there’s someone else,’ Clara mumbled, hoping Shelly would take the hint but knowing it was futile. It wouldn’t even enter Shelly’s head to put her hand up.
Why bother when there was good old Clara?
‘There isn’t,’ Shelly sighed. ‘Kell’s the only other nurse and as he’s on a day off I can’t get hold of him. We might not even need anyone. The Flying Doctors could come at any time, they might even be here this morning and then tonight’s off duty won’t even be an issue. But when they do come they’re going to want a thorough handover, it’s just not fair to ask Irene to do it when she’s barely looked after him. Look, Clara, I’d do it myself, it’s just…’ Her voice trailed off, and Clara knew she was waiting for her to jump in, knew Shelly was waiting for her to let out an incredulous laugh and say, no, don’t worry. She knew how much Shelly was looking forward to the ball, knew Shelly had been on a post-pregnancy diet for weeks and was looking forward to finally having a romantic night with her husband Ross, Tennengarrah’s resident doctor, and that of course Clara wasn’t suggesting that she actually work tonight.
But for the first time in living memory Clara stood firm. Tonight was just too important to her.
‘What about Abby?’ Clara suggested hopefully, and not with entirely innocent intentions either. Abby Hampton, an efficient doctor from the city who was nearing the end of her three-month stint in the outback, had been the thorn in Clara’s side for weeks now and the prospect of Tennengarrah’s ball without the stunning Dr Hampton present was extremely appealing. Even so, Clara blushed guiltily as she pressed the point, knowing her motives weren’t entirely pure. ‘I know she’s a doctor, but we all pitch in with things like this, and she’s not exactly enamoured of the place. I’m sure Abby wouldn’t mind holding the fort.’
‘I can’t ask Abby.’ Shelly shook her head, but an excited smile was starting to form on her lips as she looked around to check that the coast was clear. ‘Honestly, Clara, I just can’t.’
‘What’s going on?’ Clara asked. ‘Come on, Shelly, tell me. There’s only Bill here and he’s asleep. Why can’t you ask Abby?’
‘You have to promise not to breathe a word.’ Shelly’s eyes were wide. She was grinning broadly now and Clara found herself reluctantly smiling back, her annoyance with Shelly’s thoughtlessness evaporating at the chance of a piece of gossip.
‘I promise. Come on, Shelly, don’t keep me in suspense. Has she finally decided to head off back to Sydney to her beloved emergency department?’ Clara asked, rather too hopefully.
‘Oh, it’s better than that,’ Shelly said excitedly, perching herself on the edge of the desk and beckoning Clara closer. ‘And if you let it slip I’ll never—’
‘Get on with it.’ Clara laughed, sitting back on her seat and waiting to hear what Shelly was so excited about.
‘I can’t ask Abby to work tonight, because I have it on excellent authority that someone else wants to ask her something.’
‘I’m not with you.’ Clara shook her head, bemused.
‘You really don’t have a clue, do you? Where have you been hiding the last week or so, Clara? The bush telegraph’s been working overtime,’ Shelly whispered excitedly. ‘Guess where Kell is?’
‘On a day off.’
‘Yes, but guess what he’s doing?’
‘He said he was going into town,’ Clara shrugged. ‘Bruce was going to fly him there.’
‘Which he did a couple of weeks ago, and Bruce saw him going into a jeweller’s!’ When Clara still didn’t catch on Shelly thumped her playfully on the arm, jumping off the desk with an excited whoop as for Clara reality finally dawned. ‘Kell’s going to ask Abby to marry him, Clara! I’m on my way over to Abby’s now. I’ve managed to squeeze her in to get her hair and nails done, though she’s absolutely no idea what Kell’s got planned. I can’t possibly tell her that Bill’s finally decided to have the op or she’ll be over in a flash, that’s why I’m bending over backwards to sort out the roster and make sure everything goes smoothly. Nothing must spoil tonight for them. Can you believe Kell’s actually going to propose?’
Clara couldn’t.
For a moment the world stopped. She could hear Shelly laughing and talking in the background, was vaguely aware even of Ross and some other guy walking in, but for that moment in time her heart felt as if it wasn’t beating any more. Clutching Bill’s pile of notes to her chest as if it were some sort of shield, she sat there as the news washed over her.
Kell Bevan was going to propose.
After all these years Kell had finally got off his blue-jeaned backside and made a flight into town to pick up a ring on the day of the Tennengarrah ball.
It was just how she’d imagined it.
Just how she’d secretly dreamed it would be. The barn alight with fairy-lights, tea-candles burning on the tables, the scent of white gardenias filling the night air, the stars twinkling endlessly above as Kell finally proposed.
Maybe she hadn’t prayed hard enough.
Perhaps when she’d made the mental bargain with the powers that be she hadn’t been specific enough, had forgotten to point out what should have been so blazingly obvious.
Kell should have been asking her.
‘AND this is Clara, who knows more about Tennengarrah than the whole lot of us put together, don’t you?’
‘Sorry?’ Realising that not only was she being spoken to but that a response was very much the order of the day, Clara turned her slightly startled expression to Ross.
‘I was just telling Timothy here how much we all depend on you, and that if he needs anything he only has to ask.’ Ross Bodey’s rather strained smile left Clara in no doubt she’d been daydreaming too long and it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
‘He’s the new doctor,’ Shelly mumbled in an undertone, pushing Clara forward to shake Timothy’s outstretched hand. ‘From England.’
‘But you’re not due for a couple of weeks yet.’
It wasn’t the most welcoming of greetings—in fact, on a rating of one to ten it would barely have scored—but, given the bombshell Shelly had just been dropped, Clara was amazed she could actually speak, and what was more her voice even sounded vaguely familiar!
‘I ran out of cash.’
His admission startled her out of her confusion momentarily. Shifting the pile of notes into one arm, Clara accepted the outstretched hand and found herself looking into two smiling green eyes, even managing a rather forced smile back as thankfully he went over the formalities she had clearly missed.
‘Timothy Morgan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘Clara Watts,’ she mumbled, stealing a closer look. He certainly didn’t look like someone who would run out of cash. His
