She shook her head. ‘The mainland is a four-hour flight away. The truth is it’s expensive, and it’s not just the flights. It’s the hospital treatment once you get there, and room and board for the families. It all adds up.’
He took a sip of the coffee, sighed and rested back on the sofa, closing his eyes for a second. ‘You’re right, it does. I guess none of us has really mastered the healthcare system yet of our countries.’
It seemed an odd thing to say. She let out a little laugh. ‘And why would that be our job? We just have to work in the system. Not design it.’
It was as if she’d just given him a sharp jab. His eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright again. ‘What? Oh, of course, yeah. You’re right.’
She frowned. ‘Dr Aronaz? Are you okay? Do you want to get some sleep?’
He shook his head. For the briefest of seconds he’d had that rabbit-caught-in-the-headlights kind of look. But he seemed to shake it off as quickly as it had appeared. This guy had a real talent for smoothing things over.
Something prickled in the back of her brain. Something vaguely familiar that she just couldn’t place. But before she could think about it any more, Philippe had turned to face her. ‘Hey, we haven’t had a chance to discuss the research project on wound healing yet. Why don’t you run me through it and tell me what you need me to do to assist?’
Of course. For the last few days there hadn’t really been a chance to keep things as up to date as she wanted. The project was proving really successful and it was vital she made sure the research was recorded accurately. If things worked out, it could eventually lead to better funding for the clinic. She had to keep the long-term goal in mind. She set down her coffee and pulled over a laptop from the nearby counter. ‘Sure, let me show you what we’re doing...’
CHAPTER FOUR
HE WAS TIRED. He was more than tired. But being around Arissa was keeping him on his toes. She seemed to be the adrenaline shot that he needed to keep going.
She’d checked his references—of course she had. But he’d been lucky that a quick call to the palace had resulted in them arranging an emergency visa for him to work in Malaysia—so all his credentials had been in order.
The research here was fascinating. The locally made, natural ointment was producing worthy results. He predicted as soon as this research was published there would be a variety of manufacturers vying for their attention.
Leg ulcers were a worldwide problem. Generally a product of old age, a deteriorating circulatory system and lack of mobility, they were one of the most chronic, slow-healing wounds to deal with. Philippe had encountered patients before who’d had leg ulcers for years that sometimes showed a few signs of healing, then broke down all over again. So far the ointment they were using on Temur Sapora was showing remarkable results.
The data collection was meticulous. He’d reviewed six of the patients using the ointment today, and another six patients who were being treated with an alternative ointment. Photographing the wounds, documenting the treatment plans and recording the patients’ observations had actually been kind of fun. It had been years since he’d been involved in any kind of research study, and this one had real promise.
He stretched his arms above his head as Arissa came into the room. ‘Are you done?’
She put a hand on his shoulder. He nodded. ‘Just finished. It’s taken me back to my student days, and I forgot how much I love all this stuff.’
She gave a tired smile. ‘I just wanted to say thanks. You doing this has given me a chance to review the kids I wanted to.’
He could see the tiny lines around her eyes. ‘All good?’
She pressed her lips together. ‘One is sicker than I hoped and doesn’t seem to have responded well to treatment. I’ve made some recommendations for changes.’
‘Would the kid have done better on the mainland?’
He could see her muscles tense. ‘Maybe. Who knows? But the rest of the family wouldn’t. There’s only Mum. And she has four children. If she’d taken her son to the mainland, she would likely have had to leave the others behind.’