Rosie swallowed hard, dug her nails into the palm of her hand. ‘You think I’d add to the complications?’ She had her own reasons why she couldn’t get involved but that didn’t mean she had to like him having reasons too.
‘I know so.’ He started to say something else, caught himself and said nothing, sitting tense and silent beside her, knocking the back of his black boot repeatedly against the front of the bench. ‘And right now is not a good time. It wouldn’t be fair on you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There are things going on that need my full attention. And your life is complicated enough, I don’t want to make it more so.’
‘Is a kiss really going to be a catastrophe?’
He shrugged. ‘Sometimes what we want isn’t what we need. Let me explain.’
She didn’t want to hear anything except the sound of his mouth on hers. But she nodded. A girl could only ask so many times to be kissed without losing complete pride.
‘Miriam walked into my life, or rather I walked into a bar and she was there. Eight weeks later we were married.’
Rosie tried, she really did, but she couldn’t help it. She counted the days she’d known him without even a kiss. Miriam had got a proposal from him in only two months.
‘She must have been something else.’ It was the most charitable comment she could manage under the circumstances.
‘She was quite a lot of things, most of all she was very different to anyone I knew. She seemed a free spirit, gorgeous, charismatic. I’m not sure I could have resisted her if I’d tried. I didn’t try very hard. It was a case of opposites attract.’
Rosie nodded but couldn’t muster one single charitable comment this time.
Nick went on. ‘We were both broke but Miriam knew how to have a good time. After the hard slog of years of studying, I wanted a piece of that life. I must have been blinded by her because I thought I’d be able to hang on to the life she offered if we got married.’ He laughed but it was a hollow sound. ‘Classic tale of the boy from the dairy farm blinded by a girl from the big city. Not that I can pin it on rustic ignorance. I’d been in the city for six years for uni. I’d worked hard and not been distracted, not above the norm at any rate, then I blew it spectacularly.’
‘What happened to your marriage?’
‘Living like there was no tomorrow took its toll. I kept it up for a while but I couldn’t maintain that pace of partying with work. Work won out.’
‘Then it was over?’
He sighed. ‘Not as quickly as you might think. It was complicated, like these things usually are. But in short I had to work nights and Miriam was out all night having fun. She refused to share any of the responsibilities but was very happy to share my pay packet. Whenever I raised the possibility of her getting a paying job beyond her art, which didn’t earn her anything at that stage, she’d accuse me of trying to stifle her creativity.
‘Our flat was full of her artist friends so I started sleeping at the hospital. It was the only way I got any rest. We dragged on far longer than we should have and I ended up financing a studio and gallery for her, it was easier than fighting her demands for it. It always ran at a loss. I was too busy to formally call it quits with her and she wasn’t about to get rid of me and my salary. I was a consultant by then. We just started living separate lives and eventually I left, with the debts for the gallery a noose around my neck. She had no permanent income so I’d been the financier and had guaranteed the flat to do so.
‘I found out later that Miriam had had a string of affairs and, piecing the picture together, I could see they’d mostly been men she thought could help her career, get her showings, introduce her to collectors. Or just lovers to feed her ego. She has no qualms about leaving the ladder of success littered with her cast-offs. She dismisses all her behaviour as a product of creative genius. I was young and naive and I found out the hard way.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m over it,’ he said as he spread his hands wide, ‘but I’m only just emerging from the web of debt. I moved over here to start again and regain my focus on my career. That’s what I’ve been doing. Until now, that’s what I’ve been doing without wavering.’
It told her so much more than the neutral tone in which he was telling her of his marriage, speaking as if he was summarising his work history. ‘It’s taken me the last couple of years to get clear of that debt so I could start building my practice. The banks wouldn’t touch me until then.’
‘And what about the other pieces? Other than financial?’ She swallowed, shoring up courage. ‘If you’re over her, why can’t you have a relationship?’
There. She’d put it out there. She braced herself almost physically for the rejection she just knew was coming her way.
‘For the simple reason I’m not yet in a place where I can commit to one.’
His tone was matter-of-fact and the bluntness of his words were like a punch in her chest.
He continued. ‘The only goal I’ve had for the past three years is to clear the debt and make up for what I lost, not just financially but also time-wise. I’m now, only now, in a position where I can start to build rather than play catch-up. I’ve sworn I won’t get distracted from that. If I do so now, I won’t be able to make it up again, the opportunities will pass me by. I can’t get involved. I can’t give you what you’d need. You or the children.’
She couldn’t hear any more, she really couldn’t. He’d made his position clear. She and the children weren’t going to be a part of his future. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said as she slid down from the bench and made a show of straightening her dress so she didn’t have to look at him.
‘Rosie…’ He stood up from the bench, too, taking a step towards her, but she pretended not to notice and started walking back to the gallery. He fell into step beside her, the distance between them feeling more like a chasm than the metre it was. ‘I haven’t done a great job of explaining myself tonight. I can’t get involved precisely because I can feel the pull between us. I don’t think the timing is right for you either. It doesn’t sound logical, but that’s the way it is. I hope it doesn’t affect things between us.’
She stared blankly at him, thinking, What us?
‘We’ll be seeing each other for Charlie’s op on Monday. I don’t want things to be awkward. For any of us.’
Ah, so that’s what he meant. The doctor-patient relationship of us. ‘Like I said,’ she said through gritted teeth, the pain of rejection searing right through her, ‘we’re both mature adults and I’m sure we can put Charlie’s well-being ahead of anything else.’
‘That’s a given.’
Rosie quickened her step and drew ahead of him.
She wasn’t surprised he let her walk away. But she was surprised at how much it hurt.
She drew ahead of Nick and he let her go. It was the right thing to do.
He watched her stride on, her spine stiff and straight, head held high, hair swinging in a golden wave against her back.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and by the time he’d read the text message from James, Rosie had disappeared from view. He wanted desperately to go after her but for what? Chasing her wouldn’t solve anything. He’d made his decision. His career had to come first and he couldn’t afford to take his eye off the ball again if he wanted to achieve his goals. He couldn’t have it all. He’d learnt that lesson once before. He had to let her go.
James was waiting outside the gallery and some of Nick’s black mood settled at the sight of his old friend. Equally tall, James had grown portly where Nick was as lean as in their uni days. Other than that, it could have been any night, years ago in Auckland, and the familiarity was comforting.
‘Mate,’ said James as he slapped Nick on the back, ‘you’ve got a face like thunder.’ He motioned to the gallery behind him. ‘Not coming in?’
‘I’ve seen enough. Of Paulo and Miriam’s art, at any rate.’
‘That bad?’ James slapped him on the back again. ‘I’ve seen
enough too, it’s beer time.’
Ten minutes later they were at a pub on the harbour, nursing a cold pint each, and James had filled Nick in on his latest news.
‘Catch me up on you,’ he said as he finished. ‘How’s the practice going? How’s your vow of celibacy holding up?’
Nick growled at him. ‘There was never any such vow, and you damn well know it. I told you I wasn’t going to get involved, not live like a damn monk, and I haven’t.’
‘All right, take it easy.’ James took a sip of his beer before adding, ‘So, who is she?’
‘Who’s who?’
‘The chick that’s got you all hot and bothered.’
Nick drained the last of his beer and reached for the bowl of chips, grabbing a handful and munching on them, stalling for time before he answered. ‘No one’s got me hot or bothered. I’ve got enough on my plate at the moment. I can’t afford any distractions, especially with what’s happened at work today.’
‘What’s going on? I thought you’d finally done the impossible these last months and got yourself clear of the gallery and marriage debts?’
Nick nodded. ‘Leaving me free to finally start heading in the right direction. I’ve just bought a house here and simultaneously bought into the practice.’
‘Okay, so more debt, but it’s the right sort, it’s building your career and giving you a place to live. Every self-employed man and his dog have that sort of debt.’ James held his beer up to his mate. ‘The healthy sort. So what’s the problem?’
‘One of the partners resigned today, effective immediately, due to ill health. While I understand the situation and he has my sympathy, it means the rest of us have to buy him out. I can’t really afford to do that, I’m stretched to the limit with the house and practice debt as it is. If I’d seen this coming, I wouldn’t have bought the house. It’ll put me back to square one financially. Again.’
He injected the word with all the disappointment he was feeling as he absent-mindedly flicked a chip off the bar table.
‘What you’re telling me is you’re no better off now than when Miriam had finished taking you to the cleaners.’
He shrugged. ‘That’s how I’m feeling. I know it’s a positive thing and necessary to build my practice. But for the first time I was feeling comfortable about the balance, now I’ll have to put even more hours into building my practice if I ever want to repay these loans. The reminder of what happened with Miriam plus the partnership issue has poured cold water over the possibility I might have been tempted to get involved with someone.’
‘So you were thinking about it. Is she hot?’ James held out a hand to stall his friend. ‘And I don’t mean “hot” like Miriam, I mean hot but without the personality of a piranha.’
An image of Rosie’s oval face, the bridge of her nose dusted with light freckles, her green eyes sparkling when she laughed, floated into his mind. ‘She’s complicated.’
‘The two of you sound like a match made in heaven. What is it? She married?’
Nick shook his head.
‘Divorced?’
Another shake. ‘She’s the guardian of one of my patients.’
James nodded his head. ‘Ah, that sort of complicated. The sort with a kid.’
‘Plural.’
‘More than one? And you’re still keen? Man, this I have to see.’
Nick grabbed another handful of chips and munched his way stonily through his mouthful while James sat chuckling at his expense, apparently enjoying the idea of his predicament immensely.
Nick swallowed. ‘Now I know why I don’t miss you in all the months between trips.’ He met James’s eyes, giving in to his urge to laugh in return. ‘You’re the same pain in the nether regions you always were.’
‘And you, my friend…’ James lifted his half-empty glass in mock salute ‘…are in over your head. Here’s to the breaking of quite a few vows between now and my next visit.’ He gave an exaggerated wink. ‘Feel free to text me the details.’
Nick fixed him with a stare. ‘There’ll be no texting and there’ll be no breaking of vows of any sort, even non-existent ones.’
But as they sat and chatted over the next couple of hours, Nick knew the only thing he was certain of was who he’d be dreaming about in the coming nights: the girl with the long limbs and golden hair. The girl who was part of a complicated package that, whichever way he looked at it, didn’t gel with the unstable state of his own life.
He couldn’t have her and remain in control, keep his life heading in a steady direction.
He couldn’t have her and not get involved.
But what would not having her mean?
‘Charlie, please leave that, we’re going to be late.’ Rosie pressed her car remote, slung her bag over one shoulder and glanced at her watch. ‘In fact, we already are, so please come on.’
Charlie turned reproachful eyes up to his crabby aunt from his position crouched next to the car on the ground. He was slowly gathering up the pieces of the intricate Lego model he’d worked on for hours the previous night, and which had slid out of his hands and broken apart as he’d got out of the car.
Rosie, regretting her outburst, stooped down to help him. ‘Here, let’s pop all the bits in my bag and you can put it together again inside. We’ll probably have to wait anyway.’ The many bits of plastic now dumped into her bag, she clutched her nephew’s hand and they walked quickly to the entrance of the Bondi Paediatric Medical Centre for their appointment with the anaesthetist. She’d just keep her fingers crossed they didn’t see Nick while they were in there.
The thought of running into Nick today had kept Rosie awake for the best part of the night. The same thought was behind her impatience with Charlie, which was unfair and made her feel worse than she did already. She’d felt lousy ever since Tuesday night. It was now Thursday, so she just had to get through today, the op and then the follow-up appointment and hopefully she wouldn’t have reason to take Charlie back to Nick for a very, very long time.
Never?
Murphy’s law was alive and well and they were late for the appointment but they were ushered into Dr Faulding’s room for the pre-op visit without sighting Nick. They were in and out in less than ten minutes. It was looking good for getting out of there without bumping into Nick.
She steered Charlie back to the waiting room to pre-pay the anaesthetist’s theatre fee.
‘Why don’t you sit down at that little table over there…’ she waved to a low table in the corner of the waiting room ‘…while I fix up these accounts? See if you can put some of your Lego back together. Okay?’
Charlie nodded enthusiastically and hightailed it for the table, apparently stunned that his aunt was letting him delay his return to school. Rosie handed over her credit card and the various accounts for Charlie’s op to the receptionist, watching Charlie absorbed in his work while she waited.
She signed for her bills, wondering if she’d hidden her mood successfully from the twins these last couple of days. With the exception of snapping at Charlie shortly before, she hadn’t done a bad job of concealing her distress over Nick.
‘Rosie.’ She didn’t need to turn around this time, she knew that voice. It was the source of her distress, which was why she stalled, folding the receipts and tucking them inside her bag before she turned to face Nick.
And the moment she did, she wished she hadn’t. Anger was no match for eyes like his. Anger had no weapons to do battle with her physical reaction to him.
Their eye contact was brief. She looked away, uncomfortable. Spotting Charlie with his Lego, Nick gave a small smile. There wasn’t a hint of his amazing grin that always rocked her to her core. Was he hurting too?
‘I was hoping to catch you. Have you got a minute?’
Had he been waiting for them? She hesitated; she’d told Charlie he could work on his Lego, so she couldn’t drag him out of here now without making a scene. She nodded.
‘Can we go to my office?’
�
�Charlie, do you want to come with me while I talk to Nick or stay here and build?’ Charlie pointed to his blocks. ‘Okay, I won’t be long.’
Nick led the way down the corridor. ‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you but not over the phone.’
Rosie held up her hand to stop him. She couldn’t stand the thought he might be about to repeat his words from Tuesday. One night of rejection was more than enough. ‘There’s no need.’
‘There is.’ He took her by the arm, his touch gentle, and steered her to a chair while he chose to perch on the edge of the desk, facing her. ‘I think we left things on a bad note. I know it sounded like I was rejecting you but I was trying to explain why I couldn’t get involved. I’d still like us to be friends.’
She was tired. Tired of beating around the bush, tired of pretending she wanted to be friends. Fatigue made her more forthright than she would normally have been. ‘You want to ignore the pink elephant named desire?’
‘Something along those lines.’
‘We’d be kidding ourselves,’ she stated bluntly.
‘We’re two mature adults, we’re both kind of new in town and I wasn’t kidding when I said I could use a friend.’
Could she do it? Could she continue to see him, knowing she could only have part of him?
Before she could make a decision there was a hesitant knock on the door and it opened to reveal Charlie. He held the completed model in his hands.
She was glad of the diversion. ‘Hi, there, are you finished?’
He nodded as he crossed the room, handing Rosie the model as he leant in close to whisper in her ear, ‘Is Nick going to play cricket with me again?’
Rosie looked up open-mouthed, stunned Charlie had spoken to her in front of Nick, albeit in a whisper. Nick’s grin and nod told her he recognised the significance of the moment. Charlie went on, ‘Can you ask him?’
The little boy tugged at her sleeve again to spur her into action. ‘Ah, Nick…’ Rosie gathered her thoughts, ignoring Nick’s earlier question and focusing on her nephew. ‘Charlie would like to know if you can have another game of cricket one day.’
Italian Doctor, Dream Proposal / Wanted: A Father for her Twins Page 27
