the chilli bin with the lunch that Vailea had packed for the team doing the clinic run to French Island today.
Anahera turned away from him to stare at a shelf. ‘Don’t tell me we’re out of urine dipsticks … I know we’ve got people who aren’t managing their type two diabetes very well on French Island.’
Sam took a step into the room, reached past her shoulder and picked up the jar that had been right in front of her.
‘Thanks.’ Anahera cringed inwardly. ‘Guess I was having a “man” look.’
‘If you’re worried about blood-glucose levels, a blood test is far more sensitive.’
‘I know that.’ The words came out as an unintentional snap and she hurriedly modified her tone. ‘If the level’s high enough to show up in urine then we’ll know treatment is urgent. I’ve found that the occasional patient is more likely to agree to give a sample of urine than get stuck with a needle, even if it is just in a finger. I’ve already packed the BGL kit. I need the dipsticks for the antenatal checks, too.’
‘Okay …’
She could feel Sam watching her. Maybe she hadn’t undone the damage that that uncharacteristic snap had done.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t sleep that well last night and I guess I’m a bit put out, having to take someone else with us today. It’ll put us under pressure to get through the clinic cases so I have time to take him into the village to talk to people and get samples of the leaves or bark or whatever it is they use off the hibiscus plants.’
‘Hmm …’ Sam still hadn’t left the room. ‘Why is it that I get the impression you don’t like Luke? I’m going to be working with the guy and he seems great. Is there something about him I should know?’
‘No.’
‘But you’ve met him before. You know him better than I do.’
Anahera almost laughed at the understatement. She could only hope that her smile wasn’t wry.
‘He’s an awesome doctor. Hard-working and very, very smart. And he cares a lot about his patients.’ She was keeping her hands busy, packing syringes and swabs into the plastic bin. Then she reached for the pregnancy test kits and had to close her eyes for a heartbeat. Sam was a good friend. Maybe he deserved to know that Luke wasn’t completely honest. That he couldn’t be trusted.
‘I know … you should have heard that sheikh guy talking about him. Harry made him sound like God’s gift to medicine.’
‘Mmm …’ It really was time to change the subject. ‘Has Jack called to say the chopper’s ready yet? We should get going soon. And if Luke’s not here on time, we’ll have to go without him.
‘I’ll find out.’
It was a relief to be left alone to finish her packing. Anahera really needed a few minutes to herself. A few deep breaths should do it, along with bringing her focus back to the task at hand so that she didn’t find herself staring at something on a shelf that she couldn’t see.
But the deep breathing didn’t do what it was supposed to do. It didn’t even melt the edges off that hard knot that seemed to be lodged in her belly.
Guilt, that was what it was.
She’d told Sam she hadn’t slept that well last night but the truth was she’d tossed and turned so much that she’d barely slept at all.
It didn’t matter how many times she went over and over that incident at the hospital when Hana had been brought in because she couldn’t change the impressions she’d been left with. If anything, they only became crisper.
For a start, there’d been that unexpected and shocking reaction to seeing them together. A flash of imagining what it could have been like if they had become a family. A slicing pain of loss so deep that it was fortunate it had vanished as instantly as it had attacked.
Luke’s face had been as easy to read as a large-print book. She’d seen the shock of discovering that she was a mother. Had seen the moment when it had occurred to him that he could possibly be Hana’s father. And then she’d seen something that was shocking to her. Disappointment?
Did he want a child?
Even if he didn’t, he had the right to know he had one, didn’t he?
Oh, God … the guilt stone was getting steadily bigger and it had sharp edges that were giving her shafts of pain like colic.
Maybe reasoning would soften the edges, seeing that deep breathing hadn’t done the trick.
She was deceiving him for everybody’s sake.
His, Hana’s, her mother’s and her own.
She’d been over this ground so many times it was a familiar route. It was ironic how that casual conversation Luke had had with Sam yesterday was always her starting point.
Because one of those French sailors, intrigued by the history of the island, had been her father.
He’d come here, fallen in love with both the islands and her mother, and they had married and built a house on Atangi—the main island of this group. Her father, Stefan, had planned to create a premium tourist destination where people could come and sail and dive. It would bring money in to the islands and allow him to do what he loved most for the rest of his life.
He’d missed his homeland, though, and he’d taken Vailea and baby Anahera back to France for an extended visit to meet his family. They’d lived on the outskirts of Paris for three months.
‘It was so cold,’ her mother always said. ‘And I couldn’t speak the language. Even with you and Stefan there, it was the loneliest time. I wanted to be with him but part of me was slowly dying.’
They’d come back to the islands but things had changed. The islands were a place for a holiday for Stefan now and they couldn’t be real life. Heartbroken, her parents had finally agreed they had to live apart. Vailea would visit Paris once a year in summer and Stefan would come to Atangi during the French winters. He’d never made it, even once, however, because he’d died after a diving mishap that had given him a fatal dose of the bends.
The first-hand knowledge of the heartbreak that trying to live in different worlds could produce was a sound starting point, wasn’t it? Anahera had lived in Brisbane where the climate was far more like her homeland than London could ever be, but she’d ended up miserable and homesick. When she thought of London, it was always grey and people had to wear thick clothing and carry umbrellas all the time. Had she really thought—in those heady weeks of being so utterly in love—that she could have gone to live in London with Luke?
It could never have worked.
Hana would have to go there, though, if he knew he was her father. He would, quite rightfully, expect to be able to spend extended time with his daughter and, with his career, it wasn’t likely that he could take time off to visit a remote part of the Pacific at regular intervals.
It was too easy to imagine the worst-case scenario. Arguments about schooling that might lead to a battle not to have Hana sent to an English boarding school. A taste
