The Practice Baby

by LM Ardor

  It was 11 am. Dee was thirty-five minutes behind. Joan was eighty and had another urinary tract infection. UTIs were a bonus in Dee’s day: the toy car in the cereal box, the raisin in the rock cake of appointments. While Joan hobbled to the toilet to provide her specimen, Dee had a minute to check her messages.

  The three messages winking urgent were all from Janelle. ‘Please do you have an address for Leah Dragic?’

  Dee went into the file room behind reception and called quietly to Janelle—better not to let the three patients who were waiting get their hopes up.

  ‘What’s this about?’

  ‘We don’t seem to have a Leah Dragic.’

  ‘No, she’s the girlfriend of Tom who died. She has her own naturopathic doctor.’

  ‘GenSafe IVF have rung three times to get her address. Their practice manager demanded to speak to someone in authority.’

  Joan came to the door holding a specimen jar wrapped in half a roll of toilet paper. Dee held open a clip-lock bag for her to put it in. Let the lab deal with the urine-soaked paper.

  ‘Ring and tell them we don’t have it. She was never a patient. And buzz the practice manager through to me if she’s rude again.’

  *

  An hour later Dee had caught up a little when Janelle buzzed her. ‘Professor Fairborn, he says it’s urgent.’

  Dee remembered how pompous Adam had been at the medical meeting. He suggested Tom and Leah might want donor sperm because Tom was odd and accused Dee of having ‘ideals’ as though it were an insult.

  ‘I’ll be five minutes if he wants to wait, otherwise get a number where I can reach him around seven.’

  Dee finished with Khin Ho, a diabetic who regularly skipped his medications because they were ‘too expensive’. His uncontrolled blood pressure had caused a stroke and he’d lost his job. Money was now even more tight. She repeated her spiel about how important it was to take his blood pressure and diabetes tablets otherwise a worse stroke was inevitable. Why he came to see her at all or why he bothered to get new scripts that he didn’t fill remained a mystery. She gave him forms for blood tests and scripts and picked up the still buzzing line.

  ‘Adam, what can I do for you?’

  ‘Thanks, Dee. I’m afraid we haven’t been able to contact your patient, Leah Dragic—you heard, didn’t you, about the young lad’s tragic death?’

  His concern sounded fake. She wanted to yell at him to stop but she bit her tongue and said, ‘Yes, a tragedy; but don’t you have the details? She was never on the books here.’

  ‘Ah, well, she’s not at the partner’s address. We need to get in touch with his next of kin to get disposal instructions for his contributions. We do like to inform people before disposal—especially in such a tragic situation. They did seem to be in love, didn’t they?’

  Dee was surprised by the idea of Leah as next of kin. It was a grey area but she and Tom had been partners, planned a child together. Contributions must mean sperm samples. She remembered how Tom was upset about the one-size-fits-all approach at the clinic where samples were required at the first visit.

  Adam’s words about love placated her. Maybe he did have some sensitivity. She was probably a harsh judge when it came to old boyfriends who had dumped her. She relented.

  ‘Adam, sorry. I don’t have anything but she’s got an appointment with me coming up.’

  Dee had been surprised to see the name on her appointment list. She did a quick search for the time.

  ‘Yes, tomorrow at two—we’ll get her details and let you know then. Also, can you have a word with your practice manager. She was inappropriately pushy with our receptionist.’

  ‘Of course, that’s not acceptable. I’ll get on to it. Thanks so much, Dee—it’s been too long—we must catch up.’

  ‘Umm, yes.’ His insincerity was an insult. How could he think she would be kept sweet by a promise of further contact with him?

  ‘I’ll ring you on Friday,’ Adam finished.

  Dee hung up. Feeling somehow used.

  It was the feeling she remembered from the early months after their breakup. It was her first sexual relationship. When their lovemaking didn’t make the stars sing the naïve eighteen-year-old she had been thought it was her fault; that she must be frigid. Now she understood, her part in their coupledom was as an aide in Adam’s relationship with himself.

  All the drawbacks of aging—the loss of physical beauty, the indignity of physical impairments—were worth it, she thought, chiefly because the cringing embarrassments of youth were over. But thinking of her breakup with Adam could still make a cringe creep through her. How desperate had she been to believe her relationship with Adam had any connection to love?

  For years after their breakup she’d dyed the white streak in her hair—until Rob.

  Rob, another driven high-achiever, loved her hair. He convinced her to let the white streak grow out again. It was probably why she’d chosen him to marry. She thought about their wedding photo. He was stylish in architect black and she in a slinky deep green that reflected off her eyes and showed off her breasts. Her mother cried and revealed a romantic side that was usually locked away, with her gift of the bouquet: tuber roses for their divine smell, peonies, and marigolds; ivory and deep orangey reds. She and Rob looked hot, were hot, even after the kids and after she’d thickened into middle age. They were still hot, if not as often, not as consistently, until his mid-life crisis and the affair with his student, now wife.

  Adam was an aberration. His brilliance, the rigor he brought to any scientific enquiry, meant he would be at the forefront of scientific discoveries. Sharing that part of his life was stimulating; it gave her a glimpse of a world beyond. But she was grateful she could put down the phone on that part of her life.

  13.

  ‘That Leah is very popular,’ Janelle said as she handed Dee a mid-afternoon coffee.

  Dee beckoned Janelle into the staff room to find out more.

  ‘I’ve had three more people asking about her. I put messages on the computer for you about all of them.’

  ‘Have you got a minute to tell me now?’

  ‘Well, first there was GenSafe, you know about that.’

  Dee nodded, trying not to show her impatience. ‘Tell me about the others.’

  ‘Some insurance company wanted Leah’s address, then the detective from yesterday, then Skye. I told them all I’d have to check it out with you before I gave out any information. Is that okay?’

  ‘Yes, that’s good.’ Dee paused to think. ‘And all of them wanted her address?’

  Janelle nodded.

  ‘So Skye didn’t know it either?’

  ‘Well, it was Glen, her boyfriend. He said he was ringing for Skye but she was too upset to talk so to ring him on his mobile.’

  ‘Did he say why he wanted to know?’

  ‘No, but the others said it was about a life insurance policy.’

  ‘Thanks, I won’t have a chance to ring anyone before tonight. Unless there’s a cancellation.’

  ‘Not likely. I’ll let you know.’

  Dee gulped her not-quite-scalding coffee. There wasn’t time to think it all through. She would find out more when she rang everyone back.

  *

  Dee let out her last patient only forty-five minutes late. She was exhausted. Grief lurked at the edges of her consciousness. She wanted to be home.

  Tania, the part-time receptionist, buzzed to say there was a detective on the phone. Dee was about to snap at her but it was easier to take the call than to re-explain the protocol about calls. Janelle could deal with Tania tomorrow. Dee didn’t trust herself to do it calmly.

  ‘Constable Mason, I understand you’re after Leah Dragic’s address?’

  ‘No, we have it now, thanks, but the girl hasn’t been seen there since Monday. I wondered if you might have any idea of where she is?’

  ‘This is the fourth time someone’s asked after her today. What’s so desperate?’

  ‘I can�
�t give details …’ Craig started with the usual palaver about confidentiality.

  ‘Look, my information is confidential too. It would probably help if we shared what we know and I’d feel happier about revealing confidential medical information if you tell me why it matters that you know.’

  Craig sighed. ‘Okay, the life insurance company have Leah Dragic as co-beneficiary of the $500,000 policy but they can’t find her.’

  Dee cut in. ‘And the other beneficiary is Tom’s brother Charlie?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘So why the urgency?’

  ‘In a case like this all the beneficiaries need to be looked at.’

  The idea of Leah being involved in Tom’s death seemed ridiculous but it was proper procedure to check everyone.

  ‘And of course, if the death wasn’t natural causes then Ms Dragic could be in danger too.’

  ‘Why?’ Dee wondered what they had found out about Tom’s hacking.

  ‘There’s a thirty-day rule with insurance. If a beneficiary dies within thirty days of the benefactor then they are disqualified.’

  ‘So Charlie would get all of the money?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  Dee kept quiet. There must be more. She hoped Craig would fill the silence with the details.

  ‘The mother’s partner has a record for minor drug offences and one episode of violence so we just want to be sure.’

  ‘Does he have an alibi for Tom’s death?’

  ‘Only from Skye Harris, who also benefits from the insurance.’

  ‘Tom’s mother loved him, she’s devastated by his death.’

  ‘Even so, she could easily have been asleep and not known where Glen was in the middle of the night. Was she on sleeping pills?’

  ‘Nothing prescribed by me.’

  ‘So?’ Craig asked.

  ‘Sorry, so?’ Dee was distracted by the realisation that if someone had harmed Tom then they could still be dangerous to Leah.

  ‘So can you tell me what you know about the girlfriend?’

  ‘Yes, sure—Leah has an appointment here tomorrow afternoon. I don’t have any contact details but I can ask her what’s happening then. She’s not likely to want to talk to the police though.’

  ‘It’s not a matter of if she wants to talk to us. We want to talk to her. Perhaps she’d be more willing to help if you let her know she might be in danger …’ Craig trailed off.

  ‘Yes, I will, of course. I’ll let you know what she says. Would the police offer her protection?’

  ‘I’m not sure we’d have the resources for that. If she finds somewhere secure, doesn’t stay on her own, she should be okay. There’s probably no real danger but we have to go through the motions, wouldn’t want to be seen to have done nothing if something happened to her.’

  Dee sighed and bit down on her lower lip; too annoyed to respond.

  ‘If, as is likely, the autopsy shows it’s asthma then she’s all okay,’ Craig said.

  ‘Let me know if there are more developments,’ Dee said to get him off the line. It would be pointless to explain yet again why Tom didn’t die from asthma.

  Craig started to speak.

  ‘Thanks, goodbye.’ She hung up.

  Leah wasn’t going to get protection from the police. Dee was comforted by the thought that if they and the insurance company couldn’t find her maybe no one else could either.

  There were still Glen and the insurance company’s calls to deal with. Dee looked at her handbag and at the back door. She knew the insurance company needed to send a written request for information with a consent form. Janelle could sort that out tomorrow. Glen she could ring from home but it was better to do it here, keep the whole issue here, not let it invade the safe, comforting space where the children and her real life existed.

  She found his mobile number. There wasn’t any good reason for Glen or Skye to want to be in touch with Leah. They hadn’t even acknowledged her at the flat. Dee had the impression that they preferred to ignore her part in Tom’s life. Perhaps Skye had decided to be kind; to involve the girl in funeral arrangements. Maybe she wanted to be with someone who had known Tom, to have a part of his life back.

  ‘Hi Glen, it’s Doctor Dee. You rang before.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, thanks, Doc,’ Glen whispered. There was the sound of a door opening and closing, of footsteps on stairs. ‘Sorry, I don’t want to disturb Skye. That’s better.’ His voice was at normal volume now. ‘I wondered if you know where Leah’s got to?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t. What’s up?’

  ‘Skye wanted to talk to her about Tom, I guess. I’m not sure why.’

  ‘So Skye’s not too upset about the insurance?’ Dee left it vague to find out what he knew.

  ‘Sorry, umm, the insurance? I don’t know much about it. I think Skye wants to be in touch with Leah, that’s all.’

  Glen sounded shifty, evasive. He knew about the insurance policy but wasn’t keen to give anything away, Dee thought. Tom had been uneasy about Glen. Dee found she had the same reaction. At least he didn’t know Leah was coming in to see her. Even Dee hadn’t expected the girl to want to see her. She would tell Leah. The girl could choose for herself whether or not to get in touch.

  14.

  Leah was booked for the first appointment after lunch. She didn’t arrive.

  Dee had been more surprised when she’d first seen the appointment than she was when Leah didn’t show. The girl was not a fan of conventional medicine. It must be a terrible time for her. Dee wanted to check how she was going when they were at the flat but Leah had vanished before there was a chance to talk.

  There was no address, no other contact details in the file. Adam, Craig and Glen would all be back on the phone for information she didn’t have.

  Skye might know something more. The thought of facing the anger Skye was using as a stand-in for grief was too much and it seemed unlikely that Skye would be willing to speak to Dee anyway. Perhaps if Janelle rang her? Then Dee wouldn’t have to talk to Glen either.

  Mid-afternoon, Janelle’s message flashed up on Dee’s screen.

  ‘Skye doesn’t know where Leah is. Apparently she’s moved out of the share house she used to be in. I got the impression Skye didn’t want anything to do with Leah. The insurance people told Skye that Leah was a co-beneficiary when they came around looking for her. Skye sounds very angry—with everyone.’

  Especially me, Dee guessed.

  *

  At 7.15 pm Dee slid behind the wheel of her car and put the key into the ignition. She didn’t start the engine. The car space was enclosed by metal grilles on both sides and the adjacent spaces were stacked floor to ceiling with boxes and furniture. Yellow biohazard disposal bins lurked in the space’s deeper reaches. It was the meanest and darkest space in the large underground lot.

  She loved the electronic impregnability of the ugly metal and concrete. Her body relaxed into the car seat, muscles limp; she melted into the blessed dimness. A liminal place to shake off all the emotions that bled onto her from patients in distress, a space to leave behind patients’ emotions so she was ready to go home to those of her family.

  She stretched her neck and shoulders like a cat, rubbed them against the smooth leather of the seat. This time without obligation to the needs of others was the purest luxury in her life.

  A scratchy, scrabbling noise came from the front of the car. Dee opened her eyes and sat up straight. There was nothing for a moment. Maybe she had nodded off and imagined it. Nothing could be here in the car space. Then—scratch, scratch—she heard it again. Her muscles jolted, instantly tense, ready for action. Don’t panic. It must be an animal; maybe a stray cat or rats trying to get to the waste. One of the waste bins on the passenger side of the car moved fractionally. Dee turned on the car headlights. The bin jiggled and moved a few inches. Too big for a rat, a cat must be nesting down here.

  The passenger-side door opened. The interior light of the car came on above her head. Dee to
ok a gasping breath, her heart banged against the inside of her chest. She was alert. Then nothing happened, the door was open an inch or so. Her mind raced through possible explanations—there weren’t any. The door creaked open a fraction more and Dee grabbed her handbag as a shield or a weapon.

  ‘Turn the lights off,’ a female voice said from outside the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ Dee tried to sound fierce.

  ‘Turn off the light,’ the voice was an urgent whisper. ‘It’s Leah.’

  Dee put down the handbag and pressed the switch to turn off the internal light. The door opened further and Leah slipped into the seat beside her. Even in the dim light from outside, Dee saw the girl was pale, trembling, terrified.

  ‘Turn off the lights, quick,’ Leah said as she slid down below the level of the windows. ‘Can we go somewhere else?’

  Dee turned off the headlights and everything went red like a scene from a horror movie.

  ‘Let go of the brake too,’ Leah half shouted, half whispered.

  Dee realised she had her foot hard on the brake. She moved it and they were in darkness.

  ‘Leah, what’s wrong, are you sick? Tell me what’s going on.’ Dee was sweaty and her heart thumped.

  ‘Please, I want to tell you but can we get away from here first?’

  Dee started the car. Leah curled herself into a ball and slid down into the footwell of the passenger seat.

  Dee drove to Pyrmont Park, a narrow strip of land along the harbour with a few car spaces on the road and a cliff behind. One other car was already there but the rest of the spaces were empty. She eased the car into a space shadowed by two large date palms.

  Dee reached out to put her hand on Leah’s arm but the girl was so tense she thought better of it.