Part 10 (2/2)

'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.'

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