‘I’m telling you what happened,’ Rory corrected. ‘I dropped the girls at Amber’s house and, no, I didn’t get asked in for as much as a coffee.’
‘Oh, my goodness.’Ally blinked.
‘Tell me something, Ally,’ Rory said picking up the forgotten dinner plates and heading over to the sink as Ally sat and digested the rather interesting news. ‘How many girlfriends do you think I’ve had?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Well, your recollection of my wild youth seems a lot more colourful than mine.’
‘Oh, come on, Rory, you can’t kid me.’ Ally let out a rather undignified snort. ‘I shared a house with you!’
‘For how long?’ Rory asked.
‘Three years.’
‘Three years.’ Rory nodded, scraping all the leftovers onto one plate. As he went to throw it into the bin, just as Ally opened her mouth to halt him, Rory remembered of his own accord, calling Sheba over and loading her bowl with the remains of dinner. As the old dog limped over, her tail wagging, Ally watched, touched that he’d thought to spoil her. ‘And in those three years how many women did I date?’ He didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he answered his own question. ‘Two.’
‘Two!’ Ally let out another undignified snort, followed by an incredulous laugh, but Rory’s back was to her now, blasting on the taps and filling the sink before continuing.
‘Maria, gorgeous as she was, came with two impossible parents who considered three months of dating quite long enough and demanded that I do the honorable thing by their daughter.’
‘She adored you,’ Ally reminded him. ‘She was devastated when you broke it off.’
‘So was I.’ Rory shrugged, washing the dishes as he chatted. ‘But I was twenty-four, for heaven’s sake. I had no intention of settling down and I certainly wasn’t ready to make bambinos, which was what her parents wanted!’
‘What about Gloria?’ Ally prompted. ‘You were together for two years. Why did you break it off with her?
‘I liked someone else,’ Rory replied, with an honesty Ally couldn’t really argue with. ‘It didn’t seem fair to drag things on when I knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere.’ Throwing the teatowel on the surface, he joined her back at the kitchen table. ‘And that’s my checkered past. As good as it was, it wasn’t that good.’
‘What about that blonde woman I found in the kitchen one morning, buttering my crumpets and wearing your T-shirt?’ Ally said, bristling at the memory—they’d been her last two crumpets after all. ‘Mandy, that was her name.’
‘She’d just broken up with my mate, Paul, for crying out loud,’ Rory replied. ‘If you’d bothered to set your alarm that morning, you’d have found her asleep on the sofa ten minutes before. I’m not that low, Ally.’
‘Well what about…?’Ally’s voice trailed off, frowning at her own recollections. Surely there had been more. How many parties had they had? How many times had she found women in floods of tears in the kitchen, or locked in the loo having hysterics, or chain smoking on the patio, because Rory had turned them down?
Turned them down.
And Rory, it would seem, had somehow, despite the appalling odds, managed to swing the jury with his skilled delivery, beyond reasonable doubt starting to creep into Ally’s confused mind.
‘Two!’ Rory said again, just to ram home the fact. ‘I hate to shatter your illusions.’ Rory gave a low laugh. ‘Hate to shatter mine, actually. Look, Ally, there’s a lot of gossip that flies around, a lot of innuendo, you know that as much as I do. Most of the time I just laugh it off. If that’s what people want to think of me then let them—they don’t know me after all. But you do,’ Rory added, and Ally could have sworn she heard a tiny hurt note in his voice. ‘Surely you know I’m not like that? That I’m not into that type of thing?’
‘What type of thing?’ Ally asked, wondering if he’d have the gall to actually say it. The mist cleared from her mind. She absolutely refused to be drawn in, angry with herself that for a second there she’d almost believed him, that Rory had almost had her convinced.
‘One-night stands.’ Rory’s eyes held hers. Unlike Ally, he didn’t appear remotely embarrassed by the conversation.
‘You’ve got a nerve Rory…’ She wasn’t even angry, just tired of his games, tired of the roller-coaster ride of emotion Rory constantly took her on. All she knew was that she wanted to get off, had had enough of Rory Donovan and his mind games for one day. Shaking her head, Ally stood up. ‘Thank you for dinner, Rory. I’ll let Sheba out for a couple of minutes then I’m going to bed. Remember to set your alarm in the morning. I’m on a late shift so I doubt I’ll be up.’
‘Don’t worry.’ Rory yawned. ‘I’ll be up this time.’
Even though she was still annoyed with him, Ally felt a proper apology for her earlier thoughtless words was still in order. ‘I am sorry for what I said earlier, about not being your mother—it was beyond thoughtless.’
‘Ally, it was a totally normally thing to say—you’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last.’
‘Perhaps,’ Ally sighed. ‘But given that I know…’
‘Forget it.’ Rory smiled. ‘And don’t worry about Sheba. I’ll see to her—I might even take her for a stroll on the beach.’
‘She can’t walk far.’
‘A stroll,’ Rory said, ‘not a power walk.’
‘She’d like that.’Ally gave a pale smile. ’Night, then.’
‘’Night, Ally.’
Padding down the hallway, she ached for the safety of her room, ached to throw herself onto the bed and let out the breath that was bursting in her lungs. Her emotions were swinging like a pendulum. The fact he was here, back in the house they had shared, chatting and joking with her, it was almost as if the years he had been gone had melted away somehow. And yet she was furious, too—furious that he could just look her in the eye and lie, deny the absolute truth. They’d even discussed it that morning, for goodness’ sake, but as she walked away he called her.
‘That one doesn’t count!’ Rory said, clearly reading her mind, but Ally didn’t turn around, just stood still in the darkened hallway with her back to him, tears stinging her eyes because it had counted, had counted so much more than he would ever know.
‘I guess not,’ Ally managed, heading again for her door, turning the handle as Rory continued.
‘That night doesn’t count as a one-night stand, Ally…because it meant something…’
CHAPTER FOUR
IT WAS a relief to hear the door slam in the morning, to no longer have to lie in silence. Acutely aware of Rory in the next room, Ally had woken up at the first beep of his mobile alarm, had lain gritting her teeth as over and over Rory had hit the snooze button, before he’d finally dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.
And noise shouldn’t worry her. After all she had shared her house with more people than she could instantly recall, but no matter how she tried it was hard to relegate Rory to housemate status. Smiling into the darkness, she’d listened as he’d attempted quiet, listened as he’d spoken in low, gentle tones to Sheba then ruined it by stubbing his toe in the darkness and bouncing off the walls. She’d listened as he’d boiled the kettle and snap, crackled and popped his way through breakfast. And even if it was the same, it was different—his pager bleeping as the sun rose, the sound of his low voice as he gave his orders into the phone.
Snapping on Sheba’s lead, Ally led her very reluctant dog along the beach path.
‘Come on, Sheba,’Ally urged, trying to muster some enthusiasm. ‘You love a paddle.’
Just not today.
Sitting down on the sandy shore, Ally watched as an exhausted Sheba attempted a lethargic sniff at the water’s edge.
Ally loved this time of the morning—too late for serious joggers and dog walkers and way too early for sunbathers and mothers with toddlers. Just an elderly couple walking arm in arm, picking up shells and stabbing a stick at the odd washed-up jellyfish, a couple of
surfers heading for home. But apart from that, it was empty.
This time last year, Sheba would have loved it. OK, Ally admitted. The dog wouldn’t have been riding the waves but she’d have been splashing her tired old body in the salty water and proudly dragging back a piece of driftwood for Ally to inspect. Now she could barely make it to the beach. Sometimes Ally was sure she merely attempted a frolic to appease her, but this morning she didn’t even try that, just sniffed at the water then waddled back to her Ally, resting her old grey head in Ally’s lap, thumping her tail silently on the sand as Ally idly stroked her head, listening intently as her mistress laid the blame squarely at Rory’s feet.
‘Did he keep you out too long last night, Sheba?’ Ally stared down at her loyal friend. ‘Believe me, I know all about it!
‘Well, don’t worry, he’s not going to be staying with us for very much longer…’Ally’s voice trailed off. She stared out at the glittering water, taking nourishment from the view that always calmed her, and she needed calming. Her stomach had been curled into a ball of tension since Rory had reappeared, her mind reeling from the impact of seeing him again, from the jumble of conflicting emotions he so easily evoked. God, why wasn’t this sorted? Ally begged herself. Why three years later was she sitting on the beach with Sheba at her side, pondering the conundrum that was Rory Donovan? Why had he had to come back now? Why couldn’t he have come back and found her totally anaesthetised to his charm, her diary bulging with engagements?
A tiny whimper from Sheba reminded Ally that she wasn’t an entirely hopeless case. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Sheba was on her last legs, she wouldn’t have even been home when Rory had called. The reason she wasn’t sunning herself on the beach in Queensland with her friends Becky and Donna this week was because there was no way she could have put Sheba in a kennel. Even though her mum had offered to come in and feed her, Ally knew that Sheba would have spent the entire fortnight fretting.
‘Come on, Sheba.’ Standing up, Ally waited for Sheba to join her, watching as she heaved her body up then with a shudder lay back down. ‘Sheba, please.’ Sinking to her knees, Ally tried to cajole Sheba into standing. ‘Come on, honey, you can’t lie here all day. It’s just a few steps back to the house. Come on, Sheba.’
As she stood so too did Sheba, panting as she walked back to the house. Once inside Ally poured her some cool water but she was too tired even for that. Stretched out on the wooden floorboards, Sheba’s chest rose and fell rapidly and no matter how hard over the past few weeks Ally had tried not to think about it, she knew now that she had to. She knew that Sheba had been for her very last walk, that she was too old, too tired and in too much pain even to walk the few steps down to the beach now.
But she was eating, Ally thought hopefully. Only last night she’d gobbled up the remains of dinner, and Rory had taken her for a walk last night. It wasn’t any wonder she was worn out today. Pouring a glass of water for herself, Ally drank it with a trembling hand, a touch more reassured, especially as Sheba’s breathing started to slow down to a more regular rate. But as she headed off to the laundry, as much as she tried to ignore it, her eyes seemed to be drawn to the vet’s business card stuck on her fridge. She wondered how she could ever bear to use it, but knew in her heart of hearts that Sheba couldn’t go on like this for much longer.
‘What are you doing in here?’ Rory frowned, peering into the storeroom where Ally was hiding halfway up a ladder and dusting off shelves. Rostered on for the ward that afternoon, Ally had been hoping for a busy shift to take her mind off things, but the one time she needed action the place was quiet. There were no new admissions expected from the delivery suite, no women in early labour to be monitored and all babies were out of the nursery and being proudly shown off to visitors. Most of the staff were making the most of the rare quiet time and sitting around the nurses’ station gossiping, Rory included. But Ally hadn’t been remotely in the mood for light-hearted chatter and had taken herself of to the massive storeroom to tackle a job she had been putting off for ages.
‘I’m trying to make some room in here,’ Ally answered, barely looking down. ‘The new extension starts in a month and Vivien wants all the old admission record books to be filed in here.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ally answered, ‘and I don’t really care. She asked me to make a start on it when I had a moment and that’s what I’m doing.’
‘Is everything OK, Ally?’ Rory asked, and the concern in his voice wasn’t helping at all. Her nose started to run, a precursor to the tears that had been threatening since that morning. ‘You seem a bit flat.’
‘I’m fine.’ Concentrating on keeping her voice steady, Ally gave the shelf she was cleaning another needless spray of detergent.
‘You’re not avoiding me, are you?’
‘Avoiding you? Rory, why on earth would I be avoiding you?’ Tears dried up, annoyance taking over now.
‘I don’t know,’ Rory admitted. ‘Maybe I said something last night…’
‘Rory, I know we’re friends and everything and, yes, it’s great to see you again but, believe it or not, I do have a life that doesn’t revolve around you.’
‘I know you do. I just thought you seemed a bit upset.’
‘I am!’ Her brown eyes flashed as she spoke. ‘And guess what, Rory? It has absolutely nothing to do with you!’
As the door closed behind him Ally carried on with her furious cleaning, refusing to even think about him. How dared he swan in and assume that just because she was upset, just because she was a bit flat, it was about him?
On the plus side the shelf space was organised in record time. Her rage had made her productive, but on the down side there was no reason at all to stay in the storeroom and she damn well wasn’t going to give Rory the satisfaction of thinking she was avoiding him. At least the afternoon observations were due, and Ally made her way around her patients, checking the mothers’ and babies’ observations. Only Kathy Evans didn’t have any visitors, and as Ally walked into her room, Kathy quickly took Toby off her breast and did up her nighty.
‘Don’t stop on my account.’Ally smiled, picking up the baby’s chart and pulling out her pen. ‘How long did he feed for?’
‘I didn’t time it,’ Kathy answered tartly, pulling a blanket around her babe. ‘Unlike the staff here, I don’t have one eye on the clock. Toby feeds when he’s hungry. I’d sleep when he did if there wasn’t someone constantly coming in to check up on me.’
‘Has he had dirty nappies since I was last in?’ Ally asked, deliberately ignoring Kathy’s argumentative tones.
‘Just a wet one,’ Kathy said, grimacing slightly as she tried to turn herself to get out of bed.
Knowing she would probably be shot down in flames for even offering, still, Ally put down the chart and offered her assistance.
‘Would you like me to put him down for you, Kathy?’ In a surprising move from the very bristly, independent lady, Kathy rather reluctantly relented, handing over her infant and watching closely as Ally checked his observations and filled in his chart, then took a moment to settle him in his cot, soothing the restless babe to sleep.
‘How are you feeling this afternoon?’ Ally asked, as Toby started to settle.
‘I’ll be fine when I get home. The doctor this morning said I need to be in for a couple more days but I want to get Toby home.’
‘Five days is around average for a Caesarean section,’ Ally said. ‘I just need to check your observations and take a look at your wound and your breasts.’
‘I’m OK,’ Kathy bristled. ‘I’ve just fed my son and I’d like to get some sleep, please.’
‘I ought to do your obs, Kathy,’ Ally pushed. ‘And then if you like I can pull the curtains and leave you to doze. I can put a sign up on your door so that the domestic doesn’t disturb you when she brings round afternoon tea. I can ask Win to save it for you if you’d prefer.’
Slightly mollified, Kathy nodded. ‘OK,’ she s
ighed. ‘Do my obs, but can we save the breast and wound checks for later? I’ve just got comfortable.’
‘Sure,’ Ally reluctantly agreed, fiddling with the buttons and pressing the start button on the machine. ‘How’s the breastfeeding going?’
‘It would be going a lot better if I didn’t have a massive scar on my stomach and a drip in my arm,’ Kathy snapped. ‘I hate to think of the drugs I’m passing on to Toby.’
Frowning as she saw Kathy’s rather elevated blood-pressure reading, Ally pulled her stethoscope from around her neck and checked it manually this time, but the reading was the same, if anything a bit higher.
‘Is there a problem?’ Kathy asked.
‘Your blood pressure’s a bit on the high side, Kathy. Do you have any pain—’
‘Could you just tell me the reading, please?’ Kathy broke in. ‘I don’t need to spoken to like a five-year-old!’
‘It’s one hundred and seventy over ninety,’ Ally answered calmly, refusing to rise to Kathy’s provocative tone and popping the tympanic thermometer into her patient’s ear. ‘And your temperature is elevated too—it’s thirty-eight degrees,’ she added without waiting for Kathy to ask. ‘I really ought to have a look at your stomach.’
‘So that the doctor can do the same again in ten minutes’ time?’ Kathy snapped, and Ally gave up trying to reason with the woman.
‘I’ll go and let the doctor know.’
‘Well, can you make sure that it’s not Rinska?’ Kathy said tartly as Ally headed for the door, her shoulders stiffening as Kathy’s hostile tones continued. ‘If my blood pressure’s up and that woman comes near me, I’ll probably end up having a stroke!’
‘Problem?’ Rory asked as Ally came over to the desk.
‘Kathy Evans is hypertensive—one hundred and seventy over ninety; she’s febrile, too, at thirty-eight degrees.’
‘How’s the baby?’ Rory asked, turning rapidly to the baby’s obs chart, nodding in relief at the stable readings. ‘His obs all seen fine.’
‘He’s OK,’ Ally agreed. ‘He’s demand-feeding and has had plenty of wet nappies.’
The Midwife's Special Delivery Page 6
