She shut her mouth and turned her head to look at Angela. The older woman was looking her up and down like she had the first day, her expression registering extreme doubt.
She glanced back at Charlie who gave her a wink and a nod.
‘Ah…sure, I can.’
Angela gave her the once-over again and Carrie felt as if she’d been dressed down by the school principal and found wanting.
‘You sure?’ Angela asked her boss.
‘I’ll be fine,’ Carrie butted in, before Charlie had a chance to answer.
Angela ignored her and repeated the question. ‘Are you sure?’
He nodded. ‘We’ll be fine.’
‘OK…thanks. I’ll pop in later.’
They watched Angela leave. Carrie was miffed by Angela’s lack of faith. She felt like the wallflower with braces at a high school prom.
‘You are still a registered doctor, aren’t you?’ he asked as the door shut.
‘Of course,’ she said indignantly.
He shrugged. ‘Hey, something obviously happened with you. I thought you may have been deregistered.’
Obviously? Was it that obvious? ‘Most certainly not,’ she said primly, drawing herself up to her full height.
‘I’m sorry.’ He shrugged. ‘I just assumed…’
‘Like I assumed about the vitamins?’ she asked sweetly.
Charlie gave her a grudging smile. ‘Touché. Clinic starts in fifteen minutes.’
Now, this she could handle. Surely? Giving a few needles was hardly the same as lending a hand at an accident scene. No one’s life was in the balance. There wouldn’t be blood or the horrifying urgency of every second counting. A quick jab, dry a few tears, console a few stressed mothers and send them on their way. Anyone could do it.
The waiting area was crowded with men, women and children of all ages when she walked out on shaky legs. For once the brooding teenagers had been completely driven out of the clinic.
‘There’s a lot of people out there,’ she said, leaning against the doorframe of the treatment room.
He nodded. She’d put her jacket back on and he was grateful for it. The full power suit reminded him why she was there. Which was what he needed after seeing her languorous stretch in the staffroom. ‘Angela makes sure the immunisation clinic has a high local profile.’
‘You’re right, she is indispensable.’ Carrie had been more than impressed over the course of the week. Angela was efficient, ran the place with military precision and could stare down a sullen teenager or stoned user better than the scariest sergeant major. Not one regular dared to give Angela any lip.
Charlie gasped dramatically. ‘Me, right? Can I get that in writing?’
Carrie smiled. ‘Don’t let it go to your head.’
Too late. He’d spent the last five nights with her and her damn pinstriped suits in his head. He cleared his throat. ‘You handle the paperwork, I’ll give the injections,’ Charlie said as he checked the vaccine fridge in the treatment room. ‘Angela has all the cards out for those she’s expecting. They’ll be in alphabetical order. Any drop-ins should have their baby books and we can access their information through the practitioner portal at the national immunisation database website. Angela already has it up on the screen.’
He brushed past her, ignoring the brief press of flesh, and strode to the desk, demonstrating quickly how to access the information she’d need and how to update each patient’s records.
‘Weigh the babies if that hasn’t been done in the last month.’ He pointed to the scales.
‘Right,’ she said stiffly, still processing the sigh of her cells as her body reeled from the fleeting contact of his body against hers. Weigh the babies. See, easy. I can do this. It was hardly practising medicine.
Charlie stopped and gave her a searching look. ‘Are you sure?’
She scrambled to get her head together. She put her hand on her hip and lifted her chin. ‘I have two degrees. I think I can manage some data entry and a set of scales.’
Her stance emphasised the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip and her haughty put-down tone had the completely opposite effect. He was anything but put down. ‘Right, then, let’s get started before the mob starts to revolt.’
Three hours later they had finally broken the back of the queue. Three agonising hours of watching Charlie cluck, cuddle, soothe and generally work magic with every baby, toddler and child in the room. And their mothers. He’d even managed to engage the odd bored, rather-be-shooting-hoops dad who had been dragged along, as well.
He was a natural with kids. They responded to him with that typical childlike exuberance. He pulled faces and put on funny voices and teased and joked with the older children. He wiped away their tears and gave out ‘I’ve Been Beary Brave Today’ teddy-bear-shaped stickers and the kids’ eyes lit up like he’d just given them diamonds.