… A glimmer of hope in her soul blew into life. If she did pass the assessment … three months was shaping up to be a lifeline and a life sentence all rolled into one. Her stomach felt like it was in a food processor, choppy and whirring at full speed. ‘I assume we get time off at weekends for good behaviour?’
‘Truly, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my weekends. Out here, in Nowheresville, with an ex who thought so little of me she couldn’t run away fast enough. That takes masochism to a whole new level.’
He sat down at the desk, opened his briefcase and pulled out a thick questionnaire.
Thank God he didn’t look up to see the rage shivering through her. She would not explain. She was not embarrassed. She had done them both a favour.
So why had regret eaten away at her ever since?
He scanned the pages in front of him. ‘Hopefully, it’ll all be over quickly and painlessly. It’ll be part time. Odd days here and there. I assess specific areas of healthcare delivery, then give you time to review and make changes. I have other things to do as well as this.’
‘Like?’ She wondered briefly why she wanted to know.
‘Assessing other practices, advising the government.’
No mention of family. A wife. A life outside work. But, then, why would he tell her anything about his private life? She’d given up any claims to that when she’d vanished from his family home in the middle of the night.
He retrieved a smartphone from his jacket pocket. Mim noticed the lush cobalt blue silk lining of his suit. His clothing alone could probably fund another month of Skye’s wages. Then he looked gingerly up at the Tassie-free spot.
‘Let’s get down to business. The sooner we start, the sooner I can leave—and I get the feeling that’s what we both want. First question: Why Dana’s Drop-In? It’s an unconventional name for a medical centre.’
I’m so not ready for this. Hauling in a deep breath, Mim resigned herself to the first of what she knew would be thousands of questions about her work, her strategy, business plan and practice. But the first simple question burned into her heart. Hopefully the others wouldn’t be so difficult to answer. ‘It’s named after my mother, Dana.’
‘Yes.’
She tried to look over his elbow to see what he was scribbling. ‘Do you have to write all this down?’
‘No. But I assume you’d want to give an explanation? It might help your case. Just outline your decision.’
‘Come on, Connor, you knew about her past. She had an illness for a long time. One that prevented her accessing healthcare on any kind of regular basis. She was an addict.’
‘I’m sorry, I know this must be painful.’
‘It happened. And we all have to move on.’ She saw her pain briefly mirrored in his eyes. Then the shutters came down, eradicating any emotion in his gaze. Moving on from tragedy was clearly something they’d both had to do.
She knew Connor’s sister had died a long time ago as a child—she’d seen a picture of a pretty blonde kid. But when she’d asked about it she’d been met with a wall of silence. And she’d never found the courage to enquire again.
For Mim, talking about her mother brought out a fierce love and protective instinct in her. The same, she imagined, that Connor felt about his sister. The same instinct she felt for her burgeoning clinic.
‘The drugs didn’t just destroy her, they destroyed any kind of family life. She was scared to go to the doctor in case she was judged. And she would have been. Dana was judged her whole life for winning and losing and everything in between. For what she could have been. What she wasn’t. Sad when a town pins their hopes on you, and you fail.’
Mim shrugged, fired now to continue. ‘She hated the sterility of the doctor’s surgery, the smell. I thought if I made this place accessible and non-judgemental, open and caring, then more people like her would come.’
He put his pen down and finally looked up at her, rested his chin on his fist. Like he was really seeing her for the first time since he’d walked back into her life. ‘You never talked about it like this. I didn’t realise … I’m surprised you got out whole.’
You don’t know the half of it. ‘Who said I was?’
‘From what I remember, you’re more whole than most.’ He smiled. It seemed genuine enough. Warm honey flecks flashed in his eyes.
Ah, there they are. She relaxed a little. It had taken time, but they were back. At least for now. At least he remembered some of their time together with fondness, then. Maybe he’d be gentle after all.
‘Dana’s dramas were a long time ago, and I had a great role model in my nan. My focus now is on family medicine. Keeping families healthy and safe. Besides …’
She forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood she’d sunk into. No point in dwelling on what had happened. She had a future ahead of her and she was going to make it work. Three months … ‘It fits well. Dana’s Drop-In. Imagine if she’d been called something like Janice or Patty. Janice’s Joint. Very inappropriate. Or Patty’s Place. Sounds like a pole-dancing club.’
He laughed. A deep rumble that teased the dark corners of her soul. Another thing she remembered about Connor. His laughter was infectious and rich. And she’d missed it. The granite softened. ‘Calling it Atanga Bay Medical Centre would have been just fine.’
‘Sure, but where’s the fun in that? I want to remind people of how Dana was before she got sick. How proud they were of her when she left to represent their country. Darling Dana. Not druggie Dana who came home in disgrace, who stole and lied and became an embarrassment.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘You’ve got to admit it’s unique. It’s open house, there’s free tea and coffee. A place to sit and chat. A small free library. Community resources. It works. Until I opened there was nothing in the way of medical services at all. Just look at the increasing patient list.’
‘Yes, I can see. It’s a surprising place to have a practice. The middle of nowhere. Albeit pretty spectacular. And you have a very unusual approach. But, then, you always were … unpredictable.’
His mouth curled into a reluctant half-smile. As if remembering something sweet, a past innocence. He reached out to her arm—a gentle gesture that five minutes ago she wouldn’t have believed he was capable of making. Hidden in the folds of that expensive suit, behind the cool exterior, was the determined and passionate man she’d fallen hopelessly in love with. There’d been a glimmer of him just now. But he’d gone again as he’d withdrawn his hand. ‘Now, on to question two.’
‘So? How’s it going?’ Two hours into the assessment Mim leaned against the doorway of the smallest admin room Connor had ever seen and nibbled the corner of her lip. A nervous habit he remembered of old.
In fact, lots of things had him spinning back three years. The scent of her mango body butter smell lingering in every space. The hesitant smile that was slow to blossom but that lit up her face. That pale, creamy thigh he’d glimpsed earlier. The way she looked at him as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.
The one who’d disappeared without trace and left him reeling.
