Urgency drove her to get back to the home. Running wasn’t possible. She had too much weight on her back and it was far too hot. Her brisk pace had to do.
By the time she dragged her load up the front steps of the shelter she was exhausted, and soaking in sweat, especially where the child lay sprawled across her back.
‘Alesha? What’s the matter?’ The doctor rushed out of a front room where he must’ve noticed her arriving.
Thank goodness he spoke English. ‘Asthma attack. At least that’s what I’m presuming the problem is. I can’t get it under control out in that heat.’
‘Give her to me.’ The young man lifted the girl away and took her straight into the treatment room.
Alesha rolled her cramped shoulders, grimacing as muscles protested, and then followed her charge. ‘The inhaler we used is empty.’
The doctor said, ‘There’re more in the storeroom. You have a key?’
‘Not yet.’
‘I’ll be back.’
Alesha took the girl’s hand in hers. ‘You’ll be right soon.’
The girl blinked and tears spilled down her cheeks as she tried to force air out of her lungs. Then the doctor was back and this time the inhaler started having an effect almost immediately.
‘What you did for Marija today was over and above,’ Antonija told Alesha over dinner that night.
‘It was fine. We had to get back and it was the only way I could think of.’
‘We do have taxis in town.’ Kristof’s mother laughed. ‘One of the others could’ve told the driver where to go.’
‘I did look for one but guess they all had better things to do down at the Old City.’ Every time she’d been down there taxis were doing a roaring trade and wouldn’t be bothered with cruising the back streets where they were unlikely to get a passenger.
‘Are you going out tonight?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Funny, but she didn’t have the energy. Nor the inclination. It seemed that spending most of the night making out with Kristof had used up her energy stores. Throw in carrying Marija those couple of kilometres and the idea of walking down to Port Gruž or anywhere else didn’t appeal. Nor did going alone. ‘I’ll have an early night instead.’
* * *
On Sunday afternoon Kristof headed into his office to go through patient notes for tomorrow’s surgeries. One hip replacement for a sixty-two-year-old man, and a knee replacement for a thirty-one-year-old woman. All straightforward, except the woman had a heart condition that needed a cardiologist on board in case anything went wrong in that area. He’d tried to do the knee replacement three months ago but the woman had gone into cardiac arrhythmia while being prepped for Theatre. He did not want that happening again. For one, it had stressed his patient out to the max, and for two, she desperately wanted this new knee so she could start walking and getting fit and lean again so that her heart could settle down and play nice.
Tomorrow would be a challenge, but he loved those. As long as the outcome was satisfactory. He strived for perfection, hated settling for less when his patients put so much trust in him. In Theatre, being in charge of an operation, was the place where he knew he was in control. Where he had the knowledge and skills patients needed, where he was top of his game. But... But there were the days when a body didn’t do as it was supposed to, like this woman’s heart. At least that had happened before he’d begun the procedure. He hadn’t even arrived in the hospital. Not that he’d felt any happier. The last time he’d struck a massive problem in Theatre the patient, a youngster of seven, had haemorrhaged all over the show from an aneurism no one had seen coming.
Kristof sighed and banged his feet down on his desktop. There were days he hated his job. The days that no amount of training and knowledge and skill could do any good. Days that just turned out to be ghastly for no apparent fault of his or anyone’s. It didn’t stop him feeling guilty though. Picking up the woman’s file, he began reading the details he knew off by heart. No such thing as taking anything for granted when her life might depend upon him.
‘Welcome home. I see you’re operating on Maggie Shattersgood tomorrow.’
Kristof’s head flipped up and he eyeballed his mate, Harry. ‘Yes. Just going over everything.’
Harry pulled out a chair and plonked his butt down. ‘So how was Dubrovnik?’
‘Same as usual.’
Except there was this woman who’d been special.
&nb
sp; ‘No scandal, no rampaging parties? Man, you’re getting dull.’
‘Says the guy who goes home to his wife and three kids every night, sober as a judge.’ Kristof grinned, ignoring the sense of loss that gave him. Why did he want that now? He never had before. Not even back when he and Cally were a couple had he thought they might possibly get to that stage where he’d feel comfortable enough to bring children into the world.
‘Yeah, well, I kind of love it.’ Harry might sound sheepish, but he didn’t look it at all.
And I’m not jealous.
Kristof sucked his lips in. They’d certainly had some heavy nights partying in the past, way back when there had been just the two of them to think about, but they’d barely been out of nappies. Now, older, not necessarily wiser, but supposedly serious and professional, they didn’t do any of that any more. ‘Fill me in on the gossip. There must’ve been plenty happening while I’ve been gone.’
‘How long have you got?’ Harry’s feet hit the other side of the desk top. ‘Any beer in that fridge?’
The tiny, one-shelf cooling box. ‘Yep, a couple. Pass me one while you’re at it.’
Harry grunted and got back on his feet. ‘So if you were being all proper and no parties what did you do when you weren’t operating?’
Having unbelievable sex with an amazing Kiwi woman.
‘Attended a charity dinner to raise money for the home.’
With an amazing Kiwi woman.
‘Took a boat to Cavtat for dinner, visited the Old City.’
Did more than I’ve done in Dubrovnik in years. With an amazing...
Yeah, well. That was last week. Now he was back into his real life where surgery and patients and colleagues were the order of the day, and often a fair whack of the night.
‘Alone?’ Harry was studying him, but then the guy was a haematologist so studying specimens was his trade.