The Accidental Romeo

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘Stop.’ Charlotte was standing on the couch, both crying and laughing; Adam was curled up, laughing too.

  ‘I haven’t got to the really fast bit yet.’

  It was their day.

  They made a tiny miniature feast for the fairies and had their own picnic in the living room—Marnie opened the French doors and let the sun stream in as they sat on a blanket and pretended they were in a field.

  Harry rang that evening to say goodnight but Marnie made sure she was busy upstairs, blushing a bit at the memory of the morning, still feeling a little as if she was playing house.

  ‘Can we put more food out for the fairies tomorrow?’ Charlotte said, but Marnie shook her head.

  ‘They’ll be too fat to fly if we keep feeding them. Now, you get some sleep.’ She gave Charlotte a smile and headed out of her room and then into Adam’s.

  ‘’Night, Marnie.’

  ‘Would you like a story?’ Marnie said because, unlike Charlotte, Adam never really asked for anything, and she smiled when he nodded.

  It was a slightly different version of the one she had told Charlotte, and her nieces and nephews and brothers, but it was lovely to see Adam smiling and asking questions, though not as many as Charlotte had.

  ‘Are we going back to day care on Monday?’

  ‘I think so.’ Marnie smiled but it faded after she had turned out the light and closed the door and realised this could well be her second-last night at the house.

  Charlotte had the same question the next day after lunch. As she seemed a little bit tired and tearful, Marnie had suggested she have a little sleep, but it had been met by scorn.

  ‘I don’t need a sleep.’ She looked at Marnie and made a quick amendment. ‘Though I still don’t feel well,’ she added hurriedly. ‘When do we go back to day care?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Marnie admitted. ‘I think Daddy was going to call Evelyn over the weekend.’

  ‘I’m going to ring him,’ Charlotte said, but was upset a few minutes later when she came back into the lounge. ‘Daddy can’t come to the phone.’

  ‘He’s just busy,’ Marnie said, because she’d just been watching the news. There had been an emergency in the city and now a pile-up more locally. ‘He’ll call you back as soon as he can.’

  Even though there was nothing she could do to help, Marnie still called Emergency and spoke with Kelly.

  ‘We’re a bit snowed under,’ Kelly said. ‘But we’re coping. Thankfully it happened just after the late staff came on, so there were plenty of us.’

  Yes, there were plenty of nurses but as Harry examined a potential spinal injury, he wished there were a few more consultants.

  An eighteen-year-old who had got his driving licence on Friday had taken a friend out and met up another newly licensed friend.

  And his friend!

  Harry had seen it and heard it and dealt with it more times than he should be able to remember.

  Yet he remembered each one.

  The trauma team had taken the first driver straight to Theatre and Harry was dealing with the passenger, who, though conscious, was displaying worrying signs. ‘Squeeze my hands,’ Harry said, and the patient did so. ‘Okay, try and lift your left leg...’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Okay. Can you wiggle your toes for me?’

  ‘Harry!’ He could hear Kelly calling him from behind the curtain. ‘Harry, now, please!’

  He needed two of him.

  ‘You paged the second on trauma?’ Harry checked with Miriam, who nodded. ‘Fast-page them again,’ Harry said, and quickly gave Sheldon some instructions.

  ‘Harry!’ Kelly was calling him again as he stepped in. ‘He’s not responding...’

  ‘Carl!’ Harry pinched the young man’s ear; he had been talking just a few minutes ago when Harry had been called for the spinal injury. When pinching his ear failed to elicit a response Harry tried a sternal rub. ‘Carl!’ Harry ran his pen over the young man’s nail bed and watched as he extended to pain.

  ‘Start some mannitol,’ Harry said, prescribing an IV solution to reduce intracranial pressure. ‘Let’s him round for an MRI.’

  ‘Are you going with him?’ Kelly checked, and just as Harry was coming to an impossible decision, just as he heard the roar of the storm become louder, a deep accented voice brought calm.

  ‘Can I help?’

  ‘Juan!’

  ‘I heard on the radio that there had been a big accident. I thought you and Dr Vermont might need a hand.’

  There wasn’t time for conversation, let alone to break the terrible news. ‘I’ve got a query spinal in the next curtain who I’m very concerned about...’

  ‘I’ve got it.’

  For Harry there was almost a feeling of dizziness—it was such a relief to know that Juan was back, that there was another consultant to share the load, to know that he didn’t have to think about the young man in the next bed—he was getting the best of care from Juan. Harry could focus now on Carl.

  The afternoon passed in a blur of MRIs and transfers, but later, as Juan returned from Theatre, where his patient had been taken for halo traction, he caught Harry as he came off the phone.

  ‘So, is he playing golf?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Dr Vermont.’ Juan rolled his eyes because Dr Vermont did love his golf at weekends, or rather had.

  ‘Juan...’ There was no one critical now, it was time to tell him properly before he heard it in passing. He asked Juan if he could have a word in his office and once there Harry closed the door. ‘Dr Vermont passed away.’ He saw the shock on his colleague’s face. Even though Juan was fairly new to the department, it was still a terrible shock. ‘He was doing a night shift and suffered a massive myocardial infarction.’

  ‘Who was on?’

  ‘Sheldon,’ Harry said. ‘And Eric was the cardiologist. They did everything they could, of course. He was having supper with Marnie in her office and just...’ Harry shook his head and gave a weary shrug.

  ‘Poor Marnie.’

  ‘Yep,’ Harry said. ‘She got help, she did everything right, but there was nothing to be done.’

  Juan was stunned. He asked about Marjorie. ‘They were having their fortieth wedding anniversary.’

  ‘They had it,’ Harry said. ‘It was after that.’

  ‘So how have you managed?’ Juan asked.

  ‘Barely,’ Harry said. ‘Juan, there’s something else I ought to tell you—I handed my notice in a few days before Dr Vermont died. The twins have both had chickenpox, something had to give. Oh...’ he gave a wry laugh ‘...and my babysitter got shingles.’

  ‘So you’re leaving?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Harry admitted. ‘Now that you’re back, hopefully things will be better, but I need to put the children more to the front than the back of the queue. Speaking of which...’ he grimaced when he saw the time ‘...I was supposed to call Charlotte.’

  ‘Go home,’ Juan said.

  ‘You’re not due back till tomorrow..’

  ‘What did you just say about putting your priorities in order?’ Juan checked. ‘Go and spend the evening with your children.’

  Harry smiled. It was so good to have Juan back. ‘How was the wedding?’

  ‘Amazing. I will tell you about it properly later. Right now I am going to call Cate and let her know I am here for the night.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Who’s been helping with the children?’ Juan asked.

  ‘They’ve been here there and everywhere,’ Harry said, which was in part the truth. It had only been since Marnie had stepped in that things had been so stable, but certainly Marnie didn’t want anyone knowing she had temporarily moved in.

  Temporarily.

  * * *
<
br />   Marnie was starting to sort out her case, and was just putting Declan’s photo in when there was a knock at the front door and she opened it to a lady who introduced herself as Evelyn. ‘Harry rang me last night and told me the twins had been sick.’

  ‘I’m Marnie,’ she said. ‘A colleague of Harry’s. I’ve been watching the twins over the weekend while he’s been working.’ It was easier than saying she’d been here for a week.

  ‘Evelyn!’ Charlotte came charging down the stairs.

  ‘Charlotte! I’ve missed you so much!’ Evelyn was so effusive and loving and the children ran to her. ‘I was so upset to hear you’d got chickenpox.’ As she hugged the twins Evelyn looked over to Marnie. ‘If I’d known I was infectious, I’d have stayed well away.’

  ‘They’re fine,’ Marnie said.

  ‘Poor Harry, how on earth did he manage?’

  ‘It’s been a bit of a juggle but he got there.’

  ‘Well, I can help now.’ Evelyn was clearly at home here. While she chatted to Charlotte, who was filling her in on every detail of her spots, Evelyn was filling the kettle.

  Charlotte was so thrilled to see her that when Marnie’s phone rang, Charlotte barely looked over as Marnie excused herself and headed upstairs. She was feeling horribly rattled and suddenly entirely replaceable.

  ‘Hi, Mum.’ Marnie did her best to sound cheerful, not that Maureen appreciated the effort.

  ‘I know you’re busy, Marnie, but it’s been more than a month since you visited.’

  ‘I know, Mum.’

  ‘Well, on Thursday Ronan has his hand appointment. I was thinking, your father and I could bring him and then, when you’ve finished work, we could go out for dinner.’

  Was she serious? Thursday was Declan’s birthday.

  ‘Ronan said you liked the prawns at the pub—’

  ‘Mum.’

  ‘And your dad loves a nice steak.’

  ‘Mum!’ Marnie picked up Declan’s photo from the case—did her mother really think she wanted to be sitting eating prawns and talking about the bloody weather? ‘I’ve got plans that day.’

  ‘I know you do, Marnie, but, I think it would be nice if we could all be together.’

  ‘I told you, I’m busy.’

  She turned off the phone and stared at Declan.

  Her son.

  Did her mum really think they could get through the night of his birthday not talking about him?

  Avoiding his memory and the terrible hurt.

  Guilt filled Marnie as she looked at a photo that had been placed in a drawer while she’d played houses, looking after someone else’s children, telling fairy tales that, yes, she’d once told Declan, even if he’d been far too young to understand them.

  A part of her knew her guilt was misplaced, but this was her hardest time. She wanted it to be the week after next when she was over the hurdle of Declan’s birthday.

  But a fortnight from then it would be the anniversary of his death.

  It never entered her head she could share her pain.

  Oh, God, tears were filling her eyes but, as she was fast finding out, there was no such thing as suitable quiet time with a house of four-year-olds. She could hear Charlotte racing up the stairs, calling her name.

  ‘Marnie!’

  ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’

  ‘Daddy’s home!’

  Marnie headed downstairs to find Charlotte telling Harry about their weekend as Evelyn looked on happily.

  ‘The fairies came and ate the food we left them...’

  ‘Wow!’ Harry said, but she could see it was all a bit forced. Still, he made plans for tomorrow with Evelyn and once she was gone and Charlotte was upstairs, Harry let out a sigh of relief.

  ‘How was it?’ Marnie asked.

  ‘Grim,’ Harry admitted. ‘Juan’s there now. I can’t tell you how good it felt to hand the lot over to him.’ He glanced at the television that was on in the background, the news regaling them with details of the accident. ‘Who’d have teenagers?’ Harry said, and looked over at Adam as Marnie busied herself wiping the bench down, terrified she might break down, because right now she’d give anything to have one. ‘I’ve got it all to come,’ Harry said.

  ‘We’ll be good.’ Adam smiled.

  ‘That’s what they all say!’

  ‘Can you read me a story?’ Charlotte was walking in with a book. ‘Mummy, can you—?’

  ‘Marnie!’ She snapped a little more than she’d intended. ‘It’s Marnie,’ she said again, and Charlotte’s cheeks went very pink and she turned and ran off.

  ‘Adam,’ Harry said, ‘go and help Charlotte choose a story and I’ll be in.’ As Adam walked off he turned to her. ‘It was a simple mistake,’ Harry said. ‘She’s four.’

  ‘I know,’ Marnie said. ‘I just...’ She couldn’t explain it properly, the little reference to teenagers, hearing Charlotte call her Mummy—it hurt and it hurt and it hurt and she wanted the hurt to stop. ‘I’m not going to have her call me Mummy and get all confused.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Harry, I think I ought to go,’ Marnie said, and Harry stood silent. ‘I’ve got so much to do at home...’

  She was back to being the babysitter and there was nothing Harry could do.

  ‘Stay for dinner?’

  ‘I’d rather not. I’m ready for home.’ She gave him a tight smile. ‘I’ll go and speak to the children.’

  She was terribly nice to them.

  Harry stood at the door as she said goodbye to Charlotte and told her she was sorry for snapping.

  ‘Some things make me sad.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like—’ Marnie was as honest as she could be with a four-year-old ‘—I don’t have children.’

  ‘You said you didn’t want babies.’

  ‘Well, most of the time I feel like that,’ Marnie said. ‘Just not all the time.’

  Harry hadn’t seen her with the children over the weekend. He watched as she was very kind and very honest with the twins...but, yes, she held back. ‘I’m going to go back to my house now,’ Marnie said. ‘Dr Juan starts tomorrow, your spots are all gone...’

  ‘Will we see you again?’

  ‘Of course!’ Marnie said. ‘I’m sure you’ll be dropping in to the department.’

  It wasn’t what they wanted, though.

  They got their first and last kiss from Marnie.

  Just a brief one.

  She didn’t want them, Harry realised.

  Which meant she didn’t want him.

  ‘Thank you.’ Harry helped her take her stuff out to the car.

  ‘It’s been great,’ Marnie said, and then she sent their relationship straight back to where it had started. ‘Not that we’ll be telling anyone at work about it.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘If I had an umbrella I’d put it up!’

  He couldn’t even smile at her pale joke.

  ‘Next week,’ Harry said, ‘once Juan’s back, I’d like to take you out to dinner to properly say thank you.’

  ‘There’s no need for that.’

  No, she could not have made it clearer.

  ‘I really am grateful,’ Harry said, remembering the reason Marnie had been there.

  The only reason.

  Work.

  ‘We got through it,’ he said.

  ‘We did!’ Marnie smiled. ‘Two consultants and another soon starting! We’ll be back on track in no time.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  IT REALLY WAS business as usual.

  At work at least.

  The house had been as cold as a morgue after she’d gone.

  It was strange, because there were always nanni
es and aunts and people coming and going, but without Marnie it felt like some sinkhole had opened up and plunged them back into darkness.

  ‘I love Marnie...’ Charlotte was crying.

  ‘Charlotte!’ He’d been about to tell her she was too dramatic, but she did love her, Harry realised, and Adam did too, because Harry could hear him crying in his bedroom. ‘Marnie adores you.’

  ‘Then why isn’t she here?’

  It was one question he couldn’t answer.

  He wanted to remind the twins she’d only been there for a few days, yet by the end of a week without Marnie—near midnight on the Sunday night—Harry had done what he’d thought he’d never be ready to do and taken his ring off.

  He loved Jill so much but it felt wrong to be wearing it when he was mourning someone else.

  All he knew now was that being in bed with Marnie was amazing, but more than that, when she laughed, when she smiled, or when her honesty was so breathtaking your biscuit snapped in mid-dunk, Harry wanted more.

  But Marnie didn’t want intimacy.

  Marnie didn’t want them.

  You had to admire her really.

  Harry sat at work, late afternoon on the Wednesday, trying to write, trying not to turn to the sound of her voice.

  ‘Did you forget how to use surgical taps when you were on your honeymoon?’ Like a hawk swooping, she was off her stool and straight onto Juan. ‘I’ll remind you how to use them, Juan.’

  ‘Marnie, I’m not about to see a patient...’

  ‘It’s about good habits,’ Marnie said. ‘Which means if you use the surgical sink then you’re to use it as such and turn it off with your elbows.’ She was demonstrating again and Juan was grinning.

  ‘Show me again, Marnie,’ Juan said.

  Harry could stand it no longer and anyway he had somewhere he needed to be. In an attempt to cheer Charlotte he’d rung up about ballet lessons and she had her first one at five. ‘Got to go,’ Harry said.

  ‘Before you do I need you to witness my signature.’ Juan had an interview with Immigration the next day about getting permanent residence in Australia. ‘For the immigration forms...’

  ‘No problem,’ Harry said. ‘I need to get Charlotte changed here anyway. I’ll just go and get them and, if you can have everything ready, I’ll sign them on my way out.’