Free Heart Surgeon in Portugal by Anna Ramsay Page A

swinging her arms, kicking at tufts of coarse grass in the orange earth, stooping to pick a handful of yellow daisies for the green glass jug on the breakfast table. ‘I wonder if Vivienne would come shopping with me in that little boutique-y place down in the town? I really could do with some new gear…something a bit funkier, I need to look a bit more cool .’
    Yeah, right - look good for RH! teased that little voice in her head.
    Though she was so much older, Vivienne was très chic and had the stylist’s eye. She would see what would suit Ellie with her lack of inches and unfashionable curves.
    No, I’m not giving Mr Harland another thought for - for hours.’ Ellie checked her wristwatch, still talking to herself. ‘Listen to me, girl, no thinking about RH before bedtime. You’re beginning to behave like a romantic little fool not a level-headed graduate nurse. Just keep telling yourself you’ve come out here to do a job of work and to make a complete recovery. Hold that thought and everything will be fine. If you’ve got any sense at all - and nurses are credited with a super-abundance of the stuff - you’ll keep out of RH’s way, do what you’re expected to do and enjoy this working rest-cure for exactly what it is.’
    Overhead a plane left vapour trails across the brilliant sky and Ellie watched it till it disappeared from sight, picturing the tiny passengers inside, cooped up like sardines in a can, their belongings crammed into the overhead lockers ...
    A dialogue was starting up in her head: ‘Now stop that. Talking to yourself is getting to be a habit. Cut it out.’
    ‘When Rafe’s not around I can’t help -’
    ‘Oh, it's Rafe now, is it? No more Mr Big .’ The voice in her head was mocking and Ellie flushed beneath her pale gold tan.
    She was lonely, needed another human being's contact. Giovana might still be there in the garden…
    But the key was under the flower pot and Giovana back at the farm so Ellie decided that while Rafe was out, she would hand-wash her smalls and have them out of the way before night fell. In this climate things dried in minutes, any time of day.
    There wasn’t a proper clothes line because sheets and towels were laundered back at the farm, but Ellie had seen how Giovana spread the damp tea towels over the rosemary bushes. They smelled delicious when they had dried. So Ellie did the same, placing a delicate bra or a flimsy pair of briefs on each one of the line of rosemary bushes edging the path from the arched gateway right up to the steps to the main door. That very same path she had tottered wearily up that first fateful night when she had arrived.
    She stood back and surveyed her handiwork. There! In the soft warmth of the evening air they’d be dry before bedtime.
    She came back into the house through the big front door and it was only then that Ellie saw the post - two letters with her name on them placed by Giovana on the carved oak chest in the dark hallway. Her heart soared at the sight of her mother’s handwriting on a large manila envelope - the precious recipes at last! But the other letter sent a frisson of alarm racing through her veins. For there it was: Eleanor Sarah Louise Robey B.Sc., RGN. Her name in full, for all to see, written out in bright blue biro in the handwriting of Emma, a physio friend who worked at the same hospital as Rafe Harland and her brother Jon:
    Could Rafe have taken in the post? Was her secret a secret no longer?
    No, it must have been Giovana. Rafe had been outside for much of the day. And he had left the Casa via the side path. Ellie herself had watched him go. And wouldn’t it be more Rafe’s style to present her with her letters, saying nothing but taking a wicked pleasure in her obvious discomfiture …?
    It wasn’t so much that Ellie minded Rafe knowing the truth. It was more that he’d realise she’d been playing games with him. And he would take his revenge. The very idea made Ellie shiver and put on a grey