‘How dare you?’ she repeated, her voice a touch stronger now but no match for Timothy who broke in before she could even get started.
‘Tonight’s not the night, Clara. It’s better coming from Ross.’
She shook her head incredulously, straightening up but still no match for his height even in her stilettos. ‘How would you know? You haven’t even been here a full day and you think you know what Kell needs. What, is it better coming from a guy? Better that a doctor breaks the news?’
Timothy shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, but nothing was stopping Clara now. Her voice finally found, she let it rip.
‘Ross has only been here a year. I’ve known Kell all my life, so I don’t need Ross to tell me when I can and can’t talk to a friend, and I most certainly don’t need to hear it from you. He has every right to know, every right to hear it—’
‘I agree.’
‘You do?’ Confused, her voice stalled momentarily, the fire dying in her voice as she turned her questioning eyes to him.
‘Of course he should know about Abby, but that’s all. You can deny it all you like, but I’m sure there was more you were going to tell him and kissing you was the only thing I could think of to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.’ Her burning anger was replaced with scorching shame, the glittering, defiant eyes sparkling with embarrassed tears as Timothy carried on gently, even smoothing a stray tendril of hair back behind her ear as she stood there, mortified.
‘And if you told Kell you loved him, that’s exactly what it would have been.’
‘Hey, Clara, is everything all right?’
Hamo’s none-too-dulcet tones made them both jump, Clara because she wasn’t expecting it and Timothy because from the look on Hamo’s face anything other than a positive reply wasn’t going to be pretty.
She could have said no, could have burst into tears and landed Timothy right in it, but instead she forced a bright voice as the heavy weight approached. ‘Everything’s fine, Hamo.’
‘You’re sure?’ he checked, eyeing Timothy in anything other than a friendly fashion. ‘Because if you need anything you only have to give us a call.’
‘I’m fine, Hamo, really.’
They both stood in strained silence as Hamo shrugged and wandered back to the barn.
‘Thanks.’ Timothy’s smile was one of pure relief, but it changed midway when he caught sight of Clara’s face.
If she’d been angry before she was furious now, the brief pause enough to reinflate her sails. Pushing his arms away, she faced him angrily.
‘I didn’t do it to save your skin,’ she snapped. ‘The fact is I hate violence or perhaps more to the point no doubt I’d have been the one who ended up suturing you and stuck in the obs ward for the next forty-eight hours feeding you through a straw.’
‘So we both got lucky.’ Timothy grinned, totally unfazed by her anger. ‘Can we go back to being friends now?’
‘We never were friends,’ Clara retorted. ‘I’d hardly even class you as a brief acquaintance.’
‘Oh, and I suppose you go around kissing all your brief acquaintances like that?’
His humour, if you could call it that, was so appalling Clara could scarcely believe the tiny laugh that escaped her lips, but somewhere in mid-laugh it changed to a sob, and as a tell-tale tear worked its way out Timothy politely pretended not to notice.
‘Is there somewhere we can sit down? Preferably on something that isn’t made of hay, or I’ll be sneezing all night.’ She was in no position to answer, tears were choking her now, and when Timothy took her by the hand and led her to a wooden bench she followed him without resistance, sitting on the edge and digging in her bag for a tissue.
‘You’re supposed to have a silk handkerchief,’ Clara sniffed, producing a huge ream of toilet paper.
‘I dropped it when I heard Hamo coming.’
They sat in silence for a moment or two, Timothy looking up at the endless stars, one hand loosely over the back of the bench behind her as Clara wept quietly on, blowing her nose and wishing he’d just go away then changing her mind when his hand reached for her shoulder and pulled her in. He let her cry without words, just patting her shoulder and waiting patiently till she’d reached the gulping stage before finally she spoke.
‘How did you know I liked him in that way? Is it that obvious?’
‘Only to me.’ She felt him shrug beneath her cheek. ‘I know I’m good-looking and everything, I know women swoon whenever I approach.’ He laughed and caught her wrist when she playfully thumped his chest. ‘But when you dropped those notes I knew it wasn’t because of my devilish charm. I figured Shelly had said something to upset you, and when I heard about Kell and Abby getting engaged, well, it seemed to fit.
‘I know you don’t believe me, I know you think I’m interfering, but it really would have been a bad move to tell him.’
‘Maybe not,’ she argued. ‘Maybe if he—’
‘Clara.’ Timothy pulled her face up. Cupping her chin with his hand, he gazed into her tear-filled eyes. ‘You look adorable tonight, Kell’s had too much to drink and once he finds out that Abby’s done a runner he’s going to be devastated. It doesn’t take Einstein to work out where it would all end up.’
Clara blinked back at him, her forehead furrowing, positive his lips were twitching as he stared back at her.
‘Bed,’ Timothy said patiently.
‘Maybe that’s what I wanted,’ Clara said defiantly, but Timothy just shook his head, any hint of a laugh fading as he stared back at her.
‘No, it isn’t, Clara. You think that’s what you wanted, but you know deep down that you’d have hated yourself in the morning. And worse, far worse, you’d have lost Kell as a friend.’
‘How do you know?’ The anger was back in her voice now. Pushing his hand away, she stood up, half expecting him to grab her, to pull her back beside him, but Timothy sat unmoved. ‘Maybe bed’s exactly where I wanted it to end up. And if you hadn’t decided to play the moral majority maybe bed’s where I’d be heading right now. And I tell you this much, Timothy, right now it sounds like a far better option than this!’
‘Go on, then, go back in there, go and tell him how you’re feeling, but half a bottle of wine and a broken heart really doesn’t put you in the best position to make rational decisions. Take it from someone who knows.’
She stood for a moment, torn with indecision, knowing Timothy to be right yet praying he was wrong.
‘We’ve all made mistakes,’ Timothy ventured, sensing weakness. ‘We’ve all had our hearts stomped on.’
‘Please.’ Clara flashed a tear-filled glare at him. ‘What would a good-looking doctor know about a broken heart?’
‘Plenty.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve only been a good-looking doctor for a year, remember. Eighteen months ago I fell hook, line and sinker for one of the RNs on a surgical ward, and when I say I was besotted by her I mean I was seriously besotted. I had the ring picked out before I’d even plucked up the courage to ask her on a date. She was seriously stunning. The only trouble was, I was working as a nurse’s aide…’
‘You were a nurse’s aide?’
‘I had to pay my bills. Anyway it was good experience, taught me how to actually speak to patients, which is something even the best medical schools don’t even touch. Anyway, Rhonda never even glanced in my direction, not even once, until we were at a party. You know the type—a load of doctors, nurses and med students and way too much booze and suddenly she was all over me.’ He gave a cheeky grin. ‘It was the best night of my life. I’ll spare you the details, but I’m sure you get the picture. She was on an early shift and I told her I’d see her later that day at work and we’d go out for dinner, maybe go and see a band or something.’
‘Sounds nice,’ Clara commented.
‘It would have been,’ Timothy agreed. ‘Only, when she saw me on the ward the next day in my nurse’s aide uniform her face dropped a mile and she told me that she couldn�
��t possibly meet me later, that something had come up. And that was that.’
‘She dumped you for that?’
Timothy winced and nodded. ‘Of course, I should have told her I was really a medical student, that one day she’d get the doctor she so clearly wanted.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
Timothy shrugged. ‘Too much false pride, I guess. I wanted her to want me for me.’
‘Fair enough.’
After a moment’s thought she sat down beside him.
‘The story doesn’t end there, though.’ His arm slid behind her in what should have comforting brotherly sort of way but suddenly Clara was having terrible trouble breathing. ‘There’s going to be a huge postscript.’
When Clara didn’t respond he carried on regardless. ‘After I finish here I’m going to do my diving course and I’m going to walk back onto that surgical ward with a white coat on, tanned as brown as a conker, and…’
‘And what?’
‘I don’t know.’ Timothy frowned. ‘The fantasy gets a bit hazy there. Either we’ll walk off into the sunset and live happily ever after, or I’ll be terribly cruel and pretend I don’t even remember her name and totally ignore her relentless advances. I haven’t quite worked the ending out yet, but when I do I’ll let you know.’
‘Revenge is a dish best eaten cold,’ Clara said with more than a trace of bitterness, smiling when she saw Timothy’s startled expression.
‘It’s an Arabic saying,’ she explained. ‘I have the same sort of fantasies, I think it’s because I watch too many soaps.’
‘What’s your favourite?’
‘My favourite soap or my favourite fantasy?’ Clara sighed. ‘OK, you asked for it. I dream that maybe one day Kell will wake up and realise how much he adores me, realise that he simply can’t live without me, and when he tells me I’ll just shrug and say he’s too late, that I’ve moved on, that…’ Her voice trailed off, the tears starting again as she realised the futility behind so many wasted dreams.
‘What do I do now, Timothy?’ The indecision in her voice was so alien that for a moment there even she didn’t recognise it. She was a bush nurse, for heaven’s sake, used to thinking on her feet, used to making life-and-death decisions completely unaided, but right here, right now she’d never felt more unsure in her life.
‘Go home,’ Timothy said gently.
‘I can’t.’ Clara shook her head. As appealing as his suggestion was, there were a million and one jobs to be done tonight and most had Clara’s name on them. ‘There are the chairs to be stacked, the barn to be—’
‘You’d have left it for Kell,’ Timothy pointed out, ‘so why not let someone else do it?’ He had her hand now and was leading her away from the barn, away from Kell and a half a life’s worth of dreams. And after only a moment’s hesitation, after only a tiny glance backwards, Clara realised, to her own amazement, that she was meekly walking away with Timothy taking the lead.
Walking away with barely a backward glance.
CHAPTER THREE
‘MORNING!’ Ever cheerful, rubbing his hands against the crisp morning air, Timothy breezed into the clinic as Clara concentrated rather too intently on the pile of surgical gloves and suture equipment she was faithfully stocking. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘They should be along soon,’ Clara mumbled, blushing to the roots of her foiled tips, shy and utterly unable to meet his eyes.
‘The staff or the patients?’
‘Both,’ Clara answered weakly. ‘Ross has been here since the crack of dawn, admitting a labouring woman who’s in room one. He’s just raced home to grab some breakfast, he shouldn’t be much longer.’
‘Do you want me to hold the fort?’
‘Sorry?’
‘If you need to go in with her, I can watch here.’
Clara shook her head, finally realising where Timothy was coming from. ‘She’s fine. Her mother’s with her. The aboriginal women generally prefer to be left to themselves when they’re in labour.’
Surprisingly Timothy nodded. ‘It was the same in Adelaide.’ He gave a wry laugh. ‘Personally I’d be screaming from the rafters and demanding every intervention known to mankind.’
‘Me, too.’ Still she couldn’t meet his eyes, but such was her relief at the near normality of their conversation Clara even managed a small smile. ‘Still, it’s good that they trust us enough to come to the clinic. It’s important we respect their wishes, so I’ve made sure she’s comfortable and if she needs anything they’ll let us know. I’m just stocking up. Go and grab yourself a coffee.’
‘Sounds good. Do you want one?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’
Only when he had ducked into the kitchen did she managed to string two breaths together. Yesterday had been spent cringing under her duvet cover, mortified at how close she had come to confronting Kell and reeling in horror at the lengths to which Timothy had had to go to stop her. She’d prayed to be struck down by something horribly contagious so she could hide from the world for a fortnight or so.
All to no avail.
‘Did Ross tell Kell?’
He was back, talking in a theatrical whisper and grinning like an eager puppy as he awaited the latest instalment, utterly oblivious to Clara’s discomfort.
‘I assume so.’ Clara shrugged, realigning the boxes of gloves for the umpteenth time. ‘I only saw Ross for two minutes this morning, just long enough to get a quick handover, and apart from that I haven’t seen anyone since…’ Her voice trailed off as her blush deepened. ‘Since I left you.’
‘Me neither,’ Timothy said.
The silence was awful and, putting her bravest foot forward, Clara turned around tentatively. She stared somewhere in the location of his left cheek, completely unable to meet his eyes, grateful that Timothy didn’t make a comment about her heavy, swollen, red eyelids.
‘Thank you.’ When Timothy raised a quizzical eyebrow she elaborated further. ‘You were right to stop me from saying anything and I’m only sorry—’
‘Forget it.’ Timothy broke in, waving his hand dismissively, his easy smile staying firmly in place. ‘I’m just relieved we’re talking. I’ve actually been psyching myself to come over for the last hour or so. I was terrified of the reception you’d give me.’
‘Me?’ Clara asked, startled.
‘Yes, you.’ Timothy grinned. ‘I was half expecting to get a slap on the cheek or something. If I’d known the number of the clinic I’d have been tempted to ring in sick!’
‘You didn’t look very nervous,’ Clara pointed out, grinning in spite of herself.
‘I’m a good actor. Look, I probably had no right to interfere, no right to step in the way I did and mess up your plans. I just can’t help myself sometimes.’
‘Well, I’m glad you did.’
‘And I’m glad you’re glad, if that makes sense. Shall we start again? Forget everything that’s happened and start over.’
Accepting his handshake, Clara gave a small nod and finally managed to look at him, not for long, just for a second or two, but long enough to know that, as good as Timothy’s offer sounded, as much as ten minutes ago she’d have given everything she possessed to wipe the slate clean, to obliterate Saturday night’s disaster from living memory and banish it from both their minds. Right here, right now, staring into those smiling green eyes, looking up at that open honest face, Clara knew that it simply wasn’t going to happen.
Somewhere in mid-handshake, life became terribly complicated all of a sudden.
Somewhere along the way she caught the scent of his aftershave, remembered how it felt to be held by those hands, the weight of his lips on hers, the scorching kiss that she had forcibly pushed from her mind, a moment in time she’d been too embarrassed to relive…
Until now.
Now the events of Saturday night were rushing back in to her consciousness, playing over and over in her mind with glaring clarity, but her near miss with Kell barely got a look in, and judging b
y the slightly questioning look in Timothy’s eyes, from the subtle increase in his breathing and a nervous tongue running over his lips, Timothy was remembering it, too.
‘Friends?’ she croaked, forgetting to pull her hand back, barely managing to get the single word out.
‘Friends,’ Timothy agreed. If anything, his voice was even less steady than Clara’s. His warm hand was still on hers, green eyes practically obliterated by his dilating pupils as the world seemed to stop for a moment. Only the untimely appearance of Ross snapped them both to attention, causing a flurry of nervous coughing as their hands shot back and those surgical gloves came under another barrage of scrutiny, this time from both a doctor and a nurse.
‘Hi, guys.’ Oblivious to the simmering tension, Ross came and parked himself on the nurse’s desk as Clara gratefully headed for the kitchen.
‘Do you want a coffee, Ross? I was just going to make one.’
‘In a bit.’ Ross’s voice was grim and when Clara actually looked at him she realised Ross wasn’t his usual sunny self.
‘What’s up, Ross?’
‘Plenty.’ He flashed a wry grin at Timothy. ‘Sorry to leave you on your own yesterday but a few things came up.’
‘No problem,’ Timothy said easily, the silence growing as they waited for Ross to fill it.
‘How’s Mary doing?’
‘Very well.’ Clara smiled. ‘The contractions are full on now, but Louanna said again that they just wanted to be left alone as much as possible and that she’d call if they wanted anything.’
With business out of the way, Ross had no choice but to break the news.
‘Kell’s leaving.’ For a moment he didn’t elaborate, just let the news sink in as Clara stood there, stunned. She could feel Ross’s eyes on her, Timothy’s, too, and knew they were both expecting some sort of reaction.
‘I’m sorry, Clara,’ Ross said gently. ‘I know this is going to be hard, on you especially.’ Startled she looked from Ross to Timothy. Surely he hadn’t told him! But her confusion turned to relief as Ross continued. ‘I’ve already put the vacancy on every nursing agency in the phone book, but it might be a while before we get someone.’
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