She bit back a chuckle as she glanced down at the misshapen black T-shirt—a cast-off from her brother—that she was wearing with jeans which had holes in both knees, and mentally compared it with what Jack Trent had been wearing the one and only time they’d met. He’d been resplendent in a severely cut black suit and pristine white shirt, a soberly patterned tie adding the finishing touch to the picture of professionalism he’d presented.
The fact that the clothes had suited his austerely handsome looks had been more by accident than design, Meg suspected. Jack Trent certainly hadn’t struck her as a man who worried about his image, although admittedly he’d left a lasting impression on her. More than once in the months since that interview she’d found herself bringing him to mind, as she was doing now.
Meg cleared her throat, not sure why the realisation made her feel so uneasy. ‘I see. I take it that background information on the state is rather limited in that case?’
‘I’m afraid so. However, I can let you have what information I’ve managed to get hold of if you’re interested?’
His tone implied that he couldn’t imagine why she should be, and Meg bridled, mentally and physically. Of course she was interested! She was going to be working in the country, wasn’t she?
‘That would be a great help,’ she replied, trying to keep the bite out of her voice. ‘I would prefer not to go there without knowing anything at all about the people and their culture. It would make for a bad start to my mind.’
‘You’re quite right.’ Jack Trent’s tone had softened slightly and Meg bit her lip as she heard the mellifluous tones flowing down the line. She’d never realised before what a beautiful voice he had, although it was hardly surprising when up till now he’d only ever used that impersonal tone when speaking to her. It was an effort to concentrate as he continued.
‘When you’re working overseas you must always take account of local cultural practices. It’s vital that we don’t try to impose our views on the people we are treating as it can be extremely detrimental at the end of the day. The last thing we want to do is to end up alienating those we are trying to help.’
‘I agree. I imagine it can be tempting to try to dictate how things should be done, but you must have to remind yourself constantly that what is acceptable in Britain might be totally unacceptable in another culture,’ Meg replied firmly.
‘Exactly. I’m pleased you understand that.’
Pleased and surprised? Meg frowned as she wondered if she’d imagined that edge in Jack Trent’s voice. She didn’t think so. He had been surprised by her correct assessment of the situation, and her heart sank as she found herself wondering if he was one of those doctors who didn’t hold nurses in very high esteem.
She had worked with a few doctors like that in her time, men mainly, who believed that all a nurse was good for was to carry out their instructions. The idea that a nurse could be an intelligent, thinking professional in her own right was beyond them. However, if Jack Trent was of that ilk then she would make sure that he soon changed his ideas. She was nobody’s handmaiden, neither was her only role in life to be at his beck and call!
‘Oh, I assure you there won’t be any problems in that area, Dr Trent,’ she replied coolly. ‘I’m well aware of the pitfalls of working in a developing country and intend to avoid them.’
‘Really?’ He sounded amused now, although Meg found herself unable to share the joke when she sensed it was at her expense.
‘Yes, really,’ she repeated firmly, feeling her temper move a notch up the scale, which in itself was a rare occurrence. Her good temper and patience were legendary in Dalverston General, her ability to rise above the trivial everyday annoyances which came with the job one of her strengths. It surprised her that Jack Trent had managed to get under her skin to such an extent.
She took a steadying breath, deliberately wiping all traces of emotion from her voice as she continued, ‘I know that I don’t have any hands-on experience of working overseas yet, but I’ve given this enough thought to feel fairly confident that I’ll avoid the more obvious mistakes.’
‘I’m sure you have given it some thought. However, you may find that any preconceived ideas you have will be totally at odds with what the reality of working in a developing country is like.’ His tone was once more impersonal. ‘I suggest that you wait until you get there before formulating your ideas, Ms Andrews. That way you won’t be either disappointed or shocked by what you find.’
‘Meaning what exactly, Dr Trent? That I don’t understand that we shall be working under extreme conditions? That I’m not prepared for the ugliness of poverty and disease?’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Or that I have some romantic notion about going to Africa to play the ministering angel?’
‘I meant exactly what I said, that it would be wiser to wait until you get there before deciding on the best approach to the job.’
There was no hint of annoyance in his voice, Meg noted, biting back the sharp retort that sprang to her lips. If he’d picked up on her irritation then he certainly hadn’t taken any notice of it!
She took a deep breath before she spoke, realising that it would be foolish to promote a confrontation at this stage in their relationship. It certainly wouldn’t help to improve Jack Trent’s opinion of her, that was for sure.
‘I shall bear that in mind, Dr Trent,’ she replied coolly. ‘I’m very much aware that I’m the newcomer to the team so I shall be happy to follow your advice.’
‘Good. I’m glad to hear it. One of the things I must stress, Ms Andrews, is that we all work very closely when we are overseas. Teamwork is all important and there’s no time to pander to anyone’s ego.’
His tone was authoritative. Meg could picture him sitting behind his desk, his dark grey eyes full of that self-assurance which had been so evident at her interview as he’d set about making sure that she’d understood the ground rules. Where work was concerned, Jack Trent wasn’t prepared to compromise but, then, she sensed that he wouldn’t be prepared to do so in other areas of his life either…
Meg cut short that thought because there was absolutely no basis for thinking it. She knew nothing about the wretched man’s personal life, neither did she want to! All she wanted was to be part of the team and be given the chance to put her skills to good use.
‘I don’t have any difficulty with that concept, Dr Trent. And I assure you that I’m well used to working as part of a team. However, to go back to what you were saying about Oncamba, is it possible that you could let me have whatever information is available before we leave?’
‘Certainly. As time is at a premium I suggest that I fax the details to where you work. I take it that won’t cause any problems?’ he suggested levelly.
‘Not at all. Everyone at Dalverston General has been extremely supportive about me joining the agency. The management and the board of trustees have assured me that my job isn’t at risk and that I shall be granted leave of absence whenever I’m asked to go overseas,’ Meg assured him. ‘If you could fax the information through to Roger Hopkins, the hospital manager, he will make sure I get it. I think I gave you the phone number at my interview.’
‘You did. I have it here.’ There was a rustle of papers before Jack Trent said, ‘So, if you’re absolutely certain that you’ll be ready in time to come, that’s just about it. I take it that your jabs are up to date and that you have a current passport?’
‘Of course,’ Meg replied stiffly, wondering if he thought her a complete idiot. Naturally, she’d wasted no time in having all the necessary inoculations as soon as she’d learned that she’d been accepted by the agency…unless he was looking for a reason not to let her go with him even at this late stage?
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