by Lucy Clark
*
‘It’s no use, Luc,’ she told her friend a week later as they sat in the hospital cafeteria, enjoying a quick morning cuppa before the hecticness of their day descended. ‘Sean has made it quite clear over the past week that he resents me being here.’
‘Nonsense.’ Luc dunked a piece of croissant in his coffee before eating it. ‘He’s just…getting used to the idea, that’s all.’
Jane levelled him with a stare of disbelief and Luc had the audacity to laugh.
‘It’s true, Jane. When you first mentioned to me, all those years ago when we worked in Paris, that a man called Sean Booke was married to your sister, I thought nothing of it.’
‘Because back then you had no idea who he was,’ Jane pointed out.
‘True, but then years later when I returned to Adelaide, who do I find myself working with? None other than your Sean Booke.’ Luc finished off his croissant then spread his hands wide. ‘It’s one of the reasons why I encouraged you to come back to Adelaide, to get to know him. Sure, your sister has passed away but family is family. Plus, he’s a nice guy, Jane.’
‘To everyone but me.’
‘So you admit he’s good with the patients?’
Jane looked into her almost empty cup as she thought back to the way she’d watched Sean interact with the patients in the ward and she had to admit he was an excellent doctor. He wouldn’t rush the kids if they had something to say; instead, he’d sit on their beds and listen patiently while they talked. In clinic, she had seen several of his patients coming out of his consulting room with wide, beaming smiles on their faces, their parents looking equally as pleased.
‘Of course he’s good with the patients,’ she told Luc, ‘otherwise you wouldn’t have him working in your department.’
‘Very true. I only employ the best—which is the other reason you’re here because even without the prospect of getting to know your nephew, I still would have hounded you to work here. That was just my trump card.’
‘I know.’ Jane finished the rest of her drink, grimacing a little at the coolness of the liquid. ‘We’d better go or we’ll be late for the pre-ward round meeting.’ They both stood and placed their cups on the dirty dishes rack before heading towards the ward. ‘Will Sean be presenting another interesting case this week?’
‘Yes. Why? Do you have an interesting case you’d like to share?’
‘Not at this stage. I was just curious as to whether Sean always did the presenting or not.’
‘He organises it so if you do have an interesting case, you’ll need to speak to him.’
Jane filed that information away as they entered the room. This time, when Sean stood at the front of the staff at the meeting, discussing the noteworthy aspects of a newly admitted patient, Jane listened intently. She did her best to ignore the way his deep, smooth tones washed over her, and the way he gesticulated smoothly with his hands, pointing out the different methods of treatment that were projected onto the screen. He had lovely hands, she realised, gentle, caring hands, big and strong and able to support. The memory of him placing those hands at her waist the previous week, steadying her after she’d tripped, burst into her mind and it took all her willpower to dismiss it. She was here to concentrate on her patients, not on Sean Booke’s hands!
During the following week Jane watched Sean help a ten-year-old boy come to a level of understanding with the diagnosis of leukaemia. She found him in the ward playroom, sitting on a chair that was way too small for him, colouring in with three other children, all of them laughing together. She also saw him agonising over the correct treatment plan for one of his older patients, a fifteen-year-old girl, Mya, whose lungs weren’t responding to the usual asthma medications.
‘How’s Mya today?’ Jane asked Sean a few days later. She’d entered the nurses’ station to write up some case notes and within a matter of minutes, with nurses heading off to tend to their patients, she’d found herself alone with Sean at the desk. Having been at the hospital for two and a half weeks now, and having had several professional patient-related conversations with Sean without any mention of their shared personal connections, Jane felt more confident in enquiring about his patient. What she still found difficult to ignore was the subtle spicy scent surrounding him, one that definitely held appeal.
‘Still not stabilising.’ Sean shook his head slowly, before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. ‘I’ve tried everything. She responds to treatment for one, sometimes two days and then the symptoms return.’
‘She’s not reacting as expected to the corticosteroids? Has this happened before?’
Sean opened his eyes and handed Jane Mya’s file. ‘If you can find something I’ve missed, be my guest.’ He slumped forward onto the desk, resting his head on his hands. He was tired, bewildered and very concerned about his patient. He’d consulted with the respiratory specialists yesterday afternoon but it was becoming clear that the corticosteroids might be doing more damage than good.
‘Were you here all night?’ Jane’s words were quiet and when he lifted his head it was to find her watching him with professional empathy.
‘Arrived around three this morning, as you would have seen in the notes.’
‘But you didn’t head over to the residential wing? Catch a few hours’ extra sleep?’
Sean was too exhausted to try and look for any sort of ulterior motive for Jane’s questions. ‘I was worried about Mya. I did have a shower and change not too long ago, hoping to clear my mind a little and for the solution to miraculously present itself, but that hasn’t happened.’
Jane smiled, a soft, delicate smile that softened her green eyes. Sean stared at her for a long moment, amazed at the difference in her features, especially the lack of that wariness in her gaze that had often been present whenever they’d been in the same room together. This morning she’d pulled her long, luscious locks back from her face into a simple ponytail, her fringe neatly combed over her forehead. She wore a long-sleeved cotton top, which hung low over an ankle-length black and white striped skirt. She was neat and tidy, calm and professional, and yet this morning there seemed to be something different about her, and it wasn’t just the soft smile she was giving him.
She nodded. ‘Sometimes it is impossible to sleep, especially when there’s a patient puzzle to solve.’
Sean couldn’t believe the way her calm, peaceful tone seemed to wash over him, alleviating some of the stress that had built up in his trapezius. He forced himself to look away from her, not wanting to be drawn in by Jane Diamond and her pretty smiles. While it was true that he’d been impressed with the way she’d settled into hospital life over the past weeks, relating to staff and patients in an easy, professional manner, she also represented a connection to his past and it was a past he’d locked securely away and didn’t really fancy revisiting.
‘And with your puzzle, I’d like to offer a suggestion, if I may,’ she continued, watching as he angled his neck from side to side, trying to work out some of the kinks in his muscles. She had to resist the urge to stand behind him and gently massage his shoulders, as she would naturally offer to do for any of her other colleagues. Sean was different and with him it was imperative she keep her professional distance.
‘What’s that?’ he prompted, and it was only then she realised she was staring at him.
‘Er…sorry.’ Slightly flustered, she looked down at Mya’s notes, adjusted her glasses, even though they were already perfectly positioned on her nose, and cleared her throat. ‘Well, a few months ago, I was in Argentina at a paediatric conference—’
‘I remember. You mentioned it on your first day here.’
‘Oh? Good. Well, anyway, I bumped into a colleague who’s presently conducting a research study into a new drug for asthma sufferers, especially ones who are dependent upon or having reactions to corticosteroids.’
Sean sat up a little straighter in his chair. ‘Is that Dr Aloysius Markum?’
>
‘It is.’
‘I’ve just re-read his preliminary findings, which were published in the latest medical journal.’
‘Yes.’
‘But that study is closed. There’s no way we could get Mya onto it and, besides, she’d have to go to Sydney.’
‘That’s not entirely accurate. The study has new funding to test the drug in different climates to see if there is any difference. Australia has a great range of temperatures with, for example, places like Tasmania being almost twenty degrees cooler than Adelaide at the same time of year, which is why he’s received approval to expand the study.’
‘Do you really think you can get Mya onto the study?’ For the first time in their discussion there was a thread of hope in Sean’s words.
Jane smiled warmly and nodded. ‘Ninety-five per cent sure.’ She looked at the clock on the wall, adding on the half-hour time difference for Sydney. ‘He’ll be at the hospital now. I’ll give him a call.’ Without another word she pulled out her cellphone and dialled Dr Markum’s number.
‘Hi, Al,’ she said a moment later. ‘It’s Jane. I have a patient for your study.’
Sean watched as she gave Dr Markum Mya’s immediate details before saying, ‘I have her treating doctor here, my colleague Sean Booke.’ She held her phone out to him and nodded with encouragement. ‘He’s interested.’
With that, Sean found himself discussing Mya’s treatment with one of Australia’s leading specialists in paediatric respiratory disorders, the man Jane Diamond had simply called ‘Al’. Another fifteen minutes and it was all organised. He was to email through the relevant documentation but Dr Markum seemed more than happy at the idea of accepting Mya onto his new research study.
‘I’ll have my assistant email through what you’ll need to discuss with Mya’s parents and also the consent forms. I’m more than happy to talk to the parents either via phone or internet chat. Oh, and look after our Jane,’ Dr Markum added, without breaking for breath. ‘I’m still annoyed Luc managed to snatch her away from me.’
‘I don’t follow…’ Sean remarked, looking across to where Jane stood on the ward, chatting with one of their young patients.
‘I offered Jane a job when I knew her contract with Edna Robe was almost up. Jane’s not only a brilliant doctor but a brilliant woman. She helped my own daughter two years ago to recover from an eating disorder, which leaves me heavily in her debt, so just make sure you look after her while she’s there and, hopefully, when her contract expires, she’ll finally agree to come back to Sydney and perform her miracles here.’
With that, Dr Markum rang off, leaving Sean holding Jane’s cellphone and watching her more closely. She laughed at something the young twelve-year-old boy had said as she straightened his bedsheets, her features radiating pure happiness.
She really was very natural with their patients and to hear such a glowing reference from a man of Dr Markum’s repute, as well as the fact that Luc really had head-hunted her, made Sean consider Jane in a new light. During the past weeks he’d been so determined to keep his distance from her, not wanting to discuss or relive anything to do with his past, that he was now beginning to wonder if he hadn’t underestimated the woman Jane Diamond had turned into.
Still, the question remained—why had she turned down a man like Aloysius Markum? Surely working at a larger, more prominent hospital in Sydney was a better career move than coming here to Adelaide?
*
The question stayed with him for the next few weeks and he wondered if he had any right to ask her such a personal question. If he did, would it open the door to them discussing their past? Would it change the calm working relationship they’d managed to create, so much so that she no longer seemed on edge if they were left alone together?
‘I see Mya’s beginning to improve,’ Jane remarked as they came off the ward after an intensive round.
‘Are you heading up to the outpatient clinic?’ he asked, and she nodded. ‘I’ll walk with you, if that’s all right,’ he added.
‘Er…of course. We’re both going the same way.’ She shrugged her shoulders as though everything was perfectly normal.
Where they’d managed to form a calm, professional relationship during her time here, actually walking through the corridors together was something they’d avoided until now. Chatting at the nurses’ station? Fine. Discussing patients in outpatient clinic? Necessary. But this? Jane racked her brain for something to say, determined to keep everything strictly on a professional level. She knew she still needed to ask Sean if it was possible for her to see Spencer, to hopefully, in the long term, spend a good deal of time with her nephew, but for the time being she’d been comfortable developing a firm grounding, a professional appreciation, before she hit him with such a request. Even the thought of asking him churned her stomach.
‘Um, I’m so pleased Mya’s parents were agreeable to her taking part in the study. A lot of people are quite skittish when they hear the words “research project”.’ She smiled as she spoke.
‘It is good to see Mya improving.’ Silence reigned, their footsteps echoing in the unusually deserted corridor. ‘How’s your own research project going?’
‘Good. Thanks. Slowly at the moment but I’ve had two new patients sign up in the last week so that’s good news.’
‘Yes.’
Silence once more. She should talk more about her research project. That was a neutral topic. ‘Actually, the two patients who have signed up are siblings.’
‘Is that common?’
‘With twins perhaps, but this is a brother and sister, different ages, with different types of eating disorder.’
‘What does that tell you? Big trauma in their past?’
‘That’s the starting point.’
‘Are they close? The siblings?’
‘Not from our first interview.’
‘You and Daina never really got along, did you,’ Sean stated rhetorically, the words coming from his mouth before he could think about it.
Jane glanced up at him, a look of disbelief on her face, and when she answered her tone was clipped and brisk. ‘No.’
‘Why was that, do you think?’
Jane tried to control her rising temper. The one major topic that could easily rile her was the topic of Daina but, she rationalised, she knew that in returning to Adelaide, where Sean and Spencer had now made their home, it would eventually be something she’d have to discuss.
Reminding herself that it was necessary to remain on Sean’s good side if she wanted access to Spencer, she tried to control her reaction. Even if she could see her nephew only once a month, that would be terrific. She could get to know him, tell him about the grandparents he’d never known and share some of her better, happier memories with him.
Jane took a steadying breath and paused in the corridor, Sean stopping beside her. ‘Jane. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just blurted out—’
‘How well did you know Daina? Really know your wife?’
At her question, Sean’s expression instantly changed to one of deep-seated pain before he quickly recovered and replaced his expression with one of benign detachment. ‘Ex-wife. We were divorced soon after Spencer was born.’
‘Really? I wasn’t aware of that.’ But she was aware of the bitterness he’d been unable to disguise from his tone. ‘So if you know what she was really like, how can you ask me that?’
Sean clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. ‘Whenever I do let myself think of her, I try to remember her the way she was during those first few months of our marriage, before…’ He stopped. ‘I do it for Spencer.’ He shook his head. ‘He doesn’t need to know the truth about his mother. Not now, at any rate.’
Jane nodded. ‘I can understand that because the truth of who Daina really was, of the emotional pain she was capable of inflicting, is just too painful to remember, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ His lips barely moved as he spoke, then he exhaled harshly and shook his head. ‘Why did yo
u come here, Jane? From what I understand, you had several job offers. Why dredge up all these old emotions? Daina is dead. There’s nothing you or I can do to change the past.’
‘I don’t want to change the past, Sean.’
‘Then what do you want, Jane?’
‘I want to change my future…and I want that future to include Spencer.’
CHAPTER TWO
JANE LET HERSELF into her room, which was situated in the hospital’s residential wing. At least she’d managed to obtain a room with an en suite and small kitchenette. At the moment it was ideal, living in such close proximity to the hospital, as it lifted the pressure of finding somewhere more permanent. She could concentrate on her patients and research project and not have to worry about traffic or where to garage a car. There were shops nearby, which provided everything she required, and a good public transport service to assist her if she needed more.
It was now the beginning of February and thanks to daylight saving there was no need for her to turn on the lights, but at the moment she wished the room were in darkness. It was half past seven in the evening and she was exhausted. Not only that, she couldn’t believe she’d blurted out her sole purpose for returning to Adelaide to the one man who had total control over her request.
After she’d stated she wanted Spencer to be in her life, Sean had glared at her, his frown returning, before he’d shaken his head and walked away. Trembling with anxiety, Jane had found it almost impossible to shelve her own personal problems enough to concentrate on the clinic, highly conscious of keeping a safe distance from Sean at all times.
However, when she’d been introduced to Tessa, a young girl of six who she’d ended up admitting due to a bad urinary tract infection, one of the symptoms associated with eating disorders, Jane had pushed her own issues to the back of her mind. When the clinic ended, Jane quickly grabbed a bite to eat from the hospital’s cafeteria, before heading back to the ward to see how Tessa was settling in.
‘She’s very quiet. Not speaking,’ Anthea told her. ‘She didn’t want to stay but didn’t want to go home either.’
