The Maker Page 2

  Tanya shrugged, unconcerned. “She thinks because she’s Doctor Baker’s wife she can lord it over his students. Ha! I’ll show her. She’s nothing but a bully. Wait until—”

  “She’s Doctor Baker’s wife? Are you kidding? And she works for him?”

  “Yeah, weird, huh? You’d think with all the money he must make she’d be whiling away her time at soirees and society lunches. Perhaps she doesn’t trust him around his young and beautiful medical students?” Tanya winked and Chanel was reminded of Marjorie’s comments about the doctor.

  Tanya lowered her head conspiratorially. “I’ve heard rumors that he—”

  Her words halted abruptly when an inner door opened and Doctor Baker strode into the room. Chanel had seen images of him on Google, but none of them had done justice to the way he appeared in the flesh. Apart from being above average height and in peak physical condition, he had an air of charm and charisma that no photo could properly capture. His blue eyes twinkled with warmth and humor and his teeth showed white and straight and perfect amidst the fullness of his smile.

  The man was gorgeous. If she were the kind of girl who was attracted to older men, she’d be a goner, for sure. Aware that she’d been staring, Chanel dragged her gaze away from him and studied the carpet.

  “Good morning to all of you. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting?”

  A murmur of ‘No, Doctor’ ran through the group.

  “For those of you who are new to Sydney Harbour Hospital, I’d like to welcome you, and in particular, I’d like to congratulate you on making it onto my team. There were many of you who competed for a place. You have a right to feel proud that you made it through.”

  Chanel nodded in agreement. She looked up and her gaze tangled with his. He stared at her, his expression intense. Her heart skipped a beat and heat rushed into her cheeks. After what seemed like forever, he looked away and she drew in a shaky breath. She snuck a peek at Tanya, but it seemed the girl hadn’t noticed.

  “Anyway, enough of that,” Doctor Baker continued, his tone dismissive. “Why don’t you come through to the boardroom? We can get to know each other a little better and I can fill you in on what I expect.” He swung around and spoke to his wife. “Susan, bring in some coffee. Or perhaps some of you would prefer tea?”

  “Coffee’s fine,” Chanel murmured, along with the nine others.

  “Coffee it is, then.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed toward a room adjacent to the one he’d come from. He opened the door and then stood back to allow them to enter. Chanel stared straight ahead and followed behind Tanya.

  “Hey, what’s your name?”

  The doctor’s voice was a low murmur in Chanel’s ear. His warm hand on her bare arm startled her. Her mouth went dry and her tongue refused to work.

  “Ch-Chanel Munro,” she stammered and silently cursed the fresh wave of heat that flooded her cheeks.

  “Chanel Munro. A beautiful name. Welcome; it’s good to have you on my team. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”

  “Th-thank you, Doctor Baker. I-I’m very grateful to be here.”

  His voice dropped to a husky drawl. “We all have much to be grateful for, Chanel Munro.”

  Someone behind her cleared their throat and Chanel lowered her head in embarrassment. No doubt he told all of his recruits how pleased he was they’d joined his team. He’d handpicked them, after all. She hurried after the others and took a place beside Tanya in the boardroom.

  A large oval table made from some kind of dark, polished wood filled most of the room. High-backed black leather chairs provided seating for at least twenty. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with numerous leather-bound medical journals stood against two walls. A third wall held a large flat-screen television, projector screen and sophisticated-looking audio equipment. Pale morning sunlight filtered in through the windows that were set against the fourth wall. The room was darkly masculine and perfectly suited the charismatic doctor who took the place at the head of the table.

  Chanel was a little alarmed to discover she sat directly across from him. She felt off balance, uncertain of how to proceed. She was grateful for the vastness of the table that separated them—even though that distance didn’t seem near enough.

  She frowned and did her best to quell her nerves. She’d been around good-looking men before. She’d worked with a lot of doctors who were easy on the eye and she’d even dated one or two. What was it about Doctor Baker that had her so nervous inside? He was nothing more than her boss—albeit an attractive one.

  The door to the boardroom swung open and Susan Baker walked in carrying a large tray laden with a silver coffee service and cups to match. Chanel eased out her breath in relief and vowed silently to keep her wayward emotions under control. She was there to learn under the best. A year under the tutelage of Doctor Baker would set her up for life. She’d be guaranteed entry into whatever post-graduate medical career she chose. She refused to allow her nerves to jeopardize everything she’d worked for. With that resolution in mind, she kept her gaze focused on the table before her.

  “Thank you, Susan.” He turned his attention to his new team. “People, we have fresh coffee, cream and sugar. Come and help yourselves.”

  The others pushed back their chairs and headed toward the tray that had been left on one corner of the table, not far from where the doctor sat. Chanel remained where she was. The aroma of freshly brewed beans wafted toward her, tantalizing her and warring with her need to keep her distance from Doctor Baker.

  “Do you want one?” Tanya asked and Chanel swallowed a sigh of relief.

  “Yes, thank you. Cream and one sugar would be great.”

  A few moments later, Tanya returned with a cup in either hand and set one down before Chanel who offered the girl a grateful smile.

  “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver! It’s my first hit of caffeine for the day.”

  Tanya smiled. “Really? I can’t get out of bed without at least one cup in my belly. I’m lucky. My dad brings it in to me every morning.”

  “You still live with your dad?” Chanel asked in surprise. She’d gauged Tanya’s age to be close to her own.

  “Yes. I still live with my dad. I think I’m the only thirty-year-old in Sydney who does so, but there you have it.”

  Chanel shrugged. “I guess if there isn’t a reason for you to move out, it’s a sensible thing to do. The rents in Sydney aren’t cheap, particularly close to the city. I bet you save a ton of money.”

  “Yes, I’ve managed to save up and buy my first investment property.” Tanya winked. “There are some perks to living with your family at my advanced age, although it plays havoc with your love life.”

  “I think I could handle living with one of my brothers, if they had the room,” Chanel replied. “Three of them are scattered around Sydney. Each is married with a handful of kids. Their houses are full to bursting. Too bad, because my love life’s non-existent. I’m twenty-seven years old and can count the number of boyfriends I’ve had on one hand.”

  “You look a lot younger. Fresh and beautiful. Your skin’s so clear and your hair—there’s no way you’d get a color like that out of a bottle.”

  Chanel touched the single long braid a little self-consciously. People were always commenting on the color of her hair. Her father still referred to her having a ‘head of pure sunshine.’ She preferred to describe it as blond.

  “Thanks,” she muttered. “You’re right. The color’s natural. My mother’s fair. Even in her mid-sixties, she still has gorgeous hair.”

  “Like the doctor’s wife,” Tanya whispered on a giggle. “But you can bet hers came from a bottle. She’s plastic from head to toe.”

  Chanel snuck a peek in Susan’s direction and hid a smile behind her hand. The woman had an enviable figure and looked like she was devoted to her gym. A firm-looking pair of breasts large enough to put Pamela Anderson to shame were shown to full advantage in a tailored blouse with three of the top buttons undo
ne. She leaned across her husband, giving him the opportunity to look his fill, but his gaze remained fixed on Chanel. She blushed and looked away and busied herself by taking a quick gulp of her coffee.

  A moment later, the doctor clapped his hands together to capture everyone’s attention. “All right, now that we have a shot of caffeine on board, let’s get started. Thank you, Susan. You can take that away now.” He barely spared his wife a glance.

  Her mouth tightened, but she made no reply. Instead, she removed the tray of coffee things, as directed. Chanel watched with interest as she closed the door behind her.

  Doctor Baker cleared his throat. “I’ve allocated everyone a pager. Make sure it’s switched on at all times, unless you’re on rostered days off. Speaking of rosters, I’ve prepared one for each of you. You’ll find you’re scheduled for twelve-hour shifts and then you’ll be on call for another twelve. If you’re lucky, you might snatch an hour or two of sleep between emergencies.”

  A chorus of groans rippled around the room, but were quickly silenced with a stern look.

  “Let me remind you, you were the ones who applied to be considered for my team. I took only the best, but now you’re here, I expect you to earn it. Anyone who can’t keep up will fall by the wayside. Be warned, I won’t be here to pick up the pieces. If you want to work under the best, you have to be the best. Anything less is unacceptable.” He drilled them with hard eyes, his gaze slowly scanning the room. “Are we clear?”

  “Yes, Doctor,” Chanel murmured, along with her colleagues.

  The doctor stared at her and a little smile curled up his lips. “Good. Now, let’s go have some fun.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The doctor’s idea of fun was doing rounds on a medical ward. The beds were filled with his patients and all of them were grateful to see him. They clung to his words with almost as much vigor as they clung to his hand and it was obvious they thought very highly of him. Even their relatives looked upon him with admiration, gratitude and respect.

  Chanel pulled a notepad out of her backpack and scrawled down details of each bed and the patient contained therein, taking time to note their particular maladies and the treatment that had either been administered or would be in the near future.

  The majority of patients were well into their seventies and many of them suffered common complaints that came from aging: diabetes, ulcers, heart disease. A couple of them had come in with pneumonia. Doctor Baker took the time to listen to each one of them, often perching himself on the side of their bed. Chanel watched him squeeze old hands and pat wrinkled cheeks and couldn’t help but be impressed. He even helped one woman spoon yoghurt into her mouth.

  No wonder he was loved and adored by everyone he came into contact with. Chanel had never seen such devotion from a doctor. He was kindly, caring and more than generous with his time, speaking with his elderly patients in tones gentle, respectful and considerate. It was only when he turned his attention to his students that his demeanor changed.

  That’s when his eyes narrowed and his gaze turned hard. He fired one question after another at them, demanding answers that most of them struggled to give. Chanel fought to keep up with her notes and inched her way toward the back of the group.

  “Doctor Munro, please step forward.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. She quaked inwardly at the thought of being subjected to his harsh glare, but was left with no choice but to comply. She felt like an intern on her first ward rounds all over again.

  “Yes, Doctor Baker?”

  “This is Mrs Amelia Arncliffe. She was admitted last night. With Mrs Arncliffe’s permission, I want you to carry out an examination and then tell the rest of us what ails her.”

  Chanel bit her lip against a sudden rush of nerves, but quickly answered him. “Yes, Doctor.”

  Stepping forward, she fielded a sympathetic look from Tanya and moved closer to the bed. A cloud of snowy white hair framed the old lady’s petite face. She smiled up at Chanel and nodded her consent.

  “Hi, Mrs Arncliffe. I’m Doctor Munro. Now, what seems to be the matter?”

  “That’s what you’re here to find out, Doctor Munro,” Doctor Baker said dryly.

  Chanel blushed, but refused to be intimidated. She’d been treating patients under the guidance of her superiors for the last two years. She was hardly a novice. Drawing in a surreptitious breath, she tried again.

  “Are you in pain, Mrs Arncliffe?”

  “Yes, Doctor. It’s my tailbone. I can hardly bear to lie on it.”

  “Did you suffer a fall?”

  “No. It’s been sore for a while and it’s gradually gotten worse. Now the pain’s so bad I can’t stand it. It feels like I’m on fire.”

  “Do you mind if I take a look?”

  “No, not at all.” The woman rolled further onto her side and Chanel moved away to close the curtains. There wasn’t enough room for all ten of Doctor Baker’s students to fit around the bed.

  “Half of you will have to wait outside. You can sit in on the next one. The rest of you, gather close,” he said and moved until he stood right next to Chanel.

  Her heart rate skittered, but this time it wasn’t from the stress of getting the answer wrong. The smell of his expensive cologne tickled her nostrils. She could feel the heat of him through her white lab coat. With her gaze fixed on the patient, she pulled away the bedspread and sheet.

  “I’m going to have to lift up your nightdress, Mrs Arncliffe. Is that okay?”

  “Do what you need to do, honey. I have nothing you haven’t seen before although I bet it’s a bit more wrinkly than what you’re used to.”

  Chanel smiled at the woman’s sense of humor and proceeded to lift up her nightie. The elderly woman’s legs were slim and pale and hairless. Her skin was mottled with age. Raising the nightdress above the woman’s buttocks, Chanel spied a dark and angry wound, raw and festering with pus. She stifled a gasp. Her gaze flew up to meet Doctor Baker’s. He stared at her, his eyes dark with the same anger that stirred inside her.

  “Mrs Arncliffe,” she said, striving to keep her voice normal. “Do you live at home? Who cares for you?”

  “For over fifty years my dear old Edward looked after me. Every morning that we were married, he brought me tea and the papers in bed. He treated me like a queen. When he died last year, I couldn’t cope without him. My children thought it best for me to move into a home.”

  “You mean, a nursing home?”

  “Yes. I have my own room and a bookshelf and small closet to store my things, but I hate it. I’ve hated every minute of it since I moved there. Too much death and sickness. It feels like we’re all in a holding pattern and they’re just waiting for us to die.”

  She sniffed. “I can’t leave, even if I wanted to. My son sold my house within a month of me moving out. He says he’s invested the money in the share market, but I haven’t seen any proof of it. I know he has my best interests at heart and I’m not accusing him of any wrongdoing, but I wish I’d been given a chance to decide if I liked living in the home before my choices were taken away.”

  “Mm,” Chanel murmured, unable to say anything else. If she voiced her real feelings on the subject, she’d be reprimanded for speaking her mind. It wasn’t her place to have an opinion on Mrs Arncliffe’s living arrangements. Her family had done what they thought was best. At least, she hoped they’d acted with noble intent.

  “How often do the nurses take you for a walk, Mrs Arncliffe? It seems to me that you’ve been sitting or lying down for extended periods of time.”

  “Yes, you’re right about that, honey. I spend a lot of time in my room. Our meals are served out in the common room, but often I don’t bother getting up. Most of the time, the food is flavorless slop. It tastes nothing like what my Edward used to serve. The nurses don’t care if I don’t make it out for meals.”

  “What about showering? Do you need assistance for that?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid I do. My legs don’t work like they
should. A nurse usually takes me to the showers in a commode chair and gives me a wash.”

  Chanel gently lowered the woman’s nightgown and pulled the sheet and bedspread over her legs. She glanced at Doctor Baker.

  “So, Doctor Munro. What’s your diagnosis?”

  “She has an abscess on her sacrum, Doctor. It’s been there for some time. I’m not sure how it was overlooked by the staff in the nursing home. The hole’s almost as big as my fist.”

  Fresh anger lit the depths of Doctor Baker’s eyes and Chanel knew exactly how he felt. She’d never seen such neglect. And to think the poor lady was in the care of health professionals… There hadn’t been any caring going on for a long, long time.

  “How’s your pain, Mrs Arncliffe?” Chanel asked gently, keeping her anger in check.

  “Not too bad, honey. Whatever Doctor Baker prescribed for me last night seems to have done the trick. My pain hasn’t been this controlled for weeks.”

  Chanel looked up at the doctor and in silence, tried to convey her gratitude. She was beginning to understand the reaction he elicited from everyone around him. He was nothing short of a hero.

  “How would you treat Mrs Arncliffe, Doctor Munro?” he asked.

  “The wound needs debriding, preferably under a general anaesthetic. Once the dead skin has been removed and the wound properly cleaned, it needs to be packed with antibiotic-infused gauze and the dressing needs to be changed twice a day. I would also prescribe IV antibiotics to deal with infection. It has already set in around the wound. We need to take care it doesn’t get a further hold. With proper care and attention, she should make a full recovery.”

  “Very good, Doctor Munro. And when Mrs Arncliffe returns to the nursing home, what then?”

  Anger and frustration welled up inside her and her chest went tight. Chanel stared up at him and blinked hard at a sudden surge of tears. The thought of the poor little lady returning to the place of neglect was almost too much to bear. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

  “It’s okay, Doctor Munro,” Doctor Baker said, his voice low. “We’ll leave it there for now. You did well. Exactly the treatment I’ve prescribed. Congratulations. We might make a decent doctor out of you yet.”