Emergency Doctor and Cinderella (9 page)

‘Of course.’ He released her hand, picked up his coffee and took a quick sip. ‘Did you find someone to feed Molly?’

Erin cupped her tea cup in her hands. ‘Actually, I do have someone who could feed her for me…’

‘So it’s all settled, then,’ he said. ‘You can go home and sleep, and once I finish work I’ll quickly pack and we can get going. We might even miss most of the traffic if we’re lucky.’

They walked back to the car park together, his longer stride shortening to match hers. Erin felt his broad shoulder brush against her once or twice, and as they crossed the road he cupped her elbow again in a protective manner. Her skin leapt at his touch even through the lightweight fabric of her cardigan. He stood waiting for her to drive off; the last sight of him from her rear-view mirror was him lifting his hand in a wave, a smile creasing up the corners of his eyes.

‘Mum?’ Erin closed the door of the apartment. She wrinkled up her nose at the smell of cigarette smoke.
Even though she had insisted her mother go out on the balcony to smoke, Leah didn’t always remember to close the doors. The stale, acrid smell was starting to permeate the curtains and soft furnishings. ‘Mum, are you home?’ She raised her voice a little as she slid the balcony doors open to let in some fresh air.

She tossed her keys on the counter and wandered through the rest of the apartment, opening windows as she went. A feather of unease brushed the base of her spine as she checked each of the rooms. How many times during her childhood had she come home to this air of the unknown? It was like an odour in the air, a pungent premonition of something not quite right.

Erin found the note on her bedside table. It was scrawled in her mother’s distinctive hand, as if a hen with a pen in its beak had pecked at the piece of paper haphazardly. She joined the dots as best she could, finally making out that her mother was going to stay with a friend for a few days. There was no address, no contact details, and no ‘I love you’ either.

Erin sat on her bed with a sigh, her foot banging against something that jutted out from beneath the valance. A frisson of alarm rushed like a startled gecko up her back. She stood up and dropped to her knees, her heart racing as she pulled her doctors’ bag the rest of the way out from under her bed, where she kept it unless she was driving further than to and from the hospital. The bag was partially unzipped, as if someone in a hurry had not quite completed the task. Erin glanced over the airway equipment, the neatly wrapped bandages, the little packets of sutures, the stethoscope coiled like a two-headed snake, and the place where the syringes should have been but weren’t.

Her eyes flashed to the drug compartment, her heart giving a knockout punch to her chest wall when she saw it was empty: no morphine, no diazepam, no adrenalin and no hydrocortisone.

She sat back on her heels and put her head in her hands. ‘Oh, Mum!’ she cried. ‘How could you do this to me?’

‘How’s he doing, Alice?’ Eamon asked as he visited Intensive Care towards the end of his shift.

‘He squeezed my fingers!’ Alice said with a rapturous smile. ‘It was only slight, but it was the first time he responded to my voice. Mr Blackwood says we might be able to turn off the ventilator as soon as he shows more signs of waking up.’

‘Alice, that’s fabulous news,’ Eamon said. ‘He’ll have a long road ahead in rehab, but it looks like he’s going to make it. You’ve done a brilliant job supporting him. He’s a very lucky man.’

Alice smiled. ‘Dr Taylor came to see him. She got this special chair brought in for me. Wasn’t that lovely of her?’

Eamon glanced at the leather chair with its comfortable padded arms and lumbar support. He felt a little hook-like sensation tug at something deep inside his chest. Erin Taylor might like doing things her way and in her time but there was no doubt she cared about the patients and, yes, even their relatives and loved ones. She just didn’t like showing it. ‘That was very kind of her,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t think of it myself.’

‘That’s OK.’ Alice smiled. ‘Are you off home now?’

‘Just about.’ Eamon clipped Josh’s file back on the end of his bed. ‘Can I get you a coffee or tea or something before I head off?’

‘No, thanks, I’m fine. The nurses have been looking
after me. I think Dr Taylor might have said something to them, because they’ve been bringing me extra snacks when the meal trolley comes round.’

‘You need to keep your strength up,’ Eamon said, feeling that hitch again. ‘I’ll be in on Monday to see how things are going.’

Eamon gave Erin’s door a knock and waited, his packed weekend bag at his feet. He felt a delicious thrill of anticipation about this weekend. He loved visiting his family, but having the shy and unworldly Erin Taylor with him was doubling his delight. He felt like a teenager going on his first date: nervous, excited and convinced he was falling in love. He laughed at himself; no, it was too soon to be talking like that. Besides, she insisted she was a career girl, and he wasn’t going to marry someone who didn’t want to have his kids. He wanted what his parents had: long-term love and commitment to family.

Of course, if he could get Erin to change her mind…

The door opened a sliver and half of her face peeped out. ‘Hi… Look, I’m really sorry, Eamon, but I can’t make it after all.’

Eamon frowned. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine. Well, maybe not fine. I think I’m just over-tired from night duty.’

‘Open the door, Erin.’

It was a full five seconds before the door opened. He counted them. He was shocked at her appearance. Her face was pale and her eyes were red-rimmed as if she had been crying. ‘Hey, sweetheart,’ he said, closing the door as he stepped inside. ‘What’s on earth’s the matter?’

She bit down on her trembling bottom lip and he
reached for her, holding her against him, his chin resting on the top of her silky head. ‘You’ve been crying, haven’t you?’ he asked.

She nodded against his chest. ‘Sorry, I’m not normally this emotional.’

‘You’re tired and all out of whack,’ he said. ‘What you need is a dose of my mother’s cooking and nurturing.’

She pulled back from his hold and looked up at him. ‘I haven’t got anyone to look after Molly.’ Her gaze fell away from his. ‘The person I had in mind had…other plans.’

‘No trouble,’ he said. ‘Have you got a cat-carrier thing?’

She nodded.

‘Then we’ll take her with us.’

A little frown creased her brow. ‘I wouldn’t want to put anyone out. Not everyone is a cat person and Molly sheds a lot of hair.’

‘My parents love animals and they’re no strangers to pet hair. Now, go and pack a bag.’ He turned her in the direction of her bedroom and gave her a little pat on the behind. ‘Go on. I’m not leaving without you. Oh, and have you got your doctor’s bag?’

She gave him a funny look over her shoulder. ‘Yes…’

‘Can you bring it? I haven’t had time to get one together since I got back. I don’t like to drive any distance without a trauma kit.’

Erin sat back in Eamon’s car a few minutes later, Molly safely and rather indignantly ensconced in her pet carrier. The traffic was heavy until they made it to the freeway, and after that it was more or less free-flowing. The further along the freeway they went, the more she felt as if by leaving the city and its fumes behind she was leaving her cares and concerns behind as well. Well,
perhaps not all of them, she conceded as she thought of her mother and her new stash of narcotics. It had been an awkward moment when Eamon had asked her to bring her doctor’s bag. She just hoped they wouldn’t encounter anything that would need the administering of drugs. How could she explain their absence from the kit?

‘What sort of music would you like to listen to?’ Eamon asked.

‘Um…I don’t mind. What do you like to listen to?’

‘Depends,’ he said. ‘On drives like this I like classical, but in the city I usually listen to the radio.’

‘My previous neighbours—you know the ones who were in your apartment before you came?—they loved heavy metal. It was awful. I’m glad they weren’t there this week while I was trying to sleep.’

Eamon sent her a smile. ‘I promise you I won’t play any heavy metal while I’m living next door. Anyway, my place is going to be ready in a couple of weeks, or so the contractors said. It could be longer; you know what tradesmen are like.’

Erin felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She would only see him at work once he moved out. There would be no glimpses from the balcony, no spontaneously shared meals. He would no doubt be looking for someone to settle down with by then, someone to fill his nicely renovated house with a sweet-smelling baby or two. Erin thought of Alice waiting back at the hospital beside Josh’s bedside, their tiny child growing inside her womb. She felt a fleeting sense of panic at the thought of never feeling the movement of a tiny foot or elbow inside her. No little rosebud mouth would hungrily seek her breast and no little arms would ever reach up for her.

‘Is something wrong?’ Eamon glanced at her again.

Erin forced her lips into a smile. ‘No, of course not. I was just thinking how nice it is to get away from work.’

‘Just wait until you see Cloverfields,’ he said. ‘You’ll never want to come home, I guarantee it.’

E
VEN
though the sun had well and truly set by the time Eamon drove into his parents’ gateway, Erin could see what a spectacular property it was as the fingernail clipping of the moon cast a magical, silvery glow over the sweeping paddocks. The tall poplar-lined driveway led the way to the large colonial house, surrounded by European trees and lush gardens.

The house was lit up with a warm, welcoming glow of lights, and as soon as Eamon tooted the horn the front door opened to reveal a couple in their early sixties, their hands linked as they waited for their son and his guest to walk up the steps. A silky-coated elderly Irish setter appeared by their side and, pricking up its ears, gave a happy bark and gingerly made its way towards Eamon.

‘Hey there, Bridget,’ he said, gently ruffling the dog’s floppy ears.

The dog came over to Erin and licked her hand, wagging her tail in greeting. ‘She likes you,’ Eamon said, smiling at her.

‘Darling, how wonderful to see you!’ Eamon’s petite mother stepped forward to hug her son tightly.

Erin watched as Eamon lifted his mother off the ground as he returned the hug. ‘Hi, Mum,’ he said, grinning at his father.

‘G’day, son,’ his father said, taking his turn to hug his son.

‘Mum, Dad, I’d like you to meet a colleague of mine, Erin Taylor,’ Eamon said, placing a gentle hand on the small of Erin’s back. ‘Erin, my parents: Henry and Grace.’

Erin shook both of his parents’ hands in turn. She was struck by the warmth of their grasp and their genuinely friendly smiles as she returned their greeting shyly.

‘So lovely you could make a weekend of it,’ Grace said. ‘Now, where is this gorgeous cat of yours? We’d better get her inside and fed. Don’t worry about Bridget, she’s used to cats. We have a couple who live in the barn. I found a tray and bought some kitty litter for Molly to save you the trouble.’

‘That was very thoughtful of you,’ Erin said.

‘I’ll bring her in and take our bags to the cottage,’ Eamon said. ‘You go in with Mum, Erin. Dad, want to give me a hand?’

‘Sure,’ Henry Chapman said and followed Eamon back to the car.

Erin stepped inside the country mansion with Grace. The smell of autumn roses and furniture polish was paramount; the cosy warmth of a crackling fire in the grate in the formal sitting room off the long, wide hall reminded her of many of the stately homes she had visited when she had toured England on her way home from the States a few years ago.

‘I’ll show you through to Eamon’s cottage first, shall I?’ Grace suggested. ‘Then once you’ve settled Molly in we can have a drink before dinner.’

‘That sounds lovely,’ Erin said, following her through to the back of the house to where a wisteria-covered walkway led to a separate building. ‘You have a beautiful home, Mrs Chapman.’

‘Grace, please,’ Grace said, sending her a friendly smile. ‘Eamon tells me you live next door to him. I hope he’s a good neighbour?’

‘He’s very quiet compared to my last ones,’ Erin said.

Grace smiled as she opened the front door of the cottage. ‘I’ve made up both beds in each of the bedrooms, but don’t feel you have to sleep separately.’

Erin felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘Er…we…there’s nothing…’

‘I was young once,’ Grace said with a twinkle in her hazel eyes. ‘I remember all too well what it was like in the early days of Henry courting me.’

She moved over to an antique wardrobe. ‘Now, here are some hangers to hang up your things. There is a bathroom the other side of Eamon’s room. I put the litter tray in there. I’m sorry there isn’t an
en suite
. These old homesteads weren’t designed for modern-day luxuries and, this being the original servants’ cottage, we didn’t want to spoil its authenticity with too many renovations.’

‘Of course,’ Erin said. ‘Anyway, it’s just perfect the way it is.’ She swept her gaze over the white-and-grey wallpaper and sweet-smelling vase of roses on the dressing table. The bed was a double, covered in a hand-made quilt following the same white-and-grey theme. There was a little writing desk under the window overlooking the paddocks at the back of the house, and a wing-chair in a matching striped fabric was set in a corner, providing a cosy nook for reading.

‘Ah, here’s Eamon now,’ Grace said. ‘I’ll leave you two to get Molly acquainted with her surroundings. She’s very welcome to have the run of the main house if you think she’d cope.’

‘I’ll see how she goes,’ Erin said. ‘She’s never met a dog before.’

‘Bridget is too old to be much of a threat,’ Grace said. ‘See you both in a few minutes.’

Eamon put the carrier on the floor and Erin opened it, coaxing an affronted Molly out. She eventually stalked out, giving Erin a ‘how could you subject me to that?’ look, before she sat and licked each of her white-socked paws in turn.

‘Better show her where the conveniences are,’ Eamon suggested. ‘She might want to powder her nose.’

Erin couldn’t help smiling. ‘I’m sure she does.’

His eyes returned her smile. ‘I’m going to throw my stuff in my room. I’ll meet you back here in five to take you to the sitting room for drinks.’

‘OK.’

Once Erin was sure Molly knew her way around, she came back to the bedroom assigned to her. She went over to the window and looked out over the moonlit paddocks; the tall trees were like sentries guarding the boundaries. The whole property reeked of family and traditions that went back over two hundred years. She could almost imagine the pioneer settlers taming the land, the sun beating down on their backs in the summer, the cold, snow-driven winds of winter no doubt reminding them of the home country.

She heard the soft knock on the open door and turned to see Eamon waiting to take her back inside the main house where her parents were waiting to have drinks
before dinner. ‘This is such an amazing place,’ she said as he accompanied her along the wisteria walkway.

‘It’s great, isn’t it?’ he agreed. ‘It’s been in the family for seven generations.’

‘So what happens after your parents can no longer run the place?’ Erin asked. ‘As the eldest and only son are you going to take over?’

He gave a loose shrug of one shoulder. ‘Who knows? Maybe I’ll appoint a manager like my folks did until they moved down, or maybe I’ll relocate here and become a country A&E director. It all depends.’

Erin wanted to ask ‘on what?’ but they had reached the sitting room where his parents had laid out drinks and pre-dinner nibbles.

Within moments a glass of champagne was placed in Erin’s hand. She took the sofa on the right-hand side of the fireplace. Eamon sat beside her, his parents seated opposite, and the russet-coloured dog lay in front of the fire. Erin watched as Henry slipped an arm around his wife’s shoulders in a loving embrace. It was such a simple gesture, but it spoke of an enduring love that she found deeply moving.

‘So when are the girls and co arriving?’ Eamon asked, offering Erin the plate of nibbles his mother had passed across.

‘Steph, as you know, isn’t coming until Sunday. Sophie can’t make it, but sends her apologies. I think there must be a new man in her life. And Kate and Simon said they should be here for afternoon tea, just after you wind up your conference. Kate will want to feed Emily first before they drive down, I expect.’ Grace smiled at Erin. ‘Emily is only two months old,’ she explained. ‘She’s our first grandchild.’

‘How lovely for you both,’ Erin said. ‘Do you get to see her often?’

‘Not often enough, is it, darling?’ Grace said to Henry.

‘No, indeed,’ Henry said. ‘But then we don’t want to interfere. Young parents need to find their own way of doing things, just like we did, right, Gracie?’

‘Of course,’ Grace said. ‘But I do think young mums need a lot of practical support in those early few months. It’s such a huge change, having sole responsibility for a baby, even though Simon is a wonderful father and support.’

Erin listened with one ear as the conversation moved on to other subjects, but her thoughts kept drifting back onto the subject of young mothers. She couldn’t help thinking of her own mother, pregnant at the age of sixteen. Leah had told her snatches of things, like how her parents had thrown her out when she’d announced she was pregnant. But then she’d also told Erin she had slept with her first boyfriend at the age of fourteen and had smoked her first cigarette the year prior. Erin couldn’t help thinking there were some things that were better left unknown.

‘What about you, Erin?’ Grace’s voice broke through Erin’s ruminations.

‘I’m sorry?’ Erin blinked. ‘I didn’t quite catch that.’

‘Poor darling, you’re probably exhausted,’ Grace said. ‘Eamon told me you’ve been on night shift for days on end.’

‘Yes.’

‘Mum was asking if you had any family living in Sydney,’ Eamon said.

‘No,’ Erin said, mentally crossing her fingers at her little white lie. ‘There’s just me. My mother lives in Adelaide.’
Or, at least, that is where she is supposed to be living.

‘Oh well, perhaps she’ll move across when it comes time for you to settle down and have little ones,’ Grace said.

‘Mum.’ Eamon’s voice had a hint of warning to it.

Grace gave him a guileless look before getting to her feet. ‘I’ll just go and check on dinner.’

Henry cleared his throat, winking at Eamon as he rose from the sofa. ‘I’ll give you a hand,’ he said, and followed her out of the room.

Bridget the dog pricked up her ears, but gave a sigh and lay back down and closed her eyes. It was apparently too much effort to move from the comfort of the spot in front of the fire.

Eamon turned on the sofa so he was facing Erin, his expression wry. ‘My mother will have you married with three kids before you can say “engagement ring”.’

Erin lowered her gaze to look at the trail of bubbles rising in her glass. ‘I’m sure she means well. After all, it’s worked for her: a happy marriage, four happy, grown-up children and a grandchild, with no doubt more to follow.’

She felt the weight of his gaze and slowly turned to look at him. ‘I’m not the only woman in the world who doesn’t see that for herself,’ she said.

‘No, but somehow I don’t think you really want to live the rest of your life alone,’ he said, his gaze steady and thoughtful on hers. ‘I think you want much more out of life but, because you’re frightened you might not get it, you tell people the opposite so they won’t feel sorry for you.’

Erin disguised the direct hit of his assessment by arching her brows and affecting a sarcastic tone. ‘I didn’t know you had specialised in psychoanalysis as well as emergency medicine.’

His eyes remained locked on hers. ‘Why do you push everyone away, Erin?’

Her mouth tightened. ‘Why do you insist on coming too close?’

‘I intend to come a whole lot closer,’ he said in a husky tone. ‘There’s something happening between us, Erin—you know there is.’

She gave a little up shrug of her shoulders. ‘It’ll pass one way or the other.’

He brushed his fingertips down the curve of her cheek, stopping just shy of her mouth. ‘You think so?’

Erin felt the nerves in her lips jump to attention, so she sent her tongue out in an effort to settle them down.

The air seemed to tighten. The distance between their bodies was now almost no distance at all. His knee was touching the lower end of her thigh, and her mind began to run with images of their limbs entangled in the throes of passion. Her heart banged against her ribcage, huge expectant beats that made a roaring sound in her ears. Was he going to kiss her? she wondered. Here, when any second his parents could wander back in and discover them? The possibility was both thrilling and nerve-racking. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted much more than his kisses. She wanted to feel the full-throttle force of his desire; she wanted to feel the explosion of the senses that signified the ultimate in human pleasure. She wanted to be lost to common sense, swept up in an intimate world of longing and fulfilment.

His eyes darkened immeasurably as his fingers danced over her cheek again, but this time his index finger stopped to linger over the outline of her lips, in a fainéant movement that sent a waterfall of sensation
down the length of her spine. ‘Do you have any idea of how much I want you?’ he asked.

Her throat tightened over a dry swallow. ‘This is…this is crazy,’ she whispered.

His mouth tilted in a wry smile. ‘Maybe, but it’s a nice crazy, don’t you think?’

‘Actually, I stopped thinking about five minutes ago.’

‘That long, huh?’ The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. ‘I should’ve made a move when I had the chance.’

‘You can hardly make passionate love to me in your parents’ sitting room,’ Erin said.

His fingertip moved over her lips again. ‘My parents already think we’re sleeping together.’

Erin felt her face heating as she remembered his mother showing her to the cottage earlier. ‘Yes, I know.’

‘Don’t be embarrassed.’ His fingertip brushed back and forth over her bottom lip. ‘They might be in their sixties, but they’re quite progressive in their outlook. They met and fell in love within days. They married within six months.’

‘Wow, that is fast.’

‘When you know, you just know, or so they say.’

‘Who are “they”?’

‘Those who know.’

Erin let out a shaky little breath as his fingertip did its rounds again. ‘That tickles.’

‘You’re very sensitive,’ he said, returning his gaze to hers, holding it, searing it. ‘I reckon we’ll be dynamite together.’

Erin felt a power surge between her legs at his words. Her mind went on another imaginary sprint, conjuring up images of how it would be in his arms, feeling every
stroke and glide of his mouth and hands, and very male body in full arousal. ‘You seem pretty certain about that,’ she said, working hard to keep her voice from wobbling.

His eyes smouldered. ‘I am.’

‘Dinner is ready!’ Grace called diplomatically from the doorway.

Erin jumped up from the sofa, her face aflame.

Eamon rose with the sort of languid grace she found attractive in a man so tall. He placed his palm in the small of her back, sending another bolt of reaction through her body as he led her through to the formal room across the hall.