my dad used to talk about.’ Except he’d seen it in Vietnam. ‘Hard to imagine all the countries this water flows through.’
The driver stared at her blankly. Her English obviously beyond his comprehension. Or too fast. She tried again, a lot slower this time, and was rewarded with a glower at the mention of Vietnam.
‘Go now.’
Okay, lesson learned. Avoid mentioning the neighbours. After a few quick photos she climbed back into the jumbo, fingers crossed they were nearly at the clinic.
The next thing Ellie knew she was jerking forward and sliding to the edge of her seat.
‘Here centre,’ her driver told her. He must’ve braked hard.
She’d fallen asleep with all those amazing sights going by? Idiot. Looking around, she noted the rutted dirt road they’d stopped on. Beyond was a long, low building made of concrete blocks, painted drab grey. A few trees that she didn’t recognise grew in the sparsely grassed front yard. Nothing like home—which was exactly what she wanted, needed.
Out of the jumbo she stretched her back, then rubbed her neck where a sharp ache had set in. No doubt her head had been bobbing up and down like one of those toy dog things some people put in the back window of their cars. Great. Heat pounded at her while dust settled over her feet. What was a bit more grime? It’d wash off easily—as she hoped the past year would now she’d arrived in Laos, a place so far from her previous life it had to be good for her.
‘Come.’ The driver hoisted her bag and headed towards a wide door at the top of a concrete step, where a group of men and women sat looking as if they’d been there all day and would be there a lot longer. It had to be the main entrance.
She followed him, pausing to nod at the lethargic folk whose soft chatter had stopped as she approached. When she smiled and said, ‘Hello,’ they all smiled back, making her feel unbelievably good.
Inside it was not a lot cooler, and as she handed the man his fare and a huge tip she was greeted by a kind-looking woman who had to be about twenty years older than her. She came up and gripped Ellie in a tight hug. ‘Sandra Winter? Welcome to the amputee centre.’
As Ellie tried to pull out of this lovely welcome that wasn’t for her the woman continued, ‘We’ve been looking forward to your arrival all week. The doctor you’re replacing had to leave early. Oh, I’m Louise Warner, one of the permanent staff here. I’m the anaesthetist while my husband, Aaron, is a general surgeon. He’s gone to the market. You’ll meet him later, along with the rest of the staff.’
Ellie smiled, trying to keep her exhaustion at bay for just a little longer. ‘I’m not Sandra Winter. I’m—’
‘You’re not?’ Louise looked beyond her. ‘That explains the jumbo.’ Louise returned her gaze to Ellie, a huge query in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that we were expecting someone and I saw you and made a mistake.’
Ellie let her bag drop to the floor and held out her hand. ‘I am Ellie Thompson, your replacement doctor. Did you not receive an email from headquarters explaining there’d been a change? Sandra has had a family crisis and couldn’t come.’
Louise slowly took her proffered hand, but instead of shaking it wrapped her fingers around Ellie’s. ‘No email, no message at all. Nothing.’
Yeah, she was getting the picture. ‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I used to work with Sandra and when I heard how she couldn’t come I put my hand up. My contract with Wellington Hospital literally ran out the same week. It was manic for a few days.’ Hard to believe everything she’d got done to be ready in that time. Getting a passport and visas had had her running around town like a demented flea. She’d booked flights, bought appropriate clothes for the climate and job and had dinner with Renee and two friends. No wonder her head was spinning.
Louise still held her hand. ‘Forgive me for not knowing and thinking you were someone else. I am very grateful you could come over at such short notice. It can’t have been easy.’
No, but it had already begun to act like a balm to the wounds left by her husband and sister. ‘Believe me, I’m the grateful one here.’
‘We’ll debate that later. I’d better text Noi. He went to the airport to meet Sandra.’ She gave Ellie another quick hug.
When was the last time she’d been hugged so much? She wouldn’t count the tight grasp the head of A and E had given her at her farewell. A fish had more warmth, whereas this woman exuded the sort of kindness that would make anyone feel comfortable.
‘I’m very glad to be here.’ Where’s my bed? And the shower? All of a sudden her eyes felt heavy and gritty, her head full of candy floss and her legs were struggling to hold her upright.
‘The children are busting to meet you. And the staff.’ Louise finished her text and set off in the direction of a door, leaving Ellie no choice but to follow.
Of course she wanted to meet the kids she’d be working with, but right this minute? ‘How many children are here at the moment?’
‘Fourteen. But that number fluctuates almost daily depending on new casualties. Then there are the families who can’t leave their children here, or can’t get to see them at all so that we go out to their villages for follow-up care. I’m only talking about the amputees. The hospital annex sees to a lot of other casualties, too.’ Louise sighed. ‘It’s hard. For the patients and their families. And us. In here.’
They entered what appeared to be a classroom. Ellie must’ve looked surprised because Louise explained, ‘We have teachers working with the children who stay on after their surgeries. Some are with us for months so we try to keep the education going during their stay.’
Chairs scraped on the wooden floor as kids stood up, some not easily, and the reason quickly became apparent. Three had lost a leg or a foot. Looking closer, Ellie noted other major injuries on all the children.
Her heart rolled. What was tiredness compared to everything these youngsters were coping with? She dug deep, found a big smile and tried to eyeball each and every kid in front of her. ‘Hi, everyone. I am Ellie.’ She stepped up to the first boy. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Ng.’ The lad put out his left hand, his right one not there.
Ellie wound her fingers around the small hand and squeezed gently. ‘Hello, Ng. How old are you?’ Then she nearly slapped her forehead. These kids wouldn’t understand English, would they?
‘Six.’
Six and he’d lost an arm. And he understood her language. A well of tears threatened, which was so unprofessional. Do that and Louise would be putting her back on that train. Gulping hard, she turned to the next child. But seriously? She really had nothing to complain about.
The next half hour sped by with Ellie sitting and chatting with each child. Not all of them understood her words but they must’ve picked up on her empathy and her teasing because soon they all crowded around touching her, pointing at themselves and laughing a lot. Over the next few days she’d get to know them better as she changed dressings and helped with rehab, but this first meeting was unbelievable. She filed away each name and face so that she’d never have to ask them again. They deserved her utmost respect and she’d make sure they got it.
‘Ellie?
