Found: A Father For Her Child Part 10

Carrie stared at him, moved by the pa.s.sion in his voice. By the excitement that was evident in every bodily nuance. He obviously cared for this community enormously. He looked invigorated and very, very committed. His grey gaze was earnest. She'd never seen him looking s.e.xier.

But she wasn't paid to be swept away by pa.s.sionate ideals, even if they were being delivered so eloquently by a man who had pushed her against a door and kissed her breath away.

'And where will the money come from?'

'The bottom line again, Carrie?'

She heard the disdain in his voice and saw the contemptuous curl of his lips. 'Yes, Charlie, The bottom line. Sorry to be so boring but a project of this magnitude...' she tapped the plans with a pen '...takes serious cash.' She didn't have the heart to tell him that her investigation would probably lead to a recommendation of closure.

'Once you've finished your financial a.n.a.lysis I'll take everything to the hospital board. The plans and my ideas on funding them. This kind of project should attract a lot of monetary support from government, private and community sources.'

'I don't know, Charlie,' Carrie said, her gaze returning to the plans. She chose her words carefully. 'The drop-in centre is hardly a financial gold mine to start with. This will be a really hard sell.'

Charlie pushed away from the chair. 'It's a free clinic, Carrie. It's not in our charter to make a profit.'

'It's not in your charter to lose money, either. If you do succeed in convincing them to do this, you're going to need to keep your books better.'

Charlie grinned at her. 'I'll put a part-time bookkeeper in my proposal.'

Carrie shook her head as she watched him swagger out the door.

Charlie attacked the rest of the day with renewed vigour. He felt like he was starting afresh. The excitement he'd felt when he'd first had the plans drawn up returned. Formulating them shortly after his separation from Veronica had taken his mind off what had been happening in his personal life and he had worked on them day and night. Then a year ago his whole life had changed again in the blink of an eye, and he had put everything on hold. But no more. He intended to take his life back. No matter what it held.

An hour after Angela left for the day Charlie was at the front desk, looking for a file, when a young woman staggered into the clinic. She looked about seventeen and was clutching the two edges of her torn T-s.h.i.+rt together, one breast half-exposed. Her skirt was ripped, her face red and bruised, her bottom lip swollen and bleeding. She was sobbing and her mascara had run all down her face.

Charlie raced around the other side of the desk and caught her before she collapsed.

'Don't touch me, don't touch me,' she screamed at Charlie, struggling to free herself from his hold.

Charlie released her instantly. Everyone in the lounge and waiting area stopped and stared, the jukebox the only noise.

The girl didn't look familiar to Charlie. 'It's OK. I'm a doctor. My name's Charlie. You look hurt. What happened?'

The girl looked at him with fear and rage in her eyes. 'I couldn't stop him, he was too big.'

Charlie felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The girl had been raped. d.a.m.n it, he needed Angela! 'Jordan,' he said to the nearest open-mouthed teenager, 'go and get Carrie.'

Jordan scuttled past quickly and hurried down the hallway to the staffroom.

'It's OK,' Charlie said again to the frightened girl, 'No one's going to hurt you here. You're safe now.'

Carrie strode briskly down the hallway, Jordan close behind. She arrived on the scene and stifled a horrified gasp at the badly beaten girl with wild eyes, her stance wary and agitated.

'This is Carrie,' Charlie said quietly. 'She's a doctor, too.'

Carrie felt the denial rise to her lips. No, no, no. She wasn't here for this. Ever since she'd met Charlie he'd been dragging her into situations she didn't want to be in. Had given up before Dana's birth. But the wounded-animal look in the girl's eyes called to something deep inside her, and she just couldn't turn away from such a wretched soul.

'How about you go with her and she sees to your injuries?'

Carrie looked at Charlie. The look in his eyes was almost as desperate as the girl's. He needed her to do this for him, for this girl. But more than that, his slight nod told her he had faith in her. That she could do it. That she'd be OK.

Carrie took a deep breath and took a hesitant step towards the frightened girl, giving her a rea.s.suring smile. 'Hi,' she said. 'Why don't we go in there?' She pointed behind her to the treatment room. 'Then I'll clean up your face.'

The girl swung her gaze from Charlie to Carrie. 'I tried to stop him.'

'I know,' Carrie said gently, holding out her hand. 'Come on, you're safe now.'

The girl looked at Carrie's hand and then back at Charlie and then back at Carrie. 'I don't want him,' she said to Carrie, pointing at Charlie.

Carrie flicked a glance at Charlie. I do. At the moment she wanted his back-up and support more than anything. 'No, it's OK, just you and me. Just the two of us.'

The girl wavered for a moment and then nodded, walking warily towards Carrie. Carrie put her arm around the girl's shoulders. She felt her flinch slightly. 'It's OK. Come on, not far.' She led the girl to the treatment room, helped her up onto the examination table and turned to shut the door.

'Find her some clothes,' she said to Charlie, who was hovering outside.

He nodded. 'I'll give you a plastic bag to put her other clothes in. The police will want them for evidence. Wear gloves. I'll get a counsellor from the rape crisis centre over and call the police.'

Carrie nodded and shut the door. She took a deep breath before she turned around to face the girl again. She'd had no experience with s.e.xual a.s.sault victims.

She opened some cupboards against the far wall, looking for a dressing pack of some description to clean the girl's cut lip. It also gave her time to think of how she was going to deal with the situation. To say she felt out of her depth was an understatement.

Carrie found what she needed and fussed over opening the pack and pouring some antiseptic liquid into one of the plastic pots. She placed it on the trolley and pushed it over, dragging the mobile stool as she went.

'What's your name?' Carrie asked as she sat on the stool, the long-forgotten clinician inside her a.s.sessing the girl's battered face.

'R-Roberta,' she said, her arms crossed across her torn T-s.h.i.+rt.

'Hi, Roberta.' Carrie reached down and pulled some gloves out of a box on the bottom of the trolley. 'Would you like to get out of those clothes?'

Roberta looked down at her tattered and bloodied clothes and nodded her head.

'I'll have to bag them for the police, is that OK?'

'The police?'

Carrie saw Roberta recoil. 'Yes. You do want this man caught, don't you?'

Carrie saw a host of emotions flit across Roberta's broken face and feared that the girl was about to burst into tears. Then a hardness entered her eyes and her jaw clenched. 'I want him to rot in a jail cell for ever.'

There was a quiet knock at the door and Roberta startled clutching at Carrie's arm. Carrie covered Roberta's hand with hers. 'It's OK. It'll be Charlie with some new clothes.'

Roberta's grip eased and she nodded at Carrie.

Carrie rose and opened the door. 'Thanks,' she said to Charlie, accepting the bundle he gave her.

'How's it going?'

'OK...I think.'

Charlie nodded. 'The counsellor and the cops should be here soon.'

'Thanks.' Carrie closed the door and went back to tend to Roberta.

Roberta winced as Carrie touched some gauze to her shattered lip. 'Sorry,' she murmured.

'b.a.s.t.a.r.d punched me in the face. Twice. What gave him the right to do this?' Roberta demanded. 'Because I'm a hooker to put food in my kid's mouth? I told him I was off duty but he wouldn't take no for an answer.'

Roberta started to cry and Carrie felt helpless. Anger and revulsion raged inside her at the ordeal this girl had been through.

'Do you remember what he looked like? Do you know him?'

Roberta sniffled. 'I've seen him around. But what's the point? They're never going to believe a hooker crying wolf.'

Carrie didn't know much about these things but a blind man could see that Roberta had been a.s.saulted. 'Let me feel your face,' Carrie said, putting down the gauze now the lip had been attended to. 'Tell me where it hurts.'

'It hurts everywhere,' Roberta said.

Carrie prodded gently around Roberta's facial bones, looking for asymmetry and feeling for any obvious malformations or any signs of crepitis-bone rubbing against bone. There didn't appear to be any teeth broken and her bite seemed reasonably aligned.

'Think you'll need an X-ray just to check you don't have any fractures.'

Roberta nodded. 'Can I get dressed?'

'Sure,' Carrie said, pulling the mobile screen in place and handing her the clean clothes. 'Just put your other clothes on the bed and I'll bag them.'

'All I want is a shower,' Roberta said from behind the screen. 'I can smell him everywhere.'

'I know, but it's best if we collect the evidence from your body for the police first.'

'I'm done,' Roberta said a minute later.

Carrie pulled back the screen and helped Roberta back onto the table. She was gathering her discarded clothes together when there was another knock on the door.

Carrie opened it. There was an older woman standing with Charlie. She looked to be in her forties, her tough exterior betrayed by her friendly eyes. 'Carrie, this is Rene Chalk. She's from the rape crisis centre.'

Carrie smiled at the newcomer. 'Come in,' she invited.

Charlie performed the introductions and Carrie prepared to leave. 'No, don't go.' Roberta demanded, her voice rising. 'I want you to stay.'

Carrie looked at Charlie, surprised and startled by Roberta's request. Charlie nodded. So did Rene. So Carrie stayed and listened to Rene talk things over with Roberta. They talked a little about the a.s.sault but mainly about what would happen next. The police and court proceedings. Rene offered and urged Roberta to seek free counselling at the rape crisis centre in the next few days and to continue it for as long as she felt she needed it.

The police were next. Roberta was adamant that she didn't want Charlie collecting the rape evidence so Carrie performed that, too, in the presence of Rene and a female police officer, who bagged the evidence as Carrie collected it. The officer also took photos of the facial injuries and the bruising on Roberta's thighs.

Two hours later Carrie was emotionally exhausted but also strangely elated. Roberta's reliance on her had made her feel as if she'd actually made a difference to someone's life again. And she hadn't had that feeling for a long time. It was why she'd become a doctor in the first place. What she'd once thrived on. She hadn't realised how much she'd missed it. Until now.

Rene had left with Roberta accompanying her to the police station to make a formal statement and then to the hospital for X-rays. Charlie was in his office, dealing with all the paperwork.

Carrie wandered down to the staffroom. It was after five and she really needed to get home. Now the crisis was over she felt strangely depleted and she sat at the table for a moment to collect herself, staring at her laptop-another wasted afternoon.

Carrie sighed. She was never going to get this finished. And she really, really needed to because the longer she was around Charlie the more she began to question the direction of her life. And she was very comfortable with that direction. Or at least she had been.

The door opened. 'Well, that's the paperwork done. Thanks so much for earlier, Carrie. You were wonderful,' Charlie said, walking straight to the table and sitting down.

Do not listen to his praise. You are on track to becoming Australia's youngest MD. 'Didn't really have a whole lot of choice, did I?'

'That's why we need the expansion.' Charlie winked. 'A female doctor around here would be very handy.'

Carrie shook her head. 'You know there's no way the board is going to agree to your plans.'

He shrugged. 'I'm feeling suddenly optimistic.'

She shook her head again. He was smiling at her and his grey eyes, three-day growth and s.h.a.ggy hair oozed s.e.x appeal.

'Well, don't count your chickens,' she warned wearily, packing up her stuff.

'Nothing ventured, nothing gained.' He watched her zipping her laptop away. 'What about you?'

'What about me?'

'Well, I made a decision today to get my life back on track. To stop treading water and get back in there again. But what about you? Today you demonstrated yet again how good a clinician you are. Isn't it time you gave up all this-' he picked up some of her papers and threw them in the air '-and got back to what you're really good at?'

Carrie watched the papers float down, some landing on the table, the others on the floor. She glared at him. 'They were in order,' she snapped.

'Good,' he said firmly. 'Stop hiding behind them, Carrie.'

Carrie gritted her teeth and collected the scattered papers. Her heart hammered as she bit back a hundred things she wanted to say. She jammed them in her briefcase. 'What I do with my life is none of your business.'

Charlie shook his head. 'You're wasting your talent.'

'Guess you know how your father feels now,' she snapped, sweeping her briefcase off the table, ripping her jacket off the back of her chair and stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind her for good measure.

Charlie sat at the table unmoving for a few moments. Touche, Carrie. Touche.

CHAPTER SIX.

CARRIE arrived at the centre on Wednesday morning and was surprised not to see Charlie sitting at his desk. Surely she hadn't beaten him in? They'd barely spoken since his comment on Friday, trading polite, brief conversation only.

She opened the door to the staffroom to find him sitting at the table, turning an envelope over and over in his hands. His usual mug was in front of him.

'Morning.'