Just Friends to Just Married? Page 4

  Duc put his head in his hands. He was shaking it. ‘I can’t believe something so basic isn’t in place.’ He glanced back up, an incredulous look on his face. ‘How come this wasn’t done before?’

  Viv pressed her lips together. It wasn’t up to her to judge. She’d no right to. She was just an outsider here. All she knew was that some of the staff were out of their depth and dealing with cases that stretched their abilities. They didn’t have the back-up that was normally in place.

  ‘We need some safeguards.’ She put her hand on her chest. ‘And I need some safeguards. Have you thought about getting another obstetrician, or at least another midwife?’

  Duc sighed. ‘Of course. But my hands have been tied with red tape that I don’t understand. I am so out of my depth I don’t even know which way to turn.’ He held up both hands. ‘This?’ He looked around. ‘This was just a place to come and help out. Do a few ward rounds, prescribe some antibiotics, help with the occasional clinic. Cover the on-call so my mum and dad could have a few nights together.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘What I know about obstetrics I could write on the back of a postage stamp. I’ve spent the last two days panic-reading about emergency caesarean sections just in case it happens in the next few days.’

  He shook his head. ‘Have you any idea how long it takes to advertise a post, check someone’s credentials, then wait for them to give notice at a previous post?’

  Vivienne leaned across the desk towards him, put her head on her hand and raised one eyebrow, obviously waiting for the penny to drop.

  After the briefest of seconds Duc realised what he’d said. ‘Yeah, sorry about that. Did I wreck your chances of ever getting another job with that health authority?’

  Vivienne sat back and gave a half-hearted shrug. Truth was, she’d quite liked the place where she’d been working. The staff were pleasant enough, and she’d managed to rent a flat in a nice area. A flat that was now currently empty. Maybe she was getting old. It was the first time she’d ever really thought like that. ‘You know me,’ she answered flippantly. ‘Only take one job per health authority then I move on.’

  ‘Keep that up and you’ll eventually run out,’ said Duc. He was watching her carefully.

  ‘That’s why every now and then I throw a whole different country into the mix.’ She leaned right back and put her feet up on the table. ‘I was contemplating Ireland next. Probably Dublin. Anyway, I told my boss it was an unexpected family emergency. I might have left them in the lurch a little, but I’d just finished two weeks on call—and that’s definitely not allowed. I’d bent over backwards to help them cover shifts, and I worked hard.’

  Duc’s eyes clouded a little. ‘Family,’ he said softly.

  Vivienne gulped. ‘That’s what we are,’ she said simply. ‘At least, that’s what I think we are.’

  She meant it. Getting into midwifery college at seventeen had been a blessing. A year later her adoptive parents had died and when she’d tried to track down her birth parents it hadn’t exactly been good news. Her birth mother had died from cancer years earlier and her father had spent his life in and out of prison. She didn’t have any idea where he was right now. When she’d qualified at age twenty, she’d taken every opportunity that had come her way.

  Her salary was enough to rent somewhere reasonable in whatever city she took a job—some of the hospitals even had staff accommodation at reduced rates. Duc had been the one reliable, relatable friend she’d made along the way. Her ground level. The person she spoke to most. The person she always connected to.

  It was odd. Although they’d visited before, she was now seeing Duc in a completely new light. It was clear he’d never seen himself as an integral part of May Mắn hospital. His career aspirations had never been here. He’d always been focused on being a surgeon.

  But now? With his parents dead, she did wonder if he might reconsider.

  Duc gave her a sad smile. ‘Family. Yeah. It’s just you and me now. Maybe you should reconsider, I don’t know if I’m that lucky right now.’

  He stood up, pushing his chair back, and headed for the door. As he reached the doorway he paused and looked back at her. The circles under his eyes were so dark. He was still hurting. Of course he was. She was supposed to be here to take some of the burden. Instead, she’d just come in and heaped a whole lot of trouble on top of him. What kind of a friend was she really?

  ‘After the will reading tomorrow,’ he said slowly, ‘I’ll get to some of this stuff. I will. I promise.’

  He looked as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Tears brimmed in her eyes. She gave a stiff nod.

  He’d just lost both parents. How on earth could she expect him to think straight? If she really wanted to be a friend, she was going to have to step up.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE LAWYER’S OFFICE was unfamiliar. It took three attempts to find the correct street. By the time he got there, his shirt was already sticking to his back.

  Vivienne had agreed to come with him. She was wearing a thin, pale green long-sleeved blouse and dark skirt and heels—not her normal attire.

  As she stepped out of the car, her long red curls swinging, he could see heads turn in her direction. There was something different about a woman’s walk when she wore heels. Viv didn’t walk. She strode. Every step accentuated the cinch of her waist, the swing of her hips and the curves of her breasts.

  His footsteps hesitated and he pushed the thoughts from his head. Nerves. That was what this was. He didn’t think about Viv like this.

  She moved to his side, fingers touching his arm and her orange blossom scent dancing through the air towards him. ‘Are you okay with this?’ Her voice was laced with concern.

  He sucked in a breath. ‘I have to be. What other choice do I have? We just...never had the chance to talk about anything like this.’ His feet were rooted to the pavement. The air around him felt oppressive.

  Viv moved her hand and interlocked their pinkies in their old trade-mark move. She gave him a soft smile. ‘Friends for life,’ she whispered.

  He nodded, finding her words reassuring. ‘Friends for life,’ he repeated, and they walked up the stairs to the lawyer’s office.

  The man was waiting for them. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Dr Nguyen. I am just sorry it’s under such sad circumstances. I knew your mother and father for many years. I am Henry Quang.’

  He had a slight twang of an American accent. ‘Have you always worked here in Hanoi?’ asked Duc.

  He shook his head. ‘I have offices in Washington, New York and Hanoi.’ Duc nodded. Now he understood why Quang’s name seemed Westernised. In normal circumstances he would have introduced himself slightly differently but, as Duc had found himself, constantly explaining why in Vietnam surnames, middles names and forenames came in a different order quickly became wearing.

  The man gestured towards the seats across his desk. ‘Please, take a seat.’

  Duc’s stomach gave an uncomfortable flip. This all felt so final. He’d spent most of the last week living in a weird kind of bubble. He kept expecting his parents to walk back through the door. His father to be sitting in his office. His mother to come beaming down the corridor to tell him about a delivery. Or either one of them to be sitting in the kitchen in the bungalow, sorting out medical cover for one of the other hospitals.

  Now, sitting in their lawyer’s office, he knew things were finally coming to a head. This was it. This was where he had to stop playing make-believe.

  ‘I have to let you know that my mother and father and I never really had a chance to talk about their...plans.’

  Quang gave a solemn nod. ‘Believe it or not, Mr Nguyen, that isn’t unusual. In a way, you’re lucky.’ He realised what he’d said and lifted one hand, rapidly shaking his head. ‘No, I didn’t mean it that way at all. What I mean is that your mother and father planned ahead. Because they had r
esponsibility for three different hospitals, they put plans in place.’

  Part of him felt relieved. Maybe he’d been wrong to worry about things.

  ‘Okay.’

  Viv gave him a kind of forced smile. It seemed he wasn’t the only one nervous in here.

  The lawyer spread some papers across his desk, spinning them around to face Duc.

  ‘There are a number of properties. The three bungalows in the grounds of May Mắn hospital, the hospital itself. The second hospital in Trà Bồng and the third in Uong Bi. They also have several other properties. An apartment near May Mắn Hospital. A small house in the south of France and an apartment at Canary Wharf in London.’

  Duc gave a nod. He knew about all these places.

  ‘Naturally, the ownership of all these properties passes to you, Duc.’

  ‘All of them?’ He blinked.

  ‘Yes, as Khiem and Hoa’s son and heir, you are the only person named in their will.’

  Duc gulped. ‘But what about the running of the hospitals? The arrangements? They must have put some provision in place.’

  Mr Quang gave a tight-lipped nod. He pulled out a folder from under his desk. ‘Yes, they did leave a number of instructions. Mainly about practical things. Supplies, deliveries, bank accounts. Payroll arrangements and details of their accountant.’ He gave a sympathetic smile. ‘It is all rather complicated.’

  Duc leaned forward, trying to drown out the roaring that was currently in his ears. ‘But the hospitals. There has to be some other arrangements. I assumed...’ he ran a hand through his hair ‘...that they’d made some kind of provision—a long term plan. Arrangements for a board of some sort, or an oversight committee.’

  Quang shook his head. ‘Maybe they hoped you’d change your mind? Or, as you said, they hadn’t quite foreseen anything like this happening and assumed they would have plenty of time to put those kinds of arrangements in place.’ Quang gave him an almost impertinent look.

  ‘When I said they’d made arrangements, I was talking about the fact they’d even got around to making a will. Have you any idea how many people don’t get that far?’ He didn’t even wait for an answer to that question before continuing, holding up the folder. ‘This contains most of the essential information you’ll need for the safe running of the hospitals. In most instances this could take months to find.’

  He leaned back in his chair but left his hands clasped together on the desk. ‘The legalities of everything, the transfer of rights, et cetera, will, inevitably, take some time. Probably a minimum of six months. You won’t be able to make any major changes or...’ he raised one eyebrow as he looked straight at Duc ‘...or sales until that point.’

  A chill passed over Duc. This really wasn’t happening. It just couldn’t be.

  ‘But what about staffing? I have no obstetrician. If rights don’t pass to me, I’m assuming I can’t advertise posts for staff? And what about the bank accounts and payroll—are the staff supposed to work without getting paid?’

  The lawyer gave a smile, shook his head and shuffled some papers. ‘No, no, of course not. There are legal provisions for situations such as these—when there are hospital or medical facilities involved. Your parents had an agreement with the Vietnamese government about providing medical facilities within areas of greatest need. That allows some...’ he pulled a face ‘...flexibility, in order to allow the service to continue. It falls under...’ he lifted his fingers ‘...“emergency service” remit.’

  Duc tried to breathe in—even though it felt as if a clamp had just fastened around his chest. ‘That makes sense,’ he muttered. He’d heard about similar arrangements in the past.

  The lawyer pulled out some other papers. ‘You can recruit staff in order to maintain service provision.’

  Duc shook his head, waiting to see if Mr Quang would say anything else. But silence filled the space. ‘That’s it? Six months until the paperwork is sorted out?’ He knew his voice was rising in pitch, but he couldn’t help it. ‘I can’t stay here. I have a job—responsibilities. I’ve currently left a teaching hospital in Philadelphia without a resident surgeon. I’m part of a programme. A programme I worked very hard to be part of. Backing out now would virtually get me blacklisted from every other programme that exists.’ Panic gripped his chest.

  The lawyer seemed nonplussed. ‘I’m sure other staff have family situations that have to be dealt with. If you let them know what’s happened, I think you’ll find they will be quite understanding. And there will be other residencies—other surgical programmes.’

  ‘Spoken like a true lawyer with no understanding of the medical profession and just how competitive things actually are,’ Duc snapped.

  Quang acted as though he hadn’t heard. He pushed a few pieces of paper towards Duc and held a pen towards him. ‘I need your signature on a few items.’

  Duc stiffened. Hostility sweeping through him. A hand came over and squeezed his knee. He glanced sideways. He could see the tension in the muscles at the bottom of Viv’s neck. She was trying very, very hard to stay quiet right now. ‘What if I refuse?’

  Quang’s eyebrow moved a few millimetres upwards. ‘Your staff won’t get paid. Deliveries of supplies to the hospital will cease, and there will be no budget to pay for all the tests you send to the labs.’

  He had him. Of course he did.

  Duc snatched the pen from his hand and scribbled his signature on the three pieces of paper. The air in the office was stifling. He had to get out of there. He walked out without another word and strode back down the stairs. He could hear Vivienne’s light footsteps running behind him.

  But as he burst out into the bright sunlight, he knew immediately the error of his ways. The heat outside was every bit as warm as in the office. He couldn’t seem to catch a cool breath.

  ‘Duc!’ Vivienne’s voice was loud behind him and she clamped down her hand on his arm. ‘What on earth just happened in there?’

  The heat was starting to get to her hair. It was getting a little frizzy around the edges. And, from the look of Vivienne, she was getting a little frizzy around the edges too. Her mouth was set in a harsh line.

  ‘My career just divebombed out the window,’ he replied. He glanced around them. ‘Come with me.’ He grabbed hold of her hand and led her across the street to a franchise of a popular coffee chain. The air-conditioning blasted them as soon as they walked through the door. It only took a few moments to order some coffee and cake and take a seat in one of the booths.

  Duc could feel the sweat that had emerged on his skin instantly cooling. He undid the button on his collar and pulled his tie down. Viv undid the button on her collar too. Her thin gold chain was nestled against her skin.

  Before he could think, his fingers had reached across the table. ‘You still wear that?’

  On anyone else, this would be an intrusive move, but with Viv it felt entirely natural. His fingers rested on the chain and gave it a little tug upwards, revealing the gold butterfly with pale blue tourmaline stones in its wings.

  Her hand came up and caught the pendant. ‘Of course I still wear it,’ she said sharply.

  He’d bought it for her a few years ago for her birthday. It had been an entirely spur-of-the-moment purchase. He’d been walking through a shopping arcade in one of the more prestigious parts of Chicago when it had caught his eye in a window display.

  Viv had joked the year before that no man had ever bought her jewellery, but as soon as he’d seen the pale blue in the butterfly’s wings it had reminded him of the blue of her eyes. He’d bought and shipped it that day. It had gone clean out of his head until this very second.

  He dropped his hand and gave her a smile. ‘You told me no man had ever bought you jewellery.’

  She stared at him for a few seconds. He was well aware of the fact he was avoiding the elephant in the room, and he didn’t doubt for a se
cond that Viv knew it too.

  She leaned her head on one hand and dropped the pendant, letting it dangle between the curves of her breasts outlined by her shirt. She lifted her spoon and stirred her cappuccino round and round.

  ‘No man has.’ Her lips quipped upwards.

  He didn’t take the bait. Just stared at the random cakes he’d just bought sitting on the plates in front of them.

  Her fingers drummed on the table. ‘I guess this wasn’t exactly what you expected,’ she said softly.

  ‘Nope.’ The anger was still thrumming through his body. He’d loved his parents dearly, but he’d never expressed any interest in taking over from them at the community hospitals. They’d always known his plan was to be a surgeon. Why on earth would they not have made better plans?

  His hands clenched into fists. ‘This is a mess. A complete and utter mess. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be doing this.’ The last word was said through gritted teeth.

  Silence encompassed them.

  Viv wasn’t normally the type to keep quiet. Whilst she always had a good manner with patients, Duc had seen her stand up to arrogant colleagues, wipe the floor with rude medical students, and question incompetent methods at every turn. One question. That was all she’d asked. He glanced at his watch. They’d been in here more than ten minutes. The fact she’d been this quiet this long wasn’t a good sign.

  ‘Spit it out, Viv. I feel like I’m dangling from the cliff edge already. Just spit it out.’

  Her shoulders went down, and her chin tilted up. He still couldn’t get away from the businesswoman look she was sporting today. He’d always known Viv wasn’t someone to mess with, but today, with the smart skirt, shirt and heels, she looked like she was about to wipe out a whole boardroom.