Healing The Single Dad's Heart / Just Friends To Just Married?: Healing the Single Dad's Heart (The Good Luck Hospital) / Just Friends to Just Married? (The Good Luck Hospital)

‘Exactly. We offer free medical care to the orphanage. Things have improved in the last few years, but we still aren’t where we should be.’

‘Sometimes I forget how lucky we are in the UK. Yes, things aren’t perfect. But the healthcare part of the job generally always gets done.’ He gave a slow nod. ‘And the first hospital you mentioned?’

‘The other is in Uông Bí in Quang Ninh province, in northeast Vietnam, more towards the coast. We’ll cover both hospitals at some point in the next six months—generally just for a week or two to cover holidays.’

‘Okay.’ He was beginning to get a general feel for the place, for the sort of patients he’d be seeing, and the kind of responsibilities he’d have here. None of it seemed beyond his ability, though he’d have to do a bit more background reading on some treatments.

Lien ran through the paperwork they used, how to order tests and their prescribing arrangements. She handed him a pre-printed list with Vietnamese names for some of the more commonly used drugs. It was clear she’d familiarised foreign doctors with the clinic workings before.

Joe leaned on one hand. Everything seemed straightforward enough. ‘This place,’ he said, ‘it’s like a cross between a community clinic, a cottage hospital and an ER.’

Lien was watching him with careful eyes. He couldn’t quite work out what was going on in her mind. He was sure she was part vetting him, part examining his motives. It was only natural. She was looking for someone she could rely on. Having to check another doctor’s practices would be almost as bad as not having a colleague at all. ‘Let’s hope you don’t have to cover it all at once,’ she said softly.

He could see the flash of worry in her eyes. But the only way to earn the trust of a colleague was to prove himself. Joe was willing to do that. Back home everyone trusted him in his current role, but he wasn’t back home any more. He was in an entirely different country, and while some health needs would be the same, there were others he’d need to query, and Joe wasn’t too proud to do that. He would never put patients at risk.

‘Where do you want me?’

Lien’s eyes brightened at the question. Was that relief he’d just spotted? ‘What do you prefer?’ she asked. ‘I need someone to cover the children’s clinic, and someone to cover the adult clinic.’

He gave a nod. The clinic work, whether it was for children or adults, would be very much like his GP role back home. He shot her a smile. ‘Happy to do either.’ Then met her gaze. ‘Put me wherever I can be of most use.’

She shifted a little in her chair, caught off guard at his words. He almost let his smile broaden. She liked being straightforward and so did he. ‘I’m not here to be a hindrance, Lien, I’m here to be a help.’

She reached up and brushed an errant strand of brown hair behind her ear that had escaped her ponytail. She was close enough that he could see just how smooth her skin was. She wore very little make-up. But she didn’t need any, her dark hair and eyes complemented her appearance beautifully. In another life, in another place, he would definitely have looked twice.

It had been so long since a thought like that had even entered his head that he automatically frowned. What was wrong with him? Where had that come from?

Lien tilted her head. ‘Something wrong?’

He shook his head too quickly. ‘No, nothing.’ He pushed himself up from the chair. ‘Where do you want me?’ He was anxious to get this day started.

The few seconds of silence was slightly uncomfortable. He flashed back to being a junior doctor and the nurse in charge of the ward shooting him a glance to say she doubted he should even actually touch a patient.

A figure appeared in the doorway and Lien stood up. ‘Perfect. Mai Ahn, this is Joe. Joe, this is Mai Ahn, your interpreter. She’ll help you with the children’s clinic.’

‘Children’s clinic it is,’ he said with a nod, before reaching out to shake hands with Mai Ahn. ‘Lead the way.’

She was unsure of him. Of course she was. Did he even notice he occasionally glanced at his mobile clipped onto his belt? It was only natural that he was worried about how his son was settling in on his first day of nursery, she only hoped it wouldn’t distract him from the job he had to do.

The children’s clinic wasn’t for the faint-hearted.

She couldn’t help but be automatically protective of the place she loved working in. At least he’d been honest last night. He’d told her that he and his son needed a change after losing his wife. He’d said it had been three years. But she’d seen the glint of pain in his eyes. Was he really ready to move on?

She still had doubts.

It was a shame. Because he was undoubtedly handsome. The burr of the Scots accent was almost melodic—even though she had to concentrate hard. And it was clear that he doted on his son. Just as she’d expect him to.

She gave herself a shake. It was a ridiculous observation. She was used to doctors coming here on short-term contracts, and she’d never considered any kind of relationship. She was too busy. Too dedicated to her work. She’d had her heart broken once, and that was enough for her.

Too poor. Not the words he’d used, but those were the words he’d meant. Lien had never pretended to be anything she wasn’t. As a child she’d always been well mannered and as well presented as she could be. She’d been bright, and her teachers had noticed. They’d encouraged her to study hard, and eventually helped her to seek out scholarships so she could attend medical school.

At medical school she’d got along with most of her classmates. Reuben had come from a rich family in another city. He’d never asked her where she lived—he’d just made assumptions. Then, when he’d found out, after two years, she’d been dumped quicker than a hot brick.

Her family was proud of her, and she was of them. She’d hated the way it had made her feel. Not good enough. Not rich enough.

She came from one of the poorest areas in the city. Her family still lived there—no matter how much she’d tried to assist them since she’d qualified as a doctor. But even now they wouldn’t accept any financial help from her.

They liked where they lived. They still worked hard. They didn’t want change, in any form.

Lien lifted the pile of patient notes from the desk. They were all people who were due back at the clinic today to be reviewed.

One of the nurses gave her a smile as she walked into the waiting room. There were already ten people waiting. She gave a nod of her head and smiled, speaking in Vietnamese. ‘Okay, who is first?’

The only person having trouble concentrating today was her. She kept casting her eyes through to the other waiting room. She knew that Mai Ahn, the interpreter, would come and find her if he had any concerns. But she didn’t. Instead, she saw an occasional glance of Joe carrying babies and toddlers through to the examination room for assessment or vaccinations. Through Mai Ahn, he chatted to the mothers. Most of them seemed happy to talk to him and from the looks on their faces the Scottish doctor was proving a hit.

After a few hours he came through and knocked on her door.

‘Lien, can we have a chat about a child?’

She nodded, pleased that he’d come to talk to her.

‘I think I’ve got a little one with complications of tuberculosis. I can’t find any previous notes, and there’s no X-ray.’ His brow wrinkled. ‘Don’t most babies get immunised against tuberculosis shortly after birth?’

‘They should. Unfortunately, tuberculosis is common around here. If babies are born in hospital they are immunised if the parents consent. But not all babies are born in hospitals. What do you think are the complications?’

He ran his hands through his hair. ‘She’s losing weight, even though she’s feeding. Her colour is poor, she’s tachycardic, and I suspect her oxygen saturation isn’t what it should be. Her lungs don’t sound as if they are filling properly. She has a temperature and a cough. I suspect a pleural effusion. Do you have a paediatric monitor I could use while I order a chest X-ray?’

Lien stood quickly and gave him a serious kind of smile. ‘Let’s do this together.’

He raised one eyebrow. ‘Don’t you trust me?’ He didn’t seem annoyed by the fact she was effectively second-guessing him. He might even have looked a little amused.

‘You asked for a second opinion, Dr Lennox. I’m going to give you one.’

The amused look stayed on his face. ‘Absolutely. I haven’t seen many kids with tuberculosis in Scotland.’

She gave a nod as they walked through to the paediatric treatment room. As soon as they reached the door, Lien could almost verify his diagnosis. She switched to Vietnamese and introduced herself to the mother and her five-year-old daughter, who was clearly sick.

Joe’s notes were thorough. Three other members of the family had active tuberculosis. Only one complied with their treatment. It was no wonder the little girl was affected.

Five minutes later they were looking at a chest X-ray. Joe was right at her shoulder. She held her breath and caught a slight whiff of the aftershave he was wearing, even though it was overshadowed by his insect repellent. She wanted to know if he’d recognise what she needed him to on the X-ray.

She needn’t have worried. He lifted one finger and pointed to the film. ‘Pleural effusion without any parenchymal lesion.’ He didn’t finish there. ‘I know there’s some mixed feelings, but because of how this little girl has presented, I would be inclined to drain the effusion rather than leaving it.’

She took a few minutes to recheck things. This was the first time he’d seen a child with tuberculosis, never mind the added complications, and he’d picked it up straight away. She couldn’t help but be impressed.

She turned to face him. ‘I think you’re right. Let’s put our public health heads on and try to persuade the rest of the family to comply with their medications. We can use a sample of the effusion to diagnose the tuberculosis. A pleural biopsy would likely be too traumatic right now.’

He nodded in agreement. She paused for a moment, wondering whether she should question his skill set any further.