Dr Graham's Marriage

by Meredith Webber

  Alex pulled up alongside an ambulance.

  'Well, at least they're prepared for me,' Gabi told him, determined not to let the whimpering coward loose. Not yet, anyway.

  She climbed out of the car and, without waiting for Alex—any delay might weaken her resolve—marched over to where the group were now putting on harnesses. By concentrating on the people, and when necessary looking elsewhere on the far horizon, she could avoid thinking about the fact that twenty metres in front of her the ground dropped away into nothingness.

  'Dr Graham by two,' the man who was obviously the leader said, then he looked beyond her at Alex. 'Hey, man, you're back. I thought the department must be breeding Grahams when I saw two more names on my list. How was Scotland, and what are you doing here? Bigwigs like you don't usually do rescues.'

  Alex strode past Gabi and shook the man's hand.

  'I'm not a bigwig yet, Pete. I'm still in training and thought I'd better update my Superman skills in case they're ever needed.'

  He must have sensed Gabi trying to edge away from behind him, for he reached out, caught her arm and drew her gently forward.

  'This is Gabi. She's terrified of heights but for some reason has decided on a kill-or-cure approach to her fear. Treat her gently, will you?'

  Light blue eyes, the faded colour of the sky on a hot summer day, skimmed over Gabi, then a reassuring smile warmed the man's rugged face.

  'I'm Pete,' he said, holding out his hand. 'I guess we should let you go first so you don't have all the agony of waiting.'

  He kept the hand she'd offered him and led her forward, talking all the time about the harness and how it worked, and how, in a rescue, she wouldn't be abseiling but would be lowered, so perhaps for the first time she might like to try that experience.

  'We'll let you down slowly, so it's just like going down in a lift. All you have to do is try to land on your feet rather than in an inert heap on top of the imaginary patient.'

  'I should be able to manage that,' Gabi told him, though her teeth were practically chattering with fear and her knees were showing an alarming tendency to wobble. She just hoped he couldn't hear the voice that was yelling, No, no, no! in her head.

  Pete talked all the time as she buckled on her harness, as he led her to a section of the cliff where an overhang made the lowering process much easier, and as another member of the rescue squad abseiled down before her.

  'He'll be waiting at the bottom for you,' Pete told Gabi, attaching a rope to her harness. 'Now, do you want to look down to see where you're going, or just do it?'

  Gabi looked frantically around, searching for Alex, for anyone or anything familiar, but she couldn't see him among the crowd laughing and joking as they buckled on their harnesses and tested the ropes on which they'd swing over the cliff. Not that he'd have been much help, she told herself.

  'What's best?' she asked Pete, when the decision proved too much for her.

  'I think it's best to look, so you know where you're going, but if it's going to freak you out so much you're a blubbering mass of jelly then don't look.'

  Not wanting to be seen as a blubbering mass of jelly, she opted not to look, simply obeying instructions and moving towards the edge of the cliff, listening all the time to Pete's instructions while reciting over and over to herself, I can do this, I can do this.

  And she did, sitting first on the edge of the overhang— looking out, not down—then turning and lowering herself until she felt the harness take her weight.

  'On the chopper, once you're confident the harness is always there and always able to take your weight, you'll sit and go out forwards,' Pete explained, 'but here you'll feel better if you can see the cliff in front of you.'

  Did she feel better, she wondered, as the cliff face slid past her eyes? And better than what? Bloody terrified?

  But she wasn't panicking, and that was good, and she'd resisted the temptation to look down, which was even better, as looking down would have undoubtedly brought a hysterical reaction not good when dangling on a rope.

  'Got you,' a voice said, and strong hands grasped her waist and guided her feet to solid ground. The voice had sounded so like Alex's she looked not down but around, to see who had caught her.

  'How did you get here? It wasn't you who abseiled down,' she said, when his grinning face confirmed her suspicions.

  The grin grew even broader.

  'It was, you know. I even said I'd see you at the bottom, but you were so scared witless I doubt you'd have noticed a meteorite landing next to you or heard a brass band playing.'

  'I didn't—I wasn't—I...' Triumph at her achievement was vying with the disturbing elements of being held by Alex, so the things she wanted to say died en route. Marshalling all her brain power, she tried again.

  'Shouldn't I be getting out of this gear?'

  Alex's hand caught hers as she tried to unclip the rope.

  'Not yet. You've got to go back up.'

  'I've got to go back up?' she quavered.

  'How else are you going to get back to the top?'

  Gabi looked around and realised, for the first time, just how narrow a ledge her landing place was. Alex was standing between her and the edge, so she hadn't considered there might not be solid ground beyond him. Panic seized her by the throat and her body grew rigid with fear.

  'Don't let it get to you now,' he said, once more following her thoughts. 'You're hooked up and I'm hooked up, and as soon as I give a couple of tugs on your rope Pete will have you lifted back to the top in no time.'

  Gabi was just assimilating this information—with only a modicum of the panic lessening—and reminding herself it was what she was determined to do, when Alex added, 'And then you can abseil down the other side. Listen to the rest of them yahooing. It's great fun!'

  The 'fun' suggestion was so stupid she didn't dignify it with an answer, though she did raise her eyebrow. The rest of what Alex had said sounded vaguely familiar—no doubt because Pete had said the same to her earlier. So, to prove she wasn't scared quite as witless as Alex presumed, she gave the necessary tugs on her rope and allowed herself to be lifted back to the top of the cliff.

  It was the beginning of countless ascents and descents, all small triumphs in their own way, but by early afternoon, though the butterflies had been banished—or were at least under control—Gabi's legs were so tired she knew she'd be foolish to keep going.

  'I love crew who know when to stop,' Pete said, when she explained she'd had enough, 'because I don't want dead heroes on my missions. But you'll be back tomorrow?'

  Gabi assured him she'd be there. Tomorrow, as well as doing more abseiling and lowering practice, they'd be looking at the equipment the helicopters carried, and learning to put together the lightweight backboards and braces and how to strap them on to accident victims while teetering on cliff edges or dangling in space.

  'You realise you'd rarely be called upon to go over the edge of cliffs?' Alex said as he drove them back down the mountain.

  Gabi nodded. Unless a patient was so severely injured he needed stabilising before being moved, the regular rescue team would bring him either up to the helicopter, if it was a chopper rescue, or to more secure ground in a cliff rescue, where the medical personnel would then take over.

  She stretched her calves and rolled her shoulders, thinking of the bliss of a warm bath, too tired to feel any triumph about conquering the baby cliffs she'd swung out over today. Although it had been a triumph, particularly at the end when she'd been able to look down to where she was going without total pandemonium breaking out in her stomach.

  'Why are you doing it?'

  Alex's question brought her out of her self-congratulatory mood.

  'It was time,' she said flatly, remembering some of the silly reasons—flying to Europe to see Alex; she must have been off her head—she'd given herself when she'd written it on the list.

  He gave her a look that suggested he didn't believe her, but said nothing, so she let the silence
settle around them and looked out at the passing scenery, so different now the light was fading, casting the world in softer, more mellow colours.

  She must have slept again—was it an escape mechanism—because the next thing she knew they were in the basement of the apartment block and Alex had switched off the engine.

  The car, small at the best of times, seemed to shrink around them so the air was charged with both their life forces competing for the space.

  'You must know all the stuff Pete does tomorrow,' Gabi said, as the strange vibes made her skin fidget.

  'I won't be going. I've missed seeing Mum today, and by the time I've showered and grabbed a bite to eat it will be too late for visiting hours, so I'll spend more time with her tomorrow.'

  Gabi knew she should feel relief, which some parts of her undoubtedly did, but she also felt a twinge of disappointment and, given her current situation, even small twinges of disappointment, connected to Alex, were not good. Best she get out of the car.

  'You'd better give me my keys,' she said, as he automatically slipped them into his pocket on their way to the lift.

  He passed them over as the lift doors opened, and she felt his fingers brush against hers, igniting the electricity that still sparked between them.

  She clenched the keys so tightly the sharp edges dug into her palm, but that pain was better than giving in to electricity—sparky or otherwise.

  Once safe inside Alana's flat she reviewed her options. Option, really. There was only one, and that was to avoid Alex at all times, at all costs. The phone rang as she was telling the revolting bird about it to reinforce her decision, and when Alex's voice asked if she'd like to have dinner with him, she panicked and said, 'No, I'm sorry. I'm going out.'

  She hung up before he could lecture her on the need to get a good night's sleep and phoned Kirsten, who'd already invited her to a party at a friend's place. Now she'd have to go, so her response to Alex wouldn't be a lie.

  *

  The throaty roar of an engine brought Alex out of a deep sleep. It took him a few minutes to work out where he was and get the present sorted from the dream. Then, wanting a glass of water before he went back to sleep, he got up and walked through to the living room on his way to the kitchen. Curiosity took him across to the sliding glass doors, where he peered out over the balcony to see if he could work out what had woken him.

  The little sports car he'd seen outside the hospital was parked opposite the entrance to the units. Empty.

  Had its arrival woken him, or had it been parked there for some time? He turned away to get the glass of water.

  It's none of your business what Gabi does, or with whom, he reminded himself, but anger knotted his intestines and soured the water he was drinking. It drove him to the phone but, though he lifted the receiver, sanity returned before he had time to dial Alana's number and he sank back onto the bed and tried to work out where and how things had gone so wrong between himself and the woman he still loved.

  Not that thinking about it helped. And talking about it to his mother next morning failed to throw any light on the subject. Though she did say one thing that he carried home with him, mulling over it as he shopped then carted the groceries back to the flat.

  'If you want her, woo her.' Simple enough words, but they'd stuck in his head. His mother's contention was he'd done it once, so surely he could do it again. Pretend Gabi was someone new he'd just met and go from there.

  By the time he'd put away the groceries and, feeling extremely virtuous, vacuumed and tidied the flat, he'd decided it was the way to go. He'd start tonight. In fact, he could go down and tape a note on Alana's door, asking Gabi to phone him when she got in. Then he'd suggest dinner.

  She'd said no to dinner last night!

  'That's because she had a date with Josh.'

  Saying the words aloud added more force to them, and reinforced his doubts about the wooing-and-winning strategy.

  Flowers. He'd often bought her flowers when they'd been courting. Perhaps if he taped the note and a flower on her door. Where would he get a flower?

  He peered out the window and saw the sports car back, right in front of the entrance. The man part of Alex wondered how the devil Josh always got a parking spot right in front of the building, while the would-be lover felt fury build.

  He would not give in.

  He'd forget the flower and go down right now. She must be home if Josh was here.

  Rather than wait for the lift he took the stairs, erupting out of the fire door on two and charging towards Alana's flat. A relatively polite ring of the bell brought no response, and as his over-active imagination supplied him with any number of unwanted scenarios being played out behind the door, he stuck his finger on the bell and kept it there.

  'I think she's just gone out again,' a quiet voice said, and he spun around to see the door to the second flat open, and a woman with pale green eyes and a cloud of black hair peering anxiously out at him.

  And frowning.

  'I know you, don't I?' she said, and Alex, thinking back, remembered the woman moving into the flat opposite Alana's not long before he'd left.

  'I'm Alex Graham,' he said, removing his finger from the bell and crossing to offer his hand.

  Her slim fingers were cool and he felt that coolness calming him. He peered behind her, trying to remember what he knew of her—whether she was married, had children, kept pets as Alana did—but his mind was blank.

  'Daisy Rutherford,' she said. 'We did meet, not long before you went to Scotland. Would you like to come in? Do you want to wait for Gabi? I'm sure, after the big day she's had, she won't be long.'

  Alex found himself ushered into the flat, even accepting a beer when it was offered. The frustration he'd been feeling—after all, how else should a man feel when he'd taken the big decision to woo and win back his wife then found she wasn't there to be wooed or won—slowly drained away as Daisy's quiet voice asked him about Scotland and the year he'd spent there.

  He remembered she was a psychologist who worked— where? Not at the hospital. Somewhere strange.

  But, wherever she worked, she was undoubtedly good for he was feeling far more relaxed.

  Though a spike of resentment remained lodged within him and in the end he had to stand up and oh-so-casually wander across to her glass doors, which overlooked the street in front. The sports car was gone, confirming his suspicions, and suddenly even Daisy's gentle conversation wasn't enough to calm him.

  He finished his beer, thanked her for her kindness, then left, taking the stairs back to the fourth floor two at a time— the spike driving him on. He cooked himself a steak and slapped it between two slices of bread. Bachelor dinner! Then watched television until he fell asleep in front of it, waking at two with a stiff neck and what felt like a dislocated hip.

  But that didn't stop him rising early, dressing with more than his usual attention to work clothes, then hanging around in the foyer of the building, trying to look as if he wasn't waiting for someone.

  'Gabi's gone,' Kirsten informed him, tripping out of the lift with a warm smile on her face and a cloud of perfume enveloping her slim form. 'Do you like this?'

  She moved closer.

  'It's a new perfume I'm trying. I've always gone for flower scents before, but I was reading in yesterday's paper that men are usually more attracted to spice and musk in a woman's perfume. I knew Alana used that kind of thing, so I went down earlier to borrow some and caught Gabi as she was leaving.'

  Kirsten had taken his arm and was guiding him out of the building as if they walked arm in arm to work every day. But she did it so naturally, and her manner was so unaffected, he could understand why she and Gabi had become friends.

  'Well?' she demanded.

  He turned towards her, not understanding, and she sighed.

  'I might just as well be invisible as far as you're concerned, mightn't I? I was asking about perfume. You're a man, you see, and it's like flowers having nectar to attract bees—wome
n wear perfume to attract men. But if it's not the right kind, I won't buy it.'

  Alex sniffed the air. Actually, he'd been breathing in the perfume since she'd exited the lift so his nose had got used to it. But now he concentrated, and pronounced it very nice.

  'You'd probably say that about it if I was wearing vanilla, or gin, or something else out of the kitchen.'

  'Definitely the gin,' he told her. 'Or sesame oil—that's got a great smell.'

  'On a woman?' Kirsten's screech was so disbelieving he laughed and she looked at him, then said, 'Yes, I can see why Gabi fell for you.'

  He wanted to press for more information—like how she knew how Gabi had felt and if she was privy to Gabi's feelings now—but they were at the hospital, and other workers were greeting both of them.

  'Have a good day,' Kirsten said, when they parted in the lobby outside A and E. Then she waved her wrist in front of his nose. 'And think about the perfume. I'd like something more than that very weak "nice" you offered earlier. Actually, I could do a test on you—try out a few to see if the article was right. Will you be home tonight? Or any night this week? I could offer you dinner.'

  She was so pleasant he couldn't say no, or tell her he intended using whatever wiles he had at his disposal to tempt Gabi out to dinner tonight, and if that worked every night for a week—or two—or maybe a year. He made an indeterminate kind of noise and walked on into the department. Not seeing Gabi anywhere, he approached Roz Cooper at the desk.

  'Is Gabi around?' he asked, and she, too, looked around.

  'She was here a minute ago. We were watching you sniff Kirsten's wrist, and she was saying she thought only dogs sought out partners on the basis of their olfactory sense.'

  'Ouch!' Alex said, while a sinking feeling in his stomach suggested that wooing and winning his wife might not be as easy as his mother had made it sound.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gabi focussed on her patient, an elderly woman, Mrs Elsie Armstrong, sent to the hospital by her GP when a regular blood test had showed an alarming decrease in her haemoglobin count. As a consequence of this, the woman was breathing heavily as her body battled to get enough oxygen to her brain.