Australian Affairs: Seduced. Carol Marinelli
boot-faced when he came on duty on the morning of the funeral to work alongside yet another locum and one he didn’t particularly like.
‘Harry’s hardly going to miss the funeral,’ Marnie pointed out. ‘But cover’s been arranged for the weekend. Helen Cummings is covering the night shifts and she’s really good. I worked with her a lot at the Royal…’
‘What about next week?’ Sheldon said, but Marnie had no answer.
‘Who’s in charge this morning?’ Lillian asked.
Marnie explained what had been arranged. ‘Miriam’s working till ten then going to the funeral. I’m going to have a couple of hours’ sleep in the on-call room and then we’re running a skeleton staff till two p.m. and the place will be on bypass.’
Marnie watched Lillian’s lips disappear. Putting the department on bypass cost the hospital a lot in fines, but Marnie almost dared Lillian to question the decision on the day of Dr Vermont’s funeral. It was going to be huge—several surgical lists had been rescheduled so that colleagues could pay their respects, a huge entourage would be leaving from the hospital, then there would be drinks and refreshments for those who wanted them after the official wake. Whoever had said no one was indispensable had never met Dr Vermont.
‘We’re all trying our best,’ Marnie said. ‘I called Dr Cooper but he can’t start any sooner as he’s working his notice till the last day. I think I might have to call Juan…’
‘He’s on his honeymoon.’ Even the hard-nosed Lillian was reluctant to go that far, or perhaps she knew Juan too well. He was one of the rare few who had worked to get balance in his life and knew his priorities. Terminating his honeymoon wouldn’t be an option. ‘I doubt he’s going to fly back from Argentina,’ Lillian said, but Marnie just shrugged.
‘Well, he is a consultant, perhaps he’d want to know that the place is collapsing.’
‘Rather you than me,’ Lillian said.
Marnie checked the local time in Argentina on the computer and, seeing it was early evening, decided to give it a try, but even the switchboard operator was reluctant to give her an outside line.
‘Yes, it’s a mobile I’m trying to call!’ Marnie rolled her eyes at Miriam, who had just come on. ‘Well, I don’t know his landline number in Argentina, he could be anywhere. I just want to be put through to his mobile…’ She was halted from continuing as the receiver was taken from her hand. Marnie turned to the delicious sight of Harry in a black suit and tie and, though it was expertly knotted, it was just a tiny bit off centre and his collar needed arranging, but thankfully she managed to resist, focusing instead on the gorgeous waft of cologne.
‘Our mistake,’ Harry said to the switchboard operator. He hung up the phone and then looked down at Marnie. ‘You’d really do it, wouldn’t you?’
‘Watch me!’ Marnie said, trying to get at the phone, but Harry blocked her.
‘You cannot call a man on his honeymoon to fly back to work.’ Harry hadn’t done a lot of smiling this week and he was trying not to now as he looked down in disbelief at Marnie. ‘We’re trying to prevent the next consultant dropping dead from a heart attack, Marnie.’
‘Well, I’d want to know.’
‘Really?’ Harry checked. ‘Lying by the pool on your honeymoon, next to the man of your dreams, you’d really want a phone call telling you to get back here.’
‘Ha,’ Marnie said. ‘I hate sunbathing and there’ll be no ring on this finger…’ She held up that perfect finger in an almost inappropriate gesture. ‘Anyway, Harry, you’ve no right to be stopping me. Soon this place won’t be your problem any more.’
‘Well, for this morning it still is and you are not ringing Juan.’
‘Fine,’ Marnie said, and turned to Miriam. ‘I’m going to the doctors’ on-call room to have a sleep. Wake me when you want to start getting ready for the funeral.’ She looked back to Harry. ‘Good luck today. Are you speaking?’
‘I am.’ Harry grimaced. ‘I’m just going to go and get my car washed and then—’
‘You should have washed it on your way home last night.’
‘I was tired.’
‘Bet you wish you’d done it last night this morning!’
‘No,’ Harry lied. ‘Actually, I’m going round to my office now to read through the speech and then go and sort out the car…’
‘Keep it short.’
‘Sorry?’ She was telling him how to speak at a funeral!
‘Short’s better,’ Marnie said.
‘This from a woman who never stops talking? So you’re an expert in funerals now, are you?’
‘Actually, now you mention it…’ She gave him a smile but then it turned to a more sympathetic one. ‘I hope it goes as well as it can.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Harry.’ She looked up at him, those blue eyes blazing, her lips worrying. ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t stop myself. It is a funeral you’re going to after all…’ Two very cold but terribly beautiful hands were at his neck, fixing his collar and tie.
‘I can dress myself.’
‘I know,’ Marnie said, ‘but you were right, Kelly.’ She briefly glanced at Kelly, whose cheeks turned to ruby as she found out first hand that Marnie knew exactly what was being said about her. ‘I think I do have a touch of OCD and I just cannot let you go without fixing your collar, Harry.’ Oh, it was perfect now, collar down, knot in the centre. ‘After all, you’re representing the department!’
It wasn’t intimate in the least, Harry told himself, and that was confirmed two minutes later when he saw her in the corridor, dusting down Eric’s shoulders with a lint brush she just happened to keep in her office.
No, it wasn’t intimate, but why could he still feel her fingers on his neck?
Why, when he saw from his office Marnie disappearing into the on-call room, did he sit there, wondering if she’d undress for bed?
Oh, help, Harry thought as she came out shoeless in stockinged feet with her hair down and returned a moment later with a pair of scrubs in her hand to change from that navy dress into pyjamas.
No, the little finger gesture hadn’t been inappropriate—what was inappropriate was his thoughts on the morning of Dr Vermont’s funeral.
He got up and closed the door, so as not to think of her.
It didn’t work.
She’d drive you crazy, Harry told himself.
And as for bed, Harry attempted to alleviate the ache in his groin with the thought of Marnie moaning that she’d just changed the sheets, or maybe putting little towels down in case he dared to so much as spill a drop.
‘Filthy business!’ He could almost hear her saying it and, yes, that thought almost worked, except he remembered only too well their kiss and two minutes later Harry gave up focusing on the speech and headed out to get the car washed.
Anything for the distraction.
Marnie, his mind had decided, would be deliciously filthy.
‘Marnie!’
Marnie peeled her eyes open as she heard Miriam’s voice at the door. ‘Marnie.’
‘I’m up,’ Marnie called, and on autopilot headed to the sink and brushed her teeth. There was nothing worse than a two-hour sleep after a night shift.
Well, there was a whole lot worse, Marnie told herself as she washed her face, but the point she was making to herself was that getting up from a short sleep, when you really needed