by Leah Martyn
They exchanged greetings and Tracey said, beaming, ‘I’ve got a job here.’
‘Congratulations,’ Declan said warmly.
‘From me as well,’ Emma added. ‘You’re a star, Tracey.’
‘I got the job off my own bat too,’ Tracey said proudly. ‘Mrs Kennedy is going to teach me the nursery side of things and I can do some college courses in Toowoomba and learn how to propagate plants and stuff.’
‘That’s brilliant.’ Declan raised dark brows. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘Well, I’ve you to thank really, Dr O’Malley.’ Tracey blushed. ‘I mean you believed in me…’
Declan shook his head. ‘You did all the hard work, Tracey.’
‘Maybe…’ She bit her lip. ‘And Dr Armitage—you looked after my kids…’ She stopped, embarrassed.
‘It was a pleasure, Tracey.’ Emma blinked a bit. ‘They’re wonderful kids. Are they here today?’
‘Heck, no.’ Tracey rolled her eyes. ‘They’re with Nev.’
‘So, life is looking pretty good, then?’ Declan asked.
Tracey nodded. ‘And, best of all, I’ve been placed on the Defence Department’s housing list. The kids and I should get our own place pretty soon. We’ll be together again and Carolyn will get some peace at last. Anyway…’ she huffed an embarrassed laugh and took out her order book ‘…what can I get you?’
There was an awkward silence after Tracey had gone.
‘So, did you manage your debrief?’ Emma’s question had a sharp edge to it.
His look was guarded and cool. ‘After a fashion.’
‘Look, could we stop talking in riddles?’ Emma threw caution to the winds and said what was uppermost on her mind. ‘It hurt that you didn’t want us to be together last night. What am I supposed to think now, Declan?’
‘I hardly know what to think myself, Emma,’ he said baldly. ‘Yesterday changed everything.’
‘You mean it’s given you options you didn’t have before, don’t you?’
Declan’s face was tightly drawn. ‘I don’t know yet. That’s something I have to find out.’
The silence between them lengthened and became thicker.
‘I need to ask a favour of you, Emma,’ he said at last.
Her heart pounded uncomfortably. ‘What do you need?’
‘I need to be in Melbourne for a couple of days. I’ll get a flight today from Brisbane and I should be back for surgery on Tuesday. If you could cover my patient list on Monday, I’d be grateful.’
She was hardly surprised at his request. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t conducted surgery countless times before on her own. It was obvious he was going to Melbourne to sort out what options were open to him. Maybe even get a new job operating now he knew he could. Well, she hoped he got what he wanted. He certainly didn’t want her. She took a deep breath and pressed her palms down hard on the table. ‘Go and do what you have to do, Declan. I’ll manage.’
Chapter Twelve
‘MOIRA, streamline the patient lists as much as you can, please,’ Emma said on Monday morning to the practice manager. ‘I’m covering for Declan today.’
‘Where is Declan?’ Moira raised a questioning brow.
‘Melbourne,’ Emma said economically.
‘He has family in Melbourne, doesn’t he?’
‘Yes.’ Emma shrugged. And Declan was known there, had a network of professional contacts there. No doubt felt at home there. Enough to draw him back?
Her nerves tightened alarmingly. If he knew he could resume his chosen discipline, what on earth could entice him to stay in Bendemere?
The thought was painful. Almost impossible to bear. But Emma brought her fair head up determinedly. ‘Don’t worry about morning tea, Moira. I’ll work straight through to lunch.’
Declan waited in the foyer of the lovely old building that contained within its hallowed architecture the professional rooms of the city’s leading specialist doctors.
No one knew he was in Melbourne. No one apart from Emma and Matthew Levingston, one of Australia’s top spinal consultants, who had agreed to see him first thing this morning as a professional favour. He hadn’t wanted to tell his sisters he was in town. There would be too many questions—questions he didn’t have answers to.
The lift arrived and Declan stepped inside. Even though he’d had only tea and toast for breakfast, it was sitting uneasily in his stomach. Breathing out a jagged breath, he pressed the button for the third floor.
Dr Levingston’s receptionist, Jill Carter, was middle-aged and pleasant, her smile professionally in place as Declan approached the counter.
‘Declan O’Malley.’ His voice was clipped, strained. ‘I have an appointment this morning.’
‘Yes, Dr O’Malley. Dr Levingston is expecting you. Take a seat for a moment. He shouldn’t be long.’
‘Thanks.’ Declan hesitated. ‘Would you know if my notes arrived from Scotland? They were coming from St Mary’s in Edinburgh.’
‘Faxed through during the weekend. Doctor has them now.’
Declan nodded, relieved. That was the first hurdle over, then. He crossed to where a row of comfortable chairs were arranged along the wall and lowered himself into one of the cushioned seats. He stretched out his legs and looked at his watch for the umpteenth time. It was barely eight o’clock.
It seemed only seconds later when a side door opened and the consultant poked his head out. ‘Declan. Come through, mate.’
The two men shook hands warmly. ‘Thanks for seeing me at such short notice, Matt,’ Declan said.
‘Happy to do it.’ The consultant’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. ‘Have to look after our own, don’t we? Now, could I organize coffee?’
Declan’s stomach protested. ‘No—no, thanks. I’m fine.’
‘Right, let’s put you through your paces, then.’
Matthew’s examination was painstaking, his questions, and Declan imagined there were a thousand of them, probing. ‘OK,’ he said finally. ‘That’s it for now. Anything you want clarified?’
‘The residual pain I experienced after I’d been in Theatre?’
‘Pretty normal. It would have helped if you’d been able to ease yourself back into work rather than go for a seven-hour marathon straight away,’ he suggested dryly.
‘I was faced with an emergency,’ Declan said. ‘Not much choice there.’
‘Probably not.’ Matthew’s mouth pursed thoughtfully. ‘You can get dressed now, Declan. Come back out when you’re ready and we’ll have a chat. It’s looking good, by the way,’ he added before pulling back the screen and returning to his desk.
Declan felt one layer of trepidation roll off him. One step at a time, though. That was all it could be until he knew…
‘You appear to have healed particularly well,’ said Matthew. ‘Your spine is in good order.’ He amplified the statement with technical language because he rightly guessed Declan would want the clinical assessment. ‘Now, all that said, I’d like you to have an MRI before I can give you definitive answers.’
Declan gave a resigned grin. ‘I was afraid you’d stick me with one of those.’
‘You betcha. But, with the new technology, they’re less onerous than they used to be.’ Matthew picked up his phone and spoke briefly to his receptionist. ‘Do the best you can,’ he ended. ‘Thanks.’ He clipped the phone back on its cradle. ‘There’s normally a bit of a wait on these. How soon do you need to be back at your practice?’
In an instant Declan was transported back to Kingsholme, visualizing Emma beavering away through the morning’s list, her fair head bent over the patients’ notes. She probably hadn’t had a moment to think of him. But he’d had the whole of the weekend to think of her. And she was filling his heart to overflowing. But his feelings were laced with vulnerability. Such vulnerability. He wasn’t sure of her or her feelings for him. ‘My partner is holding the fort but I’d like to get back as soon as possible.’
Matthew nodded, his hand reaching o
ut as his phone pad lit discreetly. He leaned back in his chair, holding the receiver loosely and listened. ‘OK, thanks, Jill. Excellent. We’re in luck,’ he said, replacing the handset. ‘The imaging centre has a cancellation. How does ten-thirty sound?’
Although he wasn’t particularly looking forward to the procedure, Declan nodded gratefully. ‘Sounds good. Which centre do you use?’
‘The new state-of-the-art set-up in St Kilda. Jill will give you the address. Then I’ll need to see you again and discuss things.’ Matthew pulled his diary open and studied it. ‘I’m not in Theatre today so I could see you, let’s see—around four this afternoon?’ he suggested, sending a quizzical glance across his desk.
‘I’ll be here.’ The two men stood and shook hands again.
‘A word of advice, Declan,’ Matthew said as he saw his patient out. ‘Don’t spend the day sweating about outcomes. I’ll see you back here at four.’
Outside the building, Declan took a moment to get his bearings. He hardly remembered getting here this morning, so totally preoccupied as he’d been with the weight of his medical appointment. Now, he felt better, freer. The worst was over. His fitness hadn’t lapsed and, whatever the outcome of the MRI, he knew now he could make a life for himself in medicine, even if it couldn’t be permanently in the operating theatre. He’d enjoyed being a family practitioner more than he’d ever thought he would.
The feeling of optimism startled him, refreshed him. God, it felt good just be out in the world again, in a city he loved.
Suddenly he longed to share his news with someone who cared. He grimaced. Emma was out of the question. He had a lot of making up to do before he could expect her to listen to him. Both his sisters would be at work. Hailing a passing cab, he got in and gave the St Kilda address of the imaging centre. Then it came to him. There was someone he could talk to.
At the airport, Declan prowled past the ticketing booth yet again. He’d been waiting on standby for his flight to Brisbane. Several flights had been called but each time he’d missed out on a seat. Another flight was about to depart and he had to get on board if he was to have any chance of seeing Emma tonight.
He almost missed his name when it was called. Finally. Thank God. He looped his carry-on bag over his shoulder and strode swiftly down the covered walkway to the waiting aircraft.
Emma sat on the sofa in a kind of twilight daze. Earlier, she’d been for a run and on her return she’d showered and dressed in her track pants and fleecy top. She supposed she should go to bed but she knew she’d never sleep. She’d had one brief text message from Declan telling her he’d be back some time tonight. She wondered how late his flight had got in.
She should have swallowed her pride and texted back and insisted he stay the night in Brisbane. With the possibility of a fog always present, driving up that mountain road at night was fraught with risks.
When the knock sounded on the back door, she lifted her head sharply towards the sound, her heart swooping. Swallowing back a little cry of anguish, she half-ran, halfwalked to the door. Reaching for the latch, she yanked it open.
Seeing him there, smiling, expectant, in one piece, when she’d envisaged all kinds of calamities, she felt suddenly overwhelmed by anger. ‘What time do you call this, Declan? It’s after midnight!’
The amber in her eyes glittered like fiery embers. She was beautiful and he suddenly realized he couldn’t wait a moment longer to tell her how he felt about her. Feeling he was opening up his chest and showing her his heart, he said, ‘I love you, Emma. I’m never letting you go.’
‘Ooh—’ Emma felt all the breath leave her body, a great jumble of emotions tumble around inside her. Was she dreaming? She stood frozen, love, hope and joy colliding in a great ball in her chest.
‘Emma?’ His eyes clouded. ‘I’m freezing to death here. Did you hear what I said?’
She gave a frenzied little nod and found her voice. ‘Come inside then, you crazy man.’ She drew him inside to the warmth of the lounge room. And turned to him, eyes overbright. ‘You must have been mad driving up the range at this time of night.’
‘I must have been.’ His eyes glinted and he reached for her and pulled her hard against him. ‘Mad for the sight of you,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Do you love me too?’
Emma took a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed suddenly by recent events. ‘Of course I love you.’
‘Oh, thank God,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you,’ he echoed, pressing kisses all over her face. ‘I never want to be away from you again.’
They were words she’d longed to hear. But she wasn’t letting him off the hook just yet. ‘You owe me an explanation, Declan. I’ve been going slowly crazy wondering where your head was at for these past couple of days. Did I do something wrong—say something wrong?’
‘No! It wasn’t you—it was me. After Jodi’s surgery, I was so preoccupied with my own problems, I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘We should have debriefed,’ she insisted. ‘I needed it as much as you.’
‘Yes, you did. I honestly didn’t realize.’ He frowned down into her face. ‘I wasn’t feeling all that great after Jodi’s surgery,’ he confessed, his voice a bit scratchy. ‘But I didn’t want to burden you. I’d pushed you to support me and I was afraid my career might be completely over—that you’d be forever lumbered with a practice partner—and a lover—who couldn’t pull his weight…’
‘Oh, my God—Declan!’ Emma shook her head as if she couldn’t believe his thought processes.
‘I know, I know,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘It all sounds a bit pathetic and over-reactive now.’
‘Shh.’ She placed her fingers on his lips. ‘It was a big deal for you. I should have understood that. I guess I was a bit selfish.’
‘You’re the least selfish person I know,’ he countered.
Emma curled her fingers up around his neck. ‘Are you terribly tired—or could we talk?’
The curve of her bottom through the soft stuff of her track pants felt good tucked into his palms and he shook his head. ‘I’ll never be too tired for you, Emma.’
They stoked up the fire and fell on to the sofa in a tight tangle of arms and legs, her cheek pressed against his chest so that she could hear the steady rhythm of his heart. ‘So—’ she paused and reached up to touch his face, stroking the dark shadows around his eyes with gentle fingers ‘—what did you do in Melbourne?’
His brain fizzed with technical information but he kept it simple, telling her about his medical appointments but leaving nothing out.
‘And what did Dr Levingston say when you went back to see him?’ She almost held her breath for his answer.
‘That I’m fully recovered.’ He looked suddenly youthful, eager. ‘I can operate again without fearing I’ll fall over.’
‘Oh, Declan!’ Emma’s pulse trebled before she could put the brakes on. ‘I’m so happy for you,’ she said, but thinking also what this new state of affairs could mean to them personally, to their practice, if he wanted to leave…‘It’s going to change things here, isn’t it?’
‘Only if it’s what we both want.’ He looked down at her, his face unsmiling, deep in concentration. ‘I had plenty of time to think while I was waiting for a flight home. I came up with a couple of possibilities.’
‘OK…’ Emma felt a hard-edged little lump that lodged somewhere in her chest. ‘Tell me.’
‘Well, we could leave things as they are,’ he said slowly. ‘I’m sure I could schedule enough orthopaedic work in Toowoomba to keep my hand in, as well as pulling my weight here in the practice.’
Emma looked doubtful. ‘Would that be fulfilling enough for you, though?’
‘Yes,’ he said without hesitation. ‘If that’s what you want too. I’ve learned a lot here. Being a doctor in a rural practice carries clout, enables you to get things done for people. Good things. Necessary things. It’s a great feeling.’
Oh, she was so glad he felt like that. ‘That’s what I think too.’
<
br /> He smiled. ‘Yes. I knew that.’
‘And we could open up the OR here and do basic procedures, like Dad did,’ Emma expanded. ‘Rachel’s staying, by the way. I talked to her yesterday.’
‘That’s good. She’s needed here.’
Emma noticed he’d gone quiet. He looked tired, she thought. And a little strained. It made her love him more. Made her want to smooth out those lines around his eyes and mouth with her fingers, and with her lips…They’d get to that. Later. ‘What was the other possibility you came up with, then?’
‘Ah!’ There was life in his face again. ‘I thought we could lease out the practice for a year and go and live in Melbourne.’
‘Melbourne?’ This was right out of left field. Emma wriggled upright. ‘What would we do there?’
‘I could go back to the OR full-time, be part of a surgical team again.’
‘I see.’ A tiny frown came to rest between her brows. ‘And what would I do?’
‘You, my love, could get a place in an anaesthetist training programme, upgrade your skills so you could be my gas woman when we come back to Kingsholme.’
She chuckled. ‘Your gas woman? I like the sound of it, though. But would I get into a programme? I imagine places are at a premium.’
‘I know a few faces,’ he said modestly. ‘And I imagine if you used your dad’s name in the right places, doors would open.’
Emma digested all that. The idea appealed to her. Quite a lot, actually. ‘I think I’d really, really like to do that,’ she said quietly. ‘But we’d need to get someone of calibre for Kingsholme.’
‘We would. If we offered a year’s tenure, we’d be sure to get quality applicants.’
‘And we will come back to Kingsholme eventually, won’t we?’
