drag him away from the party, and quite honestly she felt as though she could do with a little solitude.

As she left, she couldn’t resist looking to see whether Grant Kershaw had made any headway with the young woman, but she searched in vain. He was nowhere to be seen.

She thanked Joanne, said goodbye to Paul and stepped outside into the fading light of the warm Perth evening. She found a taxi easily and directed it to the exclusive beach side suburb where her Uncle Mike and Aunt Sue lived. Distant stars had started to glimmer and the coloured lights from skyscraper office blocks danced like a kaleidoscope on the waters of the Swan.

With a sigh she settled into the back seat and closed her eyes.

The last few months had been one mad, hectic whirl. The excitement of a trip to Australia had somehow blurred the reality of her split with Ben. Over the past few days, however, the realisation had at last begun to sink in. She was not to become Mrs. Hillier; her future no longer lay comfortable and secure before her.

All things considered, it had not been a particularly successful evening, she thought as the car gathered speed. That man had quite unnerved her. Thank heavens she was to begin nursing again next week; the demanding physical and mental nature of the job would leave her little time or energy to dwell on affairs of the heart.

Uncle Mike had arranged for her to work in the ‘country’ hospital of Port Dampland, a town with a population of around twelve thousand, which handled the shipping of iron ore supplied by two nearby mines.

‘It’s a rough and ready place,’ her uncle had warned her. ‘There’s sea on one side and desert on the other. Few shops, no theatre, one pub and the hospital. You could be lonely there, Kate.’

Frankly, it had sounded just what she needed—lots of hard work as a nurse in her beloved theatres. It needed stamina, anticipation and dexterity to be a good scrub nurse, and Kate had been told that she was one of the best.

The taxi drew up outside the imposing white colonial-styled house of her relatives. Her uncle had emigrated from England twenty years previously, a newly-married houseman at the time. Now he was Chief of Surgery at Perth’s largest hospital.

She paid the taxi-driver and, hearing no sounds from the house, wandered through the gardens towards the swimming pool where her uncle and aunt often sat to drink their coffee after dinner. She strolled across the lawn, whose manicured emerald smoothness belied the heat of the harsh Australian sun. There were hundreds of wild flowers massed around the edges of the lawn, and the fading light seemed only to intensify their colours, making them jewel-bright and unreal.

She made a beautiful, wraith-like vision, her hair like a shimmering waterfall as she picked her way towards the table where her aunt and uncle were sitting. She could see that they had a guest, a man, sitting with his back to her.

Her aunt saw her and waved. ‘Kate!’ she called. ‘How lovely? Come and have some coffee.’

As she drew nearer, Kate realised with a start that she recognised the broad line of those shoulders. She recognised the dark curls which showed jet against the white of his shirt collar. Furiously, she realised that her heart was thumping painfully in her chest.

He turned in his chair to greet the niece of his host, and she had the pleasure of reading the momentary discomfiture which flashed across his face. Then it was gone and he was on his feet, hand outstretched, that hateful sarcastic smile on his lips.