and teasing Jo knew she should sack him right now—this very minute—and somehow muddle through the holidays on her own, or get a locum, or leave town herself. Anything rather than fall in love with Cam.
Fall in love? Where had that come from? What had happened to simple lust?
Or even complicated lust?
‘What if the fact he is in pain was adding to his aggro at home?’ the smiling man asked. ‘And if we could do something for the pain … ‘
He left the sentence hanging in the air, but the way he’d said ‘we’ had touched off the zapping sensation along her nerves again, and she muttered a very hasty goodnight and took her bag of rubbish back into the house.
To Cam’s astonishment, Richard Trent did turn up at the clinic
the next morning, confirming Cam’s guess that his shoulder
must be extremely painful.
‘Have you had ultrasound treatment before?’ Cam asked
him.
‘A couple of years ago—maybe more. Jo’s dad did it.’ The way Richard said Jo’s name told Cam the man had calmed down from the anger he’d been feeling the previous evening, but Cam was also very aware he couldn’t venture into any matter beyond this particular appointment.
‘Then you’ll probably remember that I’ll put some gel on your shoulder, then rub the head of the machine across it. What it does is send sound waves into your body. They warm the area, which provides some pain relief, but more importantly they increase blood supply to the muscle or tendon to help healing and reduce swelling. Have you had an ultrasound test—same machine, different use—to pinpoint the exact problem?’
Richard was up on the treatment table by now, and Cam applied gel and moved the head of the machine over the skin of the injured shoulder.
‘A while back, down in Port,’ Richard admitted. ‘The doctor bloke there said there was calcification in the tendons around the rotator cuff and I should have an op.’
‘Maybe,’ Cam told him, ‘although sometimes this together with a little manipulation and massage will break the calcification down. Problem is, this treatment is best if you have it for five to ten minutes, two to three times a day. Most people can’t fit three medical appointments into their day, although now you can buy small, battery-operated machines that work with the same sound waves. You could check out the local pharmacy or try the internet, maybe get one you could use at home.’
Cam finished and turned off the machine then massaged the shoulder, not talking now, knowing silence was awkward for some people and they would rush to fill it with talk.
Not Richard Trent! He remained stoically still and silent while Cam massaged his shoulder, then sat up, thanked Cam, pulled on his shirt and was preparing to depart when he hesitated.
Was Richard about to open up to him?
Remember whatever he says you have to be non-judgemental. The message rang loud and clear in Cam’s head.
‘I shouldn’t have got upset about you taking the boys surfing—you were probably only doing what you thought was a good turn.’
Cam nodded. He wanted so desperately to help this man, and the wanting reminded him of why he’d gone further than straight medicine and studied psychology as well.
‘It was nothing. I’m sorry it upset you,’ he said, testing every word before he said it, afraid he could lose whatever slim connection he might have made with Richard. ‘I surf every morning, and love it so much I want everyone to know the joy. I suppose it’s like you with cricket. Jo was telling me you played schoolboy cricket for the state.’
‘Long time ago,’ Richard said. ‘BM I call it.’
‘BM?’
‘Before marriage! Jackie was pregnant, we had to get married, I’m not telling you anything the whole town doesn’t know.’
But you’re telling me you’re bitter about it, very bitter, yet you’ve obviously been married a long time now and the abuse is only recent—what’s changed? Cam’s mind was racing. He knew many of the cricketers who played for their state or country were married, many with children, so why would it have stopped Richard’s career?
Again speaking carefully, Cam asked, ‘Would you have liked to play on? Go further?’
‘Wouldn’t anyone?’ Richard muttered, and this time he did leave, but he left behind a man who’d received a precious gift—a reminder for Cam that this was what he enjoyed—helping people and knowing that in his own small way he could help people.
Not that he’d done much for Richard yet, but Cam knew he was no longer rudderless—that his career was back on track, his enthusiasm for practising medicine and psychology alive and well again.
Jo must have passed Richard in the hall, for she arrived in Cam’s doorway seconds later.
‘Any luck?’ she asked.
Cam grinned at her.
‘His shoulder might be less painful,’ he replied, ‘and I’ve a feeling of cautious optimism, though that could well be misplaced.’
He grinned at her, wanting to share the new optimism he was feeling, but she couldn’t have got the vibe because she frowned, and he had a sudden urge to kiss that little frown line away.
Maybe kiss her lips as well—hold her—but not in a comforting way.
Fortunately—well, probably fortunately—she disappeared from his doorway while he was pondering kisses and hugs, leaving him staring at the space where she had been.
Puzzled and a little uneasy about this sudden urge to kiss his boss in a very inappropriate setting, he used getting a beach permit as an excuse to avoid lunch in the communal room. But was she also avoiding him that she was out at lunchtime too, and on Thursday? She actually phoned him in his consulting room on Friday to remind him of the meeting. ‘I’ll drive you, save taking two cars,’ she suggested.
‘No, I’ll take the van. If we finish in time I might put my new permit to good use and go down the long beach for a surf.’
The surf had flattened out and she probably knew that, but she didn’t mention it, simply reminding him the meeting was at four at the community centre.
‘It’s the modern-looking building behind the hospital. There’s a meeting room on the left as you walk in,’ she explained to him. ‘See you there.’
It was fairly stupid as he couldn’t avoid her for ever, and he did see her at work, passing in the hall, meeting to discuss a patient at the front desk, but in work mode he could forget how she’d looked on a surfboard, body curved, head held high, eyes aglow, at one with the elemental force of the ocean—in control of the curling green wave.
Almost forget.
He was early for the meeting—army training too strong for him to ever arrive anywhere late. But arriving early had its own reward, for he could see these virtual strangers enter the room,
