‘I’m sorry, Fi.’ Lizzie touched her arm. ‘It’s none of my business but I can see something’s gone wrong. Does it have anything to do with all that rubbish in the paper yesterday?’
‘Yeah. Kind of.’
‘I can’t believe Nick would do something like that.’
‘Like what?’ Run away to try and escape from a difficult emotional situation? He’d done it before.
‘Telling all those things about you. He should know better.’
‘He didn’t tell. He’s as shocked as I was.’
Possibly more. But Lizzie was right. Nick should know better. He should know that running wasn’t the answer. That he couldn’t escape who he was and he shouldn’t want to. It was time he did that final bit of growing up he needed to do.
Or was it just she who could see things so clearly today?
‘I’ll go and get him, ‘she told Lizzie. ‘In the Jeep. That will leave Shane here with the ambulance and I’ll have my radio if I need to meet him anywhere.’
She was upset.
He could hardly blame her. Lizzie must have told her he was stuck so she’d probably also passed on the news that he was planning to leave today. Right now she was staring at his backpack, propped against the wall behind the milling dogs.
It wasn’t something he could have told her over the phone, though. Not when he knew the sound of her voice would be enough to feed the doubts that had grown during the night. Doubts that he was strong enough—unselfish enough—to do the right thing and leave.
Hurting Fiona was the last thing Nick wanted but, seeing her pale face and the rigid way she was holding herself so upright, he knew it was too late. He wanted to hold her. To comfort her. He even took a step forward but Fiona took step away from him and it felt like he was stopped by a solid barrier.
The same barrier that had always been there?
Alistair?
‘So…’ Fiona bent to pat Tuck and Lass. ‘Who’s going be looking after these guys?’
‘It’s only till Wednesday. Hugh was hoping you’d be able to drop by and let them out and feed them.’
‘Sure.’ Fiona straightened and turned away. ‘You ready to go, then?’
No. He wasn’t ready but he had no choice. He shouldered his back pack into the rear compartment of the Jeep. He couldn’t tell Fiona why he had no choice because he knew what she would say. That she could handle it. That she had lived with ignoring the tabloid press in the past and she could do it again. She wouldn’t see that crack between them that was widening. That keeping the legend that was Alistair alive could only increase that chasm.
Fiona was silent, staring ahead as she concentrated on following the tyre tracks she had made on the way in.
‘It doesn’t have to be for ever, Fi,’ Nick said finally. Gently. ‘If I go away it’ll give you a chance to get Sam’s life back on track.’
Fiona snorted. ‘You won’t come back, Nick. You know that as well as I do. You’re running away. It’s not as if it’s the first time. What’s the problem, Nick? Reality chipping away at the fantasy?’
That stung. He wasn’t running away to protect himself.
Fiona thought he was.
‘Maybe it’s time I stopped believing in magic,’ he said, more to himself than Fiona. ‘Maybe it’s time I grew up.’
The Jeep bumped over a frozen rut. ‘It’s time you grew up all right,’ Fiona muttered.
She had every right to be angry but this was unexpected. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You have such a chip on your shoulder, Nick. You’ve got this huge resentment for your brother getting everything you wanted. Life is only going to be perfect if you can erase all the bad memories, but have you ever stopped for a moment and considered how bloody lucky you were?’
‘What?’ They were out of the deep snow now and on the main road but Nick barely noticed the smoother ride.
‘Your parents had some strange values,’ Fiona said, ‘and they screwed up their firstborn son by passing them on. You missed that. You got the chance to discover things for yourself. Important things about what really matters. You wouldn’t be the person you are today if you hadn’t grown up like that.’
‘I should feel lucky that my parents didn’t give a damn? That I only got the leftover love that Al didn’t need?’ Maybe the connection wasn’t as strong as he’d believed and Fiona didn’t really understand. Bewildered by the attack, Nick was also aware that this was going to make it easier to do what he had to do. He could buy into this argument. It might even be a relief to leave.
‘I don’t think so.’
Fiona ignored the dismissal. ‘My past has shaped me as much as yours has shaped you. I’m not going to forget Al, Nick.’
Of course she wasn’t going to. No one was. Especially himself.
‘Yes, he hurt me,’ Fiona continued relentlessly. ‘Badly. But I was lucky he came into my life. If I hadn’t met him, I wouldn’t have met you. We should both be grateful for that.’
Nick frowned. Having been ready to stand his ground, the wind had abruptly been taken out of his sails. She was lucky because she’d met him? He should be grateful to Al? That was something he had never considered. He’d been too young when he’d first met Fiona but Al had given them the chance to get to know each other, hadn’t he? Had made it possible to see past the barrier that the difference in their ages—or rather, their life experience—had made inevitable. He’d also provided the reason for them to reconnect.
‘And I wouldn’t have Sam,’ Fiona was saying now. Softly. ‘He’s a part of me, a part of Al and a part of you, too, Nick. He’s the past but he’s also the future. You don’t get a future without a past.’
The radio on the Jeep was crackling as a message came through but Nick was hearing only Fiona’s words. It was a novel idea, thanking those that had caused hurt in the past because they’d helped shape the present—and made the future possible.
Was that the way to forgive and forget? Or maybe to accept and forgive. Was there a way forward in this that didn’t involve him having to leave behind the woman and child he loved?
‘Can you repeat that, please? Message was broken.’ Fiona was holding the microphone attached to the dashboard radio. She reached to turn up the volume knob.
They both listened to the address being relayed and the priority dispatch to someone with breathing difficulty.
‘But…’ Nick was confused. ‘Isn’t that your address, Fi?’
‘Yes.’ Fiona flipped a switch and Nick could see the lights from the roof beacons reflecting on the snow drifts lining the road. She pushed another control and the siren began wailing overhead. ‘I just hope to God it’s not Sam.’
It wasn’t Sam.
Fiona couldn’t believe whom she found sitting on the front step of her house, leaning forward and struggling to breathe. She actually stopped halfway along the path that Elsie must have shovelled clear of snow. The heavy, portable oxygen cylinder she was carrying in one hand was forgotten. Weightless.
‘You bastard!’ Nick surged past her. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing here?’
Jeff Smythe was clearly in the grip of a severe asthma attack. His wheeze was clearly audible without a stethoscope. He was breathing at a rate of something more than thirty times a minute and he could only string a couple of words together at a time.
‘Want…to apologise…’
‘Too late for that,’ Nick snapped. He stood, staring down at Jeff, and Fiona could actually see the dramatic change in Nick’s features. The control of his fury and the compassion that being a doctor had made intrinsic was appearing, albeit with difficulty. ‘Let’s get that oxygen on, Fi. You got some salbutamol in this kit?’
‘Yes. Of course.’ Fiona moved. She set the oxygen cylinder down in the snow and unzipped the side pouch, looking for a nebuliser mask.
Nick flipped open the kit, hunting for the plastic ampoules of the drug that could dilate the airways in Jeff’s lungs and make it easier for him
to breathe. Elsie was standing behind Jeff, on the veranda of the old villa.
‘I told him to go away,’ she said anxiously, ‘but Sam wanted to show him his snowman.’
Fiona twisted the top off the ampoule and squeezed the contents into the bowl attached to the oxygen mask. She turned on the air flow and vapour began to pour through the mask. She slipped the elastic over Jeff’s head. Sam would have done that. Her son found it so easy to trust people. Her gaze landed on the man crouched on the other side of this patient.
So easy to love people. Did Nick have any idea what he was planning to throw away? The trust and love of a small boy? Her head turned towards her mother.
‘Where is Sam?’
‘Inside. Keeping warm. I didn’t want the cold to set off his asthma.’
‘Had this happened before?’ Nick asked Jeff.
He nodded.
‘Have you used your inhaler?’
‘Forgot it.’ His voice was muffled by the mask and the hiss of oxygen being released from the cylinder. ‘Scared…’
‘You’ll be all right.’ Nick’s gaze wasn’t as sympathetic as it could have been. He pulled a tourniquet tight on Jeff’s arm.
‘Had to come…say sorry…Jude won’t come…back unless I did…’
‘Jude?’
‘Girlfriend…’
Fiona dug in the kit and passed Nick what he needed to establish IV access. If this attack didn’t respond to the nebulised salbutamol, they would need to administer adrenaline. Intubate Jeff, if it progressed to a respiratory attack. Asthma was not something to be taken lightly. It could be fatal.
‘Don’t talk,’ she instructed Jeff. ‘Concentrate on your breathing.’
A snow plough ground its way past the gate with its orange roof light flashing. The red and blue beacons of an ambulance could be seen flashing right beside the plough. The cavalry was arriving.
Jeff was ignoring Fiona’s advice. ‘Trevor…old friend…visited…last week…’
‘And you told him you had a juicy story for him.’ Nick sounded disgusted.
‘No…Got drunk…Told him Fi-Fiona amazing…Trev got carried away…Thought he was…doing me a favour.’
Fiona was counting the words per breath. Jeff seemed to be finding it just a little easier to speak. She twisted the top off another ampoule and lifted the mask to top up the contents of the bowl.
Nick was taping down the IV cannula. ‘So where does Jude fit in to this picture?’
‘She read the article…remembered the rally…Wanted to find out how I was doing…We talked all night…’
‘Good for you,’ Nick said tonelessly. ‘You ever been in Intensive Care for your asthma?’
‘No.’
‘Had a course of prednisone in the past?’
‘Not for years.’
‘Is this a bad attack for you?’
‘Yes.’
‘I gave him Sam’s inhaler to use,’ Elsie said. ‘I probably shouldn’t have done that, should I?’
‘It was good thinking,’ Fiona assured her mother. ‘For a known asthmatic who uses the same medication, it was the best thing you could have done.’
‘It didn’t seem to make much difference.’
‘Feel better now.’ Jeff’s rate of breathing was slowing down a little.
Fiona had her fingers on his pulse.
‘One-twenty,’ she relayed to Nick. ‘Down from 140 a couple of minutes ago.’
A movement from the corner of her eye made Fiona turn. Sam was standing on a chair by the window, drawing pictures in the condensation.
Shane was coming up the path. He had Lizzie following.
‘We thought it was Sam having the asthma attack,’ Lizzie said. ‘Good heavens, I’ve seen you before.’ She stared at Jeff. ‘You’re the man who lost his finger, aren’t you?’
‘You’re that journalist,’ Shane added. ‘I’ll bet you had something to do with that trashy stuff in the paper yesterday. You bastard!’
‘I’m sorry…’ Jeff was looking up at Fiona. ‘I’m really sorry. Trevor’s a loose cannon but…I can make sure nothing else gets printed.’
‘You’d better,’ Nick growled.
Jeff was definitely breathing far more easily. The danger had passed but he was going to need observation for a while yet.
‘Take him down to the hospital,’ Fiona told Shane. ‘Lizzie, can you travel with him, please? Keep up the nebulised salbutamol. We’ll follow in the Jeep.’
‘Sure.’ Shane and Lizzie went to get the stretcher.
A tapping on the window caught Nick’s attention. Sam had rubbed enough of a clear space to see what was going on outside. He was waving happily. Nick waved back.
The stretcher was being pushed down the path when the small figure appeared from behind Elsie.
‘Uncle Nick, did you see my snowman?’
‘Not yet, buddy.’
‘It’s just there. See?’
Fiona looked, too. Three stacked balls of snow. Branches poked at drunken angles for arms. A carrot nose and stones made a lopsided, smiling mouth. Camellia leaves with nice, sturdy stems had been poked into the head to make glossy, green hair.
‘It’s the best snowman I’ve ever seen,’ Nick told Sam as Shane and Lizzie propelled the stretcher bearing Jeff back towards the gate. Then he caught Fiona’s gaze and lowered his voice to a murmur only audible to her. ‘Almost.’
And Fiona was propelled back in time. Back to the time and place she had realised how special Nick was. When they’d had that snowball fight and made their own snowman.
When she’d begun to love this man.
Had that been when Nick had fallen in love with her?
That’s what the message in his gaze appeared to be. Fiona couldn’t look away. So much had happened since then. They were different people but the love was still there, wasn’t it?
She could see it.
Feel it.
Fiona still couldn’t look away. Not until she heard the sound of the back doors of the ambulance slamming shut. And then Shane’s voice.
‘You two coming, or what?’
It took a couple of minutes for Shane to manoeuvre the heavy ambulance in a U-turn in the narrow space the plough had cleared. Fiona and Nick sat in the Jeep, waiting to follow.
Holding hands…
‘You’re right,’ Nick said quietly. ‘I am lucky. I should thank my parents. And Al. Especially Al, because he found you.’
‘I’m not chasing a ghost, Nick. If that’s all I’d seen in you, I would have run a country mile.’
‘You wouldn’t have taken me home? Let me meet Sam?’
‘I might have done that,’ Fiona conceded, ‘but I certainly wouldn’t have fallen in love with you, Nick. Your connection to Al and his world would have been enough to put me right off.’
‘It hasn’t been? Even after yesterday?’
‘I did a lot of thinking last night.’ Fiona held more tightly to Nick’s hand. ‘Yesterday was shocking because it made me remember just how much I hated that world and everything in it.’
‘You hated Al?’
‘For a while. Not any more. He was a product of that world and he needed to be part of it to survive. I don’t and I don’t want Sam to need it but, at some point, he’s going to have to make his own choices. I was just burying my head in the sand to think I could keep it completely out of my life.’
‘But you did—until I turned up.’
‘Yes. And I could have continued to do that. Maybe I would have, if the pull hadn’t been so strong.’ Fiona swallowed. ‘I love you Nick. I want to be with you. Not because of who your brother was.’ She held his gaze. ‘In spite of it. We belong together. You and me and Sam…’ Fiona’s eyes filled with tears, which made Nick all blurry. ‘Together,’ she finished with a wobble in her voice.
‘For ever?’ The word was a whisper of hope and a promise, all in one.
Fiona nodded and the tears spilled over. ‘For ever.’
And then Nick was holdi
ng her face, his fingers brushing the tears away. Then his lips were on her forehead, her closed eyelids…her lips.
‘You were right about something else, too,’ he murmured.
‘What’s that?’ Fiona’s voice was still shaky.
‘Magic happens.’
The honk from the air horn of the ambulance was an intrusion. Shane’s grinning face as he drove past indicated approval for what was going on in the Jeep. His thumbs-up made them both smile.
‘We should go,’ Fiona said reluctantly. ‘We’ve got a patient in there that we abandoned.’
‘He’s getting all the care he needs. Probably more than he deserves.’ But Nick was still smiling as Fiona slipped the vehicle into gear and pulled away. ‘Poor devil. He fell in love with you. Can’t really blame him for that, can I?’
‘He’ll be all right. He’s moved on already. Or moved back.’
Nick’s hand was on the side of Fiona’s face. A gentle touch that made her want to cry again.
‘Have we moved on, hon? Or back?’
‘We’ve just moved.’ Fiona could feel the misery of the last twenty-four hours vanishing, along with any doubts she had harboured. ‘Sideways, maybe. We’ve got to the place we need to be, that’s all that matters. The place we belong.’
‘For ever,’ Nick added firmly. It wasn’t a question but Fiona answered anyway.
‘You bet it’s for ever. I love you so much, Nick.’
I love you, too.’ Nick’s voice had the ring of assurance. The kind of happiness Fiona was allowing to envelop her. ‘Always have, always will.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE opening of Lakeview’s purpose-built, state-of-the-art ambulance station was a grand occasion.
A large crowd had turned out under the clear blue skies of a late Central Otago summer, nearly two years after Nick Stewart had arrived in New Zealand.
Maggie Patterson had the honour of cutting the wide red ribbon strung across the open doors of the large garage. Her proud husband—the medical director of Lakeview Hospital—was standing beside her and a huge cheer went up from the watching crowd as the ribbon parted and fell to make a silken river on the black asphalt.
Fiona Stewart leaned closer to the man standing beside her at the front of the audience.
Her Four-Year Baby Secret Page 15
