by Sue MacKay
Someone clapped, and that was quickly followed by the whole room joining in. Oh, my goodness.
Waiting for the noise to die down, Tori shifted from foot to foot. All I’m doing is telling it like it is. Glancing at her watch, she was astonished to see that twenty minutes had gone by already.
This meant so much to her, had been her life, in some ways replacing Ben and the baby. Maybe she overdid the workload, but what did that matter if she was helping these children and their families? ‘I’ve seen these children, held their hands, wiped their tears, dulled their pain, encouraged them to get on in life. Sometimes I’ve sat at their bedsides all night long. These are normal, everyday children who find themselves in a difficult predicament because no one understood that a simple strep throat could go wild.’ She had the audience completely. She felt it in the air—as though everyone was holding their breath.
‘Then there are the parents. Guilt eats at them, tears them to pieces when they understand what went wrong and how easily it could’ve been prevented. Trying to tell them it’s not their fault does nothing to alleviate their pain. Only education on all levels is going to do that for the next parents who have a sick child.
‘Thomas’s parents still blame themselves three years on from learning that the same strep throat his sister recovered from quickly had done this to their beloved boy. Even now when Thomas is getting on with his life they’re bewildered about how it happened. The point is, it shouldn’t have occurred in a modern society such as New Zealand’s. And we’re not the only Western country dealing with these outbreaks. It is not a disease of the past. It is here, on our doorsteps, doing damage, now.’
She took another sip of water to give her throat time to unblock. ‘Next I’m going to discuss three case studies with you.’ An usher could’ve yelled ‘Bomb!’ and Tori doubted anyone would’ve heard and, she suspected, not just because many were concentrating on the translators babbling in their earpieces. Wow. Amazing. I’m doing fine.
The third case told of the downside of what Tori did for sick children. She wrapped up with, ‘Caroline was too weak to fight the fight needed to save her life. Losing a patient is incredibly hard, but we can’t win every battle. I try, believe me, I try. But...’ she looked around the auditorium ‘...medicine isn’t perfect and neither are its practitioners.’
Once again she found her gaze drifting down to the front row and Ben. He was watching her with a stunned look on his face, and when their eyes connected he mouthed, ‘You’re right.’
Tori nodded before saying to the audience, ‘To finish, I have one more short clip to show you.’ She pressed a button on her laptop and once again the screen filled with kids playing rugby. Only this time Thomas was on the sideline, walking up and down, shouting encouragement to the children.
Tori knew she was smiling as she watched. She was so proud of her patient. At the end she returned to the microphone. ‘Thomas now coaches school rugby and this year started training to become a teacher. But for rheumatic fever he might’ve become an All Black. And, believe me, the French can be relieved he didn’t.’
Except for the laughter, it was over. She’d done it, thanks to Ben getting her started.
Monsieur Leclare gave her a kiss on each cheek before turning to the audience. ‘That, ladies and gentlemen, is why we invited the Heart Lady to speak to us. Named that by her young patients because they obviously understand how much she cares. She has touched all of us with her sincerity about her patients and her work with them. Today we heard such passion that I believe Madame Tori Wells has reminded each and every one of us of why we are doctors.’
Tori could feel tears backing up in her throat as everyone stood to clap her off the stage. Tears for Thomas and all the other youngsters like him. Tears for not being able to give them back life as they’d known it.
Then Ben stepped in front of her and wrapped his arms around her. ‘That was brilliant. Just brilliant.’
* * *
‘What a difference twenty-four hours can make.’ Ben watched Tori being waylaid by yet another delegate as she tried to make her way across the beautifully decorated room in which they were attending the conference cocktail party. Last night she’d been reluctant to join him; tonight her eyes expressed the desire to reach him as soon as possible even if only to put space between her and her adoring fans. But she was being gracious, stopping to answer questions and talk to anyone who waylaid her.
‘She’s a star,’ said Rita. ‘That was some talk today.’
‘You were there?’ Ben couldn’t take his eyes off Tori. That raw emotion in her voice as she’d spoken to the conference had stayed with him all day. It had been so genuine it had touched everyone. This was a side to Tori he hadn’t experienced before—or not in such depth.
‘John sneaked me in. I wanted to hear what your Heart Lady was all about, and now I know. She’s amazing. Neither is she afraid to admit she doesn’t get it right all the time.’
Yeah, he’d got that message. But, then, he’d not denied his error of judgement, either. He’d told the board of inquiry, just not his wife. ‘No wonder the Wells Heart Clinic is becoming famous.’ Pride mingled with sadness. Unfortunately Tori was not his Heart Lady, but she had owned his heart. ‘She’ll never leave New Zealand for a career elsewhere.’
He didn’t realise he’d said that bit out loud until Rita tapped his arm. ‘You could always move back home.’
The understanding in her voice nearly undid him. His mixed-up emotions about his ex were private and yet his friends seemed to know exactly what was going on in his head and heart—probably better than he did. But, then, they’d been there the day the divorce had become final, John getting drunk with him and Rita hugging him the next morning and cooking him a hangover-breaking breakfast. You want closure, remember? Not a rerun.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he searched for a neutral subject—anything to get away from Rita’s telling comment. ‘Have you and Tori hit the shops yet?’
Rita fixed him with wide eyes. ‘Excuse me? Aren’t I looking stunning?’
He grinned. ‘You always do.’
‘Cheeky.’ Rita swiped his arm. ‘Get an eyeful of Tori. That emerald-green sheath was made for her. It’s perfect.’
He’d had an eyeful. More than one. He hadn’t been able to stop staring from the moment he’d seen her enter the room. The dress was superb, again defining her height, highlighting all her curves and emphasising the colour of those sparkling eyes. Tonight she’d let her hair fall loose over her shoulders, the many shades of red gleaming under the lights. She looked good enough to eat.
Ben sighed. Unfortunately he wasn’t the only one waiting impatiently to talk to her. At the rate this was going he’d get to say hello about the time the cocktail party wrapped up.
‘We could go snaffle her,’ Rita said.
He’d like nothing better. He also didn’t want to get on the wrong side of her when so far today they’d managed get along without any hiccups. ‘What? Spoil her night? I don’t think so.’
‘Wise man.’ John added his euro’s worth. ‘How about we four go out to a restaurant after this shindig’s over?’
‘I’d like that.’ But would Tori?
‘Ask her.’ Rita nudged him, obviously having picked up on his doubt. ‘When you get a chance.’
‘She is kind of popular, isn’t she?’ Ben felt another wave of pride blitz him. The big thing to come out of that talk, apart from her passion, was that she really didn’t know how much she’d touched everyone. Or if she did she was very circumspect about it. But, hey, this was Tori, the girl who’d never forced her opinions on anyone. The one time he’d thought she’d been going to, he’d shut her down before a word had got out and landed between them like a grenade with the pin pulled. How would their lives, their marriage have turned out if he had listened? If he’d sat down and told her every
thing, especially how he’d been thinking of the kudos he’d get from his colleagues and pride from his father when he successfully did a procedure until then untried in New Zealand and which had resulted in his patient’s death? He would never know what she’d thought. His shame had ruled. He hadn’t wanted to see the disdain enter her eyes, hadn’t wanted her to think him less than the best at his work.
John waved over a waitress laden with a very full tray of wine and champagne. ‘Rita? Ben?’
‘I’m in France. Champagne is the only way to go.’
‘Me, too,’ Ben told him.
As Ben lifted his glass to his lips he glanced across to Tori again and met her full-on look. Rescue required seemed to blink out at him over the sudden gap in the crowd. They’d always done that for each other at functions they’d had to attend with his parents.
‘Here, hold mine, will you?’ He thrust the glass at John. ‘I’ll be back.’
He reached Tori as two eminent surgeons from New York started asking her questions about the surgery she performed. ‘Hey.’ He leaned close to her and tucked an arm around her waist. When she tensed he didn’t move, waiting for her to relax again.
One of her fans jerked his head around to stare at him as though he was an interloper. Couldn’t fault that. He was, in a way. ‘Benjamin Wells, isn’t it? From London?’ The guy thrust a hand forward. ‘Adrian Packer, senior cardiologist.’ He named one of the most well-known hospitals in the United States, sounding as though there really was no other hospital to be working at. ‘Your wife certainly set us back on our butts today, reminding us about grassroots medicine like that.’
My wife? Yeah, well. Relieved he hadn’t acted badly before Adrian had had his say, Ben shook the extended hand with warmth. ‘Tori has a way of doing that.’
Her head twisted around and her chin came up as she stared at him. ‘I do? Why, thank you, Mr Wells.’ Then she turned back to the two men, who looked like they could stay talking to her all night. ‘Would you mind dreadfully if I joined Ben and our friends for a while? I don’t wish to be rude, but I’m feeling overwhelmed with all the attention.’
Adrian smiled in an avuncular way. ‘Of course, my dear. I’m sure your husband is envious of all the attention you’re getting.’
Ben saw her mouth open to refute the husband part of that statement and he tapped her waist to shut her up. These two were being kind, letting her off the hook, but learn that he wasn’t her husband and she might be stuck with them for hours. She got the hint and let him lead her away before she felt obliged to say anything else and get caught up in conversation again.
Then she frowned at him. ‘Thanks for saving me. I’m sorry everyone seems to think we’re married. If it’s causing you any problems I’ll make sure word gets around that we’re divorced.’
His heart knocked painfully against his ribs. Funny but he didn’t care that people might think they were husband and wife. ‘You going to wear a sign around your neck?’
There must’ve been something in his voice that gave him away because Tori stopped and turned to stare at him. ‘Ben?’
He didn’t like the worry flaring in her eyes or the ‘we definitely aren’t married any more’ look—even when it was true and he had no intention of changing the situation. But for some inexplicable reason it rankled. ‘Come on. John and Rita are waiting for us.’
He still had to ask if she’d like to join them for dinner. His chances of her saying yes had probably gone down the tube.
But he hadn’t counted on Rita. After the women had swapped compliments on the results of their shopping expedition, which they were wearing, Rita quietly slipped in, ‘Tori, John and I found a delightful restaurant on our first night here and we’re keen to go there again. Would you like to join us after this is over and make a foursome?’
She’s going to say no, Rita. Ben held his breath and stared at an interesting spot on the floor.
‘That’d be lovely. You are talking French food, aren’t you?’ Tori’s voice lightened.
‘Is there any other?’ Rita drained her glass and gave Ben a wink over the rim.
He swallowed a laugh and looked for a waiter. ‘Tori, would you like a sparkling water?’
‘Please.’ Coolly spoken.
Still not completely back onside, then. Ben shrugged. That was okay. Dinner would be enjoyable and friendly with John and Rita there to keep the jokes and conversation rolling along. Hopefully by the end of the evening Tori would’ve got past this little hiccup in their oddball relationship.
‘Good, that’s sorted.’ Rita opened her handbag and pulled out her phone. ‘Tori, let me bore you with photos of our kids.’
Tori stiffened, gulped her water, then deliberately dropped her shoulders and leaned closer to Rita. ‘They’re gorgeous.’ She blinked, twice. ‘How old are they?’
Ben was fascinated with her reaction. Tori loved children. After all, she’d specialised in caring for them. They’d even talked about having their own family one day. He wondered whether Tori was worried that she might never have kids now. At thirty-six, her biological clock was probably ticking. Loudly, in fact. He winced. Not a lot he could do to help her out.
Dinner didn’t eventuate. No one had realised just how many plates of canapés were circulating the room, all too delicious to ignore.
After two hours Rita said, ‘I couldn’t eat dinner now. How about we go to the restaurant tomorrow night?’
Ben agreed. ‘Sounds good to me. The conference winds up late tomorrow afternoon so we’ll be left to our own devices anyway.’
Tori had relaxed. ‘To be honest, I’m exhausted. I’d have been a wet blanket at dinner. If we can sneak away I think I’ll go for a stroll along the promenade, get some fresh air.’
Rita’s eyes lit up and Ben had to swallow his disappointment. He’d been planning on asking Tori to take a walk with him—alone.
Rita said, ‘John and I have been ready to leave for a while now.’ She nudged John. ‘Haven’t we, darling?’
‘Been counting the minutes.’ The look of pure love John gave his wife twisted a knife in Ben’s heart.
Lucky man. It was obvious where those two were headed, and it wasn’t along the promenade. ‘See you in the morning.’
Tori gave Rita a hug. ‘Thanks for the shopping.’
Ben watched as John wrapped an arm around Rita’s waist and tucked her close while whispering in her ear.
Envy gripped Ben. I had that once—with Tori. Then anger replaced the envy. We threw it away. Both of us. What fools. What stupid, idiotic fools. Especially me. I could’ve found another way to cope with everything, allowed her closer and told her the whole sordid story, not just parts of it.
He strode towards the entrance, intent on getting away from people, but it wasn’t easy, with the crowd beginning to move in the same direction. It seemed everyone had a similar idea of hitting the promenade. As he waited impatiently to slip through the throng of people he felt a hand on his upper arm.
‘Ben? Are you going for a walk?’
He turned to Tori, growled, ‘That’s where I’m headed, if I ever get out of here.’ He turned back, ignoring the blink of shock on her face.
Her hand no longer touched him. He felt the loss immediately and glanced over his shoulder to see Tori pushing in the opposite direction. Her head was held high and that hair spilled down almost to her waist. Her shoulders were so tight they had to be aching.
‘Hell.’ He swore some more under his breath and followed her, finally catching up as she sank onto a chair at the table they’d all vacated less than five minutes ago.
As she reached for the bottle of water he lightly touched her shoulder. Yep, the muscles under that dress were tight enough to snap. ‘Tori, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have barked at you.’
‘Why not? It’s no more than I deserve for t
hinking you might want to spend time with me. It’s not as though we’re together any more. Sometimes over these two days I’ve found it hard to believe we let it go, you know?’ She didn’t look at him, instead concentrated on pouring some water into a glass. Most of the liquid spilled onto the table.
He couldn’t believe what she’d just admitted. But he wouldn’t be fooled into thinking there was a chance of a reconciliation. Tori had to be talking friendship, not full-on love. The problem with that was that reconciliation was not closure. He pulled out another chair and straddled it. Took the bottle and filled the glass for her. ‘Yes, I do know what you mean.’
‘This whole scenario is...’ she shrugged eloquently ‘...strange.’ She raised the glass to her lips.
Strange wasn’t a word he’d have used, more like tricky, but she’d got her sentiment across. ‘How would you like it to be between us?’
Tori spluttered into the water, wiped her mouth with an abandoned napkin lying on the tabletop. A bright shade of pink flowed into her cheeks as her gaze settled on a spot on the table. ‘If I said friends, that seems too insignificant, yet what else can we be? I’m trying not to think about it.’
‘You’re fibbing.’
She still didn’t look at him. ‘I know.’
Removing the glass from her shaky grasp, he wrapped his hand around her fingers and stood up, bringing her to her feet beside him. ‘Come with me along the Quai. I’d like some quiet time—with you.’
Her head lifted and those eyes that he used to get lost in locked with his. Deep emerald pools that sucked him in and wrapped a layer of warmth around his thawing heart. Eyes that reminded him of things he shouldn’t want ever again, was afraid to risk having again. Tori probably didn’t know it but her gaze twisted his gut and brought all the love and need he’d known for her charging through his head, his heart and his soul. So much for getting over her.
For the life of him, he could not release her hand.
