The Doctor's Society Sweetheart Read Free

contorted in pain and exhaustion, his right hand, wrapped in a bloodied cloth, clutched to his chest. She didn’t need a translator to tell her what was going on and was glad she hadn’t started taking off her boots yet. She left the rest of her crew and followed Dart as he led the man to the hut that had a big red cross on the outside.
    ‘What can I do to help?’ she asked, bending to take off her shoes but then realising Dart still had his on. She straightened, realising that despite local custom shoes were always worn in a hospital environment where disease and infection were present. Looking around, she saw there were two stretchers propped off the floor with bamboo criss-cross frames. There were open shelves containing various medicines and equipment, as well as a large pile of blankets and sheets. It was well stocked and neatly organised. Next to it in the corner was a table, which held a large washing bowl with a smallfolded towel beside it. There was a bucket of water on the floor beneath the table.
    Dart glanced over at her briefly, before turning his attention back to the man, who was still wailing in pain. After seating the man on the stretcher, Dart went to the shelves and withdrew a needle and a vial of liquid, obviously some sort of painkiller. He didn’t even bother to swab the area but injected it straight away, soothing the man as best he could, given that Tarparnese didn’t sound soothing at the best of times.
    ‘What can I do to help?’ Emmy asked again, coming further into the room.
    Dart turned and took a sheet from the shelf next to her, before ripping it up into strips. ‘Stay out of my way,’ he muttered. Next he stalked the small distance to the table and poured some water from the bucket into the bowl. It was obvious he needed to clean the wound and deciding it might be better to ignore his instruction, Emmy scanned the shelves and found some disinfectant. She brought it over and placed it on the table without a word. Then she found some sutures and bandages, putting them on the small work area that was near each stretcher.
    Dart didn’t say anything else but, after washing his own hands, pulled on a pair of gloves and unwrapped the bloodied hand. ‘Just a gash,’ he said, more to himself than to anyone else. He translated his words to Hunklu, his patient. ‘An honourable gash.’ As he continued to debride the wound site, Emmy stood next to him, assisting him without a word, easily anticipating his needs. She had the locking forceps ready with the suture needle clamped firmly in place when he turned to look for it. They worked in silence and only after Hunklu’s hand had been sutured and cleanly bandaged did Dart speak.
    ‘I could have coped.’
    ‘I have no doubt, but you didn’t need to. I am a qualifieddoctor.’ There was just the briefest hint of annoyance in her tone but Emmy had been schooled years ago to always keep her emotions under control. Still, she wanted to make her point.
    ‘Hmm.’
    ‘Qualified to work here in Tarparnii as well. PMA approved. Signed, sealed and delivered to your door, Dr Freeman.’
    Dart’s answer to this was to raise his eyebrows as he disposed of the bloodied rubbish. He said a few words to Hunklu then sat him up and helped the man to remove his torn and stained shirt. ‘Ms Jofille, if you’d like to ask Meeree for one of Jalak’s shirts, that will be helpful.’
    ‘It’s Dr Jofille, if you don’t mind,’ she said pointedly, her frustration at his indifference starting to affect her. Hands placed firmly on her hips, she almost dared him to challenge her on the point. Why did it feel as though she was on the back foot again? In everything she’d ever done, from being a part of the Jofille family, going to medical school, to her current job, she’d always had to prove herself over and over, and after thirty-two years, she was getting sick of it!
    After the briefest of nods from the insufferable Dart Freeman, Emmy turned and headed out