‘But…’ Fern looked doubtfully down at her sleeping aunt.
‘Maud’s growing stronger by the minute,’ Quinn assured her. ‘You must be able to feel it yourself.’ He flicked a switch above the bed and a soft, dim light shone across Maud’s face. It wasn’t enough to disturb Maud’s deep sleep but it showed them both her improving colour. ‘Now, through those French windows is the verandah and it’s a lovely night. I’ll bring tea round there and we’ll leave the windows open and be able to watch Maud while we drink it.’
‘But…won’t we disturb S…Mr Reid?’
‘You mean, won’t your Sam hear us and demand to know what the heck’s going on?’ Quinn’s teeth flashed with laughter as he shook his head. ‘Their window’s round the corner and your Sam insisted it be closed because he’s allergic to draughts or some such nonsense. Which leaves us alone. An assignation with an engaged woman in the wee small hours…What could be better? What a pity I didn’t put the champagne on ice…’
‘But…’
‘No more buts.’ Quinn Gallagher put a finger on her lips and pressed her mouth firmly closed. ‘Meet me in five minutes below the window,’ he grinned. ‘Should I bring my ladder-or will you let down your hair?’
Despite herself, Fern heard herself give a low chuckle in response. This man was ridiculous.
This man was dangerous.
The thought flashed through her mind with the clarity of white light. It almost made her gasp.
‘No. I…’
It was too late. Quinn was already striding toward the door, his back turned to her.
‘Five minutes,’ he said over his shoulder as he reached the door. Five minutes to your date with doom…
This was ridiculous.
Fern pushed back the bedclothes completely and checked Maud once again. Her check was unnecessary. Quinn’s examination two minutes before had been thorough enough.
She didn’t want to sit on the verandah and drink tea with this unknown doctor. Why on earth should she?
Because she badly wanted a drink and she also wanted to stretch her legs. It made sense.
So?
‘So have a cup of tea with the man,’ she muttered angrily to herself. ‘It hardly means anything.’
If it hardly meant anything, why were her knees like jelly?
There was no need for her knees to shake.
The tea on the verandah was innocent in the extreme. Fern and Quinn sat in comfortable cane chairs, a wicker table between them, and sipped tea as if it was midafternoon and Fern was paying a social call
It was ridiculous.
It was also a great way to break the tension.
Over her teacup Fern caught Quinn’s eye and her mouth twitched into laughter.
His eyes laughed right back.
‘I’m sorry I can’t offer you a cucumber sandwich,’ he grinned. ‘The maid’s off duty.’
‘It’s a lack,’ Fern said sadly, ‘but I can make do.’
‘I thought of wearing a frilly apron and starched cap myself.’ Quinn’s mournful tone exactly matched hers. ‘But try as I might I can’t convince myself that frills become me. I make a much better butler. If you’d like to go round to the front door and ring the bell I’ll show you my true butling style. Mind, at three in the morning I’ll probably ask icily for your calling card and see you off the premises.’
Fern choked.
There was silence again but this time the silence was comfortable. Something was fitting round Fern like a lovely, comforting cloak.
Something that she’d never felt before…
She finished her tea slowly, glancing back into Maud’s room every few moments as she sipped. Finally, reluctantly, she finished her cup, placing it back on the wicker table, and rose.
Strangely she was loath to move. This night was her wedding night-and she was on the verandah of another man’s house feeling that here was someone who…
Stop it, Fern! Stop it!
What was her errant mind thinking? She was crazy!
‘Thank you…Thank you for the tea,’ she said stiffly. ‘I should go back in…’
And then she stopped as something wet and cold touched her ankle.
Fern stepped back in surprise and looked down.
She was wearing sandals and her ankles were exposed. Nuzzling the bare skin above her feet was a tiny wallaby, only half-grown.
‘For heaven’s sake…’
Fern knelt down. The tiny creature showed not the least fear. He transferred his nose to Fern’s hand and nuzzled these strange new smells with equal interest.
‘Where did you come from?’ Fern asked with delight. She looked up at Quinn. ‘Is he a pet?’
‘No.’ Quinn was smiling down at her, the warmth in his eyes directed at Fern rather than the wallaby. He leaned over and scooped up the little creature. ‘This is one of Jessie’s babies and he’s getting very bold in his old age.’
‘Old age!’
‘He’s been here four months. He’s practically a grown-up now.’
Quinn walked over to the edge of the verandah. Hanging from the rail was a wide woollen pouch which looked very like a sweater with the neck and arms sewn up. It was looped over the verandah rail at such a position that the tiny wallaby could jump in or out whenever he chose.
Quinn tucked the little creature inside. The joey squirmed in a wriggling mass of heaving sweater and gangly limbs-and then his eyes peeped out once
‘It’s too early to sleep,’ his eyes seemed to be saying. ‘If you two are chatting, why can’t I?’
Quinn grinned and with two fingers gently pushed the damp little nose down. Like a jack in the box, the nose sprang straight back up.
‘He’s starting to guess he’s a nocturnal animal,’ Quinn smiled. ‘Someone brought him to Jess after they hit his mum with a car. She’s been hand-feeding him-but she’s started putting him out here at night so he can get used to a bit of night grazing.’
‘Jess…’ Fern frowned. ‘Jess lives here?’
‘Sure.’ Quinn gestured to the huge house behind them. ‘This place is enormous. Jess has taken over the east wing for her animals, and the west wing’s for humans. It works well-apart from the odd escape. Even then, the sight of a baby wallaby or an echidna waddling down the corridors only seems to keep my patients stirred.’
‘I don’t know what the Health Commission would say about that,’ Fern said doubtfully, and Quinn grinned again.
‘The Health Commission, bless their bureaucratic little hearts, are far, far away and, anyway, if they closed Jess’s and my operations down now they’d have a war on their hands. Barega would declare itself a republic and design its own flag on the spot. Jess and I are providing a better medical service to the island than it’s had in years.’
‘I guess…’
Words died away.
The night was warm around them. The huge, golden moon was a glittering jewel hanging low over the ocean, its soft light casting a tunnel of gold across the distant waves.
It was almost as if it was a path, waiting to be trod.
This was a magic night. Her wedding night…
Fern gave herself a mental shake. The feeling of warmth creeping over her had nothing to do with the fact that it was her wedding night. She looked up at Quinn and found him watching her, the wide, generous mouth twisting into a smile that was half-questioning.
‘What is it, Fern?’ he asked gently, and to her horror she felt the pinprick of tears behind her eyes.
It was just that she was tired. It had to be.
Fern turned deliberately away to look in at Maud. Maud stirred in her sleep and sighed, then settled back into slumber. Maud didn’t need her, thank heaven, but Fern wanted to return to her aunt, for all that. She felt as if there was something inside her that was close to breaking and she didn’t know what.
‘I’ll…I’ll get back to bed,’ she whispered.
‘You can go to sleep safely now,’ Quinn told her. ‘I’ll watch the monitors but I’m sure she’ll be fine.’
‘But when will you sleep?’
‘I sleep on my feet,’ he grinned. ‘I’m trained as an emergency medicine specialist and until last year ran Casualty at St Martin’s in Maybroe. Part of the training is coping with sleep deprivation. If I saw eight hours sleep in a row I wouldn’t know what to do with it.’