And because they were stretched, because coronary-care beds were as rare as hen’s teeth, Peter didn’t make it to the next ward round. In fact, he barely made it to the lift before his bed was stripped and made up for the next occupant. Instead, he sat in his own chair, bemoaning the boiled, saltless chicken Carmel had lovingly prepared for him as Isla reeled at the speed of it all, reeled not only that her father, so sick, so fragile, was home but that her temporary crutch was gone, that injury time was well and truly over now and a penalty shootout was waiting.
‘What are you doing?’ Walking into the bedroom, she stiffened as Sav zipped up a toiletry bag.
‘The same as last time, only this time it’s for good.’
One-nil to Sav.
‘I thought you said you’d wait—’
‘And I did wait.’ Plunging the bag into a suit cover, he finally looked at her. ‘Your dad’s fine. We can’t baby him for ever.’
‘I’m not babying him. He’s just got out of hospital. How on earth do you think this news will affect him? How the hell—?’
‘Hopefully he’ll find out a little more gently that our marriage is over than I did.’
Two-nil to Sav.
‘Mummy.’ A loud rap on the door had them both on high alert, Sav stiff and awkward as Harry and Luke walked in.
‘What’s the problem, guys?’ Sav’s voice was a poor attempt at normality as Luke held up his hand.
‘Luke’s got a blister.’
‘Come here.’ Ignoring the awful atmosphere, Isla attempted to focus on her son, probing the white blister on his hand. ‘When did this happen?’
‘Dunno.’ Luke shrugged.
‘She’s getting a pin.’ Harry grinned as Isla headed for the door.
‘Let me see.’ Taking his son’s hand, Sav looked at it closely. ‘It’s a simple blister. All it needs is a sticking plaster.’
‘It needs to be lanced,’ Isla snarled through gritted teeth.
‘You don’t disturb blisters.’ For the sake of the boys Sav’s voice was even, but his eyes were dark as he eyed her across the room. ‘A blister is nature’s way of—’
‘In an ideal world perhaps, but he’s a seven-year-old boy.’ Isla’s lips were white. ‘The sticking plaster will come off by the morning, he’ll burst the blister. It’s better to do it this way.’
‘Leave it,’ Sav insisted.
‘To fester?’ Isla looked up sharply and suddenly they weren’t talking about a tiny blister. ‘Cover it up and hope that it heals?’
‘Better than exposing a raw wound,’ Sav bit back.
‘So who’s right?’ Luke looked up expectantly, his blue eyes swivelling from one to the other.
‘The doctor or the nurse?’ Harry added, just to splash another dollop of fuel on the fire.
‘I’ll get a sticking plaster.’ Isla stood up and brushed past him. ‘Though the way this house runs, I’m surprised we’ve got any left.’
‘Can we read?’ Happy with his plaster, Luke jumped off the bed. ‘Just for five minutes?’
‘It’s time you were asleep,’ Sav’s voice was suddenly thick. He grabbed the boys in a huge hug and kissed them hard.
‘Please, Dad?’
‘No.’ His eyes caught on the book Harry was holding, the bright cut-out shapes adorning the cover, a happy teddy smiling in the middle. ‘What are you doing, reading that?’ He took the book, turned it over in his hand. ‘You’re way past this. Why are you getting baby books from the library?’
‘We like them.’ Harry swallowed hard, staring nervously at Isla, his eyes sending a silent plea for help.
‘Sav.’ Isla’s voice was a croak. ‘Leave it.’
‘But this is for a four-year-old.’
‘Go to bed, boys.’ Retrieving the book, she handed it to Harry, kissed them both and watched as they scampered down the hall.
‘Isla, don’t undermine me like that. The boys are seven. They should be—’
‘They read to Casey.’ She watched his face slip as the pin stuck in, as she lanced the wound that had festered too long, saw the chasm of despair in his eyes as maybe, just maybe the truth hit home. ‘Every week they choose books from the library so they can read Casey a story at night.
‘But, I guess, like me, they just weren’t able to tell you.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WITH crisis came change.
Isla didn’t know where she’d heard it, but she believed it.
Believed it enough to drag herself out of bed the next morning and pull on her uniform, to drop the kids at the eternally patient Louise’s and drive to work.
Things had to change.
And, for better or worse, now they would. Sav had been wonderful for the last two weeks, supporting her family, taking over the strain of the boys, being there for her as he always had been in a physical sense. But the distance was evident, the incident with the library book proof, if ever Isla had needed it, that they simply couldn’t go on like this. For the boys’ sake more than hers.
Isla hadn’t really expected to see Sav straight off, had consoled herself she’d have an hour or so of grace before he arrived at work, but she found him huddled on a stool in the nurses’ station, talking into the phone and doodling on a pad, dressed in baggy theatre blues and an old white coat, dark and brooding, as if he were sitting in a gale-force storm. There was absolutely no way of avoiding him and Isla took a deep breath and tried to breeze into the gathering throng of early shift nurses, determined to greet him with a professional ‘Good morning’ if he deigned to look at her. But Sav had other ideas and pointedly didn’t look up when she came over to the nurses’ station. But he managed a smile for Jayne as she placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him.
‘I figured he deserves it,’ Jayne said, catching Isla looking over. ‘Seeing that he’s been here since three. But, then, you already know that.’
Her unintentional twist of the knife had Sav’s eyes jerk up. Isla felt herself staring back, her stance almost defiant, daring him, daring him to do this—to take the first step, tell the first person, take a pin to the balloon and burst it all right there and then. But clearly seven-fifteen a.m. in front of a gathering crowd wasn’t quite the time, and it was Sav who broke the moment, Sav who dragged his eyes away and Isla finally let out the breath she had inadvertently been holding.
Wherever Sav had been last night, it didn’t appear to have had a razor. His usually clean-shaven face was peppered with dark early morning stubble, his eyes dark holes in his tense face. He hadn’t dived into the staff showers yet, which with any other human Isla could think of would have been a turn-off. But with Sav it had the opposite effect on her. His heavy male scent was accentuated now, and at the most ridiculous, inappropriate, pathetically inexcusable time Isla felt weak at the knees with lust, longing to push aside all the hell that was holding them apart, to make everyone somehow disappear and place her hands on those tired broad shoulders, to run her fingers through that tousled hair, to kiss away all the pain and hurt in his strained face.
‘Isla?’
Jayne’s voice made her jump and she stared over at the slightly bemused, impatient crowd gathered outside cubicle one, waiting to start. Beating back a blush, she made her way over and forced herself to focus as handover proceeded.
But work soon took over, the real world soon caught up as Isla submerged herself in other people’s problems, almost relieved to find out that, as bad as her world seemed right now, there were a lot of people worse off.
‘Ivy!’ Pulling open the curtain, Isla stared at the familiar face of her first real patient in seven years. She’d recognized her name as soon as the night nurse had said it, and had listened with growing sadness when she’d heard how Ivy had been discharged only the previous day and had fallen again, this time thankfully only fracturing her nose.
And fracturing her spirit, Isla thought as the once beady eyes didn’t look up. Ivy’s face was swathed in gauze and purple bruises were already spreading under her eyes.
‘What happened?’
‘Ivy fell.’ Amy didn’t look great this morning either as she sat beside her sister, the make-up replaced with tired, red-rimmed eyes, the smart hair almost as wild and woolly as her sister’s. ‘I wanted her to come home to us, but Ivy insisted, as she always does, that she was fine—didn’t even want the supper I brought over for her. I heard a crash around four this morning.’
‘Oh, Ivy.’ Isla pulled up a chair. ‘What did the doctor say?’
‘That I can’t go home,’ Ivy whispered. ‘That I’m not capable—’
‘He didn’t,’ Amy interjected. ‘The doctor said that you need more help, more support, which I’m prepared to give. You can come and live with me.’
‘If I give up drinking.’ Ivy stared angrily at her sister, and when Amy didn’t deny it she turned to Isla. ‘I’m eighty-two years old, for goodness’ sake, what’s the point? Why should I deny myself my one pleasure?’
‘It’s not a pleasure any more, though, Ivy.’ Sav’s thick accent had Isla’s cheeks flaming as he pulled open the curtain and walked in. ‘You’ve only been home from hospital one night and already you’re back. With the right help and support, you can give up drinking and have a full—’
‘I have a full life,’ Ivy interrupted, a flash of the feisty woman Isla had witnessed a few weeks ago emerging. ‘Much fuller than I’d have strapped to a rocking chair in Amy’s house, with a hundred grandchildren running around, and Amy telling me how lucky I am to have her.’
‘It wouldn’t be like that,’ Amy said and Sav turned to her.
‘Would you excuse us?’ Sav flashed a very nice, very kind smile to Amy. ‘Maybe you could use a coffee?’
Pulling up a chair as Amy left, Sav paused for a long moment before talking. ‘I’ve been on the phone to Eden Lodge—’
‘The madhouse?’ Ivy barked, but Sav shook his head.
‘No, it’s a rehabilitation unit. It’ll mean staying there for a few weeks and learning how to live life without alcohol. If you’re prepared to give it a go, they’re ready to have you. I’ve spent the last two hours on the telephone, convincing them to let you jump the queue, assuring them that you’re a good candidate for rehabilitation.’
‘Well, you’ve been wasting your time. There’s nothing about me that needs rehabilitating. A bit of peace and quiet is all I need!’
‘You need support,’ Sav said firmly, and Ivy gave a loud snort.
‘What am I supposed to do? Shuffle off to AA meetings on my Zimmer frame? You’ll have me giving up salt next and taking aerobics classes.’
‘You have a family that loves you, Ivy, a family that wants you to join them…’
‘Well, I don’t want to join them. Bloody kids everywhere.’
‘You don’t like children?’
‘I don’t like their noise. I’d rather be alone.’
‘With your memories?’ Sav said softly, but then his voice changed. ‘Or with your vodka?’
‘What would you know?’ Ivy stared angrily back at him. ‘What would you know about grief? I bet you’ve got a lovely little wife waiting for you at home, a houseful of kids—’
‘Ivy.’ It was Isla interrupting now, Isla feeling that, as much as it was par for the course in this line of work, things really were getting too personal. ‘These sorts of places don’t come up very often. Now, you have to make a choice—either take the help that Dr Ramirez’s offering or—’
‘Or what?’ Ivy shouted. ‘You’ll send me anyway?’
‘Not at all.’ Isla shook her head. ‘You can go home now. Dr Ramirez will arrange an outpatient appointment with ENT to assess your nose once the swelling goes down and I’ll call the social worker and try to arrange meals on wheels…’
‘Amy does my meals.’
‘No.’ Sav stood up. ‘Amy has her own life, one that you’re welcome to join, but she’s not going to prop you up any more, Ivy. She’s not going to provide your meals and go to bed at night with one ear open in case you fall. Quite simply, she can’t do it any more, can’t sit by and watch you destroy your life. So if you don’t go into rehab, next Sunday she’s flying to Queensland to see some of her grandchildren.’
‘Leaving me?’ Ivy roared.
‘Perhaps.’ Sav shrugged. ‘Or perhaps you’ll be in Eden Lodge, getting yourself sorted, preparing yourself for a wonderful life that’s waiting for you if only you’ll let it in.’
‘How can it be wonderful without Eddie?’ For a second Isla felt as if she were looking into Sav’s eyes, the pain, the agony so clearly visible in Ivy’s. ‘Everyone says I should be over it…’
‘You’ll never get over it,’ Isla said softly. ‘You’ll never have a day when you don’t miss him, Ivy, but with the right help, if you let in the people around you who love you, in a little while you’ll slowly start to learn to live with the pain without drowning in it. Life can still be good.’
Maybe there was something in Isla’s voice that told Ivy she was speaking from the heart, that she wasn’t just another nurse who had read the books, but someone who possibly understood. After a long silence the old lady nodded, and Isla felt a sting of tears in her eyes as she took the first brave step. Isla’s heart tripped to a stop as she felt Sav’s warm hand close over her shoulder, giving a tiny squeeze, though of what she didn’t know. Encouragement? Support?
Understanding?
‘Can I tell Eden Lodge that you’re coming?’ Sav’s voice was thick with emotion, his hand still on Isla’s shoulder.
‘When?’
‘Today.’
‘How will I get there?’
‘In an ambulance. It might take a while to organize. You’ll need a nurse escort.’
‘Can Isla come with me?’
Sav hesitated, and with good reason. An Emergency trained RN, even if she was a relative newcomer, was a rather essential commodity, and under normal circumstances the escort would have been arranged from Outpatients or the hospital bank. But a final tiny squeeze before he removed his hand from Isla’s shoulder told her that Sav understood the old lady’s fears, that it wasn’t all about budgets and numbers but about people.
‘I’ll do my best.’
Which was enough.
An ambulance came within the hour, and Isla smiled at Ted and Doug as they loaded the old lady into the ambulance chair, chatting amicably with her, even teasing her as she made them wait while she put on her lipstick.
‘Eden Lodge won’t know what’s hit them,’ Sav said as Isla collected the X-rays and letter he had written. He looked more like the old Sav now. He was dressed in a French navy suit, his white shirt accentuating his swarthy skin and that delicious strong jaw, clean shaven now and splashed with way too much of the heady aftershave Isla bought him each Father’s Day, every bit the dashing consultant, ready to deliver the weekly doctor’s lecture. But for a moment he was Sav, and she was Isla. ‘You did well with her.’ The smile slipped from his face, his expression suddenly serious. ‘You really got through to her.’
‘If only it was always so easy.’ Her voice was soft, her eyes holding his. ‘I don’t think it was all me, Sav. I guess Ivy was just ready for change.’
She could see the grooves around his eyes, lines that hadn’t been there eighteen months ago, flecks of grey fanning his sideburns, and ached to reach out, to capture that proud tired face in her hands. But it wasn’t the place, and it certainly wasn’t the time.
Sav had to come to her.
‘Have you told the boys about what’s happened?’
Isla shook her head. ‘I thought it should come from both of us.’
And then he said it, the three little words she had waited for ever to hear—not ‘I love you’ because that had never been in doubt, but three little words that had been absent for so long now.
‘Can we talk?’
‘Isla, ready for the off?’ Ted was coming up behind her, completely unaware of what he was interrupting, which was as it should be, of course, but even though it was
work, even though it was a busy Monday in Emergency, some things simply couldn’t wait.
‘About?’ Isla’s eyes were on Sav.
‘Us,’ Sav said, his eyes screwing closed for a tiny fraction. ‘Casey.’
‘You know we can.’ Clutching the notes to her chest, she managed a brave smile, her heart swelling inside, that this difficult proud man could drag them back from the brink more a comfort than she could have ever imagined. ‘I have to go.’
She could feel his eyes burning into her as she stepped through the sliding doors of the ambulance entrance, turned around for one quick wave and smiled back at him. As she settled Ivy, strapped in her seat belt and chatted to the paramedics, Sav’s face appeared at the door. ‘You forgot the ENT outpatient appointment.’
‘Thanks.’ The look that flashed between them was as intense, as intimate, as close as a look could be.
As Ted closed the ambulance door, as they indicated and pulled out of the bay, Sav knew he should have headed back in, heaven knows there was enough waiting for him to do, but a shiver of foreboding ran through him as the ambulance slipped from view into the busy morning traffic.
There was so much that needed to be said.
Surely there was still time.
‘Ivy!’ Grabbing the bottle, Isla shook her head, furious with herself for chatting too long to Ted and not noticing Ivy sneak a bottle out of her handbag. ‘You can’t have a drink.’
‘Just one,’ Ivy moaned. ‘One last one.’
‘They won’t take you if you smell of alcohol,’ Isla scolded, suppressing a smile as Ted shot her a wink. ‘You’re supposed to be trying to give up.’
‘And I will, once I get there,’ Ivy huffed.
‘Well, no time like the present. We’re here now.’ Ted grinned as the ambulance pulled up in the driveway of a small hospital-like building. ‘Your new home for the next few weeks.’
Emergency--A Marriage Worth Keeping Page 11
