‘...and you’ll need to consult with Hal’s doctor today, when you take him to the hospital for his check-up, to get some advice on how best to help him.’ Sam’s voice carried clearly as she and Kit came down the hallway towards the kitchen. ‘His knee joint and muscles were damaged when he broke his femur, and there’s a certain process you have to know. Don’t worry—it’s not difficult. I think it’s called the RICE technique, which stands for—’
‘Rest, ice, compression and elevation,’ Kit cut in quietly. ‘I’ve been studying quite a comprehensive first-aid book since I was told that Mr Treverne had a broken femur. I’ve also spoken to one of my trainers at the centre where I took my first-aid courses.’
She’d been studying a first-aid book? Even though he was irritated at being discussed as though he were a recalcitrant schoolboy who’d complained about having to miss his school’s sports day because he’d contracted chicken pox, Hal owned to feeling mildly surprised that his temporary employee would go to such lengths even before she knew if she had the job or not.
‘I’m impressed.’ Sam’s voice contained the suggestion of a smile.
‘Please don’t be. My intention is simply to do a good job. It’s no more than I would normally do when the person I’ve been hired to help is either recovering from an illness or an injury, Ms Whyte.’
‘Please—call me Sam. At any rate, I’ve spoken to Hal’s consultant about talking to you, so he’s expecting you to ask.’ They came into the kitchen. ‘You can also check with the nurse who comes in once a week to visit him. Oh, and one more thing—there’s also a cleaner who comes in twice a week to give the place a good going over. Mrs Baker is her name. So you won’t have to spend too much time doing housework. My brother’s welfare is your main priority. If he wants you to spend the entire day watching films or listening to music with him, then please don’t hesitate.’
‘Are you quite finished? Only I’m beginning to feel like some expendable extra in a hospital soap opera!’ Scowling, Hal returned his mug of coffee to the table with a heavy slam, so that the now tepid beverage slopped over the lip and splashed onto his arm.
Without preamble, Kit moved across to the sink at lightning speed and grabbed the kitchen cloth that was folded over the tap. Then she hurried over to him, expertly dabbing the cloth on his exposed forearm and drying the spill. It was fortunate that he’d rolled up the sleeves of his cashmere sweater earlier, he thought wryly, because the blue was a favourite of his. But he guessed that, if required, his efficient new helper would no doubt have a handy solution for removing coffee stains from delicate fabrics too.
‘Thanks,’ he murmured when she had finished the clean-up.
‘You’re welcome.’
Her blue-eyed smile was fleeting, but with a jolt of surprise Hal straight away intuited that when she smiled properly—for instance when and if something pleased her—the gesture would light up her face and render her almost bewitching...
‘Can I make you a fresh cup of coffee, Mr Treverne?’ she asked.
Briefly catching his sister’s amused glance over her shoulder, Hal shrugged. ‘Yes—why not? I guess I’ll be even more like a bear with a sore head if I don’t have my usual quota of caffeine.’
‘How do you take it?’
‘Black with one sugar. You should make one for yourself too.’
‘Thanks—I will. By the way, what time do you need to get to the hospital for your appointment?’
‘Ten o’clock.’
‘Of course. I remember that now.’ The redhead gave him another fleeting smile. ‘That gives us some time to have a general chat about things. For instance, you’ll need to tell me what car I’m driving. Is it big enough to accommodate your wheelchair? Because if you’re not used to using your crutches yet you’re going to need it.’
Not wanting to contemplate the possibility of not being immediately expert at using crutches, Hal was terse. ‘If it should transpire that I need the wheelchair—and I very much doubt it—then no doubt the hospital will supply one for my visit. The car you’ll be driving me to my appointment in has plenty of leg room and is easy to drive...that is as long as you’re a good driver?’
Again, if he’d thought to disconcert Kit then he was disappointed. With a confident toss of her head she moved over to the coffee machine and threw over her shoulder, ‘I took my advanced driving test last year and passed with flying colours...so you can rest assured that I’m a good driver, Mr Treverne.’