like chips,’ she responded, ‘just not with everything.’
They ordered and were told there might be a bit of a wait. ‘Let’s have a drink, then,’ Jack said. ‘Another wine?’
She shook her head. ‘Mineral water, I think.’
‘OK. Me as well. I don’t want to fall asleep.’
Darcie sent him a cool look. Nice to know he found her conversation so scintillating. Being Friday evening, the beer garden was crowded. ‘Most folk are friendly here,’ she said, returning greetings from several of the locals.
‘And you’ve made friends since you’ve been here?’ Jack asked as they made their way to a vacant table.
‘It’s been good,’ she evaded lightly. ‘You’re getting well looked over,’ she added, taking the chair he held for her.
‘I’d better behave myself, then.’
‘Will that be difficult?’
‘I’m not given to dancing on tables, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
Darcie propped her chin on her upturned hand. ‘I’ve never actually seen anyone do that.’
‘I tried it once.’
‘Were you drunk?’
‘Are you shocked?’ Jack’s teasing smile warmed the space between them. ‘Final interviews were over and I knew they’d offer me a place on the surgical training programme.’
She raised an eyebrow. Oh, to have such confidence. But, then, she reasoned, Jack Cassidy seemed to be brimming with it. She took a deep breath and decided to find out more about this man who had literally dropped out of the sky and was now to all intents and purposes her boss. ‘So—where have you come from today?’
His mouth tipped at the corner. ‘You mean by the way I was dressed?’
And his tan. ‘Well, I didn’t imagine you’d just arrived from London.’
‘No.’ He picked up his glass unhurriedly and took a mouthful of his drink. ‘I’ve been trekking in New Guinea for the past couple of weeks. I did part of the Kokoda track. I always promised my grandfather I’d walk it for him one day. His battalion was stationed there in the Second World War.’
‘So, it has some significance for Australians, then?’
He nodded. ‘Our lads were heroes in all kinds of ways. I got some good pics of the general area and managed to run off some film footage too. Next time I see Pa, he’ll be able to see how it is now, although it’s many years on, of course.’
Darcie felt her heartbeat quicken. She guessed this was her opportunity to extend their personal relationship a little further, ask about his family. But somehow it all felt a bit...intimate. And he’d probably feel compelled to reciprocate, enquire about her family. And as yet she hadn’t been able to go there in any depth—not even with Maggie. While she was still cobbling her thoughts together, her attention was distracted by the sight of one of the hotel staff making his way swiftly between tables, almost running towards them. Darcie jumped to her feet.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jack’s head spun round, his eyes following her gaze. He sensed an emergency and shoved his chair back as he stood. ‘Do you know him?’
Darcie’s eyes lit with concern. ‘It’s Warren Rowe. He’s the manager—’
‘Thank God you’re here, Darcie.’ Warren looked pale and shaken. ‘The chef—young Nathan—he’s had an electric shock. We need a doctor.’
‘You’ve got two!’ Jack turned urgently to Darcie. ‘Grab your bag! I’ll do what I can for the casualty.’
‘How long has he been down?’ Jack rapped out the question as the two men sped along the veranda to the kitchen.
‘Not sure. Couple of minutes at most.’ Warren palmed open the swing doors and jerked to a stop. He swallowed convulsively. ‘It was the electric knife—’
Jack’s breath hissed through his clenched teeth and in a few strides he was at the chef’s side. The young man was glassily pale, blue around the lips and, worse, he was still gripping the electric knife that had obviously short-circuited and thrown him to the floor.
‘I used an insulator and switched off the current at the power point,’ Warren said helpfully. ‘What do you need?’
‘What emergency equipment do you have?’ Jack had already kicked the knife away and begun CPR.
‘Defibrillator and oxygen.’
‘Grab them. We’ll need both.’
‘Oh, my God—Nathan!’ Darcie burst in, her horrified look going to the young man on the floor. Dropping beside Jack, she shot open her medical case. ‘Any response?’
‘Not yet. Run the oxygen, please, Darcie. I need to get an airway in.’
‘I can do CPR.’ Warren dived in to help.
‘Defib’s charging.’ Darcie watched as Jack positioned the tube carefully and attached it to the oxygen.
‘Breathe,’ he grated. ‘Come on, sunshine. You can do it!’
Darcie bit her lips together. With sickening dread she waited for some movement from Nathan’s chest. Waited. And watched as Jack checked for a pulse. Again and again. The nerves in Darcie’s stomach tightened. ‘Shocking?’
‘Only option,’ Jack said tersely. ‘Everyone clear, please.’
Nathan’s young, fit body jerked and fell. Darcie felt for a pulse and shook her head.
‘Dammit! Shocking again. Clear, please.’ Jack’s controlled direction seemed to echo round the big old-fashioned kitchen.
Come on, Nathan. Come on! Darcie willed silently. And then...a faint jiggle that got stronger. ‘We have output,’ she confirmed, husky relief in her voice.
Jack’s expression cleared. ‘Good work. Now, let’s get some fluids into this guy.’ He looked up sharply. ‘Has someone called an ambulance?’
‘We’re here, Doc.’ Two paramedics stepped through with a stretcher.
Darcie looked up from inserting the cannula to receive the drip. ‘Say hello to Dr Jack Cassidy, guys.’ Relief was zinging through her and she gave rein to a muted smile. ‘He’s the new boss at the hospital—only been here a few hours.’
‘And already saved a life, by the look of it. Zach Bayliss.’ The senior paramedic held out his hand. ‘My partner, Brett Carew.’
A flurry of handshakes ensued.
Nathan was loaded quickly. ‘We’ll see you across at the hospital, then, Doc?’ Zach confirmed.
‘We’ll be over directly.’ Jack turned
