Читать книгу Midwives On Call: Stealing The Surgeon's Heart - Marion Lennox - Страница 14

‘HARRIET?’

A million adolescents would have given their entire year’s pocket money to wake up to that face, but when Harriet opened her eyes all she wanted was to close them again. She’d been back from Theatre a few hours now, but had slept for the most part, vaguely acknowledging the absurdity that Alyssa, who she had cared for the previous night, now lay in the next bed to her. The world was way too confusing to face right now, but any chance of a longer reprieve from her problems faded as Drew’s face came into unwelcome view. Everything about him revolted her now—the blond hair he faithfully had streaked to capture the surfie look, the spray-on tan that was carefully shaded to accentuate his gym-toned muscles. Squinting to focus, Harriet stared at the man who had caused her so much pain, the previous night’s events pinging in with alarming clarity. She watched as he braced himself for her stinging words, but instead of accusations she said the first thing that sprang to her anaesthetic-riddled mind, with no offence meant, but not caring if it were taken.

‘You pluck your eyebrows.’

Irritated, he shook his head as he stood up and pulled the curtains around her, clearly not wanting the scene made public. ‘Don’t be daft.’

‘You do.’ Running a dry tongue over even drier lips, she stared at two perfectly formed arches. ‘They look nothing like they did when we were first married. Can you open the curtains, please?’

‘Let’s just keep them closed, can we? The kid in the next bed has been hounding me for my autograph.’

‘And did you give it to her?’

‘I came here to see you, Harriet, not make small talk with some kid.’

With one hand holding her tender stomach, she reached to the table over her bed, declining his outstretched hand and choosing to get the small cup of water herself.

‘The nurse said you should just have a small sip,’ Drew admonished, making to take the cup from her, but Harriet gripped it tightly.

‘And we all know the respect you have for nurses.’ Defiantly she took another long sip before placing the cup back on the table and gingerly lying back down.

‘How did you know I was here?’ she finally asked, disappointed that Ciro had broken her confidence, yet understanding why he might have thought he had to.

‘I got a call on my mobile, someone called Susan. She thought I was staying in some hotel or something…’ He tried to take her hand but she pulled it away. ‘From the way she was talking I gather that you didn’t tell them what had happened.’

‘Do you blame me?’

‘I’m sorry, Harriet.’

He even looked it, tears glistening in his eyes, running a worried hand through his tousled hair, but, she reminded herself firmly, Drew was an actor, able to cry on demand, able to play the part of guilt-ridden spouse to a T if last week’s episodes of his show were anything to go by.

‘Are you sorry that you got caught, Drew, or sorry that it’s over?’ When he didn’t speak, she did it for him, asked what she needed to know. ‘How long has it been going on, Drew? How long have you been seeing her?’

‘It meant nothing,’ he offered, clearly confused when she blinked at him in disbelief.

‘And that’s supposed to make me feel better? You don’t get it, do you? You don’t understand that the fact she meant nothing just cheapens our marriage even more.’

‘Please, Harriet, if you’ll just let me speak—’

‘I meant what I said last night, Drew. You can speak to me through my solicitor.’

‘You don’t have a solicitor,’ Drew pointed out. ‘Look, we have to work out what we’re going to say. You might not think it matters, but when this gets out it’s going to affect us both. Harriet!’ he pleaded when she shrugged her shoulders. ‘You couldn’t bring yourself to tell your colleagues, so do you really want them reading about it in the newspaper?’

‘I guess,’ Harriet sighed, ‘we’ll just say it was amicable, no hard feelings on either side. And if we’re going to lie, why not add that there was no one else involved?’

‘When will you get out?’

‘Tomorrow probably.’

‘So soon.’ He gave a small look of alarm. ‘I’ll move into the spare bedroom…’

‘There’s no point, Drew, I’m not coming home. I can’t go back there, not after what happened.’

‘Do you want me to move out?’

It was the first decent thing he’d done in the whole debacle but, staring up at the ceiling, Harriet shook her head.

‘But where will you go? Who’s going to take care of you?’

It was a good question, one she had been asking herself since she’d first come to, but even if her bravado was false, even if she was terrified of what lay ahead, she damn well wasn’t going to let him see that. Pale blue eyes were proud and defiant as she turned her head to face him.

‘That’s no longer your concern, Drew.’

‘Is there anything you want me to do?’

‘Pack me a case.’ Swallowing hard, determined not to cry in front of him, she struggled to keep her voice even. ‘Just drop it off at the nurses’ station.’

‘Anything else?’ And maybe he wasn’t acting now, because his nose was actually running and there were tears in his eyes as maybe, somewhere deep inside, the ramifications hit home, that the Harriet he had known for so long now could never, ever forgive this. ‘Is there anything else you want?’

‘Nothing.’ She turned her face away, feeling a tear slide down the side of her face and into the pillow as an unwitting nurse swished open the curtain and Drew walked away. Harriet couldn’t really believe how much her life had changed in a few short hours, that after all this time her marriage really was over.

And as superficial and selfish as he could be at times, Drew wasn’t a complete bastard. Underneath all his hype there was still a glimmer of the man she had married, the man she had once loved. As he walked out Harriet heard Alyssa’s breathless voice call his name, listened with a pensive tiny smile as, even though he must be hurting too, he did the decent thing in the end—he stopped for a short chat.

Made another girl’s day.

‘Please, don’t tell me that I’m better off without him.’ Putting her hand over her face, trying to hold it all in, she didn’t even have the emotional strength to be embarrassed when Ciro walked in to check on the patients he had admitted overnight before finally heading home. The last thing she needed was a few empty platitudes. ‘Because I know that I am. I know it’s been over for ages. It’s just…’

‘Hard?’ Ciro offered, and Harriet nodded from behind her hand.

‘It gets better, I promise.’

‘How would you know?’ It wasn’t a particularly gracious response but she was past caring.

‘Because I’ve been there, very recently actually.’

Fingers parting, she peered out at him.

‘Were you married?’

‘No.’

‘Did you have surgery the night you found your partner in bed with someone else?’

‘No.’

‘Were your family on the other side of the country?’

‘No.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re going through, have I? I’ll shut up now.’

She gave a thin smile.

‘How you are you feeling?’

‘It’s painful, of course, but not as much as I expected it to be.’

‘I wasn’t speaking as your doctor, I was asking how you were feeling.’

Pale eyes squinted up at him. ‘As I said, it’s painful, of course, but not as much as I expected it to be.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t have to be.’

‘Is there anything that you need?’

Harriet shook her head. ‘Drew’s going to pack a case for me.’ She registered his frown. ‘He offered to move out, but I told him I don’t want to go back there. I’ll go and sort out my things when I’m more up to it.’

‘So what will you do now? Where will you go?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Harriet said with rather more confidence than she felt. She wanted him to just go, couldn’t bear to see the sympathy in his eyes. ‘Could you pull the curtains as you leave?’

And maybe some of it had been lost in translation, because Ciro did pull the curtains, but remained beside her bed, staring down at her for a while before finally talking.

‘Harriet, what will you do when you are discharged? I mean, who will look after you? Are you going to stay with a friend?’

Why wouldn’t he just leave it, why did he have to just keep pushing, making her feel like some sort of social misfit? It wasn’t as if she didn’t have friends, but, given the fact she’d only been in Sydney six months, they were hardly close enough to ask if she could borrow their spare room to recuperate. But instead of explaining, Harriet gave a tight shrug.

‘What about Judith?’

‘Judith?’ Harriet gave a slightly incredulous laugh.

‘She speaks very highly of you.’

‘Since when were you and Judith on speaking terms?’

‘I telephoned her last night about an hour after she went off duty.’ Ciro shrugged. ‘Our altercation left me with an aftertaste.’ Harriet didn’t even attempt to correct him, his poor English didn’t matter. That he had taken the time to call Judith and set the record straight, even though she had treated him so rudely, had her blinking in awe at his insight. ‘She said that you had already spoken to her and she was feeling much better.’ He gave a tight smile. ‘We both apologised.’

‘She’s as soft as butter really.’ Harriet smiled fondly.

‘And she was most concerned about you when she arrived on duty.’

‘I’m not asking Judith if I can stay with her,’ Harriet responded firmly. ‘I’ll check into a motel or something.’

‘Look,’ he said, as if it were open for discussion, as if she’d actually asked for his help, ‘I’m staying in serviced apartments. They’re very nice, right on the beach, there’s a gym, a pool.’

‘I’m recovering from an operation,’ Harriet snapped. ‘I’m hardly up for an aerobic workout.’

‘The rooms are serviced daily, the beds made, the dishes done—at least you could concentrate on yourself. Why don’t you think about it? It really is a good idea.’

‘I know why you’re doing this.’ Her blue eyes flashed, embarrassment making her angry. ‘Just because you’re the only one who knows what’s going on with my life, it doesn’t mean you have to step in. I’m not asking for help.’

‘And that is what is so annoying!’ Ciro retorted, his response equally sharp. ‘Why you have to make this an issue? And I know,’ he added before Harriet could, ‘that I said that terribly, but don’t correct me to avoid the issue.’

‘I’m not avoiding anything.’ Harriet sniffed.

‘Oh, yes, you are,’ Ciro responded. ‘You’re so damned independent, so damned used to coping with things by yourself, you can’t bear the thought of leaning on someone.’

Independent! Never in a million years would Harriet have used that word to describe herself. She was stunned that that was how Ciro perceived her. Up till then she’d assumed he was feeling sorry for her.

It came as a pleasant surprise to realise that she actually infuriated him.

‘Look, Ciro, we barely know each other. We’ve only worked together for half a night, it’s hardly enough to become flatmates!’

She’d never heard him laugh before, a deep, low laugh, and if she’d been embarrassed before, when he spoke next, Harriet was mortified.

‘Hardly. But I happen to know that the apartment on the floor below me has just become vacant.’

‘Oh.’

‘I could speak to the landlord for you.’

‘Oh.’

‘Would you like me to?’

When she didn’t answer, Ciro pushed a touch harder. ‘The rates are quite reasonable.’ Harriet’s eyes widened as he told her the weekly rental. Clearly, Ciro’s vision of reasonable differed from hers, but the thought of having the bed made and the vacuuming done, of bay views and gentle walks along the beach while she got her head together were starting to make themselves known. Fiercely expensive it may be, but over the years she’d been so boringly good with money, she’d somehow managed to support Drew and put a bit away for a rainy day.

Well, the rainy day had arrived and it was pouring.

Pouring.

Force-ten gales were howling, sandbags were out and it was time to strap on her buoyancy jacket—time to do as the emergency cards on planes said and look after herself first for once and stop worrying about everyone else.

‘There’s also a restaurant on the ground floor. They offer room service.’

‘Sold!’ Harriet said finally.

‘Sold?’ Ciro questioned.

‘That’s a yes, Ciro.’ She smiled. ‘Yes, please. It would be great if you could ask the landlord.’

‘I’ll come and see you tonight before the shift starts, hopefully with a set of keys!’

‘I haven’t got my bag,’ Harriet said. ‘Drew should be bringing it later today. I can write a cheque for the bond then.’

‘No worries.’ Ciro gave her a surprised look. ‘I’m starting to sound like an Aussie!’

‘No, Ciro, you’re not.’ Harriet grinned, and her smile stayed as he walked away from her bedside and stopped to talk with Alyssa, stayed as she lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and stayed despite the fact that this should be the worst day of her life.

There was absolutely no chance of dying quietly on EHU, no chance to lie in bed and lick her wounds. Instead, after her obs had been checked yet again and her drip was taken down and a post-op wash given, Harriet was walked the length of the unit by an eager, chirpy physio. She gingerly put one foot in front of the other and held onto her wound as the blessed woman reminded her incessantly to take deep breaths and to remember to wiggle her toes while in bed. Harriet caught Alyssa’s eye as she walked past. Declining the cheery suggestion to ‘pop back into bed’, Harriet chose instead to perch on Alyssa’s just as lunch was being served.

‘What happened to you?’ Alyssa asked, putting down the magazine Drew had signed. ‘I thought it was you when they wheeled you back from Theatre, but I couldn’t be sure. I mean, you never really imagine the nurses getting sick.’

‘I had my appendix out.’ Harriet smiled, but it changed midway as she winced slightly as she sat on the bed. ‘I’ll be fine in a couple of days. How are you doing?’

‘They’re admitting me to a medical ward this afternoon.’ Alyssa screwed up her nose. ‘They’ve put this horrible tube down my nose into my stomach and if I don’t eat my meals they’re going to feed me some disgusting supplement. I want to pull it out.’

‘It’s just a short-term thing,’ Harriet said softly, pleasantly surprised that Alyssa had even agreed to it.

‘That’s what Dr Delgato said.’ Alyssa sniffed, leaning back on the mountain of pillows supporting her tiny frame. ‘I wish it was him looking after me, not the stupid old fuddy-duddy that came and saw me this morning. He told me off for not eating my breakfast, he said that if I wanted to get better then I had to start eating, but it’s just so hard.’

‘I know,’ Harriet sympathised, wincing at the doctor’s insensitivity, knowing that for Alyssa it just wasn’t that simple.

‘Dr Delgato said that once I’m a bit stronger they’re going to admit me to the adolescent unit.’ Harriet heard the tremor of fear in the young girl’s voice, but any chance of comforting her was snatched away when a nurse deposited a large meal tray on her table.

‘Lunch, Alyssa,’ the nurse said firmly, removing the lid from the tray and pouring out a large glass of milk. ‘I want to see that all gone by the time I get back.’

And she meant well, Harriet didn’t doubt it, but it was just way, way too soon to even be talking to Alyssa like that. Seeing the sparkle of tears in the young girl’s eyes, Harriet watched as Alyssa pushed the peas around her plate, dug her fork into the mashed potato, stabbed at the fish dripping in butter sauce, not once lifting the fork to her mouth. ‘He said he’d come and see me on the adolescent unit to see how I was doing.’

‘Who?’

‘Dr Delgato,’ Alyssa said, and Harriet was hard pushed to keep the frown from her face. It was very easy to make promises, to tell a teary, scared patient when you were trying to placate them that you would be there for them, but it was another thing to see them through. In this case the damage that could be done if Ciro didn’t follow through could be very detrimental—trust was a very important factor with this type of patient. ‘He said that he’d come and see how I was getting on, that I just had to grin and bear it while I was on the medical ward, and that once they transferred me to the adolescent unit it would be better, that I’d be among people who understood. I know that I’m going to be here for ages. The doctor on this morning told me to forget about the concert.’

‘You’re not well enough to dance at the moment.’

‘I know,’ Alyssa admitted. ‘It’s not just the concert, though. If I’d danced well there was a good chance I’d have been given a scholarship…’ Her tiny voice wobbled. Her eyes screwed closed, Alyssa went on bravely, ‘Mum’s going to be so disappointed.’

There was nothing Harriet could say without crossing the line. In a single sentence Alyssa had summed up the complexity of her problems, the pressures, real or imagined, that had brought her to this point, the complex dynamics that fed this insidious disease. And there was so much Harriet wanted to say, so much she wanted to do. She wanted to delve deeper, to help unravel the complex puzzle, to untangle the knots that clouded Alyssa’s fragile mind, but a half-hour gossip on the edge of her bed wouldn’t suffice. Alyssa didn’t need an emergency nurse with empathy, she needed skilled specialist care, and Harriet knew that she must not complicate matters, must not, no matter how much she might want to, say anything that might jeopardise Alyssa’s treatment.

Knew that she wasn’t qualified to help.

‘Oh, come on, Alyssa.’ The nurse was back, frowning down at the plate. ‘You haven’t even tried. You know what this means, don’t you?’

And Harriet had to bite her tongue, knew it wasn’t her place to argue, so instead she took the tiny frail hand in hers as the plate was finally removed, stroked the translucent skin as the nurse set up the kangaroo pump, attaching a large bag of supplement to Alyssa’s NG tube and setting the dose before walking away. Harriet watched as with every whir of the motor a tear slid down Alyssa’s fragile cheeks, knowing, if not understanding, the torture Alyssa felt was being inflicted on her.

‘Dr Delgato’s right,’ Harriet said finally, gently squeezing Alyssa’s hand. ‘Once you’re moved to the adolescent unit you’ll be in the right place, you’ll be getting the help you need. Things will sort themselves out.’

‘Will they?’

Terrified eyes held Harriet’s and even if she wasn’t entirely qualified to answer, surely common sense could prevail.

‘With a bit of give and take,’ she responded finally. ‘From both sides.’