about everyone—even in little ways. He’d remembered that, with a twinge of regret, as he’d wrestled with his grapefruit.
‘There’s a bug going around on our side of the island that presents with flu-like symptoms but three of the children, Jack and Robbie from the kids’ camp and Lily, Charles Wetherby’s ward, are quite seriously sick, very high temperatures that we’re having trouble controlling with drugs, and on top of that are the birds. There are dead birds, shearwaters I think they’re called, all around the island.’
She glanced around and added, ‘Probably not here—the groundspeople would clear them away—but over on our side. Lily picked one up and gave it to Charles, thinking he could cure it. We’ve vulnerable children in the camp, Angus, and although no one’s saying anything, I’m sure in their heads they’re whispering it might be bird flu.’
Her wide-set blue eyes looked pleadingly into his, asking the question she hadn’t put into words.
Would he help?
As if she needed to ask—to plead! He felt a stab of annoyance at her, then remembered that Beth, who’d had so little, would never take anything for granted. And certainly not where he was concerned. Hadn’t he accepted her decision that they should divorce and walked away without another word, burying himself in work, using his ability to focus totally on the problems it presented to blot out the pain, only realising later—too late—that he should have stayed, have argued, have—
But that was in the past and right now she needed help.
‘Do you have transport?’
‘Electric cart parked out the back.’
‘Then let’s go.’
He stood up and reached out to take her hand to help her stand—an automatic action until he saw her flinch away as if his touch might burn her. Pain he thought he’d conquered long ago washed through him.
How had they come to this, he and Beth?
CHAPTER TWO
SKIN prickling with awareness of Angus by her side, Beth led the way back to the cart, then sighed with relief when she saw Garf.
He could sit between them, they could talk about the dog and she wouldn’t have to think of things to say.
‘Good grief, what’s that?’
Beth had to smile. Garf looked more like a tall sheep or a curly goat than a dog.
‘That’s Garf, he loves a ride. Move over, dog!’
Garf had sat up and yapped a welcoming hello. He was now regarding Angus with interest.
Was this a man who knew the exact place to scratch behind a dog’s ear?
‘He’s a labradoodle, a non-allergenic kind of dog,’ Beth replied. ‘The kids love him and when they’re all up and about he’s usually with them. His other great love is riding in carts and it’s impossible to tell him he’s not wanted—he just leaps in.’
To her surprise, Angus and Garf took to each other like old friends, although Angus was firm about not wanting a thirty-odd-kilo dog sitting on his knee.
‘He likes to hang his head out,’ Beth explained apologetically, but Angus had already worked that, easing the dog to the outside of the seat and sliding across so his body was pressed against Beth’s.
‘I could make him run back—it’s not far,’ she said, thoroughly unnerved by the closeness.
‘No, he’s fine,’ Angus said, so airily, she realised with regret, that he wasn’t feeling any of the physical upheaval that was plucking at her nerves and raising goose-bumps on her skin. He might just as well have been sitting next to a statue.
A statue that kept thinking about a blonde called Sally.
‘I’m sorry I interrupted your breakfast,’ Beth said, and although she knew it was none of her business, she plunged on. ‘You and Sally? You’re a couple? That’s good. I’m glad. I’m—’
‘If you say I’m happy for you I’ll probably get out and walk back to the resort!’ Angus growled. ‘For your information, Sally and I are work colleagues, nothing more. We’re here for a conference. I’m giving a paper on Tuesday.’
‘Oh!’
The relief she felt was so totally inappropriate she blustered on.
‘But you’re well. Busy as ever, I suppose?’
Angus turned and gave her a strange look then began to talk about the tiny finches that darted between the fronds of the tree ferns.
So, his personal life was off-limits as far as conversation went—Beth felt a momentary pang of sympathy for Sally who probably was quite interested in her boss and didn’t realise just how detached from emotion Angus was. And personal issues like health and work had just been squashed; what did that leave?
Beth joined the bird conversation!
‘The bird life’s wonderful here,’ she managed, her voice hoarse with the effort of keeping up what was very limp and totally meaningless chat.
‘The night life’s pretty surprising as well,’ he said, ice cool, although he did offer a sardonic smile in case she hadn’t caught his meaning.
‘Well, it was last night,’ she admitted with a laugh, remembering how strange she’d found it, in the past, that Angus, who was usually so serious, could always make her laugh. And with that memory—and the laugh—she relaxed.
Just a little.
‘I nearly died to see a person standing there, then to find it was you.’ She shook her head. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘But very handy, apparently,’ he said, and she had to look at him again, to see if he was teasing her.
But this time his face was serious.
‘Very handy,’ she confirmed, although it wasn’t handy for her heart, which was behaving very badly, bumping around in her chest as if it had come away from its moorings.
‘How long have you been on the island?’
She glanced his way again and her chest ached at the familiarity of his profile—high forehead, strong straight nose, lips defined by a little raised edge that tempted fingers to run over it, and a chin that wasn’t jutting exactly but definitely there. The kind of chin you’d choose not to argue with—that had been her first thought on seeing it.
Forget his chin and answer the question!
‘Only a couple of weeks. I spent some time at the Crocodile Creek Hospital on the mainland, getting to know the staff there, as they—the doctors and the nurses—do rostered shifts at the clinic and, of course, the helicopter rescue and retrieal services the hospital runs are closely connected with the island.’
‘Why here?’ he asked, and she glanced towards him. Big mistake, for he’d turned in her direction and she met the same question in his dark-lashed eyes.
