FRIDAY MORNING DAWNED bright and clear, after the first really big storm of the rainy season during the night. The clinic’s medical outreach truck had been loaded the night before, and there was only enough time to grab a coffee and a piece of toast before she saw Jaye walk across the compound with Ranjini. They were talking together, her sari bright against his loose white shirt and pale chinos.
He leaned against the door of the truck, still talking, the keys dangling loosely from his hand. In the last few days Megan had learned that he and Ranjini discussed everything, and the easy, friendly way they did it was setting the tone for everyone else. And if jealousy nudged at her heart every time she saw Jaye talking things through with someone else, she could remind herself how hard she’d fought to be just another member of the team in his eyes.
‘Ready to go?’ He and Ranjini had shared a joke, and remnants of its warmth still lingered in his face.
‘Yes, I’m good.’ Megan opened the passenger door before Jaye could move. Today, working alone with him, she had to be on her best behaviour. And just another member of the team.
* * *
It was a special kind of torture. The clinic compound gave Jaye a certain amount of freedom because he knew that he was never truly alone with Megan. But out here, on the empty road, there probably wasn’t another living soul for miles. Today would test all their good resolutions to the limit.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have suggested they do this so soon. But that would be falling short of the task he’d set himself. He was determined to set the clinic to rights, have it running the way that it should, and that included giving Megan the opportunities that had been promised and which, so far, she hadn’t had.
As they wound their way up into the mountains, the track grew muddier, evidence of heavier rain in the last few days. Megan’s head was turned away from him, her gaze glued on the surrounding countryside.
‘You haven’t been up here before?’
‘No, I haven’t. It’s beautiful.’
‘Yes.’ Jaye didn’t want to think about beautiful right now. Not while he was sitting so close to Megan in the cabin of the truck. ‘It can be unforgiving at times.’
‘I imagine so.’ She didn’t turn to look at him. ‘Where are we headed first?’
‘We’ll follow up on Ashan.’ The boy with dengue fever had been released from the clinic the previous day, and Jaye had promised to call in on him and see how he was doing. ‘There are a couple of long-term patients in the same village who I also want to look in on. Landmine victims.’
‘You provide social care, as well as medical care?’ She turned to him suddenly, smiling. ‘I saw in the clinic’s accounts that there were expenses marked “training and development”.’
‘Yes, we do. Although I’m not entirely sure where the line between the two lies.’
‘No, me neither.’ Megan turned her head back towards the window, and Jaye concentrated on the road.
The rest of their journey was made in silence, but when they reached the village Megan seemed suddenly more animated. She followed him from the truck, drinking in everything around her. The clay-brick houses, with thatched roofs extending over porches that were often larger than the houses themselves, providing a living area for each family. The well-tended gardens, and lush vegetation that provided food. The men who approached Jaye to greet him, the women and children standing further back but watching all the same.
When they came to Ashan’s home, Jaye hung back, waiting to see what Megan would do. The boy’s mother welcomed her, and she exchanged a few smiling pleasantries in Sinhalese. The boy was resting in the shade of the porch, and although Megan clearly didn’t understand his chatter, the warmth was obvious. As she nodded and smiled at the boy, her fingers brushed his cheek, checking for any fever.
‘How is he?’ Jaye had been watching, trying not to be entranced by her.
‘I think he said he’s happy to be home. He seems happy to be home.’ Megan looked up at him. ‘Are you taking a look at him?’
‘I thought you might do that.’
‘Will you ask his mother how he’s been?’
Jaye didn’t move. He wanted to see how Megan coped on her own.
Her lips narrowed into a line. Any reaction from Megan, even if it was a frown, felt better than her studied professionalism. He was going to have to be careful.
‘My Sinhalese isn’t good enough. I might miss something she says.’ She picked up the medical bag from where it lay at his feet and flapped her hand at him, chivvying him along. ‘Come on. Pull your weight, Jaye.’
‘This is how you treat your boss?’ He couldn’t help grinning.
‘You asked for it.’
Yes, he had. After the last time he’d pushed her and gone too far, doing it again seemed like a hazardous process, but it seemed to be working out. She was making it work.
He watched out of the corner of his eye, talking to Ashan’s mother, while Megan carefully checked the boy over, taking his blood pressure and listening to his chest. When she’d finished, and packed up the bag, he waited for her verdict.
‘What does his mother say?’ Clearly she wasn’t going to give it until she had all the information.
‘No problems. They’re giving him the medication we sent him home with.’
‘In that case, I’d say he’s doing well. Shall I put him on the list for a follow-up next Friday?’
It probably wasn’t necessary. The people here had all seen dengue fever before and knew when to come to the doctor. But he’d asked her to examine Ashan and she’d decided to err on the side of safety. He shouldn’t second-guess her.
‘Yes. We’ll do that.’
* * *
Another test. Megan was used to being tested in new situations, most people waited until they could get the measure of the new member of staff. Jaye was no different, and if it made Megan nervous, that was her lookout. She pulled the strap of the heavy medical bag across her shoulder, daring him to take it back from her.
Every action, every word had to be thought about. It would get easier. Just as she’d learned to be with him in the compound, she would learn to be with him out here. It was just a matter of practice.
He gave her the history of their second patient on the way to the next house. Then he introduced her to the young woman whose right leg had been amputated by the blast of a landmine, folded his arms and stood back.
This time Jaye seemed determined not to help when Megan’s Sinhalese failed her. The woman had picked up a few words of English, clearly as a result of contact with doctors, since they all seemed to relate to her leg. Gestures and smiles filled the gaps and they got by. Megan satisfied herself that the woman was managing her prosthetic leg well, and that it was causing no blisters or sores, and then moved on to the baby she was nursing, for good measure.
All the time she felt that Jaye’s gaze was boring into her back, assessing and evaluating everything she did. When she turned to leave he asked a question in Sinhalese, which was too rapid for Megan to catch the meaning of. The woman smiled and replied and Jaye laughed. Her husband joined in the conversation, which for some reason seemed to centre around cushions. Then a smiling goodbye.
She laboured up the dirt track with Jaye, struggling a little with the weight of the bag but determined not to give it up to him. In return, he was giving her no quarter and she had to break into a stumbling jog to keep up.
‘Wait… Wait!’ She stopped short, heaving the strap of the medical bag onto the other shoulder.
‘Can I take that?’
It wasn’t an unreasonable offer, and it was entirely expected from Jaye. Megan was surprised he hadn’t tackled her to the ground and wrestled the bag away from her, just to satisfy his own good manners. But now she had it, she wasn’t going to give it up.
‘No. But you can stop a moment and tell me what you were saying to her.’
He shrugged. ‘It was nothing. We were just discussing the work that she does.’
‘Cushions? She makes cushions?’ Megan wanted to let him know that she’d followed at least part of the conversation.
‘Yes. One of my mother’s projects. She imports hand-crafted goods from areas like these and sells them. She’s got a website. And it’s cushion covers, there’s no point in filling up a container full of stuffed cushions when you can perfectly easily pack the covers into a small trunk.’
‘It would have been useful if you’d mentioned it. It’s always good to know what patients do for a living.’
‘In case she suffers from some kind of industrial sewing injury, you mean?’ His lip curled slightly. ‘My mother doesn’t work like that.’
‘I’m sure she doesn’t. But if she’s doing a lot of close work, I might think it was a good idea to have a brief look at her eyes, even if the clinic’s optician visits every six months.’
‘You know about that?’
‘I went through the books to do a couple of reports for Dr Clarke that London was asking for.’
‘Ah. Well, yes, the optician will be visiting. I’ll make a note to check on exactly when.’
They were getting nowhere fast. They had got used to working alongside each other, but that wasn’t enough out here.
‘Jaye, just hold on a minute.’ He’d turned, ready to start walking again, and Megan stopped him. ‘I know what you’re doing, and I appreciate that you’re allowing me to create my own relationships with the people here. But I need you to help me. My Sinhalese isn’t good enough yet, and I’m afraid I’ll miss something.’
‘I can translate anything you ask me to.’
‘I need to…rely on you.’ These were dangerous waters. The last time she’d relied on him, wanting to hear his every word, see his every reaction, it had led them into an intimacy that Megan couldn’t handle.
The look in his eyes told her that he didn’t want to go there either. Maybe he was thinking the same as she was, that the last time they’d acknowledged the special connection that buzzed between them they’d been in each other’s arms. But if they could just move on from that and find it in themselves to harness that connection, who knew what energy they could create? Who knew what they could do?
There was a long silence and then Jaye spoke. ‘Yes. You’re right. We’ll make a good team. Give me the bag.’
‘What?’
‘The bag. Working together, remember?’
‘Oh. Yes.’ She handed the heavy medical bag over, careful not to brush against him as she did so. It was actually quite a relief not to have to carry it any further.
‘Good.’ He smiled at her, and started walking again. Megan stumbled after him.
‘So… Our next patient? What’s the story?’
‘He’s a seven-year-old boy. He lost a hand and the lower part of his arm in another landmine explosion.’
‘Seven years old? I thought that all the landmines had been cleared in this area. Was this one that was left behind?’
‘Yes and no. They’ve all been cleared and this wasn’t one that was left behind. Chaminda was just a baby, in his mother’s arms. His mother stepped on the mine and her body shielded Chaminda from most of the blast. She was killed.’
‘So that means that the family’s not just coping with their son’s injury, they’re doing it without their mother.’
‘Yes. The father usually comes up with a load of questions about his other children as well. He’s naturally very protective, and he worries that he isn’t doing a good job of raising them.’ He grinned. ‘Although this is a village.’
‘And it takes a village to raise a child?’
‘Well, in this case, the village is doing a pretty good job of it. But the father still worries.’
‘I guess he’ll probably have a lot to say to me, then.’
Jaye nodded. ‘Almost certainly. I’ll translate as we go.’
‘What about Chaminda? Have we been doing anything about providing him with a prosthetic hand?’
‘That’s an issue too. We’ve offered one, but since he’s grown up with only one hand, he manages very well without a prosthetic. It’s a delicate balance. The family needs to make their own decisions about that, but we want to keep his options open for the future.’
‘What’s Chaminda been offered? And what are the pros and cons, as you see them?’
* * *
Megan had suggested an audacious solution to a problem that had become increasingly apparent during the course of the morning. A meeting of minds that had been born in the heat of an embrace. Working together, and not just side by side.
But it had worked. She’d examined Chaminda and talked at length with her young patient’s father, Jaye translating for her. They’d both made suggestions, and Jaye felt that they’d made some good progress in helping the family.
It was exhausting, though. Jaye was almost pleased to be able to get back into the truck so that they could both find some refuge in silence.
But the silence didn’t last long. As they rounded a corner, climbing the steep slope that led to the next village, he jammed on the brakes, managing to stop just inches away from the pile of mud and stones across the road.
They both took a moment to catch their breath then Megan glanced towards him.
‘Landslip?’
‘Yes. It’s probably been dislodged by last night’s rain. But don’t worry, this area’s been combed for landmines and the road’s been safe for years.’
‘Then we can just get on and clear it?’
Jaye nodded. They were going to have to make a path through the debris as they couldn’t go around the stones because of the steep slope rising up to the left and falling down to the right of the road.
‘Yes. Shouldn’t be too difficult. I think we can just roll that out of the way…’ He pointed to the right-hand side of the road where a heavy mass of earth, bound together by tree roots, blocked their path.
Jaye got out of the truck and walked across to the boulder. When he set his weight against it and then heaved, the boulder moved three inches and then fell back two.
‘I need you to help me…’ If Megan added her weight to his, the boulder would move. The process might involve touching her, but that couldn’t be helped.
‘Right. Where do you want me?’
There was a good answer to that question. A very good one. Jaye took the second-best option and pointed to the right-hand side of the boulder.
‘Just there. Put your shoulder to it when I say.’
He found a handhold on the side of the boulder and they both pushed. Nothing happened. Jaye leant further in, feeling the warmth of her body, and the boulder slid a couple of feet.
‘Okay, stop a moment.’ He checked again that if the boulder tipped over and rolled down the slope to their right, there would be nothing in its path. The slope levelled out after twenty feet and a pile of rubble was already lodged at the bottom of it.
‘One more try…’
They pushed hard, a cry of effort escaping Megan’s lips. The boulder slid to the edge of the slope and suddenly the handhold that Jaye had found gave way. A sharp pain shot up his arm as his hand caught in a matted tree root, almost dragging his little finger off. His grunt of pain caught Megan’s attention and she whirled around.
‘What…?’ She was off balance, and as the boulder started to roll down the slope, the momentum of her own body carried her after it. At the last moment she threw herself to the ground, trying to stop herself from toppling down the slope.
‘Megan…!’ The pain in his hand was forgotten. Everything was forgotten because although Megan had managed to stop herself from falling, she was sliding over the edge, scrabbling for a hold in the mud. Jaye ran to where she’d been standing, dropping to his knees.