With Love From Cape Town. Joss Wood
her ribs. There had been a time when their eyes would have met across the room and she would have known exactly what he was thinking. That he wanted to leave, so he could make love to her. At one time, they couldn’t get enough of each other. At one time no words had been necessary.
At dinner, she and Niall were placed at different sides of the table and she was thankful that they wouldn’t have to pretend to everyone to be wrapped up in each other. Throughout the seemingly endless meal she would look up from conversations she was having with the guests on either side to find Niall’s unfathomable eyes on her. Whenever he caught her eye he would smile dutifully and she would grin back as if her heart wasn’t breaking.
After the main course, the band struck up and Niall got to his feet, came over to her side, and held out a hand to her.
‘Shall we, darling?’ he drawled. As usual he was playing the attentive husband role and if he had a sardonic look in his cool blue eyes, only Robina saw it.
Conscious of several pairs of eyes on them, she let him whirl her around the dance floor. His hand was low on her back as he guided her and she could feel his fingers on her bare skin, burning into her. The movement of the dance brought her body tight against his and she let her body melt into him, taking the opportunity to let herself believe, even for a few minutes, that they were a normal couple, still in love.
Her head only reached as far as his shoulder, and she rested her head against the rough material of his suit, breathing in the scent of soap and the faint smell of his aftershave.
‘What did Richard Christchurch want?’ he murmured into her ear, his breath like a caress.
‘He wants me to appear on his show.’ She smiled up at him, conscious that people would be watching.
‘And will you?’ He frowned. ‘Be careful, Robina. He’s a snake.’
The concern in his voice was unexpected. ‘I can look after myself,’ she responded lightly.
Niall’s answer was to pull her closer and Robina let herself relax into his arms, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her, even if it was all for show. All too soon the music ended and they returned to their seats.
The evening was almost over when Robina heard a commotion coming from the rear of the room. Looking across, she noticed several people had jumped out of their seats and were standing about in confusion.
She glanced across at Niall. The noise had attracted his attention too.
‘Someone call an ambulance.’ The voice cutting across the room was shrill, panic not far away.
Wordlessly, she and Niall were on their feet moving swiftly across the room. As the crowd parted, Robina’s heart missed a beat. On the floor lay a middle-aged man, his face grey and his lips tinged with blue. He didn’t appear to be breathing. Immediately Niall took command of the situation. Squatting beside the stricken man, he loosened his tie and felt for a pulse.
‘What happened?’ he asked the woman who had cried out.
‘Bill…my husband…he said he had indigestion earlier. He took something for it, but then all of a sudden he said the pain was getting worse and he would go to the bathroom. But when he stood he clutched his chest and just dropped to the floor.’ The woman’s teeth were chattering with shock. Niall looked at Robina.
‘No pulse. We need to start CPR.’
‘Call an ambulance,’ Robina told one of the bystanders. ‘Tell them we have a cardiac arrest.’ In the same breath she dropped to Niall’s side. Aware of the eyes of the room on her and the flash of cameras, she shut them out of her mind. First and foremost she was a doctor and this man needed their help. It had been some time since she had done any clinical practice and she was hugely relieved that Niall was with her. She knew that, as a practising clinician, he was required to keep his resus skills up to date.
He was pressing on the stricken man’s chest, counting off the beats under his breath. She waited for him to count to thirty before she bent over the stricken man and, taking a deep breath, tipped his head back and blew twice into his mouth.
The room was deathly quiet as she and Niall worked together, completely in synch as they once had been in everything. As long as they could keep blood circulating in his system until the ambulance arrived, the man had a chance. They worked silently, until after a couple of minutes the man coughed.
‘I’ve got a pulse,’ Niall said. He looked at her and grinned. Robina’s heart rate escalated further. With his help she turned Bill onto his side, into the recovery position. There was little they could do now until the ambulance arrived, but it looked as if Bill would make it.
‘Is he all right?’ his wife was asking frantically. ‘Please tell me he’s going to be okay.’
Robina stood, easing the stiffness from her legs. ‘It’s early days yet, but he’s breathing on his own now. And that’s good. The paramedics will be able to give him something when they arrive, and the sooner he gets to the hospital the better.’
‘Oh, thank God. Thank you. Thank you.’ The woman dropped to her knees and cradled her husband’s head in her lap. She looked up at Robina, her eyes wet. ‘Thank you, Dr Zondi. You’ve saved his life.’
Robina was embarrassed. ‘It’s Dr Ferguson you have to thank,’ she said. But as she smiled into Niall’s eyes she was dismayed to find the shutters had come back down and he looked as distant as he always did these days.
The doors swung open as the paramedics rushed into the room, carrying a portable defibrillator and medical supplies. Robina stepped back, knowing that Bill was in safe hands. She turned to look at Niall, but he had already turned away and was striding away from her. She bit down on her disappointment as the cameras continued to flash.
‘Please,’ she said, suddenly furious. ‘Give this man and his wife some privacy, can’t you? This isn’t a live TV show, for goodness’ sake.’
Chastised, the photographers lowered their cameras and stood about looking shamefaced.
The paramedics lifted Bill onto the stretcher and moved briskly towards the exit, Bill’s wife following closely behind. As they left, the photographers picked up their cameras again and focussed on Robina, the flashes blinding her.
She had to get out of there. She whirled around, trying to remember what she had done with her coat, and then Niall was by her side, holding it out for her to slip her arms into.
‘I think my wife has earned the right to some privacy, don’t you?’ he told the reporters. His tone was even, but Robina could hear the suppressed fury behind the words. He would hate the way the man’s heart attack had turned into a circus. All because she was there, and everything she did was newsworthy. Robina had no doubt that her picture would be splashed all over the morning’s newspaper. It was one thing not to have any privacy, it came with the territory after all, but quite another for photos of the unconscious man to make the news. She felt Niall’s hand on her elbow and then she was being steered out of the room and into their waiting car.
Inside the safety of their limousine, Robina felt the adrenaline seep out of her body. Uncomfortably aware of the length of the hard muscles of his thigh against her leg, she shifted slightly in her seat, wanting to put some distance between them. Despite the tumult of different emotions she felt towards him, he still had the power to send her senses into overdrive. Tonight, working with him over that poor man, she had remembered why she had fallen in love with him in the first place. He was a good man, a kind man. Couldn’t they try to put the past behind them and move on? Try to be friends at least? It had taken little steps to destroy their marriage—could little steps take them back?
She reached for his hand as she prepared the words in her head.
Niall brought her fingers to his lips and kissed the back of her hand, the feel of his lips sending shock waves through her body. But then, his eyes glinting in the semi-darkness, he took her hand and replaced it in her lap with a little pat, as if she were a child.
‘Well