Was it just the length of time since they’d seen each other that was making things so awkward between them, or was Keanu still brooding over whatever had happened to make him stop writing to her? Even stop reading her letters …
‘Bother the man,’ she muttered to herself, climbing the steps and wandering through the house towards her bedroom.
Her bedroom. Still decorated with the posters of the idols of her teenage self.
Of course, with Ian gone, she could have the pick of any of the six bedrooms in the house, but her room felt like home, even if home was an empty and lonely place without Keanu in it. Helen and Keanu. Their rooms had been in the western annexe, but the whole house had been her and Keanu’s playground—the whole island, in fact.
Stupid tears pricked behind her eyelids as memories of their youth together—their friendship and closeness—threatened to overwhelm her.
Pulling herself together, she ripped the posters off the walls. One day soon—when she’d done the things she really needed to do, like visit the mine, she’d find some paint and redo the room, maybe redecorate the whole house, removing all traces of the past.
Except in your head, a traitorous voice reminded her.
But she’d had enough of traitorous voices—hadn’t one lived with her through most of her relationship with Steve?
She’d learned to ignore it and could do so again.
Although, with Steve, maybe she’d have been better off listening to it. Listening to the whisper that had questioned his protestations of love, listened to the niggling murmur that had questioned broken dates with facile excuses, listened to her friends …
Had she been so desperate for love, for someone to love her, that she’d ignored all the signs and warnings?
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, get with it, girl!’ she said out loud, hoping to jolt herself from the past to the present.
There was certainly enough to be done in the present to blot out any voices in her head.
Work was the answer. Nursing at the hospital, and during her time off finding out exactly what had been happening on the island.
THE PREVIOUS EVENING Hettie had disappeared by the time Caroline had finished talking to Jack, so she wasn’t sure if she was employed or not. Deciding she had to find out, she walked down to the hospital at seven-thirty the next morning.
It was already hot and the humidity was rising. Jack’s mention of cyclones had reminded her that this wasn’t the best time of the year to return to the island—although she’d spent many long summer holidays here and survived whatever the weather had thrown at her.
Hettie was in a side ward with the patient she’d brought in the previous evening, and it was, Caroline decided, almost inevitable that Keanu would be with her as she examined the wound.
‘Will you have to cut away the ulcerated tissue?’ she asked, walking to the other side of the bed and peering at the ulcer herself.
Hettie looked up, beautiful green eyes focussing on Caroline.
Focussing so intently Caroline found herself offering a shrug that wasn’t exactly an apology for speaking but very nearly.
‘I came down to see if you had work for me to do—a slot in the roster perhaps, or some use you could put me to?’
Hettie was still eyeing her warily, or maybe that was just her everyday look. She was neat—a slim figure, jeans and a white shirt, long dark hair controlled in a perfect roll at the back of her head—and attractive in a way that made Caroline think she’d be beautiful if she smiled.
‘What do you know about Buruli ulcers?’ Hettie asked, and, breathing silent thanks for the instinct that had made her look them up on the internet, Caroline rattled off what she’d learned.
Then, aware that the internet wasn’t always right, she added, ‘But that’s just what Mr Google told me. I haven’t had any experience of them.’
To her surprise, Hettie smiled and Caroline saw that she was beautiful—that quiet, unexpected kind of beauty that was rare enough to sometimes go unnoticed.
‘You’ll do,’ Hettie said. ‘Welcome aboard. It’s hard to work to rosters here, but there’s always work. Maddie, one of our FIFO doctors, usually does the checks on the miners but she didn’t come in and the checks are due—or slightly overdue. You’d know the mine, wouldn’t you? Perhaps you and Keanu could do that today?’
Excitement fizzed in Caroline’s head—the perfect excuse to go down to the mine.
‘What kind of checks do we do?’ she asked Hettie, ignoring Keanu, who was arguing that she was too new in the job to be going down to the mine.
‘Just general health. They tend to ignore cuts and scratches, although they know they can become infected or even ulcerated. And we’ve got a couple of workers—you’ll see their notes on the cards—who we suspect have chest problems and aren’t really suited to working underground. But you know men, they’re a stubborn lot and will argue until they’re blue in the face that they haven’t any problems with their lungs.’
‘Stubborn patients I do understand,’ Carolyn said, smiling inwardly as she wondered if seemingly prim and proper Hettie had experienced many run-ins with stubborn men in her own life. She certainly seemed to have some strong opinions when it came to men in general.
‘As a matter of course,’ Hettie continued, ‘we check the lung capacity of all the men and keep notes, and those two aren’t so bad we can order them out of the mine. Yet. The hospital is, in part, funded by the Australian government, and the health checks at the mine are a Workplace Health and Safety requirement.’
‘More paperwork for Sam,’ Caroline said, and Hettie smiled again.
‘He does hate it,’ she agreed before turning to Keanu. ‘You’re not tied up, so you can take Caroline down there. You can show her where all the paperwork is kept, and the drugs cabinet we have down there.’
‘If Ian didn’t pinch it when he left,’ Keanu muttered, but Caroline couldn’t help feeling how lucky they were, to both have this excuse to visit the mine.
And although more time with Keanu was hardly ideal, this was work, and all she had to do was concentrate on that.
If she was gathering whatever impressions she could of what was happening at the mine she’d hardly be aware Keanu was there.
Hardly.
Stick to business!
‘So, who do you think will be in charge of the mine now Ian’s gone?’ she asked Keanu as they took the path around the house that led to the steps down to the mine.
He stopped, turning around to take her hand to help her over a rough part of the track where the stone steps had broken away.
‘Ian’s never really been hands-on, leaving the shift bosses to run the teams. Reuben Alaki is one of the best,’ he said, speaking so calmly she knew he couldn’t possibly be feeling all the physical reactions to the touch that were surging through her.
‘I remember Reuben,’ she managed to say, hoping she sounded as calm as he had, although she was certain there’d been a quiver in her voice. ‘His wife died and he had to bring his little boy to work and your mother looked after him. We treated him like a pet dog or cat and he followed us everywhere.’
Fortunately for her sanity the rough bit of track was behind them, and Keanu had released her hand.
‘That’s him, although that little boy is grown up and is over in Australia,