The Australian's Bride: Marrying the Millionaire Doctor / Children's Doctor, Meant-to-be Wife / A Bride and Child Worth Waiting For. Marion Lennox
‘She can’t possibly go to that disco,’ Kirsty declared. ‘All those children together when there’s a flu bug going around.’
Judging by the way a nearby door swung open at that point, the subject of the conversation had been eavesdropping. Susie could only hope she hadn’t heard the entire exchange but Lauren certainly looked less than happy.
‘I’m going to the disco,’ she announced. ‘You can’t stop me.’
Lauren was the same age as Stella but so far the only thing the two girls had in common was a crush on Jamie. Rebellion against parental edicts could now be added, Susie thought with a wry smile. Maybe the girls would end up being friends after all.
‘Susie!’ Miranda had spotted her arrival. ‘You helped Lauren with her airway clearance this morning. What did you think of her condition?’
‘No change from yesterday,’ Susie responded. She smiled at Lauren. ‘I think her technique’s improved this week, as well. She’s been trying hard.’
‘DrWetherby?’ A large woman, wearing an impressive selection of gold jewellery, came from behind Susie. ‘Please, could you come and see Eddie again? He’s been sick and he says the pain in his chest is getting worse.’
The wheelchair swivelled. ‘Is Dr Stuart with him?’
‘She did tests. The electric whatever it was.’
‘Electrocardiogram?’
‘Yes. And she took a lot of blood. I think she’s gone somewhere with all the test tubes.’
Charles was moving towards Susie. He paused for just a moment as he left the Allandales. ‘It’s your call,’ he told Miranda. ‘We’ve certainly got the space to keep Lauren in the centre overnight and I’m sure a flight out could be arranged tomorrow if necessary.’
‘No!’ Lauren’s face crumpled. ‘You can’t make me go home. I want to stay here.’
‘It’s too dangerous, darling,’ her mother pleaded. ‘There’s all these bugs!’
‘I don’t care! I’ve never been to a disco. Please, Mummy! What if…?’ Lauren’s eyes widened theatrically. ‘What if it’s the only chance I ever get?’
‘Oh, darling… Don’t say that!’ Kirsty’s arms went round her daughter.
Miranda closed her eyes for a second.
‘Where’s Jack?’ Susie asked her. ‘If I get his therapy done, I can go to the disco myself and keep an eye on Lauren.’
‘Room 4,’ Miranda responded quietly. ‘I’ll join you as soon as we’re sorted here.’ She raised her voice slightly. ‘I’ve got Jack started on a hefty antibiotic regime but his chest isn’t sounding great.’
Rick was frowning. ‘You know, they say the worst place to pick up bugs is in a hospital. Fresh air on the beach might not be such a bad idea.’
‘Is it?’ Kirsty looked fearfully over her shoulder, as though someone was about to pop out of a room and infect them all.
‘I’d better go and see Jack,’ Susie told them. ‘He really is sick.’
That seemed to settle it for the Allandales. ‘Let’s go,’ Kirsty suggested hurriedly. ‘We’ll talk about the disco when we’re outside.’
Jack Havens was twelve and quite independent. He had happily come to camp without any family support and usually managed his own airway clearance techniques by himself, but right now he was feeling rotten.
‘My head hurts,’ he told Susie. ‘And I feel all hot and everything aches.’
‘Sounds like flu, you poor old thing,’ Susie commiserated. ‘Is it feeling harder to breathe?’
Jack nodded miserably. ‘Dr Miranda said I had to stay here tonight. For medicine and oxygen and stuff.’
‘We’ll look after you,’ Susie promised. ‘I’m here to see if I can help you clear your chest a bit. If we get rid of some of the junk in your lungs, it means there’s less places for the bugs to hide and grow. Do you feel up to bit of percussion? I’ll be gentle and it might make you feel a bit better.’
‘OK…’
‘Good boy. I’ll just go and collect some nice big pillows.’
This time the corridor showed a change in activity. The Allandales had disappeared but Beth Stuart was there, showing Charles a sheet of pink paper.
‘No sign of an infarct,’ she was saying. ‘I suspect the chest pain is due to his viral infection.’
‘Sounds as if there are a few people at the resort down with it.’ Charles sounded tired. ‘Couldn’t be happening at a worse time, could it, with the camp going on?’
‘We’ll cope.’ Beth smiled at Susie. ‘How’s Jack?’
‘Not feeling the best. I’m going to see how clear I can get his chest. I’ll try and make it a quick session.’
But it took a lot longer than usual. The boy was tired and each change of position that assisted the drainage of different lobes of the lungs was slow. Susie kept her percussion as gentle as she could, tapping her cupped hands carefully on the small chest and back. Coughing was also painfully slow and not particularly effective.
‘Try huffing,’ Susie told him more than once. ‘Like making a mirror steam up, remember? Sometimes it works better than coughing.’
Miranda came back and the session was interrupted for an examination and medication. Nebulised antibiotics were administered at the end and Susie stayed to help the nurse settle Jack into a comfortable position for sleeping.
By the time Susie had put away the equipment she’d used, it was half past nine. She left the medical centre and hurried into the warm darkness outside. She was far later than she’d intended being, but a dance or two was just what she felt like and Ben wasn’t due to stop the music until 10:00 p.m. She could hear it now, the upbeat strains of something that could lift her spirits even from this distance.
Except that another sound could also be heard. Susie answered her mobile reluctantly.
‘Sorry to disturb you…’ The voice on the other end of the line must have picked up on her reluctance. ‘Charles gave me your number. It’s Alex Vavunis speaking.’
Susie had known that from the first word he’d uttered. Like everything else about Stella’s father, his voice was a new experience. Authoritative. Dark. A distinct hint of a foreign accent. She had to pull in a new breath.
‘No problem. What can I do for you, Alex?’
‘It’s Stella.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘I…I don’t know.’ He cleared his throat. ‘She… ah…won’t talk to me.’
Susie looked down the beach to where she could see bright lights changing colour at regular intervals. ‘Isn’t Stella at the disco?’
‘No. She’s…ah…locked herself in the bathroom.’
They must have had another argument. Probably about what Stella wanted to wear to the disco. But that should have been sorted a couple of hours ago. Just how long had Stella been locked in the bathroom? And why was Alex calling her?
‘Susie?’ The voice was softer now. It had what she could only interpret as a faintly bewildered air. ‘I think I might need your help.’
THE distance between