The Surgeon's Perfect Match

by Alison Roberts

  And he wanted Holly to share that enjoyment.

  It was the kind of sharing that made life that much more meaningful. The kind of communication that came automatically when you were in the company of someone you got on well with. Holly knew, in that moment, that if Ryan made another offer of company when she was discharged from hospital, she’d already lost the strength to decline, no matter how many sensible warnings the rational part of her brain could issue.

  She hoped he would reissue the invitation. She was hoping it again when Ryan led the way out of the outpatient department just before 6 p.m.

  ‘So…’ He waved at the receptionist, tidying magazines in the waiting area. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Um…’ With a start, Holly realised she hadn’t heard the last thing Ryan had said. She’d been too busy wondering if he might use the time walking out of the department to return to their lunchtime conversation.

  ‘You haven’t heard a word I’ve been saying, have you?’ Ryan didn’t sound annoyed, though. ‘I’m talking about operating on someone with a right ventricular pressure of less than a hundred millimetres mercury.’

  ‘Um…’ Holly did her best to concentrate. ‘You mean Bella? I’d say she’s certainly symptomatic enough for surgery to be indicated, no matter what her pressure or gradient is.’

  Ryan was silent, as though expecting Holly to expand on her answer, but for once in her life Holly was not particularly interested in pursuing a professional discussion. She could feel the quizzical glance she received.

  ‘I’ve had the feeling you’ve had some other things on your mind this afternoon, Holly.’

  ‘Oh, was it that obvious? Sorry, Ryan.’

  ‘It’s quite understandable.’ He held the door open for her. ‘You were thinking about the possibility of a roast lamb dinner, yes?’

  Holly grinned. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘I didn’t.’ The door swung shut behind them with a puff of cool air. ‘But I’m glad I rang Pop before clinic and told him he’d better set an extra place, just in case.’

  ‘That was the best dinner I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.’

  Jack Murphy shrugged off the compliment with a gesture that was so like his grandson that Holly had to smile.

  ‘You were just hungry, that’s all. You need feeding, girl. Turn you sideways and you’d disappear off the radar.’

  ‘It was great, Pop.’ Ryan pushed his plate away and sighed with contentment. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘He only lives here because he’s too lazy to cook for himself,’ Jack informed Holly. ‘Don’t know why I put up with him.’

  Holly felt like she’d been smiling continuously ever since she’d arrived at the Murphy household. The bond and affection between these two men was obviously very deep. And the notion that Ryan would end up very like Jack in sixty years or so was fascinating. Jack might have lost a few inches in height but he was still impressively tall and he had a thick thatch of white hair that was just as shaggy as Ryan’s tawny mop. He gave off the same aura of kindness as well. His delight in Holly coming to visit couldn’t have been anything other than genuine.

  ‘The lad’s told me all about you,’ he’d said. ‘Mind you, I think he was just trying to put me off my game so he could win for once. Never stops talking, that boy. Don’t know why I put up with him. You need a bit of peace and quiet at my age, y’know.’

  Clearly revelling in a new audience, Jack had continued an almost solid wall of talking as he’d led Holly into the house. Driving in through what appeared to be acres of dark garden to arrive at this wonderful old house that sat within a short stroll to the beach of Herne Bay had been somewhat overwhelming for Holly, but within minutes of being in Jack’s company she had felt curiously at home.

  A piano she was led past had its surface cluttered with photographs.

  ‘That’s my son, Christopher. Ryan’s father. Handsome devil, wasn’t he? Do you play the piano, lass?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How about chess?’

  ‘I know how to play but I doubt I’d be up to your standard, Mr Murphy.’

  ‘Call me Jack, for heaven’s sake, girl. You make me feel old with that “Mr Murphy” nonsense.’

  Holly smiled agreement but her attention had been caught by another photograph. ‘Is that Ryan?’

  ‘Oh, don’t get him started.’ Ryan had been right behind his grandfather. ‘Pop’s opinion of the gear we use for fencing is not exactly complimentary.’

  ‘Well, look at him,’ Jack snorted. ‘All done up in skintight, fancy silver stuff. It’s girly, that’s what I say.’

  Holly had been looking at him. Couldn’t look away, in fact. The action photograph could have been anyone, with the face covered by a protective mask, heavy gloves on the hands and a thick chest covering of some sort. But Jack was right. The silver trousers were quite tight. Tight enough to see the definition of calf muscles as the figure lunged, one arm wielding a wicked-looking sword, the other held high in the air. Knowing it was Ryan was disconcerting. Had Holly seen the picture somewhere else, it would have occurred to her that the figure looked something like a medieval knight who had jumped off his horse for a jousting match. She would also have conceded that the action, quite apart from the strength and grace clearly being displayed, was astonishingly sexy.

  The shaft of what was these days a very unfamiliar sensation caught Holly totally by surprise and she groaned inwardly as she followed the two men into their kitchen. Along with the more platonic feelings for Ryan that were in that roller-coaster carriage, she now had to shovel in a disturbingly large quantity of sexual attraction.

  But at least that disturbing element of the evening had worn off by the time they sat down to eat and Jack was telling Ryan to stop interfering, he could carve the lamb himself, thank you very much.

  ‘Thinks he’s got the monopoly on using sharp things,’ he complained to Holly. ‘Probably just as well he’s going to see what it’s like on the other side of the fence soon. Be the first time he’s had a real operation.’

  ‘Does it bother you, Jack?’

  ‘As if my opinion counted,’ Jack huffed. But his expression, as he eased a generous slice of meat onto Ryan’s plate, was one of pride. Then he winked at Holly. ‘Who needs two kidneys? That’s what I say. Only got one myself.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘War wound.’ Jack nodded. ‘Caught a bullet that went straight into my left kidney. Hasn’t done me any harm. Look at me. I’m ninety-six and I’ve still got my own teeth.’

  Holly laughed but then Jack surprised her by leaning across the table and patting her hand.

  ‘I’m delighted that Ryan’s doing this. He’s a good lad.’

  ‘He is,’ Holly agreed solemnly.

  With that agreement, Holly found herself caught up in the bond that existed between Jack and Ryan. So much so that when she refused dessert she wasn’t embarrassed that Ryan started to explain why she had to be so careful with her diet.

  ‘Of course, if Holly comes to stay with us after discharge, you could do her one of those nice custardy things.’

  ‘ Crème brûlée,’ Jack corrected, but his attention was on Holly again. ‘You coming to stay?’

  ‘Holly’s family’s in Australia,’ Ryan said, before she had time to say anything. ‘I thought she could put up with your war stories for a few days while she’s recuperating.’

  Jack chuckled. ‘Just wait till they hear about this at the Returned Servicemen’s Association. Someone my age running a nursing home!’

  ‘I wouldn’t expect you to look after me, Jack.’ Now Holly was embarrassed and her blush deepened as she realised the tacit acceptance of the invitation her words had implied.

  ‘Nonsense.’ The direct look Holly received from the old man held a wealth of understanding. ‘I want to look after you, lass.’ There was a distinct twinkle in the faded hazel eyes. ‘You’re getting a kidney that’s got some of my genes in it. I say that makes you one of the family.’


  ‘Your grandad’s an absolute sweetheart,’ Holly told Ryan as he drove her home.

  ‘Yeah.’ Ryan sounded wistful. ‘I’ll miss him when he’s not around any more, that’s for sure.’

  ‘I guess every day’s a bit of a bonus when you get that old.’ Holly smiled as Ryan pulled into a parking slot outside her apartment block. ‘I bet you’ll be just like Jack when you hit your nineties.’

  ‘I’ll never be such a good cook.’ Ryan switched off the engine and turned to watch Holly as she unclipped her safety belt. ‘But I do hope I live long enough to get to know my grandchildren as well as Pop has.’

  So Ryan did plan to find someone to have a family with? To have children and grandchildren?

  ‘You’ve got the genes anyway,’ Holly said lightly. ‘You’ll make it.’

  Ryan’s soft words were unexpected. ‘You’re going to have some of those genes soon, too,’ he said. ‘We’ll both make it.’

  Holly had been reaching for the doorhandle but her hand dropped back into her lap of its own accord. ‘If I do, it’ll be thanks to you. There’s no way I can ever say thank you properly, is there?’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  Was it a trick of the yellowish light from the overhead streetlamp struggling to get through the curtain of rain or was Ryan’s gaze riveted on her mouth? For a moment, Holly could swear that Ryan intended to kiss her.

  And…Oh, God! She wanted Ryan to kiss her.

  She had never wanted anything so badly.

  The sound of rain on the car’s roof filled a silence that was measured by a heartbeat. And then another.

  ‘Would you do this for someone else, Ryan?’

  His eyebrows shot up. ‘Who did you have in mind?’

  The humour had always been readily available, hadn’t it? Was it, in fact, a cover for something else that Holly had never recognised?

  ‘There’s hundreds of people out there who are desperate for kidneys. Steve Mersey, for instance.’

  ‘No. I couldn’t do this for a stranger.’

  ‘What about someone you know, then? At work, say. Someone like Sue?’

  Ryan hesitated for a long moment. ‘No,’ he said finally. He cleared his throat. ‘I doubt that it would have entered my mind seriously if it hadn’t been you that needed the kidney, Holly.’ Another tiny pause. ‘You’re “it.”’

  Like a game of tag. Or hide and seek.

  But Holly had no desire to run. Or hide.

  What she desperately wanted to do was to ask why, but her mouth went dry as she saw what appeared to be an answer in Ryan’s eyes.

  Any rational thought that the emotional turmoil Holly was experiencing had created temporary insanity as far as Ryan was concerned was forgotten. The very real possibility that he could be sharing some of those feelings was suddenly the most exciting thing that had ever happened to Holly.

  Even more exciting than being offered the possibility of a normal life through a transplant.

  Holly’s heart thumped painfully but any other muscles froze. She couldn’t talk. Couldn’t look away from Ryan. Couldn’t move.

  He could. Very slowly and with infinite tenderness, he leaned over and touched Holly’s lips with his own.

  Just once.

  Just briefly.

  But it was enough to confirm what Holly thought she might have seen in that gaze.

  A reflection of how she felt about Ryan.

  Nothing needed to be said. This was hardly the time or the place. The moment after that soft kiss could have been awkward but the familiar way Ryan’s mouth curved into that lovely smile made everything seem perfectly fine.

  ‘Here’s to being ninety,’ he said.

  And Holly smiled back. ‘Bring it on!’

  CHAPTER SIX

  FROM now on, yellow was going to be her favourite colour.

  Anything golden would be welcome in Holly’s life. Like the daffodils more than one person had brought to brighten her hospital room. And those flecks in Ryan Murphy’s hazel eyes which were like tiny nuggets of gold. And…Holly blinked herself more properly awake and rolled cautiously onto her side to peer over the edge of her bed.

  Yes!

  The soft plastic bag suspended from the rail had at least three hundred mils of clear, beautiful, golden fluid inside it. Urine from a brand-new kidney that was already functioning as close to perfectly as anyone could have hoped. The catheter was due to come out the next day and Holly would miss the reassurance that bag had provided ever since she had come round from her anaesthetic to find it already beginning to fill.

  ‘Beats watching paint dry, huh?’

  ‘Ooh!’ Startled by the voice of the visitor Holly had not heard enter her room, she moved a little too fast to raise her head back to her pillow. An expression of pain was quickly replaced by a frown of concern.

  ‘Ryan! Are you supposed to be walking round by yourself?’

  ‘Someone nicked my wheelchair. Besides, I needed to break out.’ He was wearing a tartan dressing-gown over pyjamas and he moved carefully as he came closer, walking slowly with a slight tilt to one side. ‘Might sit down for a minute now, if that’s OK.’

  ‘I think you’d better.’ Holly could see a faint sheen of perspiration on Ryan’s forehead and he looked pale. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ It was just as well Holly was so used to picking up when he smiled beneath a mask. Every visitor to her room had to wear one at present because the anti-rejection medication she was taking made her more susceptible to infection and that was a complication nobody wanted to see her have to deal with. Even the daffodils in her room were encased in plastic bags.

  ‘I just had my first shower,’ Ryan told her. ‘It was brilliant.’

  He was certainly recovering at an impressive rate. And a little colour was creeping back into his cheeks now that he was resting so Holly felt her anxiety lessen. She hadn’t seen him at all on the actual day of the transplant but the nursing staff had delighted in taking dictation and delivering messages between their rooms. Yesterday Ryan had appeared in a wheelchair and now, only forty-eight hours after surgery, he was on his feet and moving independently.

  ‘So how are you doing?’ Ryan asked.

  ‘I feel fantastic. I’ve just had a lovely nap.’

  ‘You mean you haven’t been lying here since lunch watching yourself produce urine?’

  Holly just smiled. Ryan had been just as delighted as she had been when he’d spotted the catheter bag’s contents yesterday. The next visitor to Holly’s room was obviously amused to find both Ryan and Holly admiring the evidence of the new kidney’s function.

  ‘And I thought only us renal chaps took that much interest in that yellow stuff.’

  ‘Hi, Ken.’

  ‘This is just a flying visit. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Amazingly good. I’m a bit sore and tired but I don’t feel sick. I can’t wait to get out of bed.’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ the surgeon promised. ‘If you keep up such good results.’ He tilted Holly’s chart and nodded in satisfaction at the steady lines joining her vital sign measurements. ‘I won’t see you in the morning, though. We’ve got an unexpectedly big day coming up.’

  ‘Another transplant?’ Ryan queried.

  ‘Two, in fact.’ Ken dropped the chart and rested an elbow beside its clip, clearly keen to take a moment and chat to a colleague. ‘Big MVA at the weekend left a seventeen-year-old girl with critical head injuries. She’s been pronounced brain dead and the parents have agreed to organ donation as long as the rest of the family gets a chance to come in and say goodbye this evening.’

  ‘Good for them,’ Ryan said quietly. ‘That can’t have been an easy decision.’

  ‘The liver’s going to be sent to Wellington,’ Ken said, ‘but we’ve hit the jackpot with two close matches for kidneys. The heart’s staying here as well. In fact, you two probably know the intended recipient.’

  Holly got another nasty twinge in her abdomen as excitement made h
er sit up straighter. ‘Michaela? Is she getting the heart transplant?’

  ‘Is that a twelve-year-old girl with cardiomyopathy?’

  ‘Yes!’ Both Holly and Ryan spoke at the same time with exactly the same tone of eagerness. Then they looked at each other and Holly could see the same kind of joy that had shone from Ryan’s face after the successful delivery of Leo’s little sister. The same kind of joy he had transmitted only yesterday when he had been wheeled to her room to say hello in person.

  And Holly loved it that Ryan could be so happy for other people. She couldn’t stop smiling at him. Couldn’t stop the tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes. When he reached out, took hold of her hand and squeezed it, she squeezed right back.

  ‘Ahem!’ Ken sounded vaguely embarrassed. ‘I’ll leave you two to celebrate, then. Keep up the good recovery work, Holly. You can see how you go on your feet and I’ll check in later tomorrow.’

  ‘Thanks, Ken. Oh, do you know when Michaela’s surgery is scheduled?’

  ‘We’re all kicking off about 7 a.m. One theatre will be used for the harvest surgery and the two adjoining suites will be used for the transplants. One for the heart and the other for both my kidneys.’ Ken grinned. ‘Sounds good, doesn’t it?’

  It sure sounded good to Holly.

  ‘Theatre’s not far from here,’ Ryan said thoughtfully when Ken had left. ‘If I can walk that far, I might go and watch. That way I could keep you posted on progress.’

  ‘Oh, please, do.’ Holly hadn’t let go of Ryan’s hand but he was still holding hers just as tightly.

  A nurse entered the room at that moment because Holly was due for another set of recordings of her blood pressure, heart and respiration rates, temperature and urine output. Ryan left, but the magic of his touch remained long after his visit.

  No matter what the future held, Holly knew that she would never feel the kind of connection with anyone else that she did with Ryan. It wasn’t going to go away. She would have loved him even if she’d been a perfectly healthy bystander watching him go through this for someone else.