‘What about the message?’ Emily reminded her.
‘I would not give any message to
you
,’ Nasima snapped rudely. ‘I will give it only to Zayed when he comes to me.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Emily murmured to the slender departing back, but she may as well have saved her breath. Anyway, the young woman’s pettiness didn’t matter when measured against the fact that she’d deliberately interrupted Zayed’s meeting.
Emily knew just how important the conversation going on in that room was. Those poor parents were being faced with a terrible choice and the last thing they needed was to be disturbed.
Repeatedly she replayed the expression of annoyance on Zayed’s face and wondered if she should have done more, if there had been any way she could have stopped his secretary from barging in like that.
‘Zayed…Ah, Mr Khalil,’ she corrected herself hurriedly when he finally emerged from the interview room, shocked to discover that she’d worked for Mr Breyley for almost a month without ever wondering whether she could call him by his first name, whereas, in her head, she was already calling this man Zayed after a single day.
‘In a minute, please,’ he said stiffly as he strode straight past her to his office and closed the door.
Her heart sank. He obviously thought it was her fault that he’d been interrupted, and if she were to say anything, it would look as if she was trying to shift the blame.
Still, it was important that she tried to set the record straight. She didn’t want him to think that she would flagrantly flout a direct request, so she went to stand outside his door, determined to catch him before he was called elsewhere.
She could hear the low rumble of his voice behind the door and even though she wasn’t deliberately listening to what he was saying, she quickly realised that there was no point even in trying. As his voice took on a louder, angrier note she could tell that he was speaking in his own language and she wouldn’t have understood a word.
Suddenly the door was snatched open and his secretary emerged looking much less than her perfect self, with her heavy eye make-up smudged and her flawless olive-toned skin blotchy with a mixture of tears and temper.
‘You!’ she snarled when she saw Emily waiting there, then let loose with what was obviously a flood of invective.
‘Enough! Go!’ Zayed ordered icily, his expression looking as if had been carved from Cornish granite.
Emily’s heart stuttered at the thought of having that much anger directed at her, but stood her ground. She knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, but…
‘Emily.’ The edge to his voice made all her nerves jangle while she waited for the verdict but, instead of inviting her into his office to detail his displeasure, she actually saw the slightest lifting of his ire. ‘There has been
a mix-up in the arrangements, so the two of us will have to go to St Mawgan to meet the plane. We will need to leave in half an hour. In the meantime, would you contact the human resources department and ask them to find me a half-competent secretary? I have fired my previous one for misconduct…oh, and for being a totally useless secretary!’
Her head was whirling as he turned and disappeared into his office again, but she had no time to contemplate the recent turn of events.
Her hand hovered over the phone at the reception desk but she wasn’t certain who to contact. She’d only been at St Piran’s for a month so had no idea how to go about requesting staff.
‘Problem?’ asked Jenna Stanbury as she consulted the long printed list of numbers for the various hospital departments.
‘I need to get in contact with Human Resources in a hurry,’ Emily said, concentrating so hard on her search that she didn’t consider how that would sound to someone else.
‘Oh, Emily! You’re not leaving us already!’ Jenna exclaimed, seeming genuinely upset by the idea. ‘What happened? Is it anything I can sort out for you?’
‘No, it’s not for me,’ Emily reassured her, feeling quite heartened that her new colleague was disappointed at the thought of her departure. ‘Zayed…Mr Khalil…asked me to find him a competent secretary.’
‘A secretary?’ Jenna’s eyes grew round and a broad grin spread over her face. ‘Whooee! You mean the fashion plate’s been given the boot, without getting her hooks into him? Thank goodness for that. She’s nowhere near good enough for him.’
‘Not that you’re biased or anything.’ Emma chuckled, glad to know that she wasn’t the only one who would be glad to see the back of the woman. ‘Now, tell me how to find her replacement, quick, or she might have to stay.’
It was amazing how the mention of Zayed Khalil’s name seemed to smooth everyone’s feathers. All Emily had to do was say that he was the one needing a secretary in a hurry and the woman on the other end of the phone sounded as if she was falling over herself to find him someone competent.
‘It’s unlikely that I’ll be able to find a bilingual one at such short notice,’ she warned. ‘Did he want to wait while I track one down or does he need someone straight away?’
‘He definitely needs someone today,’Emily stressed, determined that there would be no possibility of a certain person having a chance to talk herself back into the job. ‘The sooner the better, because we’re expecting three new patients to fly into St Mawgan and we’ll have to leave to collect them in under half an hour. If you’ve any idea of the amount of paperwork they’ll be bringing with them—’
‘Say no more,’ the woman interrupted decisively. ‘I’ll do my best for him, even if I have to juggle some of the other secretarial staff around.’
‘All sorted?’ Jenna asked eagerly, when Emily had put the phone down.
‘I hope so. She seemed to want to be helpful. Now all I’ve got to do is find out what I need to do to collect patients from the airport.’
‘There should be preliminary files on them, if Madam hasn’t made a complete mess of the system,’ Jenna said
with a grimace as she tried to access the information on the computer. ‘Most of them are referred by their own physicians in Xandar, so there’s a whole heap of stuff sent over to persuade Zayed to take them on.’
‘Wouldn’t it be better if they were treated in Xandar?’ Emily asked. ‘It would save them the stress and expense of having to travel thousands of miles to a strange country.’
‘It would, if they had somewhere suitable to perform the operations and someone of Zayed’s calibre willing to do the procedures,’ Jenna said sombrely. ‘Most of the ones who come over here are the children of the poorer people, the ones who live out in the more remote regions who wouldn’t have the money to pay for the treatment even if they could get to it.’
‘But…’ That didn’t make sense. ‘If they’re too poor to get the treatment in their own country, how can they possibly afford to come all the way to Cornwall?’
‘They have a wealthy benefactor who pays for them,’ Jenna said simply, then flicked a deliberate glance in the direction of Zayed’s office door.
‘Zayed?’ Emily breathed, shocked to discover this whole new layer to the man’s character.
‘It’s not generally known,’ Jenna warned. ‘He prefers that people just think he works here, not that he actually funds the unit personally.’
‘Wow! A man with deep pockets.’ She couldn’t imagine how much such a set-up must cost.
‘Very deep, hence his little gold-digger secretary.’
‘That explains a lot, but it doesn’t do anything towards getting ready to collect the new patients,’Emily pointed out.
‘Well, just hang on a minute and I’ll have some details printed out for you,’ Jenna promised.
She was as good as her word, and by the time Zayed emerged from his office again, Emily had three neat files of basic information prepared and waiting.
‘Ready?’ he asked as he strode towards her, shrugging his shoulders to settle his suit jacket perfectly into position.
‘Ready,’ she agreed, reaching for the files even as her eyes greedily took in the way the width of his shoulders filled out the smooth pale fabric and the way the cut of the suit emphasised his lean waist and long legs.
There was no way her own summery skirt and top could compare with his elegance but, then, having heard what Jenna had told her about the man, there really was no comparison between the two of them on any level. He was obviously a very wealthy man while she was still paying off the debts she’d amassed during her training. He was sophisticated and had travelled widely while the furthest she’d ever gone had been to London. He was doubtless accustomed to lobster thermidor prepared in a Michelin-starred restaurant while she was far more familiar with fish and chips wrapped in paper and eaten on the beach in Penhally.
This was no time for a pity party for one, she reminded herself as she followed him, his long strides meaning that she almost had to jog to keep up with him. Anyway, what did it matter that the two of them had nothing in common? There was never any likelihood that there would be anything more than a professional relationship between them, no matter what her hormones wanted.
‘You are thinking deep thoughts,’ he commented as he
bypassed the waiting ambulances and made for a sleek silver car.
‘Aren’t we going in the ambulance?’ She hastily avoided the topic of her thoughts. There was no way she was going to tell him that she’d been thinking about the impossibility that he would ever be interested in her in a personal way.
‘There are three ambulances,’ he said with a gesture towards the three long-wheelbase estate cars that had been specially adapted for use as ambulances. ‘Each one has a driver and a paramedic and there is room for the patient to be on a stretcher, in a wheelchair or sitting in an ordinary seat. There is also room for the parents to travel with their child, but there is no room for any extra bodies.’
‘So, why do we need to go?’ Emily asked as she made a mental note to find the time to take a closer look at those ambulances. From what she could see, as the three vehicles pulled out in convoy, each interior had been very carefully planned so that the paramedic would still be able to take proper care of his patient even while they were on the move. It would be interesting to find out how well they did the job and whether there were any drawbacks in comparison with the bigger box-on-wheels ambulances.
Zayed made an impatient sound as the three vehicles disappeared round the corner, not making any attempt to follow them, even though the engine of his car was already quietly purring. ‘I will be there to act as translator and to provide any medical help that the paramedics are not qualified to administer.’
‘So, what is my role?’ she asked, wondering what he was waiting for.
‘You are here to see how the organisation of these transfers is supposed to work, and to come up with any improvements that you can think of—and to provide protection.’
‘Protection?’ She blinked in surprise. ‘From what?’
He nodded towards something he was watching over his shoulder and she glanced across to see the scowling figure of his ex-secretary making her way towards them with a large wheeled suitcase and a bulging shoulder-bag.
‘We are giving Nasima a lift to the airport so that she can make the connection with a flight from Heathrow,’ he said as he released his seat belt. ‘She will be back in Xandar before midnight,’ he added with what sounded suspiciously like relief, then got out of the car to stow her luggage.
Emily knew the exact second the young woman saw her sitting in the front of Zayed’s car, and if looks could have shot poison, she would have been writhing in her death throes.
The journey took a little over half an hour and was one of the most uncomfortable journeys Emily had ever taken. Not because of the car or its driver, because both were excellent. No, it was the sullen black cloud sitting in the back seat that cast a pall over the journey, in spite of the fact that their route was taking them through some of the most beautiful Cornish countryside on a perfect golden September day.
At intervals, Nasima would mutter under her breath, but obviously not quietly enough to disguise what she was saying if Zayed’s stony face was any indication. Finally, he broke his silence, and Emily didn’t need to understand a single word of the quietly spoken tirade
to know that he was reading his former secretary the Riot Act.
It was a very chastened-looking woman who climbed out of the car at the airport and her tear-filled eyes as she gazed up at Zayed and her rapidly moving mouth told Emily that she was making an impassioned plea to be allowed to stay, but to no avail. Zayed silently unloaded her luggage onto a trolley, handed her a piece of paper that looked like an email flight confirmation and gestured towards the door.
The last Emily saw of Nasima Osman was the hate-filled glare sent her way before she turned and stalked into the building.
‘I am sorry about that,’ Zayed said as he settled himself back into the driving seat and started the engine. ‘Her parents are friends of my family. They were concerned for her safety when she said she wanted to work abroad and when they heard I was setting up the unit in Penhally they asked me to…’
‘Take her under your wing?’ Emily suggested when he paused.
‘Exactly,’ he agreed. ‘Except she was not happy to come somewhere so far away from the bright city lights and she seemed to think…’
He paused again and Emily was intrigued to see a wash of colour darken the high slash of his cheekbones. She almost chuckled aloud when she realised that he was embarrassed, but decided to spare his blushes.
‘She decided that if she couldn’t have the social life she wanted, you were going to be the consolation prize.’
Did he choke or was that a laugh, swiftly stifled?
‘Something like that,’ he admitted, but he seemed in
ordinately pleased that they’d reached the designated parking area for picking up incoming passengers. ‘Do you want to stay with the car or…?’
‘I won’t learn very much about the way you organise things from here,’ she pointed out as she released her seat belt and slid out of the sinfully comfortable leather seat. Once more she found herself trying to keep up with those long legs as he strode towards the plate-glass doors.
At the last moment he seemed to realise that she wasn’t with him and paused to allow her to catch up.