by Rebecca Lang
‘I’m well, thank you,’ she replied, knowing that she was being formal and stiff with him, not knowing how to unbend, even after that lighthearted exchange in the coffee-lounge. ‘And I’m really enjoying the work. The liver cases are interesting.’
‘I’m glad you find it so,’ he said. ‘How is the young Finn? I assume he doesn’t mind that you work outside the home?’
‘He’s with his grandmother most of the time,’ she said, taking care not to sound defensive. ‘They love each other and enjoy each other. I…guess he would prefer that I didn’t work.’
‘Mmm.’
‘I believe that children,’ she rushed on, ‘need to be with people who love them all the time, until they have a strong sense of self and are able to cope with people who don’t love them, or maybe even like them.’ She paused, flushing.
‘You certainly feel strongly about that,’ he said, smiling. ‘I agree with you one hundred per cent.’
Anna grinned back, a little sheepishly. It was very nice when he smiled at her—she felt warmed by it. ‘Yes, I do feel strongly about it. Hope I don’t sound preachy and holier-than-thou. If I didn’t have my mother to look after Finn, I don’t think I would be working, even if I had to live in poverty. I would have a roof over my head, anyway, courtesy of my parents. Poverty is relative.’
‘Why are you really looking for Simon?’ he said unexpectedly, as though she had not already explained.
‘For Finn. I don’t know how I feel about Simon…it’s been such a long time. The Simon I knew might not be that person—if he’s alive.’ For the first time she found that she did not want to hint that she might still have some feelings for Simon, because she didn’t know herself how she felt about him now. The image in her mind was of the Simon she had known before Finn’s birth. Would she still care for the Simon she would find? If she ever found him…
‘Can you still care for someone you haven’t seen for years?’ he said. ‘I know that depends on the circumstances of the separation, but he was not with you during your pregnancy.’ Again, he was looking at her astutely as he lathered his hands and arms, while she did the same. ‘It wasn’t as though he had to go away and fight in a war, or anything like that.’
Anna felt somewhat affronted by the bluntness of his comments, and she was really on the defensive now, even though there was a certain relief in having things out in the open.
‘I don’t know how to answer that,’ she said quietly. ‘I know that if I find Simon, he may be a different person. We’ve both grown up. I know I have, since Finn was born. If nothing else, he’ll know that he has a son. Surely that’s worth something?’ She felt angry and emotional, as though she wanted to cry. It was partly because he spoke sense.
‘Yes,’ he said quietly, ‘it is worth something. I don’t want to upset you, Anna, by being curious. It’s nothing to do with me really.’
‘You’re very reticent about yourself, Dr Ruelle,’ she said, ‘but you expect me to bare my soul.’
‘We’ll get together some time and I’ll tell you all about myself,’ he said, smiling. ‘Let’s be friends, Anna. All right?’
She gave no reply to that, her face flushed as she kept her eyes on the job in hand.
‘Friends?’ he persisted.
‘Yes.’
‘Perhaps you’ll come out for a drink with me one day, Anna? After work?’ he said.
‘I…Maybe,’ she said.
‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he said, his tone light.
‘Could I, please, have those two photographs back that I lent you, Dr Ruelle?’ she asked stiffly.
Finishing the scrub process, she went into the operating room ahead of him. Her conversation with him had left her oddly nervous, fearful that she might be less than competent. So, he had asked her out, even though he had not named a specific day. Did she want that? Yes, the answer came back to her. Yes, she did. It was crazy to feel loyalty to Simon when she didn’t know whether he was alive or dead…when he might not feel any such loyalty for her. Yet she did. God help her, she did.
Quickly she began to set up the prep table. A scrub nurse had to be at least one step ahead of the surgeon who was coming along behind her from the scrub sinks, so she had to arrange her setup in the order that the equipment would be used.
‘Take your time, Anna,’ Seth said, as she helped him into his gown. ‘There’s no rush.’
When his eyes met hers, his smiled slightly. Perhaps he did understand after all.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ll be all right, and I’ll be ready.’
‘Of course you will,’ he said.
As she prepared her set-up, he came over to stand near her. ‘With this case I’m going to take out a whole lobe of the liver. He’s a lucky man that it hasn’t spread beyond one lobe. I did the original gut resection for the colon cancer, then I decided to give him a course of chemotherapy and radiation before taking out the liver tumour.’
Anna nodded. Although it was going to be a long day, as they had a full operating list, it would be an interesting one.
Once the first case was under way, Anna’s absorption in her work took over so that she was her usual competent self. Thus, the day seemed to go by very quickly. By the time the transition had been made between the nursing shifts, it was four o’clock.
After changing in the locker room, she said goodbye to Emma and went out into the corridor. As she walked to the nearest stairwell to go down to the ground floor she saw Seth come out through the double doors of the main entrance to the operating suite. Close behind him came the beautiful pathologist, Dr Carmel Saigan.
As Anna hurried towards the stairs, muffled in her warm coat, she pulled her wool hat down over her ears, feeling self-conscious. Unnoticed herself, she saw that the two doctors were totally absorbed in each other, talking and smiling. Then, just before she stepped down the stairs, she saw Seth put an arm around Dr Saigan’s shoulders.
Not an envious person usually, she found herself feeling a sense of envy and loneliness that surprised her by its sharp intensity.
It was good to get outside the hospital, to feel the crisp, cold air of early winter on her face. As she hurried to the street-car stop, the cold seemed to bring her back to the reality of her personal situation. Already she had waited a long time for Simon, in suspended animation as it were, so perhaps she should give the search for him a definite time-frame. After that, she would give up the active search. After all, she could not go on paying Hector Smythe, even though he had made an agreement with her that he would only charge her for definite results, not for fruitless searches. Each clue would be worth something to her.
When she gave up the search, would she find another man to love? Someone who would care for Finn like a real father and not just go through the motions? On that score she would never compromise.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AGAIN after arriving home from work, the first thing Anna did was check her answering-machine. Sure enough, there was a message from Hector Smythe. ‘Could you phone me this afternoon or tomorrow morning?’ he asked cryptically. ‘We appear to have got a lead and I prefer not to leave information on your answering-machine. Alternatively, you could come in person. Call me first, anyway.’
Anna sat down, feeling rather tremulous, undecided whether to call him now, as it was getting past office hours. First, she took off her coat, slowly and deliberately and hung it in the cupboard in her tiny hallway, seeing that her hands were shaking. Sometimes when you thought you would be calm about something, you found you were not calm at all, and more often that not you could not control your emotions.
After plugging in her electric kettle in order to make tea, she found the courage to call Hector Smythe’s office number. Janet’s recorded voice answered, telling her that the office was closed, but to call the emergency number if the matter was urgent.
In a way, she was relieved. This would give her time to psych herself up to receive the news, which she felt must be significant this time. Tomorro
w, a day off for her, would be soon enough, she decided.
It was a relief and a pleasure to sit down on her comfortable squashy old sofa that had been donated by her parents, to cradle a mug of tea, put her stockinged feet up on the coffee-table and let her eyes rove slowly around her sitting room that contained cherished objects and pictures that had been hers or her parents’ for a long time. As she sipped the tea, she gradually relaxed, withdrawing from the stresses of the day, letting herself give up her persona of operating room nurse and take on the one of being Finn’s mother again.
She changed into her usual jeans and sweatshirt, secured her hair in a ponytail with an elastic band. Examining her pale face in a mirror, she saw shadows under her eyes. Working outside the home, even part time, was taking its toll on her physically, yet already she could feel the benefit of the mental stimulation that the work provided, of having the companionship of congenial colleagues. That was something she had missed a lot. Of course, there were inevitably abrasive personalities who could make life difficult, but so far in this job she had struck it lucky.
‘Are you there, Anna?’ her mother called through the connecting door at the top of the stairs.
‘Yes, I’m here.’
‘I thought I heard you come in. Would you like a cup of tea? Dad and I are going to have one.’
‘Just had one,’ she said, ‘but I’ll have another.’
She could hear Finn running about overhead, and her father’s voice talking to him. Tonight she and Finn were having supper with her parents, which was just as well as her energy level was low.
‘Mummy! Mummy!’ Finn shouted.
‘Coming,’ she called back.
* * *
Later, when Finn had had a bath and was dressed in his pyjamas, seated on the sofa waiting for her to read him a bedtime story, the phone rang. ‘Hang on a minute, Finn,’ she said, going out into the hallway to answer the call.
‘Hello, Anna. This is Seth. I happen to be passing your home and I’d like to drop off your two photographs.’
‘Oh…’ she said. He was the last person she had expected.
‘Is that all right with you? I hope it’s not inconvenient.’
‘Um…no…no,’ she said. ‘Where are you?’
‘Right outside your house, in my car.’ She could tell that he was perturbed by having surprised her, yet she had the intuitive feeling that he was checking her out. He could have given her the photographs at work.
‘How did you find out where I live?’ she asked.
‘I asked Emma.’
‘Oh, well, do come in,’ she said, flustered, her face flushed and sweaty after giving Finn a bath. ‘Come round to the back of the house, along the path at the left-hand side. You’ll see a pink door—that’s where I am, in the basement.’
She rushed back into the sitting room. ‘Finn,’ she said to her son, who was ensconced on the sofa, surrounded by books from which he was choosing a story, ‘we have a visitor for a few minutes, a man I work with. You just stay there and choose a story. All right?’
‘Yes,’
She was at the door, opening it, before Seth had a chance to ring the bell. It was odd to see him there, standing on her doorstep. There was little time to be concerned that she looked untidy and her home very lived-in, with Finn’s toys and books strewn about.
‘Hello,’ he said. He wore a heavy, dark grey overcoat against the cold of the evening, and in his hand he held the envelope that contained the photographs.
Anna shivered in the sudden blast of cold air. ‘Will you come in?’ she offered. ‘Perhaps you would like to meet Finn. He’s still up. I have to read him a story.’
‘All right,’ he said, stepping into the hallway. ‘Yes, I’d like to meet him.’
‘Let me take your coat. I expect you’re in a hurry to get home.’
‘I have plenty of time,’ he said, handing her the envelope before shrugging out of his overcoat. In the confined space of the hallway he seemed even taller and bigger, making her aware of a certain female fragility as she stood beside him, especially when she felt herself buckle at the knees as she took the weight of his coat.
‘This is a very heavy coat,’ she said, feeling the remark to be inane, but the first thing to come into her head.
‘Here.’ He smiled, taking it back from her. ‘Where shall I put it?’
‘There’s a chair in the sitting room.’
Finn was still enthroned among his books when Anna preceded Seth into the sitting room, and Finn looked a little startled to see a strange, large man in his familiar domain.
‘Finn,’ said, ‘this is Dr Ruelle.’
‘Hi, Finn,’ Seth said, squatting down near the little boy. ‘Your mother’s told me about you, so I wanted to meet you. I’m Seth.’ His voice was gentle and he smiled, not trying to overwhelm the child with a false bonhomie that was so common from adults meeting a child for the first time, which tended to make Anna cringe. ‘Your mother and I work together at the hospital.’
Finn, not entirely at ease, stared back, mute.
Anna felt suffused with pride and love at the image of her son, clad in his red pyjamas with the white polar-bear motif on them. His legs stuck out at right angles to his body, his feet were bare and his fair hair was damp from his bath. To her, he looked utterly adorable. Behind Seth’s back she swallowed nervously, hovering uncertainly, as she thrust the errant strands of hair behind her ears.
Finn looked straight into Seth’s face, with all the honesty and curiosity of the young child. Then he said, ‘Are you my daddy?’
Anna caught her breath, her heart giving an extra thud of alarm. Finn had never asked any man that before, and she was torn between acute embarrassment and admiration for his courage at voicing what he was thinking. There was a certain resemblance between Seth and Simon.
‘No,’ Seth said gently. ‘But I think I would like to be. I’ve always wanted a little kid just like you. I may be related to your daddy.’
Then, to her relief, Finn smiled, although Anna could tell that he was still somewhat intimidated by this big man. ‘Um…’ she said, ‘he isn’t usually so…precocious.’
‘It’s all right.’ Seth looked up at her. ‘That’s part of the charm of little kids, they don’t dissimulate. Not like adults, who are capable of telling the most gross lies without batting an eyelid.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I like that, too.’
‘Are you looking for a story?’ Seth enquired politely of Finn.
‘Found one,’ Finn said, more shyly now, hanging his head and darting quick glances upward.
‘What is it?’
‘“Lost Lamb”.’
‘Would you like me to read it to you?’ Seth asked, while Anna still hovered, unsure what to do with herself.
‘All right,’ Finn agreed.
‘You must be in a hurry to get home,’ she said.
‘Trying to get rid of me, Anna?’ He looked up at her, his eyebrows raised in amusement.
‘No, I’m not,’ she said truthfully, holding his gaze. Not for a long time had she felt so oddly shy and lacking in repartee, so gauche. ‘It’s just that I don’t want to impose.’
‘You don’t impose,’ he said softly, not looking away.
‘Would you like a cup of coffee or something?’ she asked, realising only too well that her social graces had slipped during the past three to four years, when the frequency of playing the role of hostess had gone down to almost zero for her, except with two or three close friends.
‘What’s the “or something”?’ he enquired.
‘Well…tea,’ she said. ‘Or I could run up to my parents’ place and get you a whisky and soda.’
‘Make it tea,’ he said. ‘Thank you. And I have to confess that I had those two photographs copied. They could help me if I make a few enquiries. Hope you don’t mind.’
‘What if I do mind?’ she said, wanting to challenge him on something.
‘I would give them to you, of course,’ he
said.
‘It’s all right,’ she said, shrugging. ‘I’m grateful for any help.’
She almost ran out to the kitchen, where she had the very confusing idea that she didn’t know where anything was kept and had to open cupboard doors at random. ‘Kettle first,’ she said to herself, forcing herself to calm down, wondering why she felt so uptight. Perhaps it was because, having protested for so long that she wanted to find Simon, she was attracted to another man.
As she listened to Seth’s voice reading the familiar story, she got the tea things ready, and thought how incongruous it was to have him reading to her son.
When she carried the tea on a tray into the sitting room, she saw that Finn had sunk sleepily against a cushion, his eyelids drooping, so she went to his bedroom to get his special blanket and teddy-bear, which were always with him when he slept. When she gave them to him he hugged them to his chest, curled up against the cushion and fell asleep, like the switching off of a light, just as the story came to an end. It was a faculty of children that she envied.
Seth got up and moved to a chair. ‘He’s a great kid,’ he said quietly.
‘Yes, he is,’ she agreed, warmed by his comment as she self-consciously poured tea into mugs.
‘He’s a credit to you.’
‘Thank you.’
Being able to see this woman in her own home, Seth considered he was getting a more rounded picture of her, with a greater understanding of why she wanted to find Finn’s father. Seemingly fragile, she was, in fact, competent and strong in a quiet, assured way, he felt. As she had said, the boy would be asking before too long why his father was not with them. When Finn had said, ‘Are you my daddy?’ he had been deeply touched, thinking he detected a certain longing in the question.
For her part, as she poured two mugs of tea, Anna was wondering what she would say to him.
‘How is your father?’ he asked, making it easier for her.
‘He got over the operation amazingly well,’ she said. ‘He’s back at work, although not doing as much as he was before. He works at the university, in their chemistry department, in research. This illness will force him to reassess his life. He was a bit of a workaholic before, although he always found time for the family. I hope he won’t have a recurrence of the disease. The surgeon said it’s unlikely, but it’s not easy to live with that fear.’
