A Doctor, A Fling & A Wedding Ring. Fiona McArthur
probably seen just the opposite. In fact, maybe she should cultivate him and relearn her humour and fluff from the fantasy world of shipboard existence. Good candidate.
‘Don’t worry. You’ll have fun.’ Could he read her mind?
She tasted the word. Rolled it around in her mouth and nibbled at it. Fun. Imagine. She grimaced. Boy, was she out of practice.
This guy looked like he rolled in good times. Most likely shimmied in sex. ‘I’ll try.’ She had no doubt he could provide her with more fun than even Doug would want for her if she made any effort at all. Scary thought but she’d been a reasonably fun person before she’d grown up.
The emergency drill session at the front of the room started and she sat up straight.
Nick watched her concentrate as the senior safety officer began to speak. So a serious pupil, determined to pay attention and learn all she could before the new influx of passengers arrived that afternoon. That was good.
He was interested too, had had a private introduction as a manager that had been more in-depth and he’d come along to see if his staff were attending, but there was no doubt he’d become distracted by the intensity that Tara gave to her own process of learning.
He sat forward and concentrated. Had to admit he was keen to see where she’d be deployed compared to him. He might just have to keep an eye on her.
He guessed he had the advantage, having worked on ships before. After he’d qualified he’d done a year as junior doctor on board the sister ship to this one, and had actually been instrumental in Wilhelm deciding to try the life. So his old friend owed him and he’d called in that favour to put a word in for his sister when she’d gone down with pneumonia.
But all they’d been able to manage was Nick replacing Kiki for the two weeks or her bar manager’s job would go. Luckily for Kiki, he didn’t mind. He’d been due for a holiday anyway.
His ex-girlfriend, Jasmin, had been getting way too serious and not been pleased to jet off from Rome to New York on her own. Hence the relief in his newly single status. Family came first and he made no apologies. Especially when it suited him.
His attention flicked back to the lecture. The safety officer discussed the routine of a compulsory muster for all passengers before they sailed and outlined the crew’s duties as emergency officers. Not much had changed and he was glad to see he was on the same station as Tara.
With over three thousand passengers and one thousand crew members the ship would give enough opportunities for her to slip out of sight. He couldn’t remember when he’d last been so aware of planning to ‘bump into’ a woman.
Usually it just happened—or not. Funny how he didn’t feel the same relaxed acceptance of fate with this slip of a medic beside him. Must be because she looked so frail—in an I-can-look-after-myself way that dared him to mention it. He wasn’t saying a thing but he’d be watching for her.
But as the middle child and only male in the family, it was his job to make everyone smile. After his parents had died it had been even more reason to be the entertainer. He was still the entertainer. He could show this Tara a very good time.
* * *
Tara walked away from Nick Fender. Fender? She could imagine the guy with an air guitar, thrusting his hips and pretending.
She blinked. What? Had she left her brain back in that room? She concentrated on the directions to the hospital pinned to the wall in front of her.
She had to keep reminding herself she was at work. It was so strange without the need to rush from one emergency to the next.
With the help of the occasional map, Tara navigated two stairwells and a corridor and found her way back to the hospital where Marie, the head nurse, was shifting boxes of supplies.
‘Let me help with that.’ Tara hurried forward and helped lift the other side of an awkwardly shaped parcel Marie wanted on the desk.
The nurse brushed the hair out of her eyes when the parcel was safely stowed. ‘Thanks, Tara. It’s the new ECG machine. It wasn’t heavy but, boy, was it awkward.’
‘So what else can I do for you?’ Tara glanced around. Boxes everywhere.
Marie grinned at her. ‘Seriously, I’m just unpacking. First day is all about unpacking and stowing.’
Tara rubbed her hands. Activity would be excellent. ‘Then I’ll help. It’s the best way to find where things live anyway. Can’t be asking you where everything is all the time.’
The two women smiled at each other and Tara felt like she’d gone the first step to making at least one friend. ‘Always happy to have help. Though you’ll have to go through the crew’s notes before we leave this afternoon. Those with illnesses they’ve notified us of, anyway.’
She gestured Tara through to the ward area and a sterile supply room. ‘Reckon this will be the place that confuses you most.’
The storeroom was wall-to-wall shelves. She glanced around and Tara wondered if she’d get back to being as easy to talk to as Marie was. Her own conversation skills needed repolishing—just those few exchanges with air-guitar Nick had shown her that—and she wanted to fit in. Drop her doom-and-gloom mantle that had grown since she’d married and try at least to pretend to join in with ‘normal’ people.
The day passed swiftly, especially when the passengers came on board. Most of them looked as lost as Tara had been when she’d been out of the hospital but the mood was high and excited and totally different from the world Tara had just left.
Tara stood with Marie on the deck and watched the lines being cast off, then they eased away from the dock and maybe she could adjust to the sway of the ship and the routines on board. It was all so different from the hectic rush from one dire patient to the next.
Normally the clinic for passengers opened three times a day for two hours. The crew phoned down for quick access most of the time.
Today the passenger clinic would open once except for emergencies—most of which Wilhelm would deal with. Lovely change. She only dealt with occupational mishaps of the crew, minor illnesses among them, and passenger cabin calls when Wilhelm couldn’t attend.
Even her cabin on the crew deck seemed outrageously luxurious compared to her tent at the camp. Air-conditioning and hot and cold running water and a porthole that was much larger than she’d expected and afforded an amazing view across the water. She just might be in heaven.
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN Tara woke on her first morning they weren’t even at sea. They’d docked at six a.m. She’d never got around to really studying the itinerary before she’d boarded, had been so busy finding routes and equipment that when she opened the blinds, pleasure craft and even a castle on a mountain seemed surreal. Here she was, peering out of her window at the glorious bay of Monte Carlo.
Another good night’s sleep had lightened her step and she found herself smiling as passengers oohed and ahhed over the rich and famous playground off which they’d anchored. There was something amazingly special about sitting at anchor on a floating hotel adjacent to a charming principality.
When Tara walked into the clinic waiting room she found it surprisingly busy for a day in port until she realised that most passengers wanted their tests and injections before they left on the tenders heading for shore.
When she offered to help with the backlog, Marie sent her in a young mother and her small son.
The woman was petite, perfectly coiffed and immaculately dressed. ‘I’m Gwen, and this is my son, Tommy.’ The woman patted his head and touched her son’s forehead. ‘I’m so worried. He’s got spots. He’s not contagious, is he?’
I sincerely hope not, Tara thought as she looked down at the little boy. ‘Hello, Tommy.’ Tara bent down and the little boy held out his hand for Tara