Dr Blake's Angel Read online

  Oh, for heaven’s sake! What was she thinking of? Get a grip! she told herself. Focus on what’s important.

  ‘Home’s here,’ she said softly, and watched as his startled gaze met hers.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean I’ve moved here. For ever. I want to have my baby here.’

  ‘You want to deliver your baby in Sandy Ridge?’ The idea was ridiculous. People didn’t come to Sandy Ridge to have their babies. They left Sandy Ridge to have babies. With only one doctor, maternity was frankly dangerous.

  He was shocked into saying the first thing that came into his head, and as soon as he said it he knew it wasn’t wise, but it came out anyway. ‘And the baby’s father? What does he think of you moving here?’

  She glared at that. Then her eyes fell to his hand. To a gold band on his ring finger.

  ‘And your wife?’ She used the same tone he’d used on her, and it was frankly accusing. Their eyes locked across the desk, anger meeting anger. ‘What does your wife think of you working yourself into the ground? Or isn’t your personal life any of my business? OK, Dr Sutherland.’ Her glare grew angrier. ‘You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.’

  His gaze fell first. ‘Touché,’ he said lightly, but she knew the word wasn’t meant lightly at all. He’d been touched on the raw.

  As had she. Damn, she wasn’t going to feel sorry for the man. Or for herself. She was here to take over his responsibilities for a month and then get out of his life. But…

  ‘How many patients a day did you say?’ she asked faintly, and his mouth curved into the beginnings of a smile.

  ‘Fifty.’

  It gave her pause. ‘I don’t think I can—’

  ‘I don’t think you can either.’ He rose. ‘So it was a very nice idea, from you and from Jonas and Emily and the hospital board. But it’s impractical and impossible. I’ll ring them and thank them—as I thank you—but I think we should leave it at that. Don’t you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘I told Jonas and Emily that I’d give you a decent Christmas.’

  ‘And I’ve said it’s impossible. You can’t take over my Christmas.’

  ‘No,’ she said slowly, and her chin jutted into a look of sheer stubbornness. ‘OK. Maybe I can’t. But maybe I can share it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Maybe somehow we could have a Christmas to remember. Together.’

  Nell wouldn’t be budged. No matter how many arguments he raised, she countered them.

  ‘You need a rest. You know you do.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘You know very well that a tired doctor is a dangerous doctor.’

  ‘I can—’

  ‘You can’t. No one can. When you’re tired, your judgement’s impaired. That’s why Jonas and Emily are worried about you.’

  ‘Did they say my judgement was impaired?’

  ‘Not yet. But it will be.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, this is ridiculous.’

  ‘What’s ridiculous,’ she said serenely, ‘is you continuing to argue with me.’

  ‘I don’t even know you,’ he threw at her, goaded. ‘You walk in here like some outlandish—’

  And that had been the wrong thing to say!

  ‘You don’t like my overalls?’ She stood up, her eyes flashing fire. ‘You don’t like my gorgeous patchwork overalls? And you’re judging me on them? How dare you? Of all the intolerant, prejudiced, male chauvinist—’

  ‘I didn’t say anything about your overalls,’ he said weakly, but she stalked around the desk and advanced on him.

  ‘Outlandish! What about me is outlandish except for my overalls?’

  ‘Your temper?’ he tried.

  That brought her up short. She stopped a foot away from Blake and she glared.

  ‘You meant my overalls.’

  ‘They’re…they’re wonderful.’

  ‘I made them myself.’

  ‘Like I said—’

  ‘They’re wonderful,’ she agreed, her eyes narrowing. ‘Not outlandish.’

  ‘I…not outlandish.’

  ‘You’re not colour prejudiced?’

  ‘I like pink. And purple…’

  ‘That’s enough. There’s no reason to go overboard.’ Nell glared some more. ‘Do we have a deal, Dr Sutherland, or do I go to the medical board and say you won’t employ me because of stupid prejudices about pregnancy and patchwork pants?’

  ‘I’m not employing you.’

  ‘No. The hospital board is. And they already have. So if I’m now unemployed then I’ve been sacked and you’re the one that’s doing it. So I’m right. Prejudice…’

  ‘I’m not prejudiced.’

  ‘You want a quiet Christmas?’

  ‘Yes.’ How would he get a quiet Christmas if this virago was in town?

  ‘Then do what we want. Let me share your load. Let me take on as much as I can, while you enjoy mince pies and mistletoe to the max.’

  ‘I can’t.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Look. Miss McKenzie—’

  ‘Doctor!’ It was an angry snap. ‘Think it through. Think of what you’re refusing.’

  He took another breath, but still she glared at him. Her anger gave him pause. It made him stop and count to ten…

  And counting to ten helped. It did give him time to think.

  ‘Um…’ he said, and she homed right in on it.

  ‘Yes?’

  She was deadly serious, he saw. She really was intending to live in the place. ‘Maybe you could just do morning clinics for a bit,’ he said weakly. That might get her out of his hair.

  And maybe it’d even be a good idea.

  It was a generous offer Jonas and Em had made. So maybe he should accept. If this woman could take on his morning work then he’d have only a normal day’s work left to do himself.

  She considered what he’d said and her anger faded. A little. ‘It’s a start,’ she said grudgingly, sinking back into her chair and watching him across the desk. ‘But I’ve been paid to work.’ She brightened. ‘I can take every second night’s house calls.’

  He bit his lip. ‘You can’t. The emergency calls are switched through to my house. It’d be too much trouble to change the system just for a month.’

  ‘We wouldn’t need to change the system.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because Em told me the situation here is the same as the one at Bay Beach,’ she said sweetly. ‘The hospital has the doctor’s residence attached and it has four bedrooms. They were built at the same optimistic time—when hospital boards imagined doctors might like becoming country practitioners in remote areas. So, that’s a bedroom for you, there’s one for me, there’s one for Ernest and there’s one left for whoever wants to drop in.’

  Ernest? Who was Ernest? Another child? A partner?

  Blake didn’t want to know. It was irrelevant. ‘You can’t stay with me.’

  ‘Why ever not?’ Her eyes widened in enquiry. ‘The doctors’ residence is supposed to be for doctors—isn’t it? It’s designed for up to four doctors. There’s two here. Me and you.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘And my house is unlivable. That’s one of the reasons I agreed to do this locum.’

  ‘Miss McKenzie—’

  ‘It’s Dr McKenzie,’ she said sweetly. ‘And the board has already given me permission to move in with you. You know, you’re going to have to get used to it. And…you really don’t want to refuse.’

  He looked across the desk and met her eyes. She’d calmed down, he realised. The laughter and temper and over-the-top threats had died. What was left was understanding. And sympathy.

  And something more?

  Something he didn’t understand.

  But he didn’t want this woman in his house. He didn’t want anyone in his house.

  He didn’t want anyone in his life!

  And who was Ernest?

  He was saved by the waiting-room bell. Marion, his rece
ptionist, had ushered Nell into his surgery but with the last patient safely with Blake, she’d felt free to leave, so there was no one out there to see what the problem was.

  ‘I need to see who this is.’

  She glowered. ‘There’s no need to sound pleased. We haven’t come to an arrangement.’

  ‘Afterwards,’ he told her, and opened the door with real relief.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AS A rescuing angel, Ethel Norris didn’t quite make the grade.

  She was a massive woman, weighing close to twenty stone. Normally well groomed and cheerful, she was anything but well groomed now. Her clothes were soiled. Her mass of grey curls looked as if it hadn’t been brushed since she’d climbed out of bed this morning and her cheeks were grubby with tearstains. She looked up as Blake entered the reception area, and the look she gave him said it was the end of her world.

  ‘Oh, Dr Sutherland. Dr Sutherland…’ She put her face in her hands and sobbed as if her heart were breaking.

  ‘Hey…Ethel.’ He guided her to a chair and pushed her into it, then knelt before her and pulled her hands away from her face. ‘What is it?’ His eyes were on hers. He was totally focussed on her distress, unaware that Nell had followed him to the door and was watching.

  ‘I can’t… I couldn’t…’

  ‘You couldn’t what?’

  ‘I broke.’ She took a ragged gasp. ‘And I’ve been doing so well. I’ve lost four stone and you were so pleased with me. My clothes have been getting looser and looser, and then all of a sudden I couldn’t go on. I dunno. I sort of snapped. I went out and bought everything I could find. Ice cream. Biscuits…’ She took a searing gulp. ‘Not just one. Tubs and tubs of ice cream. Packets and packets of biscuits. I’ve stuffed myself stupid, and I’ve been sick but not sick enough. I’ll have put all my weight back on and I can’t bear it.’

  ‘Ethel, you can’t have put it all back on.’

  ‘I have.’ It was a wail of agony.

  ‘How long have you been dieting?’ Nell’s voice cut across both of them.

  Blake flashed her a look of annoyance but Nell seemed unconcerned. In fact, she appeared not to even notice.

  ‘You must have been dieting for ever to lose four stone,’ she said in a voice of awe. ‘That’s fantastic.’

  Ethel looked up at her, her attention caught. Well, how could it not be caught by purple patchwork?

  ‘Don’t mind me. I’m just another doctor,’ Nell told her blithely. ‘I’m Dr Sutherland’s new associate. But losing four stone. Wow!’

  ‘I haven’t—’

  ‘How long have you been dieting?’

  ‘Six months.’

  ‘And this is the first time you’ve cracked?’ Nell’s voice remained awed. ‘Six months of solid dieting! I never heard of such a thing. That’s fantastic.’

  ‘But now I’ve ruined it.’

  ‘How have you ruined it?’ Nell’s eyes took in the vastness of the woman’s figure, and her sharp intelligence was working overtime. Ethel must have had a serious eating disorder over many years to account for so much weight. ‘It’s my guess that eating a few tubs of ice cream wasn’t a rare occurrence before you started dieting,’ she said softly. ‘You did it often—right?’

  ‘Yes. But—’

  ‘But now you’ve had a day off your diet.’

  ‘I wasn’t just off my diet.’ The woman wailed. ‘I binged.’

  ‘Well, I don’t blame you,’ Nell said stoutly. ‘If I’d lost four stone in six months then I’d binge, too.’

  ‘Dr McKenzie.’ Blake was glaring at her. This was his patient. She had no business butting in.

  ‘Yes, Dr Sutherland?’ She gave him her sweetest smile. ‘Am I saying what you were about to say? I’m sure I am. I understand all about diets. I’ve been on ’em ever since I was a kid.’

  ‘You?’ the woman whispered, and Nell chuckled.

  ‘Yeah, well, I’m not on one now. As you see, I’m a bit pregnant and it’d be bad for baby. But as soon as I stop breastfeeding I’ll be back to dieting. I just have to look at a tub of ice cream and I gain a midriff.’

  ‘But nothing like me.’

  ‘But not like you,’ Nell agreed. ‘I’d imagine you and Dr Sutherland have talked about the underlying problems—why you got so big in the first place.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘But nothing.’ Nell crossed to Blake’s side. She stooped and elbowed him aside. ‘Dr Sutherland, this is women’s business.’

  He glowered. ‘How can it be women’s business?’

  ‘Have you ever dieted?’ She looked up and down at his long, lean frame. ‘Marathon man.’

  He was taken aback. ‘No.’

  ‘There you go, then.’ Another sweet smile. Then she turned back to Ethel. ‘You know, losing the amount of weight you need to lose to be healthy is going to take a couple of years.’

  ‘I know that. That’s why it’s so terrible…’

  ‘That you broke? No. That’s why it’s understandable. And there’s no way you’ll have gained four stone in a one-day binge. You won’t have come close.’ Nell smiled. ‘You know, I’m watching my weight while I’m pregnant, but I can’t do it all the time. I’d go stark staring mad. So I give myself days off.’

  ‘Days off?’

  ‘Like Christmas.’ Nell’s voice was totally serious now. She had eye contact with Ethel and she wasn’t letting go. Woman to woman. ‘Christmas is in two weeks. I can last until then, but I intend to eat way too much on Christmas Day. Far too much. Then on Boxing Day I’ll think how much I enjoyed it and get on with being sensible.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘But there’s lots more time to go before you hit an ideal weight,’ Nell agreed. ‘More so for you than for me, but eating sensibly is a lifetime thing for all of us. So I won’t make it impossible for myself again. I’ll promise myself a day off from being sensible on New Year’s Day. Then January fourteenth is my cocker spaniel’s birthday so that’s a day off, too. Because how can he celebrate alone? After that… Well, no one can diet on January twenty-sixth. That’s Australia Day, and it wouldn’t be patriotic! And in February… I’ll think of something to celebrate. There’s bound to be a reason if I put my mind to it.’

  The woman caught her breath. Her tears had been arrested. Nell had her fascinated, and Ethel gazed at her purple midriff in awe. ‘You might…you might have your baby. In February, I mean.’

  ‘So I might,’ Nell said with aplomb, appearing exceedingly pleased. ‘There you go, then. There’s no need to circle the calendar for that one. It’s a ready-made celebration.’

  ‘It sounds crazy.’

  Nell shook her head. ‘No. It sounds logical. You need to see some light at the end of the tunnel. You can’t keep losing weight for years without breaks, and those breaks need to be planned well ahead or you’ll crack again.’

  ‘But Dr Sutherland says—’

  ‘Does Dr Sutherland disagree?’ She swung around to face him, and the look she gave him was determined. ‘Surely not? Do you, Dr Sutherland?’

  He managed to rise to the occasion. Somehow. ‘Days off seem a very good idea to me,’ he said, and she grinned.

  ‘See? We have consensus.’ She turned back to Ethel. ‘OK, what are you planning for Christmas dinner?’

  ‘I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe a fillet of fish.’

  ‘A lone fish fillet for Christmas dinner?’ Nell sounded appalled. ‘Oh, you poor dear, no wonder you binged. You’re absolutely forgiven and then some. Isn’t she, Dr Sutherland?’

  Blake could only gaze at her in astonishment. And agree. There was nowhere else to go. ‘Um…yes.’

  ‘You need turkey and roast potatoes and cranberry sauce and pudding,’ Nell said solidly. ‘With brandy cream. Not brandy butter. Trust me. I’m an expert on this one. You can’t get enough brandy into brandy butter. I know this fantastic recipe for brandy cream, where’s it’s so alcoholic no one ends up knowing who’s pulled which end of the cracker. I�
�ll write it out for you if you like.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts. I’m sick of buts. You’re ordered to eat as much as you like on Christmas Day.’ Nell’s smile softened. ‘And I’ll bet that, having given yourself permission to eat as much as you like, and with no guilt attached, you won’t eat yourself sick. You’ll just enjoy your food very much indeed. Then, at the end of the day you give the remains of your pudding to an elderly aunt or the town drunk—or even a very appreciative dog. My cocker spaniel will volunteer if no one else comes forward. You drink the rest of your brandy cream as a nightcap, you wish yourself a merry goodnight—and then you go back to dieting the next day. How easy’s that? It’ll work. No sweat.’

  Ethel looked wildly at Blake. ‘Will it?’

  But Blake was smiling. ‘I don’t see why not,’ he told her. He took a deep breath. It took a big man to admit he was wrong but maybe… ‘Maybe the diet sheet we put you on was a bit harsh long term,’ he told her. ‘Maybe Dr McKenzie is right.’

  ‘Record this for posterity,’ Nell said, mock-stunned, and Ethel even managed a chuckle.

  She looked at the pair of them, and she smiled. ‘You…you will give me that recipe for brandy cream?’

  ‘Hand over a prescription form,’ Nell ordered Blake. ‘The lady needs urgent medication. I’ll write it up for her now. And, Ethel…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘If you love cooking and you want to cook more than you and your family can eat, then think about offering treats to the nursing home or to the hospital. Or even me!’ She chuckled. ‘Just don’t give this prescription to the pharmacist. He’ll think Dr Sutherland’s barmy.’

  ‘I think you’re both barmy,’ Ethel said softly, and for the first time her face relaxed. ‘You’ve made me feel so much better.’

  ‘Punishing yourself is the pits,’ Nell said strongly. ‘Heck, Ethel, the outside world criticises enough—there’s no good to be gained by criticising yourself. And if you’ve lost four stone you have so much to be proud of.’