A Baby for the Flying Doctor Read Free

‘I must say, Euphemia, it’s very impressive you’ve had a paper accepted.’ He knew the quality of the presenters at the conference and realised Dr Grainger must indeed be an exceptional doctor if her paper had been chosen. ‘And you’re going all the way to Sydney by train?’
    ‘Yes. More time to finalise things, at least that’s what I keep telling myself. I just want everything to be perfect.’
    ‘And that’s your cabin?’ He pointed to the one she’d indicated previously.
    ‘Yes. Well…until we get to Adelaide. Then I’ll be sitting up in the day-night seaters.’
    ‘What? Why? You can’t sleep in those things and then present at the conference on Monday.’ He had a rather large cabin which had two beds. Perhaps Dr Grainger might like to—He stopped his thoughts before they continued. It wasn’t his place to solve the problems of the world, let alone the problems of petite and pretty Dr Grainger. He’d tried several times to take the world on his shoulders and had only ended up suffering from bouts of depression. No. It wasn’t up to him to solve Euphemia’s problems. Problems of a medical nature, problems where he could figureout a solution—that was completely different. It was one of the reasons he’d accepted the travelling fellowship because he’d needed to continue moving, doing something, anything so he didn’t have to face his past.
    ‘The seats aren’t so bad,’ Euphemia was saying, and Gil realised he’d zoned out for a moment. ‘No worse than economy class in an aeroplane besides, I have friends joining me when the train stops in Adelaide so that way we can all be together.’
    It wasn’t his problem where she sat or why, he told himself again. ‘Fair enough.’ He nodded politely, deciding now was a good time to escape her unnerving presence. ‘Well, I hope you’ll be able to join me for a cup of tea at some point over the next few days. It’s a long train journey and I’d relish the opportunity to sit and chat with you.’
    ‘I’d like that. Uh…from a medical point of view, I mean,’ she added quickly, just in case he thought she might want to chat about other things. ‘Uh…not that talking to you about more general topics wouldn’t be appreciated but—’ She cut herself off and closed her eyes for a split second, wondering if she could make this moment any more difficult. She doubted it.
    ‘I understand.’ Gil held out his hand, being the ever-polite professor, and then wished he hadn’t. He was still simmering deep down inside from the last time they’d touched. Why had he instigated another? He cleared his throat and called on all the professionalism he could muster. ‘It was nice to meet you, Dr Grainger.’
    ‘You too, Professor Fitzwilliam.’
    ‘Gil.’
    A shy smile touched her lips. ‘Gil.’ Once again they seemed caught up in time, their hands clasped, their gazes locked. She breathed in his name and tried not to sigh. ‘Uh…er…’ She shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. ‘My friends call me Phemie.’
    ‘Phemie.’ Gil nodded, still enchanted to find such an unusualname for such an unusual woman. He gave her hand an extra little squeeze before releasing it. ‘I sincerely hope to see you around, Phemie Grainger.’
    ‘Likewise, Gil Fitzwilliam.’ With one more smile, he turned and walked away. She stood there like a gormless twit and watched him open the carriage door, heading through that one and then through to the previous carriage. There was no way she could help the deep, satisfied sigh that escaped her.
    She’d just met Professor Fitzwilliam. The Professor Fitzwilliam. A man she’d admired for…well, since she’d been a medical student. He’d been writing medical articles for the Journal of Emergency Medicine for years and whenever her copy had arrived, his were the first articles she’d read.
    Phemie returned to her cabin and sank into the chair. She looked at the notes for her presentation but found she simply