LITMIR.BIZ

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intact?’

      ‘Appears to be. It’s over there if you want to check.’ Joan nodded towards a covered basin on the trolley. Hugo reached for a pair of gloves as Henry began drumming his small heels against his grandmother’s legs.

      ‘Wanna get down.’

      If Hugo had been a little quicker he might have rescued the basin before Henry tripped and fell against the trolley, which tipped over with a resounding crash. The small boy howled with fright, his new sister took up the cry and the rest of the family looked alarmed. Joan’s smile was tight. She picked up the toddler and deposited him firmly onto the chair beside the bed.

      ‘Sit on this chair, Henry. And don’t move!’ She leaned down. ‘If you’re a good boy and stop crying right now, I’ll see if I can find you an ice block.’

      Henry hiccuped as the sobs subsided. Hugo scooped up the mess on the floor, silently applauding Joan’s ability to deal with small children. It was disturbing to find he was now looking forward to leaving work so eagerly but there was just so much a man could take in one day. Grandma took Henry home, Hugo stitched up Nicola’s tear and Joan took the baby to the nursery to clean her up. Hugo joined her and pronounced the baby fit and healthy after a thorough paediatric check. He watched as Joan expertly applied a tiny disposable nappy and then swaddled the tiny girl in a soft cotton blanket.

      ‘You make that look so easy.’

      ‘It is easy.’ Joan tucked the baby into the crook of her elbow and smiled at the infant. ‘Isn’t she gorgeous?’

      ‘Absolutely.’ Hugo couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason for his sudden unease. Maybe it was because it was taking so long for him to escape.

      ‘Do you know, I’ve delivered more than a hundred babies since I came here?’

      ‘Really? I guess you would have. You’ve been here nearly three years and we get about ninety births per annum.’ He smiled admiringly. ‘You’re doing your fair share, that’s for sure. Are you still enjoying your job?’

      ‘Oh, I love it.’ Joan’s smile was rather wistful, however.

      ‘But?’

      Joan hesitated. The glance she gave Hugo seemed almost shy. ‘I guess sometimes I wonder how many more of these bundles of joy I’ll deliver for other women before I get one of my own.’

      Hugo’s unease deepened perceptibly. ‘You’re only thirty, Joan. There’s plenty of time…isn’t there?’

      ‘Of course.’ Joan had hesitated just long enough to let Hugh know that, as someone who cared, it was his duty to investigate this matter further. His sigh of relief as his pager sounded was fortunately not audible.

      ‘I’d better get that.’ The atmosphere became safely professional again. ‘I’ll catch you later when I check on Nicola again. Maybe we’ll have time for a coffee before you go home.’

      ‘You’d better get your skates on, then.’ Joan glanced up at the wall clock. ‘I’ve got my oil-painting class at eight o’clock and I can’t miss that again.’

      Hugo didn’t really need to spend twenty minutes in the long-stay geriatric ward, making sure that Nancy was as comfortable as possible and that the night nursing staff would continue her close monitoring. Neither did he need to do such a thorough check on the four general medical patients they had at present. The trip to A and E to send Erin home with some pain relief and instructions on caring for her arm was not entirely necessary either, but each task he set himself seemed perfectly prudent. It certainly hadn’t been his intention to take so long getting back to Maternity.

      ‘Has Joan gone home, then?’ he asked the night nurse.

      ‘Twenty minutes ago. Did you want her for something?’

      ‘No.’ Hugo was disconcerted to find a hint of relief rather than disappointment lurking. He must be more tired than he’d thought. ‘How’s Nicola?’

      ‘Sound asleep—just like her daughter. Do you want to see them?’

      ‘I won’t disturb them. It’s high time I went home myself.’

      The road curved around the edges of Lake Wakatipu and Hugo found himself nurturing his first real hope of winding down from a long and tiring day. The level of stress he was trying to escape was unusually high. He loved his job and his lifestyle and it was a rare occurrence to have a day as hectic as today’s had been. The busload of poisoned honeymooners had tipped the balance a little too close to chaos for comfort but the diverse range of illnesses and injuries that tourists to the area brought was part of what kept his life as a rural doctor so interesting.

      And the tourists were flocking to Central Otago, and Queenstown in particular, in increasing numbers every year. More than once the alpine resort had received accolades of being the friendliest foreign city and it was the only New Zealand destination to rank amongst the world’s top twenty. A place of enormous scenic beauty, with a rich gold-mining history and award-winning vineyards, Queenstown had also earned a reputation as the adventure capital of the world. With a baseline population of fewer than twenty thousand people, peak summer and winter tourist seasons could take numbers to over forty thousand. That dramatically increased the workload of the available GPs and the local hospital where Hugo worked for most of his time as its on-call physician and medical administrator.

      Two startled rabbits ran from the beam of the headlamps as Hugo turned to swing his Jeep into the covered space the old woolshed provided for his vehicle. Three old farm dogs competed for his attention the moment he stepped out, and Hugo bent to fondle three pairs of ears before making his way to the long, low house sitting only metres away from the lake-side shingle beach. Having reached the veranda, he paused for a moment despite the bone-chilling temperature to take in the shimmer of moonlight gilding the glassy, black surface of the lake. It was bright enough to make the lights of Queenstown on the far shore of little note.

      The happy panting of the dogs and the gentle rub of shingle from tiny waves at the lake’s edge were the only sounds to break a deep and peaceful silence. Then a muted whine from one of the dogs reminded Hugo that he was very late producing their dinner. He moved inside, checked his phone for messages, opened the logburner to add wood and crank up the air flow and then filled the three bowls in the laundry with dog nuts. Reaching into the fridge to retrieve the remains of last night’s casserole for himself, Hugo spotted the half-finished bottle of white wine. One glass wouldn’t hurt, even if he was on call. The only message on his phone was from his mother and Hugo had an uneasy feeling that talking to Gwen Patterson might not be the best way to try and unwind.

      In fact, it might be better if he put off returning the call until tomorrow. Leaving the bottle where it was, Hugo put the casserole in the microwave and hit the reheat button. The old leather armchair near the fire looked extremely inviting and Hugo took his plate in that direction a few minutes later. The phone was within reach, recent, unread copies of his favourite medical journals were on the coffee-table beside the chair and his dogs were lying contentedly in the circle of warmth. Hugo felt his stress levels declining rapidly. He was, once again, a very happy man.

      At least, he was until the insistent call of the telephone jerked him from a very pleasant post-prandial doze.

      ‘Darling, you’re finally home! I rang earlier.’

      ‘I was just thinking about you,’ Hugo said in surprise. The half-dream had been a less pleasant aspect of the doze. He had been almost convinced that his mother was about to arrive on his doorstep for another extended visit—intent on finding the woman who would bear her grandchildren. As much as Hugo loved his mother, anything more than a three-day visit was a daunting prospect. ‘I’ve been incredibly busy today,’ he added hurriedly. ‘In fact, life is generally a bit hectic at the moment.’

      ‘Don’t worry, Hugo. I’m not planning a surprise visit. Queenstown’s far too cold for me in winter.’

      ‘It’s freezing,’ Hugo agreed. ‘But

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