New Doc in Town / Orphan Under the Christmas Tree

by Meredith Webber

  At first he couldn’t work out what the piece of paper was, or why he had it, but one glance at the charred edges and he knew. It was whatever Bobby had been burning in the toaster, a picture of something.

  This morning seemed a very long time ago, but at least this was another diversion.

  Forgetting about adding more clothes to the wash, Tom started the wash then carried the scrap of singed paper into the kitchen and put it down on the table, smoothing the edges carefully so the charred bits didn’t break away. He turned it around, studying it from different angles, finally seeing in the darkened paper what looked like the image of a witch—someone with a tall hat anyway.

  A magician?

  Merlin?

  The name floated up from some distant well in his brain. Had he had a book with Merlin the Magician in it?

  A favourite book?

  Another memory rose from the sludge—Jane reading to him, reading loudly so her voice almost drowned out their parents’ shouting.

  Someone else was shouting. His visitors! Bobby’s voice shrill with what Tom guessed might become a familiar plaint, ‘It wasn’t my fault.’

  Lauren’s voice was more controlled. ‘Tom, if you’re home, could you give us a hand?’

  He headed for the front door, pleased to be dragged away from what were becoming very disturbing memories, while the question of why Bobby would be burning a picture of Merlin—or any wizard or witch—still hovered in his mind.

  ‘We shopped,’ Lauren explained as he relieved her of a couple of green reusable shopping bags so she could attend to whatever disaster seemed to have befallen Bobby.

  ‘I can see that,’ Tom told her, smiling because for all the anguish and emotion of the morning there was something very special in seeing Lauren walking into his house with shopping bags—and that thought he’d set aside for further consideration later.

  ‘Bobby’s bag had the eggs,’ Lauren added quietly, kneeling on the ground beside the boy, who was trying to separate a bottle of tomato sauce from runny, gooey, well-smashed eggs.

  ‘Let’s take the whole bag over to the tap and wash things there,’ she suggested, and although Bobby’s face turned mutinous he did pick up the bag and head towards the outside tap. Lauren detached the hose, but wasn’t fast enough to move back as Bobby turned the tap on—hard—so water sprayed all over her and the shopping bag and a large part of the veranda.

  To Tom’s surprise Lauren didn’t protest, simply waiting until Bobby had readjusted the pressure then thanking him for doing it, as if being soaked to the skin was an everyday occurrence. A very damp Lauren pulled the contents of the bag out one by one, and together the pair washed egg off everything, including the bag itself.

  ‘There are more bags in the car if you can drag yourself away from your role as onlooker and carry them in,’ Lauren said, and Tom realised he’d stopped at the top of the steps and was still holding the bags he’d taken from her, riveted by the sight of the body the wet clothes revealed.

  ‘I should go over to the hospital,’ Lauren said when, clad in clean, dry clothes, she joined him in the kitchen where he was unpacking groceries, supervising Bobby’s bringing in of the laundry through the window.

  ‘And I should go with you, at least to introduce you,’ Tom told her, thinking more of being there to support Lauren through what would have to be an ordeal than the need for a formal introduction. ‘Is Jo still available for babysitting duties?’

  Lauren studied the man who’d asked the question. Had there been something more in his voice than the casual words suggested?

  ‘Are you worried I’ll fall apart again?’ she asked—well, all but demanded as the mess of emotion inside her came back to churning life.

  ‘I’m her doctor,’ Tom said gently, and Lauren cringed with shame at her reaction.

  Obviously?

  She didn’t know, but for some reason Tom was holding her again, tucking her body against his chest, brushing his lips in her hair as he murmured assurances at her.

  ‘I would never doubt your professionalism, you must know that,’ he was saying, but although the words were calming the churning going on inside her, the warmth of his body against hers was doing other things to other parts of her, sending shivers of excitement along her nerves, down passageways to the apex of her belly, starting up a longing she barely understood in a body that had never felt satisfaction.

  This was ridiculous!

  Impossible!

  What had happened to the professionalism Tom had just assured her she had?

  A patient needed her.

  That was urgent.

  Less urgent but of equal importance was the problem with the refuge.

  So why was she wasting precious time clinging to Tom Fletcher like misplaced barnacle?

  ‘Bleagh!’

  Bobby had returned and Lauren sprang away from Tom, then, with cheeks she knew must be aflame, she mumbled and bumbled her way back to the conversation.

  ‘Jo—I don’t—perhaps working—not good—could you—?’

  ‘That was just a hug, Bobby,’ she heard Tom say through the fog in her brain, ‘but now I’m going to give Lauren a good kiss so if you don’t want to watch and maybe get some pointers, you can turn your back.’

  And with that Tom kissed her firmly on the lips, not solving anything because she ended up more confused than ever, the kiss having electrified the shivers into arcs of lightning.

  She did manage, eventually, to push away, and find enough words to make a proper sentence.

  Several proper, albeit short sentences!

  ‘Jo’s working this afternoon. I can introduce myself to Alyssa. Maybe you and Bobby can fix dinner.’

  And on that note she fled, although Bobby’s strident protest about women’s work followed her out the door—heaven only knew what Tom’s protest might have been …

  Lauren headed through the hospital, checking with a nurse on the way where she might find Alyssa.

  The woman lay very still in the bed, curled into a ball but facing towards the door. Facing potential danger? Her dark hair spread across the pillow, knotted and tangled in places where no doubt she’d twisted and turned, and the brown eyes that opened at Lauren’s entrance were dark pools of misery.

  ‘I’m Lauren Cooper, and I’m not here for any particular reason except to see if there’s anything I can do for you. Brush your hair? I’m a dab hand with waterless shampoo. I could get you sorted in no time.’

  She edged closer as she spoke and was relieved to see a slight smile lighten the woman’s beautiful if haggard face.

  ‘I’m a friend of Tom’s, the doctor, and I’m also the hospital psychologist if you want to talk to a professional at any time, but for now I thought you might just like someone to talk to as a friend, or just be here with you for a while.’

  Alyssa nodded to the chair set against the wall of the small room.

  Lauren pulled it closer to the bed, and sat down in it.

  ‘Do you need a hug?’ she asked gently, and Alyssa’s tiny smile grew a little broader.

  ‘I’m too sore for hugs—bad shoulder,’ she whispered, ‘but a hand squeeze perhaps?’

  Lauren swallowed hard and took the woman’s hand, gently squeezing the fingers then clasping the hand in both of hers, sitting quietly while Alyssa became used to her presence in the room.

  Eventually Lauren spoke—quietly and carefully.

  ‘I know you wouldn’t want your children to see you like this, but would you like me to bring in some photos of them? I know Karen Williams. I could drive over to her place and get some snaps or take some new ones of the kids and print them out on my computer if you’d like recent ones.’

  Alyssa’s dark eyes studied her in silence then, in a trembling whisper, she asked, ‘Not right now but later, would you go and see them? Make sure they’re okay. Karen keeps phoning to tell me they are but I need someone to see them.’

  The desperation in that husky voice meant Lauren had to swallow again b
efore she could reply.

  ‘I can only imagine how you must feel,’ she murmured. ‘Of course I’ll go but even before I see them I can assure you that if Karen Williams says they’re okay, they will be. She’s one tough woman!’

  There was a brief silence then Alyssa spoke again.

  ‘I suspect she might have had to be,’ she whispered.

  ‘What makes you think that?’ Lauren asked, although she already suspected the answer. Domestic abuse wasn’t genetic, but sons often learnt from their fathers.

  ‘Why else would she be so supportive? Why else would she be backing me against her own son?’ Alyssa whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks.

  ‘At least you have her in your corner, and me, and all the hospital staff. You do know that, don’t you? No matter who the perpetrator is, domestic violence isn’t tolerated in this town. That’s one reason we encourage women to report it.’

  Alyssa shook her head, not violently but tiredly.

  ‘I just couldn’t do it—couldn’t go through the court process. I thought I could once before but pulled out and so I know I won’t this time. At least, not yet.’

  She moved on the bed, shifting with discomfort, then her dark eyes fixed on Lauren’s face.

  ‘I remember you from the tree raising. Before the accident. You knew him, didn’t you?’

  Lauren nodded, understanding exactly what Alyssa had meant by ‘knew’.

  ‘Did he hurt you?’

  Lauren nodded again, and Alyssa turned her hand so now she was holding Lauren’s, two women united in pain, one present, one past …

  ‘It’s finished,’ Alyssa finally said. ‘I kept trying for the girls’ sakes. He’s a good father, he really is, but not any more. Karen’s phoned my father and he’ll be here in a day or two. He’ll take us home—back to Wisconsin, where we belong.’

  Her voice broke on the last words, and she cried again, heartbroken sobs, streaming hot tears, and Lauren understood that they were tears of grief—grief for lost dreams and for the love that couldn’t be …

  When the storm of emotions ended, Alyssa slipped into a deep and hopefully more restful sleep. Remembering her promise to get photos, Lauren phoned Tom to check Bobby hadn’t burnt down the house, then drove out to the Williams place, about twenty acres nestled in the foothills of the mountains, a sparkling creek running through it, small cabins dotted here and there among the trees.

  Dogs barked as she pulled up to open the gate into the house yard of the property and ahead of her she could see two little girls chasing chickens around a shady tree. A photo like that should reassure their mother!

  Karen was waiting on the veranda at the top of the steps when Lauren pulled up on the drive. The little girls had scuttled back to the house and now peeped out from behind their grandmother’s skirts.

  ‘Lauren Cooper!’ Karen said as Lauren emerged from the car. ‘You don’t know how often I’ve been thinking about you. About that refuge you run and how I might help, but I guess you’ve come about Alyssa, not to chat.’

  The opening conversation was surprising—even startling—but the light was fading fast and if Lauren wanted outside photos she’d better get going. She dug her camera out of the car.

  ‘I popped in to see Alyssa at the hospital,’ she said as she climbed the steps towards the reception party at the top. ‘I thought some pictures of the kids might cheer her up so I wondered if you’d mind if I took some. I can print them off at the office and take them in to her.’

  Lauren smiled at the two little girls.

  ‘I’m Lauren,’ she said.

  The elder girl just stared at her, but the younger, about three, Lauren guessed, was more friendly.

  ‘I’m Eve and that’s my sister Zoe,’ she said, and gravely put out her hand to shake Lauren’s.

  Zoe then yielded and put out her hand too, and Lauren shook them both.

  ‘Go and see if you can get the hens back into the pen,’ Mrs Williams told the girls, shooing them away with her hands.

  It must have been a task the girls were delighted to do, for they went whooping and cheering on their way, leaving Karen and Lauren on the veranda.

  ‘They won’t come to any harm out there—the dogs will watch over them. I want to talk to you for a moment.’

  Lauren heard the strain in Karen’s voice and saw the woman’s face was full of pain.

  ‘I’m so ashamed of what he did—a son of mine—but you need to know, everyone needs to know, I’m on Alyssa’s side in this and I’ve got her father coming over to take her home so she’ll be safe. But there’s something else—the something I should have done earlier. Nat’s father was the same and I didn’t tell and now I know I should have.’

  She paused, looking directly at Lauren.

  ‘I’ve been thinking of the past and the future for the last three years, since you started the refuge. I want to help there—volunteer—to talk to the women about getting out from under men like that and taking control of their lives. I did it in the end—too late now I know Nat’s followed in his father’s footsteps—but I made something of myself and I want those women to know they can as well.’

  Lauren moved towards her automatically, and took the older woman in a tight, warm hug.

  ‘That would be wonderful,’ she said. ‘Just wonderful! Everyone in town knows how well you’ve done with your farm-stay business so it would certainly give the women hope.’

  ‘I’d like to give them more than hope,’ Karen continued. ‘I’m giving up the farm stay as a business for myself and I want to offer this place to the organisation. The women could use it for weekends and holidays, or they could run it themselves as a farm-stay place. I’d like any women in the house right now to come for Christmas if they’d like that. If Alyssa’s still here, it would be good for her too. There are heaps of animals for the kids to play with and plenty for the women to do. What do you think?’

  Lauren’s mind had, at first, had trouble keeping up, but now it leapt ahead as she envisaged what having a business like this would mean to the refuge. She could keep the safe house open, and find employment for at least some of her charges. There was heaps to work out of course, but …

  She gave Karen another huge hug, muttered a thank you, promised to talk soon, then dashed back down the stairs to take photos before the light faded.

  ‘Look!’ she said to Alyssa a little later. ‘Kids with hens, kids with eggs, kids with the calf, Zoe hugging the big dog, Eve trying to pick up the little dog. They are lovely girls, a real credit to you, and I can assure you they’re as happy as they can possibly be with no Mom around right now.’

  Alyssa took the photos and leafed through them, smiling and crying at the same time. Finally she propped them up everywhere she could, on the little table, on the stand beside the bed, even handing some back to Lauren and pointing to the window, so Lauren could stick them in the frame.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, and held out her hand. Lauren took it and squeezed it again—a hand hug.

  ‘Hair now?’ she suggested, and to her surprise Alyssa nodded, so Lauren hurried off to get the things she kept in the bottom of her filing cabinet in the office. She was walking down the passage with her basket of special treats when she ran into Tom.

  ‘Have you persuaded Mike to put Bobby in the lock-up?’ she demanded.

  Tom grinned at her.

  ‘Close! Very close! Mike did call by just as we’d put the roast in the oven and as he was going over to the refuge and Bobby wanted to look for something over there—some mysterious something that wasn’t packed in his luggage—he offered to take him and return him in … ‘

  Tom glanced at his watch.

  ‘Another three-quarters of an hour.’

  He peered at the basket she held in her hands. ‘Red Riding Hood on her way to Grandma’s house?’

  Lauren grinned at him and lifted the pink towel that hid the basket’s contents.

  ‘Dry shampoo, clean brushes and combs, body moisturiser, hand
cream, foot rubs—very refreshing with a touch of mint—revitalising face masks for the serious long-stay patient, in fact, everything that might be needed to pamper someone who’s not feeling crash hot.’

  He looked up from the basket, right into her eyes, and something in his sent a shiver down her spine, but all he said was, ‘You are a good woman, Lauren Cooper.’

  He continued on his way, Lauren on hers, although she was distracted from the task in hand as she spread a towel on Alyssa’s pillow then sprayed the dry shampoo onto the woman’s long dark hair. She chatted away to Alyssa as she brushed and combed, then, finally satisfied, began to massage lotion into Alyssa’s hands, but while she was explaining that she’d discovered how much better it made hospitalised women feel if they were pampered a little, her mind was on Tom, and the look she’d seen in his beautiful grey eyes …

  Not that a relationship between them could go anywhere, she reminded herself. Relationships meant sex.

  At least Tom wouldn’t think she was nothing more than a tease.

  At least Tom would understand …

  The squelch of disappointment in her stomach told her she didn’t want Tom understanding. If anything, she wanted him as a lover, but could she handle the physical side of being a lover herself?

  Too many question marks hovering in her head. She’d think about the refuge and how they could make, with Karen’s help, a home-stay business work. Or think about Bobby.

  But thinking about Bobby brought a new squelchy feeling in her stomach. If ever a little boy needed love and stability in his life, it was Bobby.

  Could she give him that?

  She was sure she could.

  But didn’t he also need a father?

  ‘Was that good psychology or instinct this afternoon, that you didn’t yell at him but let him sort out the tap pressure himself?’ the man who wasn’t Bobby’s father asked Lauren later. They were sitting on the veranda, the roast dinner finished, although a full moon together with streetlights had meant Bobby could still show off his bike skills.

  Clad in his new jeans, boots, shirt and cowboy hat, he was doing wheelies on his bike on the front drive, while they acted as audience.