‘You don’t have to walk me to the car,’ Joanna said when they reached the foyer. ‘It’s just over there.’
He looked in the direction she was pointing and squinted at the few vehicles remaining in the car park.
‘The truck or the hatchback? My guess is the truck.’
She laughed. ‘Guess again.’
‘Well, if it’s the hatchback, it looks suspiciously like a limited model. Never mind the gentlemanly valour, my motive is to check out your wheels.’
She’d replaced the large family wagon she’d had when he’d left. The smaller car would be much more practical and the small but sporty model suited her perfectly. To his relief she didn’t protest when he began to walk with her towards her car and when they got there she turned and hesitated.
‘I’m glad I came tonight,’ she said in a voice that trembled slightly.
‘So am I. Maybe it’s something we can do again?’
‘Maybe.’
It was a maybe smile that hinted at possibilities, combined with the old sparkle in her eyes that he remembered so well, that suggested…He couldn’t resist. He’d just have to find out.
He touched her lips with his fingertips—simply to give her the opportunity to refuse—before he kissed her.
But she didn’t refuse.
The taste of her lips was a tantalising rediscovery of a sweet and tender place he’d thought he’d never experience again. Her skin was soft as fine oriental silk, her breath warm and laced with the slight scent of chocolate and Earl Grey tea. She exuded sensuality from every pore and he was certain she knew what effect she was having on his self-control. He couldn’t stop.
He nibbled her lower lip and then teased her perfect teeth with his tongue until she opened up to him.
Her eyes were seductively closed and the corner of her left upper lid twitched slightly. She held her breath while he deepened his kiss and their bodies pressed so close, Richard could feel the fluttering of her heart and the faintest whole-body tremble that set his own muscles into a state of tension that could only be relieved in one way. His hands moved slickly down from to her shoulders to her back and then to her softly rounded buttocks.
He wanted her so much but he felt her tense as if she’d read his mind. Her eyes snapped open to reveal a dark, agitated sea of uncertainty. She pulled away and took a sharp breath.
‘I can’t do this, Richard. I’m sorry but you shouldn’t even expect me to try. There’s too much at stake. You don’t know me any more. I don’t know you…’
She fumbled for her keys and opened her car door.
‘I…I shouldn’t have…’ Richard couldn’t find the words to express how he felt.
Already in the driver’s seat, Joanna looked close to tears and he couldn’t think of anything he could do or say to reassure her, to explain his impulsive actions.
‘Neither should I. Goodbye, Richard.’ Her voice was now as hard as steel, emotionless, painfully like the many times when she’d closed off the part of herself he’d so much wanted to reach, to comfort, to heal.
She was right. It had been a mistake.
‘Goodbye Jo,’ he whispered, but she already had the engine running and, with a squeal of rubber on bitumen, drove away into the night.
CHAPTER SIX
OVER the next week both Joanna and Richard made a very good job of ignoring what had happened in the car park of the local leisure centre on Monday night. No one would ever suspect there was anything more to their relationship than that between consultant and dedicated nurse. When Friday came, Richard bowed out of band practice and was glad he was on call the whole weekend. Fortunately he had enough to keep him busy to take his mind off thinking about his wife, who he understood was about to start working nights the following Wednesday after two days off. Though he’d miss her on the ward they wouldn’t have to keep up the pretence that their relationship was purely a professional one.
The fortnightly multi-disciplinary team meeting finished at about eleven and when Richard came into the ward, he didn’t expect to see Joanna. It was her day off. She was in the chemo suite with Danny Sims and his father, Lynne, Tracey, Kerry, half a dozen kids who were well enough to move from their beds and a very tall young man Richard didn’t recognise—who seemed to be the centre of their adoring attention. Richard poked his head in the door to say hello before he began his official rounds. He was curious to know what was going on.
‘Hi, Danny.’ He acknowledged the boy who was having his second chemo session and looked remarkably relaxed and comfortable, considering the high doses of medication being delivered.
‘Hi, Doc Howell.’ He raised his hand in greeting and smiled as if it was his lucky day. ‘You’ll never guess who’s here.’
‘Someone pretty special?’ Richard said. The boy’s delight was written all over his face.
Danny chuckled. ‘You’re not wrong.’
The towering young visitor turned and grinned. He was wearing a polo shirt with the state basketball team logo on the pocket but Richard had no clue as to his identity. He didn’t follow the sport and the fact that he’d been away meant he’d lost touch with a lot of the local news.
‘Hi, I’m Bobby Masters.’ He paused as if waiting for signs of recognition.
Richard offered his hand and Bobby shook it vigorously. ‘I’m Dr Howell, Danny’s doctor.’
The excited chatter that had filled the room a few moments ago suddenly stilled as if waiting for Richard’s acknowledgement of the obvious celebrity status of Bobby Masters. Richard wondered if he should admit he had no idea who he was or alternatively make a polite excuse and leave. He was rescued from his dilemma by Joanna, who was smiling broadly. She reached for Danny’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘It’s not every day you get to meet the captain of the Western Slammers, let alone be presented with a team jersey signed by all the players in last year’s premiership side.’
The uninhibited rapture on Danny’s face was impossible to ignore and his joy was contagious. He held up the basketball uniform covered in signatures and a photograph of Bobby, also signed.
‘Wow, I’m impressed.’ Though he didn’t share the boy’s obvious love of the sport, Richard was genuinely impressed.
‘It’s a privilege to meet you Bobby. And you’ve undoubtedly made young Danny’s day,’ Richard added, directing his comments to the basketball player.
‘I reckon he deserves a bit of special attention.’ Bobby then glanced at Joanna with a mix of admiration and youthful respect. ‘But it wouldn’t have happened without Joanna’s…er…Well, let’s say she can be extremely persuasive. She organised the whole thing.’
Joanna laughed. ‘Just doing my job.’
At that moment a photographer appeared in the doorway and Richard took the opportunity to make his excuses and leave.
‘I have to go now, Danny, but I’ll see you later to check how you’re going.’
‘Thanks, Dr Howell.’ It was Danny’s father who spoke. ‘Thanks for everything.’ He shifted his gaze to Joanna and looked on the verge of tears.
Richard nodded and slipped quietly out of the room.
Half an hour later he bumped into Joanna coming from the direction of the chemo suite, which was now quiet. The photo session had finished and the celebrity guest appeared to have left.
‘You knew this was happening?’ He directed his question to Joanna.
Danny’s father popped his head out of the parents’ room with a bottle of juice in his hand.
‘I heard a rumour she organised the whole thing,’ Danny’s father said, with a broad grin, rivalling his son’s recent rapt expression.
‘Really?’
Joanna seemed to have an endless supply of generosity and goodwill when it came to looking after her young patients, which extended beyond her usual working hours. She answered him with a wink, not appearing to want any recognition or praise.
For the rest of the week he missed having her around on the ward and it was obvious oth
er staff did as well without actually saying so. He’d hear them talk about her and leave messages in the notes for the night staff that were obviously meant for Joanna.
If he was early enough to catch her before her shift finished he found himself confiding in her about the day-to-day events on the ward. She missed a lot of the bread-and-butter happenings that were taken for granted by the staff working day shifts and seemed to relish information about things like how Rebecca’s dance classes were going or what Liam’s reaction was to having his whole year-two class come in for his birthday party.
There weren’t enough hours in the day, Richard mused, and the thought occurred to him that the time he valued the most was the time he spent with Joanna.
* * *
‘Come in, Richard. It’s great to see you again. I heard you were coming back to our fair city but I wasn’t sure when.’ Adam Segal extended his lightly tanned, freshly manicured hand in greeting.
Richard hadn’t been able to find any credible reason to procrastinate in initiating divorce proceedings and had made the appointment with his solicitor for late afternoon on his one half-day off for the week. It didn’t seem right, though, and more than once he’d considered cancelling the appointment and came close to missing it that afternoon.
He arrived just in time.
Though he considered himself an optimist, on days like today he believed there was a lot of truth in Murphy’s Law. He’d predictably got caught up with work, having to deal with Liz and Phillip Bryant whose two-year-old daughter had finally been scheduled for surgery. She was to have the tumour, which was rapidly filling her abdominal cavity, removed the following day and he’d ordered a transfusion to boost her low red cells prior to her operation. Unfortunately she’d had a rare, unexpected reaction to the blood and had slipped into severe respiratory distress.
The crisis had been treated and her condition stabilised in the few short hours after her transfer to the intensive care unit but the drama had tipped the balance of Liz Bryant’s already fragile mental state into what could be loosely described as borderline hysteria. He’d managed to calm her down but it had taken up most of his afternoon and the last thing he felt like doing was starting the onerous process of filing for divorce.
But it had to be done.
It wasn’t fair on Joanna to delay any longer. She’d worked so hard to make a new life, she deserved to be free.
‘Hello, Adam. It’s good to see you again too.’
‘Come through into my office.’
Richard followed the solicitor down a short corridor and into a spacious, tastefully decorated room with a huge window looking out on the Swan River.
Richard sat down on a leather-upholstered club chair while Adam Segal settled behind a highly polished, antique oak desk. He opened his laptop, pressed a few keys and then focused his attention on his client.
‘So what brings you here? What can I do for you?’
Richard realised the best thing to do was get straight to the point.
‘I want to divorce Jo.’
The elevation of the lawyer’s brows was so slight Richard wondered if he’d imagined it, but realised it was part of the man’s job to have the ability to turn body language on and off at will. He wrote something down in a ring-bound file and then looked up with the hint of a sympathetic smile on his face.
‘You know my area of expertise is company law and financial advice, not family law.’
‘Yes. I’m aware of that but I’d prefer if you could handle it.’
He’d known Adam for many years. They’d gone to uni together and Adam had met Joanna socially several times. He knew that shouldn’t make any difference, but it did. It somehow made what he imagined would be a brutally impersonal procedure a little more tolerable.
‘Mmm…’ Adam rubbed his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully. ‘I’d be happy to guide you through the process if it’s clear cut. Are there any possible complications? Custody issues? Property issues where there might be some dispute?’
‘No. No children and we sold the house not long after I left for the U.K. Joanna has her own, smaller home now and I agreed that she could do whatever she wanted with the proceeds of the sale of the Barclay Street place.’
The eyebrows definitely went up this time.
‘Generous,’ he said, and wrote some more in his file. ‘As this is obviously all new to you I’ll give you the family court booklet to read and the application papers. When you’ve been through those I’ll see you again and we can complete the application and organise to serve the notice on your wife. After that it’s relatively simple.’
Adam picked up the phone and pressed one of the buttons.
‘Could you ask Marie if she can get me the divorce application paperwork and then bring it in?’ He looked up apologetically. ‘You understand this isn’t my usual field.’
Richard felt a little guilty but then remembered his friend had never been shy of charging hefty fees.
‘Thanks, Adam, I appreciate it.’
The meeting was effectively wound up when the receptionist, who had taken his details when he’d arrived, came in with a folder. The lawyer handed them over after doing a quick check of the contents.
‘Perhaps you could make an appointment in about a week.’ He hesitated. ‘And I’m so sorry to hear about you and Joanna.’
I’m sorry too, Richard thought as he stood up and shook his friend’s hand.
‘I’ll make an appointment when I check my schedule for next week.’
* * *
When Richard arrived home, he felt exhausted. He discarded the folder Adam had given him, vowing he would go through it on the weekend and make another appointment after that, without delay. He had the feeling the longer he postponed the process of actually signing the papers that finally struck the death knell for his marriage, the less likely he would go through with it.
But it was what Joanna wanted. She’d made that perfectly clear and he had no valid reason to persuade her to try again…other than that he still loved her. He knew that for certain now. Yes, she’d changed and she’d made a new life for herself but, in a peculiar way, her newfound independence endeared her to him even more. Any doubts he’d had while he’d been overseas had vanished after the first conversation they’d had together. The problem was, he could never tell her because she didn’t need the added complication of dealing with his futile emotions.
The rest of the evening dragged painfully slowly and when he was just about to go to bed his phone rang. He glanced at the small screen on his cell-phone and recognised the number of Lady Lawler.
‘Hello, Richard Howell,’ he said, now fully alert and wondering why the hospital was contacting him. He wasn’t on call.
‘Hi, Dr Howell. It’s Barbara, charge nurse on Matilda Ward. I hope you don’t mind me ringing.’
‘Of course not. A problem with one of our patients?’
‘Er…’ The nurse hesitated and then cleared her throat. ‘Not exactly. I just wanted to have a quick word with you about Joanna Raven.’
‘Joanna?’ His heart rate quickened and he swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. Why on earth would she want to talk to him about Jo? At ten-thirty at night. Had something happened to her?
‘Yes. I may be concerned unnecessarily but she spent over an hour this evening talking to Danny Sims’s mother on the phone. When she finally finished, Jo seemed close to tears and without any explanation she took off for about fifteen minutes. She’s never done anything like that before and if I stuck strictly to staff protocols I should report the incident to the director of nursing.’
‘That seems harsh.’
‘I know, and when she came back she was fine, perfectly composed. I just thought you should know and maybe have a word with her, if you have a moment. You’ve spent a lot of time with the Sims family and know them better than anyone. You and Jo seem to get on really well together as well. I know she holds you in high regard. She refused to admit anything was wron
g to me. Said she just needed to go to the toilet in a hurry, but I’ve known her long enough to suspect there’s more to it than that. In fact, she’s been a bit edgy all week.’
‘Okay, I’ll speak to her tomorrow. Her shift finishes at seven?’
‘That’s right.’
‘So she’ll probably want to get some sleep during the day.’ Much as he would have liked to jump in his car and drive to the hospital straight away, he realised he was overreacting. He’d try and call her some time during the following afternoon. ‘I’ll certainly have a quiet word with her tomorrow, if I can.’
‘Thanks Dr Howell. I wasn’t sure what else to do.’
‘You did the right thing to ring me.’
Richard spent a restless night, drifting in and out of sleep in between thinking of Joanna and speculating about what it was concerning the Sims family that had upset her. If it was because Danny had the same tumour that had taken the life of their son he definitely needed to discuss the problem with her on a professional as well as a personal level.
The last time he looked at his bedside clock it was 5:00 a.m. and, after what only seemed like a few moments, the buzz of his alarm jolted him out of his slumbers.
The beginning of another day.
* * *
Despite the fact Joanna was so tired she could hardly put one foot in front of the other, she couldn’t get to sleep. First, it was an uncomfortably humid day and a lukewarm shower did little to either cool her down or refresh her. Second, she seemed hyper-alert to every sound in her usually quiet neighbourhood that morning. First it was the garbage truck, then a mob of raucous laughing kookaburras and she finally gave up when the noise of chainsaws pruning street trees started at about eight-thirty. And, of course, this was all superimposed on the underlying unsettled feeling she’d had since Jenny Sims had phoned and asked her if she could explain some of the things she and her husband didn’t understand about Danny’s illness, including his prognosis.
Of course her answer had been that they should discuss any queries they had with the doctor, but then Jenny, with Pete in the background, had launched into a heart-wrenching account of how they blamed themselves for their son’s illness. They should have known something was wrong when Danny had developed back pain after the school athletics carnival; they’d ignored the fact that he’d complained of tiredness, thinking it was purely due to a growth spurt and starting at a new school; when he’d seemed to lose his usually voracious appetite they’d assumed he was pigging out on junk food after school. Jenny also felt guilty about commencing full-time work at the beginning of the year when Danny had started high school, and they both believed their GP had waited too long before ordering X-rays.
How To Save a Marriage in a Million Page 9
