The Heart Surgeon's Proposal

by Meredith Webber

  She raised her head and offered a watery smile to Phil.

  ‘Silly man—he was so sure it would be a son!’

  ‘And you didn’t try again. Didn’t want to, later on?’

  Maggie shook her head.

  ‘I can’t make myself believe that dead people know what’s happening back on earth. I like the idea of a heaven, but I’m a doctor. I believe people live on in the memories of those who loved them, and in the people whose lives were touched by them, or are still touched in some way. Jack lives on that way.’

  ‘Jack still touches people’s lives?’

  Maggie’s face cleared of the grief he’d seen wash across it.

  ‘He does,’ she said simply, then she smiled at Phil. ‘He’s the charitable institution I talked about earlier. The one that will pay for the Barrons’ angel. Jack’s Way, it’s called, because he always believed you should show people how you feel about them in a practical way.’

  She hesitated but Phil wanted—needed?—to know more.

  ‘Go on,’ he encouraged, and won another smile, this one slightly embarrassed.

  ‘It’s funny to think how young we were!’ Maggie said softly, still smiling.

  Then she looked into Phil’s eyes.

  ‘When we were students, first and second year, we spent so much time sitting around talking, nearly always putting the world to rights. Were you the same? I imagine most young people are. Anyway, Jack maintained you should do what you can to help others who were trying to help themselves. Helping themselves was the important part. People who didn’t try—who just took whatever they could get from government agencies or charities—infuriated Jack, but real battlers, well, he always had time for them.’

  ‘So Jack’s Way helps out battlers?’ Phil prompted. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know any more about this obviously saintly husband, but at the same time he was learning more about Maggie than he ever had before. ‘Do you fundraise? How did you set it up?’

  Maggie ate another piece of chicken then pushed her bowl away.

  ‘He had a huge life insurance policy. Neither of us knew that, but his father had taken it out when Jack was young, thinking he could eventually cash it in when he wanted to buy a house. The last thing anyone expected was that a young healthy man would die.’

  She paused and Phil waited.

  ‘I didn’t want the money,’ she added in a small voice, ‘so, with some friends, we founded Jack’s Way and now every year the university students’ union puts money into it as well, so we don’t ever have to touch the principal but can use interest and donations to fund things like some help for the Barrons. We tend to do the small stuff that big agencies don’t handle—things that don’t cost much but, because we can put help in place immediately, can make a tremendous difference for families in times of crisis.’

  Phil shook his head.

  ‘What else have you done?’

  Radiance shone through her smile this time.

  ‘We’ve done the most amazing things, but they’re simple things really. Flying a woman to South America after her daughter was injured in a car accident, bringing a grandmother out from England to take care of a suddenly orphaned family, paying for a young boy who’d lost his legs to go to the US for special prosthetics. We don’t publicise the donations or help we give, but the larger agencies know about us, and hospitals in Melbourne are aware we exist, so somehow people in need seem to find us. It’s confidential, the help we give—no, anonymous is probably a better word. I’ve only talked to you about it because of the Barrons.’

  ‘And because you wanted to think about something other than miscarriages?’ Phil said, reaching out to take her hand. ‘Come on, it’s very late. Let’s go to bed. My bed, so I can hold and comfort you. It’s way too late for anything but sleep. OK?’

  Maggie looked at him, aware that the relationship between them had shifted into a different dimension.

  Whether for better or worse, she wasn’t sure, but she knew with the ghosts she’d raised this evening still floating around her head, her own bed would have been a very sad and lonely place.

  But…

  ‘Phil, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Going to bed with you—continuing a physical relationship…’ She paused and even managed a smile. ‘And don’t tell me we wouldn’t get physical no matter how late it is. It’s just going to make things harder in the end.’

  ‘In what end?’ he asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

  ‘In the end when we say that it’s over.’

  ‘But why need it be over? Why will this end come? We’re good together, Mags, and be positive—we’ll have the baby. And more babies to keep the little scrap company—that’s if you want more babies—’

  Maggie held up her hand to stop him talking before he dug himself into more trouble. She knew she’d reached the stage where only the truth would do, but she was so used to keeping all her feelings bottled up inside her she found it hard to put them into words.

  ‘Being good together isn’t enough for me, Phil. I married once for convenience. Oh, I loved Jack dearly and would have done anything for him—marrying him was no sacrifice. But if I marry again, it has to be for love. Not because I’m pregnant.’

  She looked into the blue eyes of the man who’d sneaked in under her guard and stolen her heart, and saw confusion and more than a little pain. Standing up, she moved around the table and bent to kiss him on the cheek.

  ‘I love you, Phil, but one-sided love’s a desperate, lonely place to be. Let’s wait and see about the baby, then make arrangements when and if we need to.’

  It was as good an exit line as any, she thought as she walked out of the kitchen, her unfinished meal still on the table.

  It was Phil’s job to clear away and stack the dishwasher anyway, she told herself, as she dragged her weary body up the bed.

  And you will not cry, she added silently. Not tonight and not any night. Your hormones aren’t in that much of a mess.

  But waking in the morning, she found her pillow strangely damp and realised her willpower hadn’t worked while she’d slept.

  The house was empty, a note from Phil saying he’d gone to work early tucked under the vase of flowers she’d never thanked him for.

  Phil found her in the small lounge off the theatre, writing up notes on the operation they’d completed earlier. She hadn’t heard him come in, and he watched her for a few seconds, the words she’d said last night echoing in his head.

  He’d thought of Maggie as self-contained—right from when he’d first met her—but was that self-containment a cover for the lonely place she spoke of? Had she loved someone else who hadn’t loved her? Someone after Jack?

  Or was he, Phil, the one who’d sent her into exile there?

  She’d said she loved him but there’d been despair in her words, and it had been that despair that had haunted him throughout the night.

  Oh, she’d mentioned love earlier—even, if he remembered rightly, asked if he could offer it to her. But he’d brushed it aside, thinking love was connected with his dream—thinking about his version of what love might be, not what he might gain from giving it.

  But if he said that now, told her he loved her as Maggie and she was more important to him than any childhood dream, would she believe it?

  Probably not! He was finding it hard to believe himself—this tumultuous shift in his emotions.

  So rather than rush into action as he had already—engagement announcements and flowers, to name but two incidents—he had better make sure he explained what he was feeling in a very convincing manner.

  And at an appropriate time…

  Which wasn’t right now.

  He moved towards her, speaking quietly.

  ‘I’ve made an appointment for us to see the obstetrician at four. He has rooms on the sixth floor—six-four-seven.’

  She looked up and frowned, as if trying to place him, then she shook her head.

  ‘You know once a woman’s pregnant it’s t
oo late to do any tests to find out why she might have miscarried previously? All an obstetrician will say is wait and see.’

  ‘But between eight and twelve weeks you can have a scan to date the baby’s birth—I was reading up on it last night. They do a measurement called CRL—crown-rump length—and from a scale can tell exactly when it’s due. Great, isn’t it?’

  He’d been fascinated by the things he’d learnt but Maggie didn’t seem to be sharing his fascination. In fact, her frown seemed to have grown deeper.

  ‘I’m not having a scan,’ she said firmly.

  ‘But—’

  ‘No, Phil, I’m not! Neither am I seeing an obstetrician—not yet.’

  She sighed, then closed the book she had beside the file on the coffee-table.

  ‘Look, I may not have sought medical advice about why I’d miscarried twice or had tests done, but I was a med student, for heaven’s sake. I did look into it. If you want facts and figures, twenty per cent of pregnant women miscarry—that’s one in five—most too early to recognise it as a miscarriage. Usually it’s because of a foetal abnormality but occasionally it’s a physical problem. The woman has an infection, there are environmental factors like smoking and drinking or even stress, which I was certainly suffering at the time. Then there are endocrine disorders.’

  She sighed.

  ‘The list goes on, Phil, but without knowing the exact cause, the best obstetrician in the world wouldn’t be able to do anything right now.’

  Maggie watched him, hoping this was sinking in—hoping mostly that he’d just walk away.

  But hope didn’t seem to be on her side right now. He came closer to sit on the couch beside her.

  ‘I understand all of that, but why no obstetrician appointment? Why no scan?’

  She turned to face him, then turned away again, her hand moving to protect her stomach. Then dipped her head so he wouldn’t read the pain she felt in her face.

  ‘Because having it confirmed—worse, seeing it on a scan—would make the baby so much more real. I’m sorry, but, knowing I might lose it, I can handle things—just—the way they are. But if I see its shape—at eight weeks it’s got a face, Phil, the beginning of features, even a chin—no, I don’t want to know this baby that intimately, thank you.’

  The final words croaked out past all the emotional turmoil in her chest, but she got them said. Whether Phil understood or not, she didn’t know and tried not to care.

  But she did care, wanting his understanding nearly as much as she longed for his love.

  Surely understanding wasn’t too much to ask for…

  ‘Ah, glad to find the two of you together. We’re in strife—we as in the unit—and Alex wants to talk to the whole team in the rooms a.s.a.p.’

  Had Annie, standing in the doorway, heard their conversation? She looked concerned but she would be, if the continuation of the unit was at risk.

  ‘We’ll be right with you.’

  Phil answered for both of them, but though Maggie rose immediately to her feet he was slower, taking his time, waiting until Annie had departed then pulling Maggie into his arms and holding her close.

  ‘It’s your call, Mags,’ he said softly. ‘Whatever you want. Whatever it’s in my power to give you. I mean that.’

  She held him close for a moment, then pushed away, looking up into his face.

  ‘Except love,’ she reminded him.

  And it was too late for him to tell her.

  Love was forgotten as they joined the team, propped against desks in the suite of rooms, no one sitting down, which seemed strange. Until they learned of a medical negligence case being brought against the hospital following the death of Dr Ellis’s patient.

  Bad news apparently required you to be upright when you heard it!

  ‘Are we mentioned specifically in the charge? Me? The unit?’ Phil asked.

  Alex shook his head.

  ‘The charge is against the hospital but although it could take years to get to court, the hospital is taking it seriously and moving towards palliative—if that’s the word in law as well as medicine—measures now.’

  ‘Like blaming us and closing the unit?’

  Rachel asked the question in all their minds.

  ‘Something like that,’ Annie explained. ‘That way, when the case comes to court, or if they decide to go to mediation, the hospital can say, well, the problem was within this trial unit we’d set up, and we’ve now disbanded it so it won’t happen again. A copout.’

  ‘But the hospital would still have to pay if negligence is proved,’ Maggie put in.

  ‘The hospital has insurance, we all have insurance, it’s only the insurance companies who pay,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Yes, they’ll make the actual pay-out—part with the money—but they’re also the ones who’ll look for someone else to blame,’ Kurt told her. ‘The hospital’s insurance company will come gunning for the unit, or for the insurance company that provides cover for the unit members.’

  ‘But they have to prove negligence,’ Annie said. ‘Maybe we’re getting all worked up over nothing.’

  ‘They can’t and won’t prove negligence against us,’ Alex said grimly. ‘Phil made the absolutely correct decision, but don’t tell me the administrators wouldn’t prefer us as the scapegoat rather than Dr Ellis. After all, they’ll figure most of the current unit staff will be gone before the case comes to court. Other hospital interests have already been clamouring to have both our funding and our theatre. They can offer a sop to the complainant’s solicitors and placate their own departments all at once.’

  ‘But if they use us as a scapegoat it will tarnish your and Phil’s reputations. Phil’s specifically,’ Kurt pointed out. ‘There’s no way we can accept some kind of compromise or be shuffled quietly off into the sunset to give them something to offer to the other side’s solicitors.’

  ‘I could leave.’

  Maggie knew she wasn’t the only one who’d been struck dumb by Phil’s pronouncement, but she was probably the only one whose heart stopped beating.

  ‘Nonsense!’

  Annie put everyone’s feelings into one succinct word, but Phil held up his hand before anyone else could object.

  ‘No, listen to me. It’s the only sensible solution. If I get out, the team’s reputation remains untarnished.’

  ‘But yours…’

  Rachel moved to stand beside him, unable to put her argument into words but wanting to show support.

  ‘There’s no way I’d allow that,’ Alex said, also moving a little closer to his friend and colleague.

  Maggie watched and wondered if any of them had noticed their physical reactions—if they were aware of moving closer to Phil.

  She was by his side anyway, but had never felt further away. She had no idea what to say or do, but her heart, which had resumed beating, now ached with a weary kind of confusion. Was it because she was standing next to Phil that she sensed the pain his words had caused him? Or was it because she loved him and love had unconsciously discovered all the little nuances in his voice, and speech, and movements?

  ‘You wouldn’t have to allow it, Alex,’ Phil said quietly. ‘I’d resign.’

  ‘You’re not through your fellowship,’ Alex said, angry now. ‘And you’d be letting me down—and the whole team. We are a team, remember, and we stick together.’

  ‘Scott can take my place. He’s not had the experience, but he’s going to be very good. Possibly better than me. For difficult cases, you can always get someone over from Children’s. It’s the way things were done here before—a paeds cardiac surgeon from over there, helping one of the adult surgeons from here.’

  ‘But you can’t leave with a cloud over your head,’ Annie protested. ‘It will ruin your whole future, and it’s such a bright future, Phil.’

  ‘Is it?’ he said, then, after touching Maggie lightly on the hand, he turned and left the room.

  Maggie knew the rest of the team was looking at her, waiting for her to f
ollow him—talk some sense into him—but her legs wouldn’t have carried her anywhere and, as she felt her knees give way, she sank down onto the nearest chair.

  Talk broke out around her, but she barely heard it, wondering what had pushed Phil to take this stance. Then she heard Alex calling for quiet.

  ‘Are we all agreed we’ll fight this business as a team and not let Phil accept the role of scapegoat?’

  Loud noises of agreement.

  ‘And that we’ll fight whatever the hospital administrators want to throw at us?’

  More agreement.

  ‘Good,’ Alex said. ‘That’s decided. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go find my fellow and beat some sense into his stupid head.’

  He glanced Maggie’s way but she shrugged away the unasked question. She was too confused herself to be able to offer any advice whatsoever.

  ‘OK, let’s get out of this place. How about the Thai restaurant down the road? We can get that big table in the alcove and have some privacy to talk this through.’

  Maggie was surprised to hear Kurt organising things, but Rachel, Ned, Scott and the theatre and nursing staff present all seemed content to follow his lead.

  ‘I’ve work to finish here,’ Annie said, ‘but you lot go ahead.’

  ‘I’ll stay and help you,’ Maggie told her, knowing she couldn’t sit through a meal where Phil’s position was being discussed.

  ‘Do you know why he offered to resign?’ Annie asked, when the others had departed.

  ‘Because he’s Phil!’ Maggie said. ‘There’s a lot of old-fashioned gallantry, and “doing the right thing” in our Phil. He felt by sacrificing himself he’d save the unit.’

  She sighed.

  ‘He’s been upset about that baby since it happened. Upset about all the babies that die. Maybe he’s just had enough.’

  But she knew it wasn’t true. Losing a baby—a child—would only make Phil work harder to save the next one, make him learn more, try something different, test out the widest parameters—anything to save a child.

  To save having one more baby crying in his head…

  ‘He needs a break,’ Annie said. ‘Alex was saying as much the other day. Phil carried on when Alex was distracted by me being in hospital, then we had our honeymoon, but Phil hasn’t had a holiday in over a year. The work’s too emotionally fraught for them to just keep going.’