by Emily Forbes
He frowned. ‘Why? What’s the matter with her?’
‘She’s eight months pregnant. Eight months!’ Charli’s eyebrows arched wildly. ‘Can you believe it?’ She didn’t wait for his response, which was just as well as he really had no opinion to offer. ‘She’s pregnant and this is the first I’ve heard of it.’
‘Why are you so upset?’
Charli gave a heavy, exasperated sigh. ‘I don’t understand my father at all. He married someone almost half his age and sent Amy and me to boarding school. He couldn’t wait to get rid of us and now he’s starting all over again. Victoria didn’t want children and now suddenly she’s pregnant at the age of thirty-nine. It’s crazy.’
‘Maybe this is a good thing.’
She looked at him like he’d gone mad. She wasn’t upset, he realised. She was angry. ‘How can this be a good thing?’
He knew she was struggling emotionally after the landslide. It wasn’t an unusual response after a traumatic experience, but maybe this would give her something to look forward to. A baby was the perfect distraction. He knew that from his own experience. ‘A new life brings hope. This baby will be a half-sibling. This baby will be family.’
‘One who is twenty-six years younger than me!’ she countered. ‘That’s not a sibling. That poor child, having to be a part of our family, having Victoria and my father as parents. It’ll probably be shunted off to boarding school too at the earliest opportunity, unwanted and unloved.’
‘Are you sure you’re not being a bit harsh?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You don’t know my father.’
Pat thought about the man he’d seen leaving Charli’s room just minutes ago and the sadness he’d seen in his eyes. ‘Don’t you think he might love you the best way he knows how? He’s flown halfway across the world to see you.’
‘And he can’t wait to get home again. He’s already told me he doesn’t want to leave Victoria alone for too long.’
‘Things are rarely that black and white.’
‘Oh, I think they are. I have spent years trying to figure out why I don’t have a relationship with my father but I’ve got nowhere. I have loved my medical training and I can’t wait to start the next stage towards becoming a GP, but one of the reasons I chose medicine was because I thought it might make my father proud of me. I thought it might make him take an interest in me but nothing changed.
‘I know it was easy for Amy and me to blame our stepmother’s influence but even if it was her decision to send us away, I can’t really believe that my father, an intelligent, accomplished man, would have followed her lead if he didn’t agree with her. At the end of the day he paid for our education but didn’t put much time or effort into maintaining or even establishing a relationship with either of us. Even now, all he can think about is getting back home. He’s not thinking about me or Amy, it’s all about him and Victoria.’
‘But he’s here now. Doesn’t that count for something?’
Charli was shaking her head. ‘He’s never around when I need him and so I’ve learnt not to need him, and I definitely don’t need him now.’
Pat knew he wouldn’t win any arguments with Charli about her family. He didn’t know her father—he could have been imagining what he’d seen in his expression, in his eyes. He could have been projecting what his feelings as a father would be if Ella was lying in hospital. He knew he would be heartbroken, but he had to take Charli’s word for her father’s actions and feelings. At least for now.
He nodded and decided to change the subject. He opened the bag he’d brought with him, pulling out various bits of electronic equipment. ‘I brought you my laptop. If I set you up a profile and a password, can you access your emails remotely?’
He saw her take a deep breath to regain her composure before saying, ‘Yes, thank you.’
‘I’m working night shift but I’ll leave it with you.’
He flipped the laptop open and fired it up. His screensaver appeared. He was so used to it that he didn’t give it a second thought until Charli said, ‘Is that your family?’
The photo was one of him with Margie and Ella. He had taken a photo of the three of them in bed on Christmas morning. It had been their first Christmas as a family. Ella had only been eight months old, too young to understand Christmas, but he and Margie had been very excited about the next stage of their life together as a family, celebrating all these milestones with their daughter and anticipating the future. They’d been happy. Really happy.
Of course, they hadn’t known then it would be their only Christmas as a family.
‘Is that your wife?’ He could hear the puzzlement in Charli’s voice. ‘Aren’t you divorced?’ The puzzlement was now an accusation.
‘No, I’m not divorced.’
‘You said you and your daughter lived in Melbourne. You told me you weren’t married. You invited me for brunch!’
‘I’m not married or divorced,’ he explained. ‘I’m a widower.’
‘Oh, Pat, I’m sorry. I just assumed. You never said...’
Her tone was contrite and perhaps a little guilty.
‘What should I have said?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘When I asked if you were married, why didn’t you tell me then?’
‘I didn’t want to talk about someone who had died. Not in those circumstances.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to bring it up.’
‘It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about her. I need to keep her memory alive for Ella and I’m getting used to being alone.’
‘How long ago did she die?’
‘Two years.’
‘So your daughter would have been very young.’
Pat nodded.
‘That must have been an awful time for you. How are you doing now?’
‘I’m good. We’re good, Ella and I.’
‘Do you want to tell me about her?’
‘About who?’
‘Your wife.’
‘Why?’
She shrugged. ‘I feel like you know everything about me but I know almost nothing about you.’
What did she want to hear? What did she want him to say? He had never had a problem talking about Margie, it had been a way of keeping her memory alive, but he’d always talked to people who had known her. Talking to Charli would be different. But she was right, he knew far more about her and he didn’t want Margie to come between them and whatever this connection was. Wherever this was going. And he was definite that he wanted this to go somewhere. He’d known his past and his future would collide at some point and it looked like today was the day. He took a deep breath and said, ‘What do you want to know?’
‘How long were you married?’
‘Three years.’
‘That’s not long.’
‘No, it wasn’t nearly long enough.’
‘Where did you meet?’
‘In the UK.’
‘She was English?’
‘No. Her grandfather was but Margie was Australian. She was a nurse, from Melbourne. I was on a working visa as a paramedic and she was an ED nurse in one of the large hospitals. We travelled half way around the world to fall in love with someone from home. We used to laugh about that.’
‘What happened to her? Was she sick?’
‘No. She was perfectly healthy. She was in an accident.’ He sighed. Her death had been so senseless, so unnecessary and such a shock, which had made it hard to comprehend and even harder to accept. ‘Ella had just turned one and Margie had not long returned to work. She was on a late. Her shifts had to work around my roster but that was okay—we were used to the shift work and it meant someone was always there for Ella. She was in her car, stopped at traffic lights. The lights turned green but as she went through the intersection some kids in a st
olen car ran the red light and crashed into her. She died at the scene.’
‘Oh, Pat. That’s so sudden. It must have been such a shock.’
He nodded. ‘Margie always used to worry about my job and the associated risks. We always thought there was more of a chance of something happening to me because of the job I did, but it turned out it wasn’t my job we needed to concern ourselves about. It turned out that no one is safe. I should have known that better than anyone. Margie was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I struggled for a long time with guilt. I save lives for a living but I couldn’t save Margie.’
‘But you’re doing okay now?’
‘Yes.’
‘How long did that take?’
‘A long time,’ he admitted. ‘Gradually I have made memories that don’t involve her, which is painful at times, but slowly those new memories dull the loss and it becomes easier to cope with. Now there are things I can think about that don’t automatically make me think about her too. I had to go on because of Ella but I’ve only recently got to a place where I’m looking forward to the future, where I can imagine a different future, one without Margie in it.’
‘Have you dated since Margie died?’
‘Not seriously.’
‘Why not?’
‘Lots of reasons.’ Initially he’d felt he was betraying Margie’s memory and as the dates had been casual he’d preferred to sacrifice the date rather than his late wife’s memory. That had changed with meeting Charli but he wasn’t sure how to phrase that without sounding like he was trying out a line. ‘I haven’t met anyone I really wanted to date or who I was prepared to introduce to Ella. She’s already lost one mother, I need to think carefully about how my actions will impact on her if things don’t work out. Ella and I are okay as a unit of two.’
‘I bet she was a good mother.’
‘She was a fabulous mother. We were so excited when we found out she was pregnant. It’s tough being a single parent but having Ella was the thing that really pulled me through after Margie died. I had to keep going, for her.’
‘How do you manage? It can’t be easy, especially not with shift work.’
‘I have a lot of help. My parents and my in-laws live close by and Ella also goes to child care when I work. Speaking of which, I really have to get to work.’ He hoped what he’d told her would be enough to satisfy her for now. He set up a password for her on his laptop and headed off, resisting the urge to kiss her again.
* * *
‘You did well. How’re you feeling?’ Harriet said as she accompanied Charli back to her bed after her physiotherapy session.
Charli’s feet were still heavily bandaged but Harriet had given her a pair of shoes made from pieces of foam and rubber, which cushioned her feet, and she was able now to stand with a walking frame and get herself to the bathroom. Her gait was still slow and she couldn’t be upright for too long as her feet remained painful, but it was a nice change to be able to stand, even briefly.
‘You might be able to get out of here in another couple of days, once I can get you on crutches,’ the physio said. ‘I’ll bring you a pair tomorrow and you can try walking with them. Once you can manage stairs, you’ll be able to be discharged.’
‘When do you think I’ll be able to fly?’
‘Not for a little while yet. Your feet are still too swollen, and the risk of clots is too high. Why do you ask?’
‘I haven’t got anywhere to go once I’m discharged. I need to think about flying home.’
‘Where is Amy staying?’
‘She has to go back to Wombat Gully tomorrow. It’s the start of the school holidays and they need her for ski school.’ Charli shrugged. ‘I guess I’ll have to stay with my father in the hotel.’ That wouldn’t be ideal as she and her father didn’t have the easiest of relationships, but she didn’t have another choice.
‘I thought you said he wanted to go home soon?’ Harriet queried, raising another obstacle. ‘What if he leaves before you’re ready to fly? Why don’t you stay with your cute paramedic?’
‘Patrick? He’s not my paramedic.’
‘What do you mean?’ Harriet said. ‘I thought you were an item. Are you just friends?’
Charli didn’t know how to describe their relationship. She had spent quite a bit of time with Harriet over the past few days. The nurses bustled in and out, too busy to talk, but the physiotherapist had become something of a confidante to her, though they hadn’t discussed Pat. ‘I’m not sure what we are. I think he feels a sense of duty to me. He was the one who pulled me from the building.’
‘I don’t think he’s here out of duty,’ Harriet said. ‘Have you seen the way he looks at you? I swear he wants to sweep you off your feet and take you away from here. He’s your knight in shining armour. If he had a horse I could just imagine him riding in here on his noble steed.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve always wanted one of them.’
‘A noble steed?’ Charli smiled.
‘A hero!’
‘You’ve been watching too many movies.’
‘No,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Reading too many books probably.’
Charli shook her head. ‘I couldn’t impose on Patrick like that.’ She’d had the same fantasy of Pat as her real-life hero—he had rescued her after all—but that didn’t mean he was about to sweep her off her feet and run away with her, and she didn’t feel she could ask him to. She had no idea if they had that sort of relationship and listening to how he’d spoken about his late wife and daughter, Charli wasn’t sure that he saw any sort of romantic relationship in his immediate future. She didn’t want to put him in a difficult position, she was pretty sure that if she was brave enough to ask, the answer would be no. ‘I’ll discuss it with my father. He’s meeting Amy and me here to take us to lunch.’
Just the mention of lunch with her father was enough to make her feel nervous. He’d suggested lunch and they were only going to the street-level coffee shop at the front of the hospital, but Charli suspected there was something her father wanted to discuss. She couldn’t imagine him arranging lunch with his daughters for no reason.
‘Let’s get you changed.’ Harriet grabbed a suit bag that she had hung behind the door when she’d arrived for the physio session. She’d offered to lend Charli a dress for lunch as the two of them were a similar size and Charli had absolutely nothing to wear. She could hardly go to the coffee shop in a hospital gown. She’d ordered some clothes online, using Pat’s laptop and Amy’s credit card, but, as yet, nothing had been delivered. It had been a surreal experience to be lying in a hospital bed, doing online shopping.
Harriet unzipped the bag and pulled out some new underwear, a navy wrap dress in a stretchy cotton and a white shirt and simple black jeans. She held them up. ‘Will one of these do?’
‘The dress,’ Charli said. She would need to wear the shoes that Harriet had made for her and thought they might look less ridiculous with the dress, although anything was going to be better than the hospital gowns she had spent the past few days wearing. ‘Thank you so much, Harriet.’
‘Do you need a hand to get changed or can you manage?’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘All right, I’ll guard the door for you and then fetch a wheelchair to take you down to the coffee shop.’
As the door closed behind Harriet, Charli stripped off the hospital gown and left it on the end of the bed. She tossed the uncomfortable and unflattering disposable undies into the bin and replaced them with the pair Harriet had given her. She wrapped the dress around herself, pulling the ties tight. It was a little loose on her—she’d lost weight over the past week—but it would do. She brushed her hair and tied it back into a ponytail. She couldn’t do anything about her make-up, but it wasn’t an occasion that warranted any.
There was a knock on her door. ‘I’m decent,’ she called.
‘That’s th
e worst news I’ve heard all morning. Should I come back when you’re indecent?’
She had assumed it was Harriet knocking but the door had opened to reveal Pat.
He was grinning at her and her heart flipped in her chest as Harriet’s words rang in her ears. Did he have feelings for her?
The idea thrilled her and terrified her at the same time but she couldn’t deny she was attracted to him. Who could blame her? He was gorgeous. He wore a pair of bone-coloured cotton trousers and a grey shirt that highlighted his olive complexion and hugged his chest. It was the first time she’d seen him out of uniform and, incredibly, he looked even more amazing.
She smiled, unable to pretend she wasn’t excited to see him.
‘You look good. Are you going somewhere?’ he asked as Harriet appeared with a wheelchair and Charli tried to ignore the knowing smirk on the physio’s face.
‘Amy and I are having lunch with my father.’
He looked a little crestfallen and she wondered if he’d had other plans. For the first time he looked as if he wasn’t going to work or rushing off to pick up Ella. Not that she minded, she knew his daughter came first and she couldn’t begrudge that, not when it was exactly how she wished her own father had prioritised things. Ella was lucky to have Pat for a father, she thought, not for the first time.
‘Let me help you into this chair,’ he said as he slid his hands under her thighs and scooped her off the bed. Her arms automatically wound around his neck as he held her close. She breathed in, inhaling the scent of freshly washed skin and soap.
‘You do know the hospital has a no-lift policy,’ Harriet told him as he set Charli down in the wheelchair and she reluctantly unwound her arms from his neck.
‘Good thing I’m not employed by the hospital then, isn’t it?’ Pat laughed as he spun the chair around to face the door.
Charli was still smiling when her father walked into the room.
‘Charlotte! I thought I was meeting you here?’ He looked from Charli to Pat.
‘Mr Lawson.’ Patrick spoke before Charli had a chance to and extended his hand. ‘I’m Patrick Reeves.’