‘Not quite everything.’ Jack Trent’s tone had softened once more, and Meg’s finely drawn brows rose when she heard the thread of excitement it held now. It seemed a contradiction in terms—Jack Trent displaying excitement about anything—so her interest was immediately piqued.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, trying to imagine how he would look with a smile softening those chiselled lips. Her heart gave a small bump when she found it only too easy to imagine it, and she bit her lip, not sure why the picture that had formed in her mind was so unsettling. Jack Trent was handsome all right and she didn’t dispute it, but she certainly wasn’t attracted to him. The idea was ridiculous! However, it took several seconds before the beguiling image of his smiling face faded from her mind, and a couple more before she realised that he was speaking.
‘I didn’t think it would be ready on time but they pulled out all the stops. There’s everything we need on board…consulting rooms, two operating theatres, even a small hospital bay if we need to keep any patients under observation, plus all the facilities to cater to our personal needs, of course.’
‘On board…I’m sorry but I don’t understand. On board what exactly?’ Meg queried bemusedly.
He laughed deeply, the rich sound flowing down the line and making her heart flutter again. ‘Sorry. I’ve lived with this night and day for almost a year now so I forget that other people aren’t as clued up on this project as I am. We shall be using a converted steam train as our base while we are over there. It means that we shall be able to travel throughout the country and see far more patients than we could normally have done.’
‘A steam train!’ Meg couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice and she heard him laugh again.
‘I know! Sounds incredible, doesn’t it? Evidently, the train was shipped to Oncamba during the early part of the century and used for many years. However, it was left to rust until the new ruler discovered it when he came to power a couple of years ago. It’s thanks to his determination to do something to help his people that this whole venture has got off the ground, in fact.’
Jack’s voice was filled with admiration. ‘He contacted the agency and asked for help, suggesting that if enough money could be raised then the engine would be the perfect means of getting around the country. Evidently, most of the roads had fallen into such a state of disrepair during the previous ruler’s time that travelling about is a nightmare. We in turn contacted various charities and the outcome was enough money to have the train fitted out to our specifications.’
He paused and she wasn’t deaf to the sudden flatness of his tone, such a marked contrast to the enthusiasm he’d shown just moments earlier. ‘So, Ms Andrews, the Oncamba Angel will be not only your place of work but where you will eat, sleep and live for the next three months. While it will be better than working in a hut somewhere in the bush, it certainly won’t be luxurious by western standards, so are you sure that you still want to come along?’
‘That sounds almost as though you’re expecting me to say no!’
Meg laughed but she could hear the edge in her voice and knew that Jack Trent must have heard it, too. Suddenly she didn’t care what he thought, whether or not he would prefer her to take a coolly professional approach. Anger rippled through her as she held the receiver closer, wanting to be sure that he understood what she was saying.
‘Yes, I want to come, Dr Trent, and, no, the thought of the lack of luxury doesn’t bother me. You may be surprised to know that the only thing I’m interested in is doing this job to the very best of my ability. That’s the reason I signed up with the agency, so that I could—in some small way—make a difference to the lives of people who desperately need help.’
She took a small breath, aware that she was trembling after her impassioned outburst. What Jack Trent thought of it she had no idea because it was a few moments before he spoke, and even then his tone gave away nothing about his feelings.
‘In that case I shall look forward to seeing you on Thursday, Ms Andrews. Goodbye.’
He’d hung up before she could reply. Meg slowly replaced the receiver, wishing momentarily that she hadn’t said what she had. But why not? She’d meant every word and she hoped that Dr Jack Trent had taken note of it. Whether he liked the idea or not, she would be at the airport on Thursday. She could hardly wait!
‘Jack Trent! Not the Jack Trent I saw on television last night?’
Meg was on a late that day and had been getting changed to go on duty when her friend, Maggie Carr, arrived for work. Meg had just finished regaling Maggie with what had happened that morning and had to admit that she was surprised by what her friend had said.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t watch television last night because I made a start on painting the kitchen,’ she replied, frowning.
Maggie dragged her sweater over her head then shook back her hair. She and Meg were complete opposites in colouring. Maggie’s olive skin and black hair hinted at her Mediterranean ancestry whereas Meg, with her long blonde hair, delicately fair complexion and deep blue eyes, was a typical English rose. Now Meg hid a smile as she saw her friend roll her eyes in a gesture reminiscent of her Italian mother. They were opposites in temperament as well as looks—because if she was noted for her even temper then Maggie was renowned for her fiery one!
‘Typical! I might have known you’d miss it!’ Maggie declared, stepping into a pair of blue cotton uniform pants. ‘Anyway, it has to be the same guy—tall, good-looking, extremely good-looking, in fact, all sort of mean and moody, if you know what I mean?’
Meg raised her brows. ‘Mean and moody? I don’t know if that’s how I would have described him, although, on second thoughts, maybe you’re right.’
She pulled a blue cotton V-necked top over her head and smoothed it down her slim hips. ‘He certainly didn’t come across as all that welcoming when I spoke to him this morning. In fact, I got the distinct impression that Dr Trent had reservations about asking me to go on this trip.’
‘Really?’ Maggie was brushing her hair but she stopped to stare at Meg. ‘Why do you say that? I mean, you’ve loads of experience thanks to working on the surgical wards and, from what I heard him saying last night, surgery is going to play a major part on this trip. Isn’t he some sort of eye specialist?’
‘That’s right. Evidently, he works at St Augustine’s as well as being a director of the aid agency. He’s head of the ophthalmology unit there. I believe he also spends a lot of his time lecturing, both here and abroad.’
‘Busy man from the sound of it. Must make it difficult for him to find time for a private life.’ Maggie twisted her hair into a knot and pinned it in place. ‘Pity! He looked rather a dish to me, but you can’t go by appearances, can you? You tell him where to get off, Meg, if he tries giving you a hard time. To my mind, he’s lucky to have got you!’
Meg laughed as she slid her feet into a pair of comfortable rubber-soled clogs. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence! Can I have it in writing, please, just in case I need it in the next three months?’
‘You aren’t really worried that you might?’ Maggie had been heading out of the staffroom door but she paused to look worriedly at her friend. Meg shrugged, feigning a nonchalance she wished she felt as she slipped past her friend and hurried towards the ward.
‘Not really,’ she fibbed, pushing open the swing doors and smiling at Mrs Watkins who was in the first bed. ‘As you say, I’ll soon put Jack Trent in his place.’
‘Attagirl! Good morning, Mrs Watkins. How are you today?’ Maggie asked as they both automatically stopped beside the middle-aged woman’s bed. Joan Watkins loved to chat, and all the staff made a point of stopping to have a word with her whenever they could spare the time. A widow whose grown-up children lived abroad, she had few visitors to break the monotony of her day.
She had been admitted as an emergency case, suffering