Touched By Angels. Jennifer Taylor
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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 from an obstruction of the colon. A temporary colostomy had been performed until she was well enough to have the blocked section removed, and all the staff had been impressed by her cheerfulness and positive attitude. Now she looked curiously at Meg.
‘Morning, girls. Who were you talking about just now? Your boyfriend, was it, love? Is he giving you a hard time, then?’
Meg chuckled wryly. ‘No, he isn’t my boyfriend! He’s someone I’m going to be working with for the next few months.’ She quickly filled Joan in on the details of her trip, smiling when the woman shuddered.
‘Oh, I don’t think I’d fancy doing that! You never know what you’ll catch, going to those sorts of places. What made you decide to apply for the job? Don’t you enjoy working here?’
‘I love it,’ Meg replied sincerely. ‘Both the work and the people I work with. I just feel that I want to try something different, use my skills to help people who so desperately need helping, and this seems the ideal way to go about it. I can work overseas for the aid agency, knowing that I still have my job here to come back to.’
‘But how about your young man—what does he think about you going to a place like that? I bet he doesn’t like the idea,’ Joan persisted, obviously not convinced it was the right thing to do.
‘I don’t have a ‘‘young man’’. Or an old one for that matter!’ Meg laughed. ‘I’m fancy-free at the moment and can do whatever I like. That’s another reason why the time is right for me to take on a job like this. I don’t have commitments at present but all that could change in a couple of years’ time. I couldn’t imagine leaving behind a husband and family while I flew off to the other side of the world to work.’
‘Well, I expect you know what you’re doing,’ Joan conceded reluctantly. ‘So when do you leave?’
‘Thursday evening,’ Meg replied, lifting Joan’s chart off the end of her bed and glancing through it.
‘And are they giving you a send-off, then?’ Joan turned to Maggie. ‘Surely you’ve got something planned to mark the occasion?’
‘We hadn’t but we soon will have! Great idea, Mrs Watkins. Why didn’t I think of it?’ Maggie shook her head as Meg opened her mouth. ‘Don’t waste your breath. I’m going to give you a send-off to remember!’
Meg groaned. ‘Why do I have the feeling that I am going to regret this?’
She did regret it! On the way to the airport late Thursday afternoon, Meg couldn’t think of anything she regretted more, in fact. She’d had only a few hours’ sleep the night before and she felt completely exhausted. Between getting ready for the trip, finishing her decorating and working till eleven the previous night it had been a hectic couple of days.
Even when she’d finished work the previous night, that hadn’t been the end of it. Maggie had rounded up a bunch of their friends and had dragged everyone off to a nightclub where she’d insisted that Meg have a glass of sparkling wine to toast her departure.
After a couple of hectic hours of dancing, Meg had pleaded tiredness as her excuse to leave, only everyone had suddenly decided that a curry would be the perfect ending to the night. Unfortunately, it seemed in imminent danger of making its reappearance so she was thankful when the taxi pulled up outside the departure terminal. Hopefully, a breath of fresh air would make her feel better…
‘Where the hell have you been? I thought I told you to be here well before we were due to fly out?’
Maybe he hadn’t really shouted but to Meg’s sensitive ears it certainly felt as though he had. She turned slowly around and stared at Jack Trent, noting almost idly how angry he looked. Why? Because she’d turned up only five minutes before the alloted time? Or because she’d turned up at all?
‘It is five minutes to four, Dr Trent,’ she said as coolly as she could, because that last thought had stung. ‘I wouldn’t have thought there was any cause for concern just yet.’
‘Wouldn’t you indeed? Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Ms Andrews. As it happens, our flight has been brought forward and we’re due to leave in less than an hour’s time. So, if you wouldn’t mind getting yourself inside, we can check in your luggage.’
He turned to walk inside the building but Meg stopped him by dint of a well-placed hand on his arm. Her fingers closed around the hard biceps and even though she was annoyed she couldn’t help noticing just how very hard it was. That Jack Trent was in superb physical condition couldn’t be disputed. However, his attitude left a lot to be desired!
He swung round to stare at her, his cold grey eyes dropping deliberately to where her hand was still attached to his arm. However, Meg refused to release him until she was good and ready. She certainly didn’t intend to let him think she was afraid of him!
‘What have you got against me, Dr Trent? It’s obvious that you aren’t one hundred per cent happy about me coming on this trip, and I think I deserve to know why, don’t you?’
She was quite pleased with the tone of her voice which had sounded both firm and nicely controlled to her ears. However, if Jack Trent was impressed he gave little sign. His mouth curled into what could only be classed as a sneer as he took stock of her tired face.
‘In that case, Ms Andrews, I may as well be honest and say that I was against you being hired. If it had been left solely to me then you would never have been taken on by the agency in the first place.’
The bluntness of that statement cleared her head more effectively than anything else could have done. Meg stared at him in consternation. ‘Why not? You saw my references and I know for a fact that they were excellent. I also have several years’ experience on one of the most demanding wards in the hospital, so how can you say that?’
‘Because it’s the truth.’ He gave a sharp downward thrust of his hand when she went to speak. It had the added effect of dislodging her hand. Meg let it fall to her side as she stared at him with troubled blue eyes that reflected her hurt and confusion.
He looked away and there was an odd note in his voice all of a sudden, almost as though he might have regretted speaking so bluntly. However, there was no softening to his attitude, Meg realised sickly when he continued.
‘I don’t believe that you will cope, Ms Andrews. That’s it in a nutshell. It makes no difference how good your references are or how much experience you have—I just don’t think that you will be able to handle this kind of work. It is a whole different ball game, working overseas, compared to where you’ve worked in the past.’
‘I know that! I understand that we’ll be working under less than ideal conditions if that’s what you’re concerned about.’
‘I don’t think anyone can truly understand what the conditions will be like until they’ve experienced them at first hand,’ he stated coldly. ‘Oh, I expect you’ve seen TV coverage of aid work but that’s sanitised for the viewers’ consumption. Actually, dealing with all the hardships and unpleasantness is an entirely different matter, believe me.’
‘I do believe you! I know that I have a lot to learn but I’m willing to try. Why can’t you