Marrying the Millionaire Doctor. Alison Roberts
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calm rumble.
‘Stella is my daughter, Miss Jackson. I have raised her alone since she was three months old.’ A tiny pause for effect. ‘I don’t think I need anybody telling me how I should be doing it.’
Obviously he did, but the defiant response refused to come out. Susie’s mouth was too dry and she felt alarmingly close to tears herself. It was tempting to turn and run, as Stella had done, but she wasn’t going to.
No way!
A purring noise broke this silence and it came from the small, electrically powered vehicle that chose that moment to arrive. Slow moving and environmentally friendly, these island vehicles had two seats and could tow a small trailer for luggage.
‘Ah…my transport.’ Alex turned away, giving Susie the impression that she was a nuisance that had now been dealt with. He sounded slightly less sure of himself when he focused on the new arrival, however.
‘What in God’s name is that?’
‘Garf,’ Charles told him succinctly. ‘The camp mascot.’
As was often the case, empty space in a cart or trailer had been gleefully occupied by the large, woolly dog.
‘But what is he? I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘Labradoodle. Labrador poodle cross. Hypoallergenic. We had to be careful with pets and avoid anything that could trigger asthma attacks. He’s still on parole as far as close contact with some of the children.’
Garf didn’t know that. He had obviously been waiting for the cart to stop. As soon as it did, he bounced off the seat and loped off in the direction Stella had taken. Susie smiled. Garf had an inbuilt antenna when it came to unhappy children and he was probably the best medicine for Stella right now.
Alex gave a satisfied nod as the dog vanished up the track. ‘I’ll meet you back here in half an hour if that suits,’ he said to Charles. ‘Now, where is Stella’s dormitory?’
Susie opened her mouth and then shut it again as she caught the flicker of Charles’s eyebrow.
‘Let me offer you a nice cold drink,’ he said to Alex. ‘I don’t know about you, but I could do with one.’ He smiled. ‘Don’t forget we’re on island time here. Nobody’s going anywhere and nothing needs to be rushed.’
Diplomatic, Susie conceded. Far more so than she would have been in suggesting that Stella needed some time to herself before seeing her father again.
And Charles was not someone who could be dismissed. He might be in a wheelchair but that did nothing to diminish this man’s presence, and he had the upper hand right now. They were on his patch.
Alex had the grace to concede at least a reprieve. He inclined his head. ‘Wouldn’t say no to a cold beer. I have to admit it’s been rather a long and difficult day already.’
Was that some kind of backhanded apology? Inferring that Susie’s earlier impression might have been valid and his reaction to Stella’s appearance had been the last straw on a stressed camel’s back?
Charles was gracious enough to assume something along those lines. ‘I’ll bet,’ he said sympathetically. ‘Let’s send your luggage off to the resort and we can see what the fridge in my office has to offer.’
‘Lead the way.’
‘We’ll go via the centre if you don’t mind. I need to pop in on Lily.’
‘Lily? Your daughter?’
‘She’s not very well.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Nothing too serious but you know how young children can go down in a heap with a virus. I’m keeping her in the medical centre this afternoon so we can keep a close eye on her.’
The voices of the two men faded as they moved away. The pilot took it as a cue to finish his journey along the jetty.
‘Bloody suit,’ he muttered. ‘Thinks he’s God’s gift, doesn’t he? You OK, Susie?’
‘I’m fine, thanks, Wayne.’
‘Poor kid.’
‘Hmm. I might just go and see where she is.’
‘You do that.’ Wayne hefted the smart black suitcase onto the back of the electric cart and greeted the driver. ‘There’s a couple of dead birds floating under the jetty, mate. Those noisy shearwater things. Someone might need to do something before they wash up on the beach or the kids go swimming or something.’
The driver unhooked a radio from the dashboard. ‘I’ll call it in but I think the rangers are still out with the kids on some forest trek.’
The rainforest buggy ride was actually over, Susie realised as she walked back towards the camp facilities. Already groups of children and their parents or carers were heading to the beach for a late-afternoon swim. She waved at Benita Green, a nurse with a small group of her cancer patients in tow, and then found herself returning the wide grin of little Danny, who was still completely bald from his chemo.
It was hard to stay angry in this environment. Hopefully Stella had found a private spot and the island was working a similar magic on her. Or would she be angry at Susie for orchestrating the confrontation, albeit unwittingly? More likely, she was simply feeling utterly miserable.
Unloved and unlovable.
Where would she have gone?
Not to the dormitory with the others returning and racing in to get their togs and towels. The older ones would be looking forward to the disco this evening and probably discussing it, and that would certainly rub salt into Stella’s wounds.
Would she have gone to the cabin Susie had been allocated because she was staying for the opening ceremony tomorrow and the gala dinner the five-star resort restaurant was hosting later? Stella knew the location because that was where they’d excitedly taken the purchases of new clothes and make-up for the styling session that afternoon. But she also knew that Susie was going to be sharing the cabin with other staff from the base hospital. She would hardly want to explain herself to strangers if they had already arrived.
No. Susie turned off the wide track that led from the beach, one fork going to the camp dormitories, dining hall and activity rooms, the other leading to the newly built eco-cabins in the rainforest. She doubled back towards the beach on a much smaller track, confident she knew one of the best thinking spots around.
Sure enough, hidden between the overturned timber hulls of a couple of ancient dinghies, Stella was sitting. A hunched figure scraping a meaningless pattern in the sand with a piece of driftwood, oblivious to the view of the ocean and small islands that advertised their presence in paradise. Beside her, with big brown eyes peering anxiously beneath golden dreadlocks, sat Garf. Close enough to cuddle but respectfully keeping his distance for now. The dog seemed, in fact, to be enjoying the view Stella was ignoring.
Susie slid down the side of a dinghy to a squat rather than a sitting position, being as careful as Garf not to intrude too forcefully into Stella’s space. She couldn’t assume she was welcome. Maybe it was only on her side that the relationship had become so much more than that of therapist and patient.
‘Hey,’ she said gently. ‘You OK, hon?’
The only answer was a sullen sniff.
Susie picked up a handful of the fine white sand and let it drift through her fingers. ‘Dr Wetherby’s taken your dad off to see the medical centre. He thought you might want a bit of time to yourself.’
‘I do. Go away.’
‘I think your dad’s had a stressful day getting here,’ Susie offered. ‘He got a bit of a shock seeing you all dressed up, that’s all. He’ll get over it.’
‘No,