by Sarah Morgan
Georgie nibbled at her bottom lip in agitation. ‘I wish I’d never mentioned it now,’ she said. ‘It’s probably just one of those out-of-the-blue accidents that no one has any control over.’
‘Doesn’t hurt to check these things out,’ Belinda reassured her. ‘Have you met the husband?’
‘Not officially but I’ve seen him by his wife’s bed in ICU when I’ve been passing through,’ Georgie answered. ‘My boss told me he’s a very devoted husband and very upset about his wife’s serious condition.’
Belinda gave another cynical twist to her mouth. ‘It might be an idea to look at his wife’s life insurance policy. It’s amazing how devoted husbands can be when several thousand dollars are going to fall into their laps on the death of their partners.’
‘You’re not going to do that, are you?’ Georgie asked with a worried look.
‘I’ll be very discreet,’ Belinda said. ‘What’s the wife’s condition? Is she likely to recover fully?’
‘Her head injury was pretty severe,’ Georgie said. ‘It’s likely if she does wake up from the coma she’s in, there will be some sort of permanent brain damage.’
Belinda grimaced. ‘Sad all round, isn’t it? I had a mate in Special Operations who fell from a building on a stake-out. He’s not the same person—he doesn’t even know who his wife and kids are now. He sits in a wheelchair in a care facility, staring into space.’ She blew out a world-weary sigh and added, ‘It totally sucks, what life dishes up sometimes.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Georgie said with another little frown. ‘Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, pursuing a career in neurosurgery. There aren’t always happy endings. Maybe I should have been a dermatologist after all.’
‘And stare at ghastly pimples and weeping eczema all day? No way,’ Belinda said with a grin. ‘Get on with you, Georgie. Neurosurgery is in your blood. You’ll be fine once you get over this rough patch. Don’t worry about Mr Tander’s threats. We’ll sort it out our end and see if we come up with anything. But my bet is he’s just upset about his role in injuring his wife and is looking for a scapegoat. I’ve seen it so many times. He probably blames himself for not checking his wife was wearing her seat belt. The guilt he would be feeling would be overwhelming. He’ll let it go as soon as he comes to terms with how things are.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ Georgie said. ‘I would hate anything else to go wrong in my life. I’m starting to think someone’s put a curse on me or something.’
‘You don’t believe in curses, do you?’
‘No, of course not, but ever since I started at Sydney Met my life has spun out of control.’
Belinda winked at her as she hitched her gym bag back on her shoulder. ‘That wouldn’t have anything to do with that seriously gorgeous boss of yours, would it?’
Georgie tried to roll her eyes but she could see Belinda wasn’t buying it. ‘He’s gorgeous but still getting over a bad break-up,’ she said. ‘The very last thing I need is another man in my life who isn’t over his last love. I hate playing second fiddle. It’s so ego-crushing to realise you’re not the one he really wants.’
‘Has he made a move on you?’
Georgie could feel her colour rising. ‘Sort of …’
Belinda’s brows lifted expressively. ‘Gosh, he’s quick off the mark, isn’t he? You’ve only been working there—what is it?—five days?’
‘Don’t remind me,’ Georgie groaned. ‘I have the rest of the year to get through and I’m in over my head as it is.’
Belinda gave her a probing look. ‘You mean you’re a little bit attracted to him?’
‘I’m a big bit attracted to him,’ Georgie confessed. ‘He’s the sort of guy who says “Love you” to his mum, and he adores his kid sister and he wants nothing more than to settle down and have a brood of kids. How rare is that these days?’
‘Uh-oh,’ Belinda said, her expression turning serious. ‘He sounds like the dream guy. If I were you I’d be going for it, boss or no boss.’
Georgie whooshed out a sigh. ‘I’m going to do an hour on the cross-trainer to stop myself from thinking about him.’
‘I hate to remind you, honey, but there’s a twenty-minute time limit on the cross-trainers at this time of the evening,’ Belinda said.
‘Then I’ll have to jump machines until he’s exercised out of my brain,’ Georgie said.
‘Don’t you mean exorcised?’ Belinda asked with a twinkling smile.
Georgie rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t you start,’ she said, and, pushing open the door, headed into the change rooms.
‘Can you see her yet?’ Hannah asked Ben as she peered up and down Market Street. ‘What does she look like?’
Ben scanned the bustling January sales crowd for a sun-kissed brown head but so far he couldn’t see any sign of her. ‘She’s about this tall,’ he said, holding his hand against his pectoral muscles, ‘and she’s got blonde highlights in her brown hair. I’m not sure but I think they’re natural.’
Hannah looked up at him impishly. ‘And what colour eyes does she have?’
He gave her a frown. ‘What’s with all these questions? She’s just my registrar, nothing else.’
‘I hope they’re not ice-blue, like you know who’s were,’ she said with a cheeky grin.
Ben shifted his eyes to search the crowd again. ‘No, they’re not,’ he said somewhat absently as he saw a slim figure weaving her way through the crowd on the George and Market Street intersection, the brilliant white slash of her apologetic smile as she bumped into someone seeming to light up the entire street. ‘They’re the colour of caramel … or toffee … a soft brown.’
‘Uh-oh,’ Hannah said, as she saw who her brother was zeroing in on.
Ben opened his mouth to say something in return but closed it as soon as a flowery perfume invaded his nostrils.
‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ Georgie rushed up to them, her unfettered hair blowing across her face in the hot breeze.
‘Not another accident, Dr Willoughby?’ Ben asked with an inscrutable look.
‘No,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. She turned to the petite dark-haired figure beside Ben and put out her hand. ‘Hi, you must be Hannah. I’m Georgie.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Georgie,’ Hannah said with a friendly smile. ‘Ben’s told me all about you.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Georgie said, flicking him a quick reproving glance. ‘I hope you won’t hold it against me.’
Hannah’s eyes were dancing as she looked between her brother and his new registrar. ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘Anyway, you’re a whole lot nicer than his last girlfriend. She was—’
‘Hannah!’ Ben warned.
Hannah gave him a guileless look. ‘What?’
‘Georgie doesn’t want to hear about my private life,’ he said. ‘Besides, I need a caffeine hit. I hardly slept last night.’
‘Were you called in?’ Georgie asked as she walked alongside him with his sister on the other.
‘Er … no,’ he said. ‘Hannah was snoring.’
Hannah swung around in mock affront and jabbed him playfully in the chest. ‘I was not! You were the one keeping me awake.’
‘Don’t tell me you snore, Mr Blackwood?’ Georgie said with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
He gave her a glowering look from beneath his dark brows. ‘I haven’t had any complaints in the past,’ he said.
‘He talks in his sleep,’ Hannah piped up authoritatively. ‘He’s done it since he was a little kid. Mum told me.’
‘Shut up or I won’t buy you those outrageously expensive running shoes you wanted,’ he said with a laugh, feigning outrage. ‘I’ll make you go home and do your homework instead.’
Hannah leaned around the front of her brother to speak to Georgie. ‘He doesn’t mean it,’ she said. ‘He’s always teasing me.’
Georgie couldn’t help smiling at the playful interchange between older brother and much younger sister. She could see the de
ep affection they had for each other, the banter and mock glares not able to hide the rock-solid relationship they shared.
Hannah now had her arm tucked through his and was beaming up at him adoringly. His dark blue eyes were soft and a half-smile was playing at the edges of his mouth as he looked down at her.
Georgie felt her stomach tilt sideways at the thought of having him look at her with such love shining in his eyes. He was certainly attracted to her if that kiss was anything to go on but, then, it had obviously been a while since he’d played the field so perhaps she was a convenient diversion. Maybe even the fact that she’d said she was in a no-dating phase had made her all the more alluring to him: a case of wanting what he couldn’t have. She even wondered if that was why she couldn’t stop thinking about him—because he was technically off limits.
‘Is here OK?’ Ben asked.
‘Sorry?’ Georgie blinked up at him vacantly. ‘What did you say?’
His gaze dipped to her mouth, watching as her tongue flicked over the soft shiny lips, removing a fine trace of lip-gloss. He felt the sudden hard kick of desire deep and low in his belly again and wondered if he had been in his right mind to accept her offer of accompanying him and his sister. How on earth was he going to keep his hands off her? She was temptation from the top of her silky hair to her fuchsia-pink painted toenails peeking out from the high-heeled sandals she was wearing with her sexily tight jeans. Her close-fitting pink top had a scooped neckline which showed a hint of her luscious cleavage, and there was a red cherry emblem just above her right breast, which kept drawing his gaze like a powerful magnet.
Hannah gave him a nudge with her elbow. ‘What is it with you guys?’ she asked.
‘What?’ Ben and Georgie said in unison.
Hannah put her hands on her hips in schoolmistress fashion. ‘Now, sit down, both of you, and behave yourselves,’ she said. ‘We’re here to have a coffee and there’s to be no playing legs and toes under the table either.’
‘Surely you don’t think—’ Georgie began hastily, but she was cut off by Ben’s deep voice coming over the top of her lighter one.
‘Cool it, Hannah. You’re embarrassing Georgie. She’s not interested in me any more than I am her. Besides, she’s having a bet with a friend that could lose her a thousand bucks if she goes on a date with a man before Easter,’ he said. ‘Think of how many pairs of shoes you could buy with a thousand big ones.’
‘Not all that many,’ his sister put in with a little mock pout. Georgie stared at the beverage menu, hoping her colour wasn’t as high as it was feeling from the inside.
Thankfully the waiter approached and took their orders for coffee. She couldn’t help noticing how protective Ben was of his sister when the young male waiter gave Hannah a second look of male appraisal. Ben shuffled his chair a little closer and draped an arm over the back of his sister’s chair.
‘Don’t even think about it, kiddo,’ he said when the waiter had moved on. ‘You’re practically still jailbait and he’s not tall enough for you anyway.’
Hannah gave him a little shove. ‘That’s a horrible thing to say. He can’t help it if he’s not very tall. Besides, he looks like a film star.’
He grinned at her and ruffled her hair. ‘Hollywood stars are OK but you’re too young.’
She screwed up her face at him before turning to Georgie. ‘Do you have an annoying big brother who screens all your potential boyfriends for you?’ she asked.
Georgie smiled. ‘No, I don’t, but I’m thinking I might have missed out on something pretty special.’
‘You haven’t,’ Hannah said, but her smile belied her tone. She leaned forward with her chin propped by her hands and asked, ‘So what is it you look for in a boyfriend?’
Georgie blinked once or twice. ‘Um …’
‘Hannah, please,’ Ben said, rolling his eyes.
She slapped him on the arm and, turning back, tilted her head and fixed her expectant gaze on Georgie. ‘You were saying?’
Georgie suppressed a giggle at the look on Ben’s face. ‘Um … let me see now …’ She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger in an idle manner. ‘A sense of humour is very important,’ she said. ‘And I hate to sound prejudiced against short men, but I like a man I can look up to, not just in height but in intellect as well.’
‘So far so good,’ Hannah said with a cheeky smile in her brother’s direction.
‘And …’ Georgie tapped her lips with the tip of her index finger for a moment. ‘I like a man who’s not afraid of being in the wrong occasionally.’ ‘Uh-oh,’ Hannah said.
Ben swung his gaze his sister’s way and frowned. ‘Uh-oh? What do you mean, “Uh oh”?’
She gave him a surely-you-know-what-I’m-talking-about look. ‘Come on, Ben,’ she said. ‘You hate apologising. It’s your one bad point. You’re too proud to admit when you’ve made a mistake.’
‘That’s complete and utter rubbish.’
‘What about Leila, huh?’ she said with a pointed look. ‘You knew she was all wrong for you the moment you got involved with her, but you wouldn’t admit it. Mum and I told you it was going to end in tears, and it did.’
‘Yeah, well, not with mine, it didn’t,’ he growled.
Hannah exchanged looks with Georgie. ‘He’s lying,’ she said. ‘He was depressed for months. We were so worried about him we—’
‘That’s it,’ Ben said, getting to his feet. ‘I’m not going to sit here listening to you rabbit on about me as if I’m some sort of broken-hearted loser who doesn’t know how to pull a decent date. For God’s sake, Hannah, no wonder Mum was worried about you being let loose in the city. You’re out of control.’
Hannah pouted at him. ‘It’s true, Ben,’ she said. ‘You’ve been moping about for months. It’s time to put it behind you.’
An incoming call on Ben’s phone caused a momentary diversion. He strode out of the hearing of the other café patrons and Georgie watched him frown and speak in turn. He came back to the table but didn’t sit down. ‘I’m sorry but I have to leave you to it for a while,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a private patient who needs an urgent consultation.’
He turned to Georgie and asked, ‘Would you mind hanging around with my sister for an hour or so? I’ll call you when I’m finished.’
Georgie gave him a wide smile. ‘I can think of nothing better.’
Ben clipped his phone back on his belt and strode away. I just knew she was going to say that, he thought as he headed to where his car was parked.
CHAPTER TWELVE
BEN had seen Emma Stanley’s MRI scans two weeks ago but there had been considerable change in her condition since then. The young sixteen-year-old track and field star had a tumour on her lumbar spine, which thankfully was benign, but that didn’t mean she was out of the woods by any means. The tumour was pressing against the cauda equina, causing numbness in her buttocks and weakness in her legs.
Surgery was the only option but there were huge risks involved, especially as imaging had shown the tumour was extensive and its removal had the potential to cause damage to multiple nerve roots. She had fallen several times over the last few days and her parents had panicked and contacted him directly rather than wait until Monday to see him in his public clinic, as he had advised them to do.
Ben sat Emma and her parents down in his office. Taking his own chair, he began to run through the risks. ‘I know we’ve talked through all this before but as Emma’s symptoms have worsened it won’t hurt to go over them again,’ he said. ‘The tumour is growing rapidly—far more rapidly than I expected. So it’s important we get in there and remove it to minimise the risk of permanent damage to the spinal nerves.’
Glenda and James Stanley each gripped one of their wide-eyed daughter’s hands. ‘We understand, Mr Blackwood,’ the father said. ‘We just want her to get well and be able to run again.’
Here comes the difficult part, Ben thought as he mentally prepared himself. ‘Surgery of any sort has risks,’
he began, ‘even routine operations. We have to go into surgery understanding what these are.’
‘We don’t want to frighten Emma, Mr Blackwood. Is it absolutely necessary to go through these in front of her now?’ Emma’s father spoke with emotion.
‘It’s hard, I know,’ Ben said, before shifting to speak primarily to Emma. ‘Emma, you have to have a basic understanding of the potential problems we face, and you have to ask me any questions about specific concerns you as an individual might have, things that might not be such a concern to, say, non-sportspeople.’
‘I understand, Mr Blackwood, and I want to know everything,’ the young girl insisted. ‘It’s all right, Dad, Mum,’ she addressed her parents. ‘I need to know what’s ahead of me.’
‘So, the risks …’ Ben began once the parents had both nodded their agreement. ‘We divide them into two groups. First are risks that could occur with any operation—such as infection, bleeding, clots in the legs. For someone of your age and fitness, Emma, these risks are going to be very small.’
‘That’s good, Mr Blackwood,’ Emma said. ‘See, Mum? He said the risks are small.’ She turned back to Ben. ‘So I should be OK, right?’
‘We all hope so, Emma. But there’s a second category of risks—risks specific to a particular operation. This is where I really want everyone to understand what the possibilities are here,’ Ben explained. ‘Emma, your tumour is fairly big, and many of the spinal nerves coming off the last few centimetres of the spinal cord look as though they are trapped in the tumour. In order to get rid of every bit of the tumour so it won’t come back, I am going to have to peel each nerve root off the tumour. It is possible that some of the nerve roots might be damaged, possibly permanently.’
‘What would that mean, Mr Blackwood?’ Emma asked, with a worried glance at her parents.
‘It would depend which nerve root was damaged,’ Ben said. ‘The least might be a patch of numbness or weakness. The worst could be those, plus loss of control of bowels and bladder.’
