The Doctor Calling

by Meredith Appleyard

  The silence roared.

  ‘But what if I wanted you to?’

  Jake groaned. ‘Don’t say that, Laura. It’s difficult enough as it is.’

  ‘What is so difficult?’

  He stared into her luminous blue eyes. ‘I have nothing to offer you, Laura. I’m forty, of no fixed address. The U-Store in Melbourne where I leave my bike and other crap is the closest thing I have to a home base. I spend most of my time overseas in some of the world’s most troubled spots.’

  ‘I don’t remember asking you for anything.’

  He blew out a frustrated breath. ‘Laura, I know you’re smarter than that. I’ve got more baggage than the Indian Pacific, and you know it. I’ve never had a relationship that lasted more than a few months, I don’t know how. I haven’t even got the balls to talk to the dying man who was brave enough and generous enough to take on someone else’s unborn child, then bring him up as his own son.’ Jake could hear the bitterness in his own voice. Something compelled him to go on. ‘And what did that son do?’ He swallowed hard. ‘He’s a far better man than I’ll ever be.’

  ‘Jake, you’re a better man than you think,’ Laura said firmly, bringing him back to the room, back to her.

  She looked as wrecked as he felt, her eyes red-rimmed and shadowed. He threw back his head. ‘Listen to me. You’ve had a mongrel of a day, and here’s me dumping on you, preoccupied with what I need.’

  She went to him, pressed her cool fingers to his lips. ‘Enough, Jake,’ she said. ‘It’s late. You’re right, I’m so tired and drained I can’t think straight.’

  He didn’t trust himself to speak as he followed her to the back door.

  ‘Goodnight,’ she said. ‘We’ll finish this conversation when we’ve both had some sleep.’

  Before he realised what was happening she’d brushed her lips across his, tender, sweet, but with the hint of heat, of promise. Seconds later there was the clang of the side gate, the crunch of her footsteps on the gravel and her backlight flicked off, plunging the yards into darkness. He stood on the back step facing the house next door. Then, for his own sanity, he put all thoughts on hold and went inside to check on his dad, and to try to get some sleep.

  Laura lay in bed covered only by the sheet. She was wide awake. She visualised the cracks on the walls and the peeling paint on the ceiling, memorised from other times. She rubbed at the knot of anxiety lodged just below her diaphragm and tried not to think about Milt Burns, about the health centre, about Claudia Samuel’s blood results and what they might mean.

  But then thinking about Jake had her shifting restlessly in the bed. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. It had been a revelation. A revelation that made her ache with wanting. Damn him for being so noble, but she had to respect him for being so honourable, so honest.

  She folded the pillow around her head and tried to block out her thoughts. Sleep. She desperately needed the oblivion of sleep. Her phone rang, a muffled sound. She swore, threw back the pillow and fumbled for it on the bedside cupboard. The caller ID read Jake, not Potters Junction hospital, as expected.

  ‘I knew you wouldn’t be asleep,’ he said.

  ‘You’re not either.’

  ‘Wanna talk some more?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just keep thinking about – well, everything.’

  ‘It must be hard having to give patients the bad news. Easy for you to get bogged down in everyone else’s misery.’

  ‘There are good things too.’

  ‘Like?’ He sounded doubtful.

  ‘Telling someone they’re pregnant when they really want to be, that the tumour is benign and simple surgery will remove it. Or the person who’s been trying so hard to lose weight and does then gets their blood sugar and cholesterol down.’

  He laughed and the sound vibrated through her, right to the soles of her feet.

  ‘What are you laughing at?’

  ‘You, and the ridiculous notion that anyone in their right mind would give you the sack.’

  She rolled onto her side, curled her knees up towards her chest, the phone wedged between the pillow and her ear. ‘How come you’re not asleep?’

  ‘Neill needed help. I made him a cup of tea.’

  ‘Not more tea!’

  There was a shuffling sound on the line, like he’d moved his phone to the other ear, then she heard him smother a yawn.

  ‘Hang up, if you’re sleepy,’ she said.

  ‘Wide awake. You?’

  ‘Same.’ She shifted onto her back and swapped the phone to her other ear. ‘Hey, I’ve got an idea. I could sleep there and you could sleep here for a couple of nights. I could listen out for your dad. Give you a chance to get some real sleep. I could do it when I’m not working or on call.’

  When he didn’t answer she said, ‘Well, what do you think?’

  ‘Laura, listen carefully,’ he said. ‘Here’s what I think: thanks for the offer, it’s very generous, but if I ever sleep in your bed, you’ll be in there with me. And trust me, we won’t be doing much sleeping.’

  ‘Oh.’ She fanned herself with the edge of the sheet, the cotton whispering across her bare nipples. She could hear him breathing at the other end of the phone, imagined him lying in his chaste single bed. She pushed the sheet back and sat up. ‘We need to get some sleep.’

  ‘I only rang to convince myself you were all right.’

  ‘I am. Thanks for distracting me.’

  ‘Happy to distract you anytime. And Laura, I promise I’ll talk to the old man – to Dad, real soon.’

  They disconnected and Laura pulled on her robe and padded to the kitchen to get a cold drink.

  It was barely seven on Thursday morning when Laura stripped off her sweaty running clothes and slid under a cool shower. Christmas was just around the corner and she hadn’t done any shopping, sent any cards, or planned any food. It didn’t even seem like Christmas. But all that could wait – she had other plans for today.

  The run, followed by painting the first coat of sealant on the freshly sanded floor, would work out the stiffness caused by yesterday’s sanding. First coat today, the second one on tomorrow. In this dry heat it’d have plenty of time to harden. Then the furniture could be moved back in, and if Alice did drive up, the room would be available.

  She put on a load of washing and made tea and raisin toast when the phone rang. She picked it up, glanced at the display before answering. Milt Burns.

  ‘Could you work for me today?’ he said. He didn’t greet her.

  She glanced at the time, at her cooling toast, at the four-litre tin of flooring paint on the table. ‘I guess so,’ she said. ‘Pretty short notice, though.’ And this is the second time in as many weeks.

  ‘I know,’ he rumbled. ‘Something’s come up. I can’t leave the patients in the lurch.’

  ‘No, of course not. Are there any patients at the hospital I need to know about?’

  ‘Sybill O’Grady is in with lower back pain, but there’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. Unless you admit anyone.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ she said.

  ‘Fine,’ he snapped.

  ‘Okay, I’ll cover until eight tomorrow morning.’

  He disconnected.

  She gave the phone a disgruntled glare. He was a grumpy old sod, and getting grumpier. And what was it with all these things that were suddenly coming up? Any wonder Kaylene’s radar was pinging. Laura had yet to meet Linda, his wife, which in itself was a little strange. She stood at the kitchen window and ate the cold raisin toast.

  It took twenty minutes to water the herb pots on the back verandah and to hose the thirsty vegetable garden. At eight-thirty she called the health centre to ask Kaylene what time she was wanted, and then the hospital to ensure she didn’t need to detour there on her way to the health centre.

  The first appointment was at nine-thirty and all was well at the hospital.

  A white station wagon with government number plates was parked in Neill’s driveway w
hen she swung around the corner on her way to work. It was the outreach nurse, there to shower him and sort out his medication for the day. She had time, just, so Laura pulled in behind the car. She’d promised Jake she’d look in on Neill mid-morning, so it was best she checked in now. Jess was going to be there for lunch.

  ‘I’ve put him back to bed,’ said the nurse, Gayle. ‘He wanted to go back straight away. He’s getting frailer by the day. And then there’s the pain relief.’ She looked flushed, her fine blonde hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. ‘That bathroom is a nightmare,’ she added, swiping at her brow with the back of her hand.

  ‘I know,’ Laura said with sympathy, remembering the time he’d hit his head on the handbasin.

  Neill, who was fast asleep, was ashen, and even in sleep his face was screwed up with pain. Laura backed out of the room. ‘I won’t disturb him. I can’t stay anyway. Can you please tell him I can’t drop in later this morning like I promised? I have to work. I’ll ring his son. His daughter will be here at lunchtime.’

  ‘He shouldn’t be here on his own for that long.’

  Laura glanced back into the bedroom and for a moment it was her mother lying there, a mere bump under the bedclothes, and she was saying the same thing to her. I can’t stay long, I have to work. She blinked, pushed the lump back down her throat.

  ‘You’re right. I’ll see what I can do,’ she said and was scrolling through her contacts to Jake’s number as Gayle closed the front door behind her.

  Frustrated when the call went straight to voicemail, her message was a terse ‘Ring me.’

  Laura outlined her dilemma to Kaylene at the health centre.

  ‘Not a problem, Laura. Slip out between patients. If you hadn’t agreed to fill in they wouldn’t be seeing a doctor here at all today. I’m sure they’ll be happy —’ She stopped, gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘Well, perhaps not happy, but they’ll wait. I only wish I knew what was going on with Milt.’

  Jake didn’t ring back until lunchtime. She’d been out to see Neill at eleven, between a patient with bleeding haemorrhoids and a toddler who’d poked a pea into her ear. Neill had looked as if he hadn’t moved since the outreach nurse had left.

  ‘What’s up?’ Jake said. He sounded irritated and over it.

  ‘I’m at work.’

  ‘Yeah, Dad said when I phoned.’ She pictured him raking his fingers through his hair. ‘I’m stuck out here. A burst pipe now. First it was buggered pumps and now it’s burst pipes. Gotta fix it. Dry troughs mean dead sheep. I spent all morning looking for the leak. That’s why I didn’t get your call, I was out of range.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll look in on him between patients this afternoon. Tell Jess.’

  ‘Laura, it’s not your prob—’

  ‘Jake, stop right there. I’ll pop in about three-thirty.’

  Silence hummed down the line.

  ‘All right,’ he said eventually. ‘Thanks. I’ll get back as early as I can. Jess should be there now for the next hour or so.’

  ‘I’ll be free tomorrow and over the weekend.’

  ‘We can talk about that later.’

  ‘We can,’ she said and they disconnected.

  Laura sat on her own in the lunch room and forced the sandwich down her throat. Her heart ached for Jake. She remembered too well what it was like to watch a parent die before your eyes, to feel helpless, powerless to do anything to change it. And she’d had a good, loving relationship with her mother; she hadn’t been burdened with the tangle of blame, shame and regrets that Jake was. Plus he had the farm and Jess’s mess to deal with. Laura believed Jake was doing the right thing being here, but she wouldn’t hold it against him if right about now he was wishing he’d stayed in Turkey.

  ‘Jess?’

  ‘Darren. What do you want?’ Jess’s fingers tightened around the phone as she fought the urge to hang up.

  ‘How’re Sam and Mikey? I miss them.’

  ‘They’re fine. No-one forced you to go.’

  ‘You know I had to do something. The way we were living —’

  ‘How do you think we’re living now? After you took what cash we had, and our only decent vehicle?’

  ‘I know you’re angry, Jess, and you probably hate me —’

  ‘You have no idea, Darren. Why are you calling now? The boys are at school.’

  ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

  ‘Why would I want to listen? You had eleven years to talk to me. I had no idea you hated this place so much.’

  ‘I didn’t at first, Jess, you have to believe that.’

  Jess stared out the kitchen window. Her dad’s ancient Toyota ute drove through the gate by the implement shed and Skip was standing proud on the back. Jess’s heart leaped and then she recognised her brother at the wheel. Not her father. Tears blurred her vision.

  ‘Jake’s back, I have to go.’

  ‘Before you do, how’s your dad?’

  ‘Dying.’ She disconnected. She didn’t know if she wanted to laugh hysterically, cry or be sick. Or all three at once.

  The back door slammed and Jake appeared in the doorway looking hot and bothered, a battered old Akubra in his hand.

  ‘You’re back. How was Dad?’

  He went to the fridge and poured himself a glass of cold water, downed it in a couple of swallows. He looked at Jess, frowned, his gaze moving from her face to the telephone handset she was trying to crush.

  ‘Darren?’

  She nodded.

  ‘What the hell did he want?’

  Jess put the handset back in its cradle. ‘He wanted to talk.’

  Jake snorted, refilled the empty glass.

  ‘The boys miss him, Jake. We both know what it’s like to have a parent walk out. At least he rings. Mum never did. She turned her back on both of us and on Dad. It’s like she never really cared about us at all.’

  ‘I don’t think she did.’

  ‘She must have been very unhappy. I don’t know how else she could have done what she did. And I knew there was something wrong here, but I had no idea Darren was that unhappy. Have you eaten?’

  ‘Nope.’

  Jake pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down. Jess went to the pantry for the bread and began making sandwiches. ‘Cheese and tomato okay? There’s no cold meat.’

  ‘Anything,’ he said.

  She paused, knife loaded with margarine. ‘Was she happy when you went to see her? You know, after you left here.’

  ‘She couldn’t wait to see the back of me. I reminded her too much of what she’d run away from.’

  She arranged sliced cheese and tomato onto the bread, halved the sandwiches and passed them to Jake.

  ‘You’re not eating? Or did you eat with the old man?’

  ‘I don’t feel hungry.’

  ‘So how was he?’

  ‘He only wanted ice-cream for lunch.’

  ‘At least he wanted something.’ Jake took one of his sandwiches, put it on another plate and plonked it on the table in front of her. ‘Eat,’ he said. He went to the sink and put the kettle on. ‘No more problems with the house pump?’

  ‘No, thanks for fixing it.’

  ‘It’s only temporary. It needs replacing.’

  Jess picked at the food, forced it down. The bread tasted like cardboard. Jake put a coffee in front of her with milk and two sugars.

  ‘This farm is in need of a huge injection of money, you know that? Everything is just hanging together. What are you going to do with the place when Dad dies?’

  She looked up at him. ‘It won’t just be my decision what happens. Part of the property is yours. I’ve seen Dad’s will.’

  ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’

  ‘No, I’m not. We’re to sell his house, invest the money for Sam and Mikey, but the farm is ours. Yours and mine. I get a slightly bigger share because of Darren. For what that’s worth.’

  ‘Fuck,’ was all Jake said.

  Jess noticed the way his expression hardened, and kne
w there was no point asking him again what had happened between him and his father. He threw back the rest of his coffee and carried the crockery to the sink.

  ‘I’ll be out near Werner’s, fixing that section of fence. If your sheep get in with theirs, you’ll never hear the end of it.’

  ‘They’re your sheep as well. Do you want a hand?’

  ‘No. You’ll need to be here when the boys get home.’

  She watched him go. Jess had imagined he’d be glad to know he was getting something out of the place, after all the years he’d spent missing out because he was helping on the farm. He’d missed out on many things that teenagers did because of his responsibilities. Jess dropped her head into her hands. Could her life get any more complicated than it already was?

  Until he turned onto the main road, the late-afternoon sun almost blinded him. Jake still couldn’t believe what Jess had told him – part of the farm would go to him when Neill died. Talk about twisting the knife in the wound. He slammed the heel of his hand on the steering wheel.

  ‘Dad?’ he called as he walked through the kitchen and up the passage. He would discuss this with the old man now. Now he knew about the will he had to sort everything out, before it was too late.

  The front door was open and he could see through the screen out onto the street. Why wasn’t the air conditioner on? He went into the sitting room expecting to find Neill propped up in his recliner by the window, the radio on low. But the room was silent, the pillows and folded knee rug stacked neatly where his father usually sat. Jake’s heart skipped a beat. What if he’d already left it too late?

  He spun around, the anger he’d been holding on to since Jess’s gone, all sorts of scenarios fast-forwarding through his brain. He rushed to the bathroom, expecting to find Neill on the floor, broken, bleeding, unconscious . . . But it was empty. Christ. He had left it too late.

  ‘Dad?’ Louder this time, the word echoing in the house. The passage floorboards creaked as Jake rushed towards the bedroom. He pushed open the door, he took in the pile of pillows, the bed, and was sick with relief when his eyes fell on the mound in the bed.