The Australian's Bride: Marrying the Millionaire Doctor / Children's Doctor, Meant-to-be Wife / A Bride and Child Worth Waiting For. Marion Lennox
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‘Bloody suit,’ he muttered. ‘Thinks he’s God’s gift, doesn’t he? You OK, Susie?’
‘I’m fine, thanks, Wayne.’
‘Poor kid.’
‘Hmm. I might just go and see where she is.’
‘You do that.’ Wayne hefted the smart black suitcase onto the back of the electric cart and greeted the driver. ‘There’s a couple of dead birds floating under the jetty, mate. Those noisy shearwater things. Someone might need to do something before they wash up on the beach or the kids go swimming or something.’
The driver unhooked a radio from the dashboard. ‘I’ll call it in but I think the rangers are still out with the kids on some forest trek.’
The rainforest buggy ride was actually over, Susie realised as she walked back towards the camp facilities. Already groups of children and their parents or carers were heading to the beach for a late-afternoon swim. She waved at Benita Green, a nurse with a small group of her cancer patients in tow, and then found herself returning the wide grin of little Danny, who was still completely bald from his chemo.
It was hard to stay angry in this environment. Hopefully Stella had found a private spot and the island was working a similar magic on her. Or would she be angry at Susie for orchestrating the confrontation, albeit unwittingly? More likely, she was simply feeling utterly miserable.
Unloved and unlovable.
Where would she have gone?
Not to the dormitory with the others returning and racing in to get their togs and towels. The older ones would be looking forward to the disco this evening and probably discussing it, and that would certainly rub salt into Stella’s wounds.
Would she have gone to the cabin Susie had been allocated because she was staying for the opening ceremony tomorrow and the gala dinner the five-star resort restaurant was hosting later? Stella knew the location because that was where they’d excitedly taken the purchases of new clothes and make-up for the styling session that afternoon. But she also knew that Susie was going to be sharing the cabin with other staff from the base hospital. She would hardly want to explain herself to strangers if they had already arrived.
No. Susie turned off the wide track that led from the beach, one fork going to the camp dormitories, dining hall and activity rooms, the other leading to the newly built eco-cabins in the rainforest. She doubled back towards the beach on a much smaller track, confident she knew one of the best thinking spots around.
Sure enough, hidden between the overturned timber hulls of a couple of ancient dinghies, Stella was sitting. A hunched figure scraping a meaningless pattern in the sand with a piece of driftwood, oblivious to the view of the ocean and small islands that advertised their presence in paradise. Beside her, with big brown eyes peering anxiously beneath golden dreadlocks, sat Garf. Close enough to cuddle but respectfully keeping his distance for now. The dog seemed, in fact, to be enjoying the view Stella was ignoring.
Susie slid down the side of a dinghy to a squat rather than a sitting position, being as careful as Garf not to intrude too forcefully into Stella’s space. She couldn’t assume she was welcome. Maybe it was only on her side that the relationship had become so much more than that of therapist and patient.
‘Hey,’ she said gently. ‘You OK, hon?’
The only answer was a sullen sniff.
Susie picked up a handful of the fine white sand and let it drift through her fingers. ‘Dr Wetherby’s taken your dad off to see the medical centre. He thought you might want a bit of time to yourself.’
‘I do. Go away.’
‘I think your dad’s had a stressful day getting here,’ Susie offered. ‘He got a bit of a shock seeing you all dressed up, that’s all. He’ll get over it.’
‘No, he won’t.’
‘We won’t let him stop you going to the disco.’
‘I don’t want to go.’
She didn’t really expect Susie to believe that, did she? Maybe she didn’t realise that her exchange with fourteen-year-old Jamie had been overheard that morning.
‘You going to the disco?’
‘Dunno. Maybe.’
‘You should. It’ll be choice.’
‘Yeah… OK…’
‘Cool. See you there, then.’
Even if she had been aware of Susie listening, Stella wouldn’t have known that, in the wake of Jamie’s grin, her face had been the picture of every teenage girl in existence who was experiencing her first crush.
And Susie had used that secret as an emotional key to get through the last barrier and get Stella walking properly. The day had snowballed from then on. The hugely successful physio session, the shopping and the make-over. A crescendo of excitement that had just been shredded.
A flash of anger resurfaced.
‘Your dad’s wrong,’ Susie said firmly. ‘He only said that about how you look because he doesn’t realise you’re growing up. It’s not what the other kids will think, believe me.’ Not what Jamie would think, but she couldn’t say that.
Stella hunched into a tighter ball. ‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.’
Using the side of the other dinghy as a climbing frame, Stella clambered upright awkwardly. She picked up her crutches without looking at Susie. ‘Who wants to go to a stupid disco anyway?’
The hunched shoulders, resentful tone and total lack of eye contact was achingly familiar.
They were right back to where they’d been at the start of this week.
Back to square one.
Susie watched miserably as Stella moved slowly over the sand.
Something wonderful had been happening in the last few days. Something that had filled a lonely space with magic and created more joy than she had known her career could provide, but that new, hopeful space had just exploded, thanks to a human bomb. Even Garf’s head on her knee wasn’t enough to comfort her.
Susie straightened her legs, giving Garf a quick scratch under his chin as she stood up. She watched as two boys ran onto the beach, past Stella. They weren’t camp kids but Susie had seen them hanging around in the last day or two and she didn’t like the look of them at all.
‘Hey, Zach, look!’ One of them shouted. ‘It’s one of those cripples from the kiddie camp.’
‘Crip-ple!’ His mate taunted loudly. ‘Hop-along! Go back to the forest with all the other freaky frogs!’
Laughing, the teens in their designer board shorts kept loping onto the beach, oblivious to the hurt they might have caused.
Susie’s