LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

the hot African sun. She had a soft caramel tan and her blue eyes were steely and determined. The set of her jaw showed she meant business and wouldn’t take any crap from anyone.

      He knew he had to make it up to her. Make up for all the years of hurt and anger she must have carried inside because of him.

      Tasha Kincaid—once Natasha Drummond—had certainly grown up. The puppy fat of youth had disappeared with the braces and she’d emerged as a beautiful young woman. A gazelle—long-limbed and graceful. He’d seen the possibility in her back then. But kids were kids and anyone different—fat, bespectacled, red-haired—was an object for their attempts at humour.

      He vowed that he would show her the way a woman deserved to be treated. That he would be charming, caring and kind. He would build her up and replace her harsh memories of him with something more wonderful.

      He hoped he could do that.

      He’d originally asked her to go with him to introduce them to Ada and the villagers because he’d wanted to spend more time with this enigmatic woman who knew his name and somehow seemed familiar.

      He didn’t regret asking her. Because now he knew it was important that she came with them. Because he needed more time with her.

      Time to put things right.

      * * *

      Before Quinn’s humiliation of her they’d once gone on a trip together. Years ago—when they were children and Tasha’s home had organised a visit to the zoo. Everyone had gone along, and somehow Dexter had wangled a place for Quinn on the bus.

      The boys had sat at the back, loud and vocal, but Tasha had been at the front, very aware that Quinn was there.

      She’d worn her best dress—a pale blue number, with tiny daisies on it—white ankle socks and scuffed patent leather shoes. Hours had been spent in front of the mirror, trying to tame her hair, but the more she’d combed it the frizzier the curls had become, so in the end she’d tied it back with a red bow, wanting to look her best for Quinn. She’d practised her smile in front of the mirror before they left, trying to work out the best way to do it so her braces didn’t show too much.

      She’d said hi to him when he’d arrived in the morning, barely getting a nod of acknowledgement in return, but that hadn’t mattered. She’d offered him a drink and fetched him a glass of juice from the kitchen. He’d taken it, smiled at her and said, ‘Thanks, Nit-Nat.’

      Her little teenage heart had almost exploded with excitement. This dashing, handsome, blond-haired young stud had smiled at her! Said her name!

      And then he’d said, ‘You look nice today.’

      It was the only thing he’d got to say to her before they’d left but she’d dined out on that compliment for days. It had warmed her. Had made her feel good. All gooey inside and yet shy. He’d liked her dress. Liked what she’d done to her hair. She vowed to do her hair like that all the time if he liked it that way.

      She’d wanted to turn and smile at him on the bus but she hadn’t, knowing that Dexter would wind her up about it, so she’d spent the trip staring out of the window, intently listening to everything she could—hoping that he might be talking about her in a nice way.

      He never had been.

      Her day had been spent half looking at the giraffes and the wolves and the lions and monkeys, and half sneaking glances at Quinn and having little hopeful dreams about their future together. She’d wished she had a camera, so she could take his picture and put it in her bedroom.

      He’d wanted to be a doctor and so had she. She’d imagined them working together at the same hospital. They would save lives! He would look at her after a long day together and thank her, and give her a hug, and then they would go home together, because of course they would be married. And at home it would be even more blissful than at work. She would have beautiful little blonde-haired children, with big blue eyes, and they would take them with them on their many trips around the globe.

      None of that had ever happened, of course.

      But here they were today. Together again. In Africa. Hopefully off to save some lives.

      Maybe all she’d ever needed to do was wait?

      * * *

      It didn’t take him long to inform the personnel on the ship of what they were doing. The staff seemed excited about the idea of a road trip, and as they busied themselves in preparation for a possible mass vaccination Tasha found a moment to check on Abeje.

      She was asleep. Sweat beaded her brow and pooled in the dip at the base of her throat. Her breathing was rapid.

      Tasha laid a hand against the little girl’s skin and winced at the heat. Poor thing. She let out a breath and took a moment to centre herself. She could remember being poorly as a young child herself, with no one to sit by her bed, to soothe her brow or just to give her cuddles and goodnight kisses. It had been so lonely.

      Quinn knew who she was now. It was an even playing field. And, though she’d been worried about telling him who she was, now that it was out in the open she felt glad. He had a lot of making up to do if he was ever going to be in her good books again. He’d apologised, but that was too little, too late.

      You should never have hurt me in the first place.

      He deserved to spend some time wriggling on the end of her hook. She knew she ought to be gracious and allow him to show her who he was now. They had both been children. But...

      He’d always said he was going to be a doctor. Always said he was going to travel the world. And here he was, doing just that. She liked it that he had stuck to his grand plan and was doing something worthwhile and noble. It showed her he wasn’t still that cruel teenage boy he had once been. That there was more to him now.

      It would have been so easy for him to have stayed working in a hospital in the UK, with modern equipment and civilisation and technology all around him, but no. He had come out here. To treat the needy, to give aid to those who had none.

      That was a good thing to do, wasn’t it? Heroic?

      So you get some Brownie points, Quinn. I get that you’re not all bad.

      Tasha reached for Abeje’s hand as a nurse, Rowan, came up to her.

      ‘She’s doing okay. I know it looks like nothing is happening, but we have to wait for the medications to work.’

      Her Irish accent was lilting and musical. Even reassuring in a homely way.

      ‘How long should that take?’

      ‘It depends how long she’d been sick for, before we got the meds on board. The parasite she has in her system is quite an aggressive one.’

      ‘It could kill her.’ It wasn’t a question. Tasha knew the risks of this parasite.

      ‘We need to hope for the best.’

      Rowan was not saying yes or no. Not promising that everything would be all right.

      Tasha knew how to do that. She’d done it herself. But she’d never realised just how frustrating it sounded when she was on the receiving end of it. When you were worried sick about someone you needed someone in charge to tell you it would be okay. That they wouldn’t die. This vagueness, the non-promise, was devastating, but as a doctor she’d always assumed her vague answer would be comforting. Would give hope.

      ‘Will you keep an eye on her whilst I’m gone?’ she asked Rowan.

      ‘Of course. There won’t be any change for a while, so it’s probably best that you’re out there doing something else. It’ll help keep your mind off it.’

      Tasha wasn’t sure that was true. She was hardly going to forget Abeje. The little girl was almost like a daughter. Not that she’d ever had one. But she definitely wanted children some day, and this was how she imagined it to be—worrying constantly. Fearing for their wellbeing.

      ‘You’ll

Скачать книгу