by Annie O'Neil
Again, she stuffed the thoughts to the back of her mind, forcing herself back to the here and now.
‘Wise counsel,’ Cooper said, and his voice carried a weight of emotion that went beyond what was happening in the here and now. As though Charlie’s words had hit their mark.
‘I don’t want to say goodbye,’ Charlie whispered, then threw a guilty look over his shoulder towards the lounge, where his wife was in lying in her bed.
‘I know, mate. And I wish there was something I could say to make it easier for you. But I suppose you’ve got to keep thinking of that poem, eh? All that you’ve had, rather than what you haven’t.’
Cooper put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder and the two of them stood there for a moment in silence. The only sounds surfacing around them were Charlie and Rhona’s children, laughing as they built a snowman in the back garden.
Audrey waited until the two men, similar in age, had shared the equivalent of a life-affirming bear hug. A couple of thumps on the back and more throat-clearing. As difficult as this must be for Cooper—a man who claimed to prefer to keep his patients’ personal lives at arm’s length—it would be a much harder moment for Charlie. It warmed her to the marrow that Cooper wasn’t backing away during the poor man’s time of need.
‘Right, then.’ Cooper finally broke the silence. ‘What do you say we get this transfusion underway?’
‘Sounds good, Coop.’
They gave one another a couple more claps on the back and then, with a quick look back to Audrey, Cooper got to work.
* * *
Cooper tried to hide the conflicting emotions battling it out in his chest.
Rhona looked so thin and tired. Giving her this blood transfusion would almost certainly help with her anaemia—but was prolonging this battle she’d been waging with her cancer really the best thing for her?
‘I feel better already,’ Rhona said, happily contradicting his silent thoughts.
Her husband let out a huge sigh of relief.
‘That’s brilliant news, love. That was fast!’
Charlie beamed from the end of the bed, clearly pleased to see even the tiniest peak in his wife’s energy.
‘How could it not be? I’ve got more island blood in me now.’
Audrey deftly withdrew the needle from Rhona’s thin forearm and applied a cotton pressure roll and sterilised dressing atop it. ‘Island blood?’
Charlie answered for her, the pride in his voice almost palpable. ‘A few weeks back—late November time—Gertie organised a blood drive. It actually happened the day she passed—’ He stopped mid-flow, a stricken look seizing him as he connected eyes with Cooper.
‘It’s okay.’ Cooper nodded a few times, settling the information into place. ‘Sounds just like Gran.’
‘It was. It was her to a T, Coop. On the phone from her sickbed, rallying the islanders to help my Rhona... Dozens of folk came. Of course everyone wasn’t able to donate, for one reason or another, and there were all different types of blood, not all of them a match. But all we really wanted was for there to be enough for Christmas—didn’t we, love?’
‘It’s worked out perfectly,’ Rhona agreed.
Charlie gave his wife’s leg a loving pat.
Cooper realised it was moments like these that he’d been hiding from by working in A&E. Moments that tested the power of his own tear ducts to obey his commands. Sure, some cases in A&E had got to him. But he hadn’t gone to school with any of the people he’d treated. Hadn’t watched them fall in love. Hadn’t shared their wedding cake with them and watched them have children, only to realise that everything they’d built would soon be shadowed in contrast to the future they would actually lead.
Did knowing all this make him a better doctor?
Cooper flicked a quick look in Audrey’s direction as she tidied away the transfusion kit. She would’ve noticed all the things Charlie was likely doing his best to ignore. Rhona’s breathing was slower and noisier than it had been over the past few weeks. Her lips were dry. Her skin was cool, despite the room being so warm that both he and Audrey had stripped down to the red and green mismatched scrubs they’d agreed to wear today.
They’d sealed the idea with a kiss, back when they’d been giggling and touching and laughing over their pancake breakfast.
Waking up holding Audrey in his arms that morning, he’d never felt more alive. But the thought felt almost traitorous, standing here, as he was, next to a woman who had, at best, only a handful of days left to live. Doubly so when, back at Jimmy’s, he’d mentally packed his bags and headed back to Glasgow, where distance anaesthetised the pain of loving and losing someone.
Being here, in the thick of precisely that type of love and loss, was throwing a spanner into the works of his tried and tested escape plan. Leaving felt as though it would be the coward’s route. Staying had to be the right thing. But at this precise moment he wasn’t sure he could separate right from wrong.
‘Cooper, are you all right?’ Rhona asked, her head sinking a bit further back into her pillow.
‘’Course, Rhona. Just making sure we’ve got you as comfortable as you can be.’
‘I’m fine.’ Rhona feigned a dizzy look. ‘The morphine’s keeping everything under control.’
They both watched as Audrey and Charlie left the room under the premise of preparing some hot chocolate for the children when they came in from playing in the snow.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Rhona pressed.
He wanted to say no, but he wouldn’t.
He was being an arse to Audrey—dropping a sheet of ice between them so he could sort himself out just when he should’ve been more open, more honest.
He’d never let himself fall in love before, and—though it scared the absolute living daylights out of him—he was pretty sure that was what was happening now. A true Christmas miracle.
‘Hey...’ Rhona gave Cooper’s arm a weak pat. ‘Chin up. Christmas is coming.’
He smiled and, as had become his habit, looked across to Audrey, who’d just come back into the room. His eyes met hers, and the look they shared was so bittersweet it was all he could do not to pull her into her arms and tell her he knew he was being an idiot.
He could feel the past yanking him in the wrong direction when he should be looking to the future—a future with her. But until he separated himself from the ghosts of his parents, telling him the only thing he brought to the world was unhappiness, he wasn’t sure the feelings he had for Audrey could ever reach their full potential. Which meant he’d have to let her go.
It was a thought so painful it felt as if the ghosts of the past were reaching into his chest and literally tearing his heart out.
His ultimate decision would have to be an honest one. She deserved nothing less. Her brown eyes spoke volumes. She cared for him. Deeply. But something had shifted between the pair of them at Jimmy’s, and the blame firmly fell on his shoulders.
‘Coop...?’ Rhona tapped his arm again.
‘Yes, Rhona—sorry. I was away with the faeries there.’
Her eyes swept between the pair of them. ‘Aye, right you are, Coop.’
He pulled up a chair so he could be eye to eye with Rhona. ‘What can we do for you, Rhona? Just name it and we’ll do it.’
She was well aware they were into the palliative stage of her care, so if there was any step she wanted to make, he would help her do it.
‘I want to go to the Nativity.’
‘What? At the church tonight?’
‘I want to see my family up there, doing what they do best. They won’t go if I don’t, and the Nativity isn’t the Nativity if the whole of Bourtree isn’t crowding up the church.’
He didn’t hesitate. ‘We’ll make that happen.’
And a few hours later Cooper felt the satisfaction of a man who’d done all he could to make
someone’s final wish come true.
Rhona, nestled amongst a pile of his gran’s quilts in a wheelchair, was front and centre in the church. Audrey had tucked hot water bottles around her to keep her cosy throughout the Nativity, and when they’d arrived Robbie’s rugby team had been ready to lift the chair up and over the cobbled street, through the church’s large wooden doors.
It had been an incredible moment of a community coming together for one shared purpose. To ensure a dying woman’s last wishes were respected and carried out with as much love and compassion as they could muster. This, he thought, was Christmas magic. This was love. Being there when it mattered most, no matter how painful it was.
‘Where’s Audrey, Coop?’ Robbie appeared at his side. ‘Thought she’d be with you.’
Not with the way he’d been acting. Distant. Cool.
‘She said she had an errand to run.’
Most likely she was checking the ferry schedule. Seeing how soon she could get off the island. He didn’t blame her. He’d put the blinkers on after they’d left Rhona’s. Poured all of the energy he should’ve been dedicating to Audrey into fulfilling Rhona’s wishes when he knew damn straight he should’ve done both.
What the hell was stopping him from telling Audrey how he felt?
Robbie nudged him. ‘Too bad the island can’t have two nurses, eh? You two seem a good match.’
‘Who says I’m staying?’
Robbie pulled back and stared at him. ‘Seriously? You’d go back to Glasgow after all you’ve done here? The changes you’ve made in folks’ lives?’ Robbie shook his head. ‘The island needs you, Coop.’
‘The island needs a doctor,’ Cooper corrected him.
A look of disappointment shadowed Robbie’s features. ‘You know as well as I do that Bourtree needs more than that.’ And then he walked away.
Well, that told him.
Cooper found a perch at the edge of the apse, close enough to Rhona so that if she needed any help he’d be close to hand, but far enough away that she didn’t feel as though he was hovering, waiting for the worst.
The vicar quietened down the excited murmurings of the congregation and gave thanks in advance for all those who had helped make the evening come together. Then he invited the island’s children to come to the front of the church—regardless of age or faith—to sing carols and, of course, their favourite Viking battle song.
That got his attention. Back when he’d lived here, the Nativity had erred on the side of Christian tradition—Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus and a donkey being the key players, the Wise Men, a few sheep and some Viking warriors playing a close second. His grandmother had felt the Vikings deserved a nod, seeing as many of the traditions—the Twelve days of Christmas, the Yule Log, and the seasonal ham—were theirs. He’d always enjoyed taking a role as a Viking guard back in the day. It had been his favourite because his gran had always been by his side in her own Viking costume.
Which did make him think...
‘Bloody brilliant, isn’t it?’ Robbie materialised beside him and propped himself against the church wall as Cooper had.
The children were belting out a rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’ as delighted parents and grandparents clapped along. Cooper glanced at Robbie to agree, but realised he wasn’t looking at the stage. He was looking at Rhona, her eyes glistening with pride, as her children went through their choreographed gestures, shaking their wrists, heavy with jingling bells on red ribbons, Charlie was by her side, his face wreathed in smiles as he looked between his wife and his children.
‘It is that,’ Cooper agreed, and he felt the warm spirit of Christmas slipping into his blood flow like oxygen. This was the flipside of knowing your patients well. It wasn’t just the lows you experienced together—it was also the heartrendingly beautiful highs.
He let his eyes travel over the congregation, trying to see if he could find Audrey amongst them. Just a few weeks together and already he could spot her in a crowd in an instant. But her dark pixie head wasn’t anywhere to be seen amongst the crowd. It wasn’t the entire island’s population, but it was certainly a healthy portion of it—apart, of course, from Noreen, who was still in Australia with her grandbaby.
Would she come back, he wondered, if her daughter’s community was doing something similar? And if she stayed in Oz, would Audrey stay? Would the lure of Audrey on Bourtree be enough for him to finally move on from the past and make a future for himself here?
He continued to scan the crowd.
Dr Anstruther was here with his wife. Jimmy was at the lighting console, Angela by his side, the pair of them were singing along with the children. Glenn Davidson was holding up a phone, filming two children who kept waving at him—presumably his grandchildren. All of their patients, even the poor lad who’d broken both of his legs skiing, were present and accounted for.
Where was Audrey? He was physically feeling her absence and he didn’t like it.
Perhaps she’d already taken the step back that all his girlfriends inevitably did. His sour mood had driven her away exactly when she’d needed him to be strong.
Daggers of pain slashed through him as he thought of what she’d been through with her fiancé. And he’d practically done the same. He hadn’t cheated. He’d never do that to any woman, let alone Audrey. But he’d turned his back on her at precisely the moment she’d made herself vulnerable to him.
The re-enactment of the Nativity began. Mary entered the centre aisle of the church on the back of a donkey with Joseph, leading her past some Vikings towards the ‘stable’.
Cooper only just managed to laugh along with the rest of the congregation as they asked everyone they passed if there was any room at their inn. All of the pews were stuffed, so, no. There was no room.
He could relate. His entire life he’d convinced himself that the islanders had wanted to squeeze him out. He’d done it for them. Left with a silent vow never to return. And for what? A barely furnished flat he never saw and a sad excuse for a social life?
He could be part of something here. Part of a community.
At the altar, where the children were dressed as sheep and chickens and one alpaca, Mary, Joseph and their newborn babe were granted shelter.
Just as he’d been cared for by his gran.
A swell of music came from the church organ, eliciting a series of oohs and ahs. Two wise men and one wise woman appeared from a far door. They were flanked by Vikings—one of whom was Audrey.
A complex mix of emotions washed through him as their eyes met, an electric heat searing straight through his chest. They’d asked Audrey to be in the Nativity, but not him. Had he jumped to the wrong conclusion about the islanders wanting him to stay?
Too late he realised he’d not even bothered to disguise his dismay. Audrey looked away.
A hush came over the congregation as the plain white church ceiling suddenly began to glow and shimmer with...the aurora borealis.
Jimmy had outdone himself. Celestial colours arced and curved across the ceiling, occasionally making contact with the handful of stained-glass windows, while the congregation as a whole began to sing ‘Joy to the World’.
The beauty of it pierced Cooper to the core. He’d missed over a decade’s worth of moments like these. Would moving back make him the man his grandmother had always believed him to be? A man who had the strength to endure whatever emotional storms he encountered? Or would it be a constant reminder of the fact his parents had never wanted him?
He stripped his past away from the equation and asked himself the most important question. Was making a future with Audrey or coming to terms with his past on Bourtree more important?
He looked across to Rhona. Charlie was kneeling beside her, as were her two children. Her eyes were closed, but there was a soft smile on her lips. A family’s best and worst moment all wrapped up into one.
He made up his m
ind. He knew what he had to do.
CHAPTER NINE
‘HERE.’ COOPER HANDED the mug brimming with hot chocolate to Audrey. ‘You’ll need this after making all those snow angels.’
‘I blame the children.’ She pinned on a smile she knew wasn’t making it all the way to her eyes. Hot chocolate before she broke things off for good with Cooper was little salve to such a deep wound. But she was determined to press on.
‘I don’t seem to remember it was the children kicking things off,’ Cooper said, his lips trying and failing to quirk into a smile.
He’d been edgy ever since they’d met up after the Nativity. In fairness, she had, too. It could’ve been the journey they’d just had, taking Rhona back to her family home. She’d been understandably worn out by the outing. How much time the transfusion they’d given her would give her now was anyone’s guess. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with her children had been her wish.
Sharing a life with Cooper here on the Bourtree had been hers.
She’d felt like a genuine part of the community when they’d asked her to participate in the Nativity...right up until her eyes had connected with Cooper’s. And then all that joy had been stripped away. He hadn’t told her what his plans were. But what she’d seen in his eyes tonight had told her everything she needed to know.
He didn’t want her to stay. His island. His complicated emotions. His guillotine cutting her out of his life.
What an absolute idiot. She’d fallen into exactly the same trap she had with Rafael. And now, yet again, a man she’d thought she loved was calling the shots.
The only thing was...she really did love this man. And the fact that he didn’t share the same feelings made this Christmas Eve far worse than the one she’d imagined having back when she’d arrived on this twinkly island all lit by Christmas magic, with Cooper in the centre of it all.
After weeks of unearthing the kind, generous, community-spirited man underneath the Santa suit...the man she’d fallen in love with despite trying to keep her emotions in check... Audrey knew it had all been a horrible, over-hopeful mistake. Audrey the Optimist had been blindsided yet again.
