really rather not be a nurse while I’m here,’ Madeline interrupted.
She paused halfway to the table, where he could see the team already waiting, chatting away. She looked nervous again now.
‘Ryan, with all due respect, I didn’t come here to—’
‘Madeline, I get your current role, believe me, but people will be needing you out there. Do you really think, after everything you’ve trained for, that you could actually walk away from someone in pain?’
She opened her mouth to respond, but shut it again quickly. Annoyance was flickering in her eyes. He was concerned that this wasn’t looking very professional; people were looking at them.
‘It’s going to be fine,’ he whispered in her ear, getting a whiff of her floral perfume as he did so. Dear God, she smelled good.
‘Ryan, my man! Good to see you—and who’s this?’
The tall, sandy-blond-haired guy approaching them in smart black trousers and a purple shirt was Evan Walker—a trusted friend and doctor from Wisconsin, and a firm voice of reason on the Medical Extremes team. Viewers loved him for his sense of humour and equally for his ability to take charge at a moment’s notice. He had his own online fan club and was also popular because of his award-winning wife’s efforts in setting up a domestic abuse helpline.
‘Madeline Savoia is my ghost-writer...for the memoir,’ Ryan said calmly as Madeline dutifully held out her hand. ‘But she’s a nurse, too. I’ve explained that it’s all hands on deck at times.’
He felt her eyes burning his cheek as he spoke, but he didn’t turn his head.
‘Excellent,’ Evan enthused, throwing him a look Ryan knew only he could read. Evan knew everything about Josephine. And he hadn’t said a word.
‘I’m a huge fan of your work, Dr Walker,’ Madeline said.
‘Thank you very much. So, have you been out to these parts before?’
A waiter approached and guided them all to their seats.
‘No, I can’t say I have,’ she replied.
Ryan pulled a chair out for her and motioned for her to sit down beside him. He’d noticed the way Evan was looking at her now.
‘You know, you really look a lot like...’
‘What is there to drink?’ Ryan put a hand up for the waiter and signalled for a menu.
Evan seemed to take the hint. He took his seat and started pouring the three of them water from a jug full of ice and lemon.
‘You’re in for a treat, Madeline,’ he continued, ‘these are some of the nicest people on the planet. Always so grateful and patient. It’s harsh out there, you know?’
Madeline pulled her glass towards her. Ryan noticed her nails were drumming slightly on the glass. ‘So I hear.’
‘And they live pretty differently to how we do. Most have no idea that all this is even here, and even if they did they’d probably hate it.’ He gestured around him now at the opulent restaurant, with Rio de Janeiro’s Ipanema in their direct line of vision through the windows.
Ryan gazed out with Madeline at the swirling cormorants and emerald hills in the distance. The beautiful side of the jungle, he thought to himself, feeling a sudden twinge of familiar guilt.
He forced himself to think of something else.
He couldn’t help but wonder yet again what the story was with Madeline quitting nursing. Whenever anyone brought it up she looked as though she might run for the hills. He kind of understood how that felt, though. He’d been running for years.
He’d hidden behind deadlines and responsibilities, creating more work for himself than one man should probably have to deal with in a lifetime. But now it had caught up with him in the form of this woman—sent to spill his secrets to the world.
He motioned to the waiter approaching with the wine. ‘White, please,’ he said. He turned to Madeline. ‘You?’
‘Red,’ she said. ‘Just a bit, though, I don’t want to fall asleep at the table. I’m trying to outsmart my jet-lag.’
He smiled.
Evan was still talking. ‘Last time we were here we helped a little baby—just nine months old, I think. She had a temperature of one hundred and two and climbing...and she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. She had pneumonia...she was malnourished. If we hadn’t been there...if Ryan hadn’t been there...she would have been dead in two days.’
Madeline turned to him as a starter of fresh fruit was placed before her on the table, and he was surprised to notice the glistening of tears in her eyes at the mention of the baby.
Casual conversation about supply checks and sleeping arrangements at the camp kept them going as their starters were consumed and everyone’s glasses were refilled, and then, just as the waiters hovered on the periphery with their main courses, Ryan tapped his fork on his glass to silence the table.
He rose to his feet, dropping his napkin.
‘Ladies and gents,’ he said, smoothing down his white shirt and holding up his glass. ‘I’d like to thank you all for coming on this brand-new mission with Medical Extremes. Let’s welcome Pablo, our new cameraman from right here in Rio, who’ll be joining us where thousands wouldn’t and hopefully not capturing everything on camera. No one looks their best after living on bananas and tropical rain for a few weeks.’
He paused for laughter, which flittered around the table as he’d known it would.
‘I’d also like to introduce Madeline, here. She’ll be working on some writing and lending a hand wherever possible, so I’d like you all to give her the Medical Extremes welcome we give everyone and make her feel like one of the family.’
He raised his glass higher, but before she or anyone could say another word, a noise from the kitchen made the entire room jump in their chairs.
‘Fogo! Fogo! Fogo!’
The voice was female.
‘Help!’
Ryan just had time to see Evan grab his medical bag before they were both off their chairs in a flash, running for the kitchen. He made it to the back of the restaurant just in time to see the blaze of orange fire running up a woman’s sleeve—just before he plunged her arm into a nearby sink, under a gushing tap. She was sobbing.
‘What happened?’ he asked, and was flooded with a stream of Portuguese. The fire was gone, but a crowd of people in white coats and chef’s hats were all talking at once.
Evan was behind him, pulling out a sterile bandage from his bag as Ryan moved closer to keep the woman’s arm under the water. It was blistered and red, but he could already tell she wasn’t going to need hospital treatment—thank God.
‘I’ll go tell everyone not to panic—you got this?’ Evan said.
‘All good,’ Ryan told him, and watched him shoot back through the door.
‘She was pouring pecans into the chocolate mix when her sleeve caught on fire. That’s why they’re all over the floor.’
Madeline.
Ryan had only just realised she was there, too. She was holding the bandage Evan had given her and translating every word. He took the bandage from her, noticing the pecan nuts under his feet for the first time.
‘She says she’s worried the dessert is ruined. It’s been cooking too long now without being stirred.’
Ryan listened as Madeline spoke in Portuguese to the crowd and someone moved to stir the pot she was pointing at. She reached for a clean dishcloth, soaked it under another tap and handed it to him. On autopilot Ryan placed it over the woman’s arm for a moment, before wrapping the bandage