him to return but how could he have missed this inaugural event when he’d been present at the moment the dream had started? When he’d been the one to suggest the setting?
‘I heard about the hospital.’ A tall, blonde woman with a Scandinavian accent had joined them. ‘Is it usual for such an isolated group of islands to have such a well-equipped medical centre?’
‘Not at all. It’s thanks to the Lockhart family that it came about. They discovered the gold and started the mine and the research station.’
‘And the mine did well enough to pay for setting up the hospital?’
‘Not exactly.’
Another ghost appeared because it was impossible not to remember when he’d first heard this story himself. He’d been walking hand in hand with Anahera, on their way to the best seat in the house for the dramatic show that nature put on every evening at Sunset Beach. He could actually hear the sad notes in her voice as she’d filled him in on a bit of island history.
‘It was a family tragedy that made it happen. A premature birth of twins that led to the death of their mother and one of the twins being severely disabled. Their father—Max Lockhart—devoted his life to making sure such a thing would never happen again. He studied medicine himself, lobbied the Australian government for funding and encouraged local people to get trained. I believe he even paid for some of that training out of his own pocket.’
‘Amazing …’ Charles murmured. ‘And now he’s set up this conference centre? He’s a man with vision, that’s for sure.’
‘Someone else had this vision.’ Luke looked up to smile in Harry’s direction. He was outside now, with a group of islanders, and they were taking the top layer off a cooking pit. Steam billowed out and a delicious smell wafted in through the open walls of the meeting house. ‘Have you met Sheikh Rahman al-Taraq?’
‘I heard a lot about him when I made enquiries after getting the invitation for this meeting. A surgeon, yes? Isn’t he funding some extensive research into vaccines for encephalitis? How come a surgeon got so interested in a tropical disease?’
‘You’ll have to ask him about that.’
‘I’ll do that. Maybe over dinner. Whatever it is they’re dishing up out there smells fantastic. I’m starving …’
‘I don’t like fish pie.’
‘There’ll be some ice cream later, Raoul. As long as you eat your veggies.’ Anahera tried to sound firm but she was smiling as she delivered her last dinner tray. ‘You won’t be eating hospital food for much longer anyway. Didn’t I hear Dr Sam say you might be able to go home tomorrow?’
‘He’s going to see how well I go on the crutches. And talk to my mum about getting to clinics to get my bandages changed.’
‘Yes … you’ve got to keep that leg clean. You don’t want to have to have any more operations.’
‘I’m going to have a big hole in my leg where the ulcer was, aren’t I?’
‘Not a hole, exactly, but it will be a big scar and a dent where there isn’t so much muscle. And you’re going to have to work on building up your other leg muscles with the exercises we’ve taught you. You’ve been in bed for a long time.’
‘Ana …’
She turned swiftly at the urgent tone of the call to see Sam in the doorway of the two-bed ward.
‘Sam … I thought you were at the cocktail party.’
‘I was on my way. Got a call. You have to come with me.’
Anahera tucked back a stray tress of long dark hair that was escaping the knot on the back of her head. She glanced down at her uniform of the green tunic and three-quarter-length pants that were looking a bit worse for a long day’s wear and she shook her head, but Sam was already turning. His voice got fainter as he headed towards their small theatre suite.
‘Now, Ana. It’s an emergency.’
Any thoughts of how she must look vanished as Anahera ran after Sam. He was lifting the heavy life pack in one hand and reaching for an oxygen cylinder with the other.
‘What’s happened?’
‘Could be a heart attack. One of the visiting doctors. Ten out of ten chest pain and nausea. Grab the resus kit and let’s go.’
Manu, the hospital porter, had a golf cart already running outside the door.
‘Maybe I should stay,’ Anahera said. ‘We can’t leave the hospital unattended.’
‘I’ll stay,’ Manu told them. ‘And Hettie’s on her way.’
‘I need you,’ Sam said as he stowed the gear on the back of the vehicle. ‘You’re the one with the intensive care training. If we have to intubate and ventilate, I want you helping.’
Ana climbed onto the cart. Sam was right. This was exactly the sort of scenario she had covered with her extensive postgraduate training. She could deal with something like this without a doctor around, if necessary, and the opportunity to keep her skills fresh didn’t happen that often.
They bounced down the track as Sam opened the throttle. It wasn’t that far to the new development but it was far enough to have Anahera running through all the possibilities in her head. Would they find their patient in a cardiac arrest? At least there were plenty of doctors there who could provide good-quality CPR but they would need the defibrillator to have any hope of starting a heart again.
It was almost an anticlimax to rush in and find nothing dramatic happening. A group of people were standing quietly beside a table covered with abandoned plates of food. A middle-aged man was sitting on the floor, propped up by a large cushion. Another man was crouched beside him with a hand on his wrist, taking his pulse. The woman standing beside them, directing a breeze from a fan to the patient’s face, was Anahera’s mother, Vailea Kopu, who was the first to spot their arrival.
‘They’re here,’ she said. ‘You’re going to be fine, Dr Ainsley.’
‘I’m fine already,’ the man grumbled. ‘I keep telling you, it’s only indigestion. I ate your wonderful food too fast, that’s all.’
Sam crouched beside the man. ‘Let’s check you out to make sure. I’m Sam Taylor, one of the resident doctors here.’
‘This is Charles Ainsley.’ The man monitoring the condition of their patient turned to look at Sam. ‘He’s sixty-three and has a bit of a cardiac history …’
Anahera wasn’t hearing any of their patient’s history. Her hands were shaking as she opened the pockets of the life pack and pulled out the leads they would need to do a twelve-lead ECG and check whether the heart’s blood supply was compromised.
She couldn’t look up but she didn’t need to.
She would have known that voice anywhere …
How on earth had the possibility of Luke Wilson attending this elite conference not occurred to her?
But
