by Lucy Clark
How was that possible when, deep down in his heart, he realised she was and would for ever be his Molly?
Basically, he was in trouble.
*
Why had he come to her hospital? Was he intent on recruiting her once she’d graduated? Was that his main purpose? Or was there something else?
Molly tried her best to put Fletcher Thompson from her mind as she quickly had something to eat, changed into her pyjamas and closed the blinds. It might be only half past five in the afternoon but she was exhausted and tomorrow was a big day. Tomorrow she not only had to stand alongside Fletcher in an operating theatre with a gallery of people—including Roger—watching her every move but she also had to concentrate!
‘Oh, Fletcher. Why? Why?’ she moaned into her pillow before trying to relax her body. It took a good twenty or so minutes for her eyes to stay closed and her mind to clear.
It felt as if only a few minutes had passed before she heard a knock at her door. ‘Huh!’ She sat up in bed as the knocking sound came again. She glanced at the clock. ‘Six-thirty?’ Had she only slept an hour? The knocking came again and she quickly pulled a robe around her cartoon PJs and padded quietly to the door. What now?
It wasn’t until she opened the door—early-morning sunlight surrounding her—that she realised she had indeed slept for over twelve hours. ‘It’s morning?’
‘You see, this is the reason why I chose you to assist me with the surgery,’ Fletcher remarked as he walked past her into the house. ‘You’re so smart and always on the ball.’
‘What are you doing?’ Molly was still a little sleepy, a little off guard, a little late in stopping him. She closed the door behind her and followed him up the hallway towards the kitchen. It was only when she saw him standing at her kitchen table, unloading a bag of groceries, that she even realised he’d been carrying something.
‘I’m making us breakfast. Still like your eggs scrambled?’
‘Fletch.’ She sighed with impatience as she rubbed her eyes. ‘Why? Why are you here?’
‘We need to discuss the surgery. I need to eat. You need to eat. I thought we could multitask together.’ He was still moving around her kitchen, opening cupboards here and there, looking for different utensils before pulling out a chair for her. ‘Sit down, magnificent Molly.’ His tone was reflective. Molly tried hard to ignore the warmth that spread through her at the name, the one he used to whisper in her ear after they’d made love…but back then he’d said my magnificent Molly.
‘Fletch.’ She sighed again but this time it was with regret. Regret that things hadn’t ended well between them. She sat in the chair, too flummoxed to protest any further. She was hungry, she did need to know about the surgery and she knew of old that once Fletcher set his mind to something, it was extremely rare that it changed.
‘Excellent!’ He grinned at her as he started to prepare food, as though nothing had separated them, as though they were still together, as though he wanted nothing more than to spend time with her.
Was that why he was here? At her hospital? Living next door to her? Choosing her for the surgery? Was Fletcher interested in starting things up again? Was that even possible? The thought made Molly tremble with excited anticipation…as well as dread.
CHAPTER THREE
SURPRISINGLY, IT DIDN’T feel uncomfortable watching Fletcher make her breakfast. He started talking about the surgery, about how he’d discovered the need for the new device, about the earlier prototypes and how, through various tweaks, he’d ended up with the patented product now available to all surgeons worldwide.
‘Especially to those doctors working in Third World countries and other places where it’s difficult to get to a hospital.’
‘Such as Tarparnii,’ Molly said after swallowing her mouthful of the most delicious scrambled eggs she’d had in a long time.
‘Yes.’ He seemed surprised at this. ‘Have you been?’
‘Just for ten days, not as part of the Pacific Medical Aid team.’
‘You went there for a holiday?’ Fletcher’s eyebrows hit his hairline.
‘Cora and her husband adopted a little boy from Tarparnii.’
‘Really? Cora’s married?’
Molly smiled. ‘Stacey, too.’
‘Wow. Things have certainly been happening in the Wilton household.’
‘Stacey and her husband, Pierce, live in Newcastle with our three younger siblings.’
‘You have three younger siblings? I remember holding Jasmine. Your stepmother had more children?’
At the mention of Letisha, Molly nodded, a sad smile on her face. ‘She did. Jasmine is now almost seventeen.’
‘What? No. It can’t have been that long.’
Molly chuckled as she finished off her breakfast then sat back, feeling very full but happy. She was happy to be chatting with Fletcher again. They’d always connected, right from the very beginning. Even though he’d been dating her friend, Amanda, it had been she and Fletch who had chatted on the long, twenty-five-hour plane journey from Australia to England. They’d had the same sense of humour, liked the same music, read the same books. Plus, because Fletch had just finished medical school and Molly had just been accepted, he’d fuelled the fire, telling her how wonderful it was to really be able to help others in a practical way.
Even back then, he’d had plans to change the world, to reach out and help those less fortunate, to provide first-rate medical care to anyone who needed it, regardless of race, gender or financial status. She’d been enamoured with him and then, when he and Amanda had split up, Amanda refusing to go on the tour of Europe and the States, Fletch and Molly had stuck together, becoming friends throughout the tour. By the end of their time together, they’d become…much more than just friends.
‘So what are the names of your other siblings?’ Fletcher’s words brought her thoughts back to the present and she realised he was now beginning to clear the table. She quickly stood up.
‘Don’t do that. You cooked. The least I can do is clean up.’
‘Sit.’ He pointed to the chair before reaching for her plate. ‘Breakfast comes with full service—and a smile!’ He grinned widely at her, his eyebrows raised, his eyes open. The silly face made Molly laugh and she sat back down, deciding not to argue with him. Perhaps there was the possibility that they could maintain an easy friendship during his stay. ‘Tell me about your siblings.’
‘OK. Well, there’s Lydia, who’s just turned ten, and then poor, poor George who is twelve years old and, until Stacey married Pierce, had to put up with being the only boy in a house full of girls. When Cora brought her new son, Ty, home to Australia, George was so delighted to be inheriting yet another male and one that was younger than him, that he seemed to instantly mature.’ Molly’s sigh was more melancholy than sad. ‘Sometimes he reminds me so much of my father.’
Fletcher switched the kettle on to boil to make them both a cup of tea. ‘Isn’t that a good thing? Your dad’s so supportive, so wise.’
Molly lifted her gaze to meet his, staring into his face for a moment before sighing sadly. ‘Oh, you don’t know.’ She closed her eyes for a moment before looking at him once again. ‘Of course you don’t know. How could you possibly know?’
‘Know what?’ There was a hint of dreaded anticipation in his question, as though he instinctively knew she was going to deliver bad news.
‘My father and Letisha…they both passed away in an accident about six months before we turned thirty. Almost five years ago now.’ She shook her head. Her eyes were filled with sadness and there was pain in her tone. ‘I can’t believe it’s been that long already.’
Fletch pulled his chair closer to hers and sat down, taking her hand in his. ‘Oh, Molly. I’m so terribly sorry.’ He paused for a moment, then shook his head sadly. ‘Really I am. I loved them both. You must know that.’
‘I do.’ She gave him a sad smile. ‘They were both so easy to love.’
‘You poor thing. You’ve certainly had
your fair share of grief.’
Molly nodded, accepting his compassion but at the same time finding it increasingly difficult not to be affected by his fresh, spicy scent or the way she was unable to stop staring at his mouth as he spoke. She didn’t want to think about the way he made her feel, nor the memories he might resurrect if they started down the path of talking about grief. It was too much, especially with the surgery they’d be performing this afternoon. She made sure the lid was firmly on the box of pain she’d hidden away years ago and forced herself to break the contact.
‘Wh…er…what about you?’ She cleared her throat and folded her arms across her chest. ‘Uh…your parents?’
‘My parents?’ When he spoke, there was a huskiness to his tone. He quickly cleared his throat, as though he, too, didn’t want to go down that path, either. ‘They still live in Spain. We’re still estranged.’
Molly was mildly aware of computing his answer because all she could focus on was the chemistry that existed between them. How was it possible when they hadn’t seen each other for such a long time for the tension and attraction still to be as powerful and as prominent as ever? More importantly, how was she supposed to stand opposite him in the operating theatre with a gallery full of spectators and be expected to concentrate rather than staring into his gorgeous eyes?
‘I’ve always liked your eyes.’ The whispered words left her lips before she could stop them. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled and stood, needing to put distance between them.
‘And I’ve always liked your—’
‘Stop! Don’t say it. Don’t say anything else.’ She stood on the opposite side of the room, ignoring the way her body seemed to instantly ignite with a burning desire, the type of desire she’d only ever felt with Fletcher.
‘You’re right.’ He nodded, then raked a hand through his hair. ‘Actually, there is something I need to tell you.’ It was only fair she knew about Eliza.
‘No!’ Molly held up both her hands. ‘I can’t take any more, at the moment. I don’t want to rehash the past; I don’t want to talk about other important issues unless they have something to do with the surgery. I have enough to concentrate on for the moment, especially as there will be a gallery of specialists, registrars, interns and a whole plethora of other staff members, watching me perform surgery on Mr Majors with a device I’ve never used before.’
Fletcher nodded. ‘You’re right. You’re absolutely right. The talks we need to have can wait a while longer.’ He crossed his arms. ‘I guess it’s difficult not to fall back into old habits.’
‘Try. We’re both very different people from who we were back then.’
‘And there are a lot of regrets and hurts still between us.’ He nodded again. ‘I get the message.’
‘Good.’ Molly sighed with relief but wasn’t sure what to do now. She pointed to the kitchen table. ‘Shall we continue with the lesson…for the surgical procedure?’ she added quickly.
‘Yes.’ He turned on his computer tablet so he could continue with the instructions. ‘If you look at this diagram, this is the way to ensure the device is in the correct position.’
Molly stared at it, refocusing her mind so she could absorb the information. Not only would she be assisting Fletch during the surgery, but she would be taking over at the crucial moment. It was imperative she get it one hundred per cent correct. She asked him questions and pictured herself actually doing what needed to be done.
‘Is it serious?’ he asked a while later, his words soft.
She glanced up at him. ‘What?’
‘You and the physician.’
‘Fletch—’ She clenched her jaw and glared at him.
‘I know. It’s none of my business but I guess…I want to know that you’re happy.’
‘I’m not your concern any more, just like you’re not mine.’
‘But are you happy?’
‘Are you?’ she countered and was surprised when he looked away. She frowned. It was clear there was something going on. Fletch coming to Sydney, to her hospital, to her department—it was far too coincidental. She couldn’t stop the questions from bubbling over. ‘Why are you here, Fletcher? Why did you add Sydney General hospital to the end of your tour schedule? Does it have anything to do with me?’
He eased back in his chair and pushed his hands through his hair, sighing heavily. ‘The tour was already over-extended and we wanted to concentrate on going to a lot of rural and outback hospitals first, the larger hospitals second.’
‘We?’
‘Eliza. She’s my…er…tour manager, amongst other things.’ He mumbled the last bit.
‘Where is she?’
‘In Melbourne. Her father was diagnosed with kidney cancer. He’s just had major surgery to remove the kidney and now he’s starting chemotherapy. She’s gone home to be with him.’ Fletch stopped and sat forward again. ‘But to answer your last question, yes. My being here does have something to do with you.’
She watched the way he avoided making eye contact with her as he spoke of his tour manager. Clearly, after working together throughout the duration of the tour, they’d become quite close…but how close? Were they involved? At the thought, a pang of jealousy pulsed through her but she quickly shook it from her mind. She and Fletcher were nothing to each other.
‘It’s also why I asked Eliza to add Sydney General to the end of the tour schedule.’
‘Why?’ No sooner was the word out of her mouth than her phone rang. She closed her eyes for a second, the intense bubble she and Fletcher had been inhabiting broken by her crazy ringtone. ‘That’s Alexis’s customised ringtone. I need to answer it.’
‘Of course.’
‘Lexi?’ she said into the phone after connecting the call.
‘Mr Majors, your patient for today’s surgical procedure, is starting to get nervous and his blood pressure has actually increased. I thought if you could come and talk to him once more about the procedure, he’d calm down. I can call the anaesthetist now to come and review him if that’s what you’d prefer.’
‘OK. Thanks for letting me know. We’ll come in. Give me fifteen minutes.’
‘We?’ There was intrigue in her friend’s tone.
‘Fifteen minutes, Lexi. Bye.’ Molly disconnected the call, silently berating herself for the slip of tongue, before relating the information to Fletcher.
‘Good. Well, Dr Wilton,’ he said as he stood. ‘I think you’re as ready as you can be regarding this afternoon’s surgical procedure. Remember to ask me questions and I’ll talk you through whatever you need.’
‘Thanks.’ They both stood there, staring at each other again. She swallowed, trying to ignore the tension and the unspoken questions that seemed to be floating around them. ‘Uh…I’d better go shower and get ready.’
‘Yes. Good.’ He shifted awkwardly, pushing in his chair. ‘I’ll let myself out.’
‘OK.’ She edged towards the door, smiling politely as though they really were only colleagues. ‘Thanks again for your patience in explaining things.’
‘I’m a very patient man.’
Molly closed her eyes at this and shook her head. She clenched her jaw shut to stop herself from saying anything that would open the can of worms she’d just managed to shove the lid on. She looked at him once more before sighing and walking from the room.
Why did he scramble her thoughts as easily as he scrambled eggs? How was it possible that, after all these years, there was still an underlying attraction pulsing between them? They’d both moved on with their lives. She was seeing Roger and, although in her own mind it was nothing serious, until she and Roger had discussed more about the parameters of their relationship she shouldn’t be ogling other men, especially not her ex-husband.
She could remember all too clearly the pain and hurt she’d felt the last time they’d said goodbye. Even though they’d both changed, it would be ludicrous to even consider opening herself up to such loss and heartache
again.
‘It’s just not worth it,’ she told her reflection as she dried her hair, knowing she needed to get her curls under control so they’d be able to fit into her theatre cap. ‘It’s over between the two of you. Very over.’ She switched off the hairdryer and stared at herself in the mirror. ‘You’re a professional. You can do this. You can stand opposite him in Theatre and you can perform your duties with exceptional flair and expertise.’
With that, she nodded once and finished dressing, wanting to quickly stack the dishwasher before she left, but when she entered the kitchen, she stopped. The place was immaculate, the dishwasher humming quietly as it went through the cycle.
Molly shook her head in bemusement. Although Fletcher might drive her completely to distraction, send her body into a frenzy of tingles and excite her mind with his cleverness, he was also clearly very domesticated. Had he been like that before? She could well remember spending time doing the cooking and tidying with him, the two of them having fun, but in those days, those early carefree days, it hadn’t mattered what they were doing so long as they could do it together.
She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the good times to wash over her. Sure, in the beginning, she’d felt sort of guilty being so attracted to him, especially as he and Amanda had broken up, but, as Fletch had rationalised, he and Amanda had been growing apart for quite some time.
‘This impromptu holiday was our last effort to see if we wanted to be together,’ Fletch had told her two days after they’d arrived in London. ‘We didn’t even last the plane ride over here.’ He’d been sad but not upset. Amanda had already confessed to Molly before they’d left that she hadn’t been sure about Fletcher.
‘He’s living on the other side of Australia,’ Amanda had said. ‘That makes it difficult and besides, there’s this guy at my new job…Bobby.’
‘I thought you said he already had a girlfriend.’
