The Elusive Consultant

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The Elusive Consultant Page 8

by Carol Marinelli


  ‘So you were able to deal with Matthew efficiently?’

  ‘I believe so,’ Tessa answered quietly, and though it was the truth, though she knew nothing different could have been done, there was something else she needed to say. Leaning forward slightly, she looked at the coroner. ‘However...’ Her voice shook. This wasn’t something she had prepared in her endless rounds of talks with the hospital’s solicitor. ‘As efficiently as I feel we dealt with Matthew, I don’t believe his parents were afforded the level of care they deserved. As I said, we were exceptionally busy that night. I wish I could have spent more time with them, been able to impart how sorry we were.’

  Her eyes flicked to the couple who nodded briefly back at her. Though she had dreaded this day, wished with all her heart that it wouldn’t happen, finally she realised its importance, the need for some form of closure, a chance for introspection and hopefully somewhere along the way acceptance. Tessa was eternally grateful that she had had her say, conveyed to the Bentons her sorrow for their pain.

  ‘Thank you, Sister.’

  And then it was over.

  For Tessa at least.

  The policeman who spoke next looked younger than her, and Tessa realised was just as nervous, his voice unsteady.

  It affects us all, Tessa thought with a start.

  The firefighters, the paramedics, the police officers, the doctors—even Fred with his endless nonchalance had been hesitant when he’d spoken, his voice breaking for a tiny second as he’d met the parents’ eyes.

  Life was precious and they all fought in their own small way to guard it.

  Max held her hand as the coroner summed up his findings and Tessa, who usually cried at the drop of a hat, determinedly held the tears back. This day was for Matthew, for his parents. So she listened as he spoke of the tragic end to Matthew’s life, his comments directed compassionately at the parents, no blame being apportioned for there was none. It had been, as the coroner said, a tragic accident.

  * * *

  ‘Feel better?’

  The hand that had held hers in court was still there, and Tessa gripped it tightly as she stepped out into the late afternoon sun.

  ‘I think so,’ she admitted. ‘I was expecting objections and cross-examinations, and for everything I said to be jumped on and dissected, but in the end I hardly said anything...’

  ‘You said the one thing that mattered.’ She was facing Max now listening as his insight yet again floored her. ‘That’s what you’ve been beating yourself up about, isn’t it? The fact you didn’t have the time to spend with Matthew’s parents.’

  Tessa nodded. ‘It’s an important part of nursing. Matthew’s care shouldn’t have stopped just because he died.’

  ‘I know you, Tessa, and I bet you weren’t sitting in the coffee-room, having a break, were you?’

  She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but Max got there first.

  ‘And I’d lay my last dollar on the fact that the time you did manage to spend with his parents, however short, however fleeting, was compassionate and professional.’

  She nodded almost reluctantly.

  ‘It’s over,’ Max said softly.

  ‘For us maybe,’ Tessa sighed, tears filling in her eyes as she watched Matthew’s parents come out of the courtroom, Mr Benton’s arm wrapped protectively around his wife who clung to her husband’s arm like she was drowning. ‘But it will never be over for them.’

  ‘You can’t be everywhere, Tessa, you can’t spread yourself that thin, no matter how much you want to.’

  ‘I know that.’ Tessa managed a feeble smile. ‘Thin is something I’ll never be.’

  ‘Come on, I want to show you something.’ Still his hand was there and, walking through the five o’clock crowd, they wandered to the Rialto, Tessa frowning as they pushed the revolving doors and Max bought two tickets.

  ‘Why are you taking me to the observation deck? You know I hate heights.’

  The lift moved fast and suddenly they were on the top of the world, or the top of Melbourne at least. They bypassed the café, Max walking purposefully to the windows. He stood there and she joined him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they stood in mutual silence, gazing down on the streets far below, their eyes slowly following the Yarra River coiling through the city, the MCG, the Tennis Centre all on show.

  ‘You can’t solve all the world’s problems, Tessa,’ Max said finally. ‘It all looks so beautiful yet it’s just an overview. There’s a lot of breaking hearts down there, there are too many Josies and Matthews in the world, too many people swimming against the tide, doing it tough. But from up here you can almost believe life’s easy.’

  I’m going,’ he said after the longest pause, and the tears that had been held back all day started to trickle down Tessa’s cheeks as Max carried on talking. ‘And it sounds so straightforward, so damned easy—a dream job, only a year. I’ve said it so many times I’m almost starting to believe it myself.’

  ‘Almost?’

  He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were staring vacantly at the stunning view but he nodded slightly at her perception. ‘I don’t want to go, Tessa.’

  ‘Then don’t.’ Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, Tessa found her voice.

  ‘It’s not that simple.’ A long ragged sigh dragged out of his lips, his hand ran impatiently through his hair, yet no further explanation came.

  ‘Maybe it is that simple,’ Tessa ventured.

  ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘Then tell me, explain to me why you’re going to the other side of the world when you so clearly don’t want to. You’ve got everything you could need here, Max. A job you adore, a whole community that you’re such a big part of. A fiancée you love.’ She swallowed hard, hating to admit it but knowing it to be true. ‘So if you’re having doubts, if you’ve changed your mind, do something about it. There’s no shame in admitting that you were wrong, that you’ve decided not to go. They’ll withdraw your notice in a flash...’

  ‘It’s too late for that.’

  ‘It isn’t,’ Tessa urged. ‘It’s your life, Max, yours, and you should follow your heart and just do what it is you really want.’

  Was it an opening? Had she deep down instigated what happened next? Tessa truly didn’t know. The one thing she knew for sure as Max turned, as his lips moved towards her, as the line she had so carefully drawn disintegrated into nothing, was that she needed this kiss, wanted Max more than she had ever wanted anything. And as his lips brushed hers, as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her towards him with an urgency that matched her desire, for a second or two nothing else mattered, nothing other than this precious, stolen, beautiful moment, where morality was suspended in the name of passion, where good intentions were waved away in a flash of impulse. And as sweet as it was, as natural as his lips felt on hers, as breathtaking as the passion that bubbled between them was, as his chin grazed her cheeks, as he pressed his body closer with aching clarity, reality invaded, Tessa’s blissfully closed eyes snapping open in horror, the enormity of what had taken place suffocating her.

  Pushing him away, she shook her head blindly. ‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ she gasped. ‘We shouldn’t have done that.’ Blinking back tears, her mind reeled for comfort, for an explanation, for justification, but there was none. Nothing, nothing could justify what had just taken place, what Max had just done.

  What Tessa had so willingly let him do.

  ‘Tessa, please...’

  ‘Please, what?’ Her voice was rising now, angry tears coursing down her cheeks.

  ‘Let me explain.’ He was holding her arm, holding it tightly, his eyes pleading for her to stay, to calm down.

  ‘Explain what? That you didn’t mean for it to happen? That it was an accident, just a kiss? No harm done?’ People were looking now, placing their coffee-cups in their saucers and nudging each other, half embarrassed, half curious, but Tessa couldn’t have cared less.

  ‘I love y
ou Tessa.’

  The world stopped for a moment, quiet and still, as the words that had filled her dreams finally found their place in reality. But her dreams had been sweet and pure, not this soiled, muddied offering. She knew he was lying, using those beautiful words to right their wrong. Maybe that was what fuelled her, made it easy to impart the biggest lie of her life.

  ‘Well, I don’t love you, Max.’ She saw a flash of pain in his eyes but deliberately ignored it. ‘You’re a friend, just a friend, and you took advantage of me being emotional.’

  ‘Tess...’

  ‘Tessa,’ she bit back. ‘It’s Tessa.’ Her eyes were almost jumping out with fury. ‘And you’re way out of line.’

  ‘It’s over between Emily and I.’

  It was a crumb, a tiny crumb of comfort but Tessa was too suspicious and too scared to take it at face value.

  ‘So can I tell the world we’re on, Max? Can I go back to work on Thursday and let them know that we’re together?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Can I at least check the facts with Emily?’ She stood there with a pained dignity as he shook his head.

  ‘Then it’s not over, Max.’

  ‘Why does it all have to be so black and white to you, Tessa? These are emotions we’re dealing with, feelings—can’t you understand it’s not always that simple?’

  ‘It is that simple, Max, at least it is to me.’ Her anger numbed the pain, enough at least for a dignified exit. ‘And I hate you for lying to me.’

  ‘Tessa.’ His voice was a raw shout and he grabbed at her wrist, spinning her around and jerking her face towards him. ‘This is me, Max. I’m not your father, I’m not out to hurt you. I’m not out to hurt anyone.’

  ‘Maybe not.’ Her voice was so choked that when it came Max had to strain to listen. ‘But I’m not my mother either, and I’m certainly not going to let myself be like the damn woman who’s made her life hell!’ Wrenching her arm away, she turned on her heel, somehow managing to hold things together all the way to the lift, banging the ‘close’ button furiously as Max slammed at the door, biting back the tears as the lift plummeted down, her heart left behind with her stomach. Tears blinded her as she stepped out onto the street, stunned that the traffic was still moving, that people were walking hand in hand, buying papers, rushing for their trams, when her world had just disintegrated.

  ‘Tessa.’

  Jumping back, she watched as Fred slid to a halt, hanging his head out of the car window.

  ‘Where’s Max?’

  ‘He met up with some friends from uni.’ How easily the lies rolled off her tongue, how sordid the world of underground love would be. ‘I’m not up to socialising. I thought I might head home.’

  Cars were tooting behind Fred as he held up the traffic, impatient drivers wanting to get home to their families, to their loved ones and children, to their straightforward lives. She was sure Fred must surely know that she was lying, must somehow be able to guess what had just taken place. Her lips were still stinging from their brief kiss and she was sure that the guilt in her eyes must read like a newspaper headline. ‘Any chance of that lift home?’

  She jumped in just as Max stepped out of the Rialto. Frustrated and impatient, he hurtled onto to the street, his hungry eyes scanning the crowd. Clicking on her seat belt, she managed a half-smile at Fred before her eyes turned back and locked with Max’s.

  It would have been so easy to do something reckless here, to poke out her tongue or sneer distastefully, but somehow it didn’t seem enough.

  If he did love her, if Max truly cared, there was one thing that would hurt him more than anything. With a dismissive toss of her head, Tessa turned, dazzling the side of Fred’s unseeing head with the most charming of smiles.

  Let him look, Tessa thought with a strange surge of triumph, let him feel a tenth of the pain he’s inflicted on me.

  * * *

  Fred was actually good company.

  Nice, funny, good-looking, successful, everything a girl could want.

  If only she loved him.

  But Tessa didn’t love him, and playing with someone’s emotions after the cruel blow she had just been dealt wasn’t exactly on the top of her list. In fact, by the time the car had pulled off from the traffic lights and Max was a blur in the rear-view mirror, Tessa had declined an offer of dinner and had made it very clear that friends was all they were going to be.

  Male friends, Tessa thought ruefully. I could write a book on it.

  Getting out of the city took for ever with banked-up peak-hour traffic, but at least the evening glare of the sun gave Tessa an excuse to wear her sunglasses, and the busy road kept conversation pretty light.

  And as confused as Tessa was, as utterly perplexed as she felt, there was one thing of which she was certain.

  Max wasn’t going to leave things there. He’d be on her doorstep with in minutes of her getting home and right now Max Slater was the very last person Tessa wanted to see.

  ‘Actually, Fred, can I change my mind? I think I might head off to my mum’s, she’s only a few minutes away from here.’

  ‘Can’t say I blame you,’ Fred said easily as he followed her instructions, bypassing the freeway and following instead the winding beach road along the bay. ‘You’ve had a rough day. A good dose of TLC sounds in order.’

  ‘Do you want a coffee?’ Tessa offered, trying and failing not to sound too half-hearted with her offer as they pulled up outside the pretty weatherboard house, the tubs of flowers on the veranda drooping listlessly in the early evening sun, the sprinklers spluttering into life as she pulled open the passenger door. But Fred just gave his lazy smile, not remotely fazed at her eagerness to get inside.

  ‘Better not.’

  For someone who cried so easily, Tessa did amazingly well—not a single tear slid under her glasses, she even managed a wave from her parents’ front door. But as soon as the front door was pulled open, as soon as the smiling, trusting face of her mother greeted her, her façade dissolved so rapidly that for a second Mrs Hardy thought someone must surely have died.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ASSERTIVENESS was never Tessa’s forte.

  Sure, at work she could make snap decisions, delegate, even relegate when she had to, but when it came to matters of the heart it was a different situation altogether. How Tessa would have loved to have headed to her own home, to calmly open the door when Max undoubtedly appeared with his attempt at explanation. To listen to him coolly, disdainfully even, before shrugging him off with some crushing reply.

  Fat chance.

  A far more realistic scenario was Tessa bursting into tears on impact, and apologising for storming off. Max Slater was comparable to chocolate—infinitely desirable, desperately craved but, unfortunately, terribly bad for you.

  And her will-power around him was zero.

  Far more terrifying, though, than the thought of confrontation was the awful gnawing truth that, despite her morals, despite her abhorrence of an affair, the very real chance she would given in to the temptation that overwhelmed her at times, accept his excuses, accept his explanation and tumble into bed with him.

  Start the diet tomorrow, so to speak.

  For that tiny glimpse of paradise, the bliss of his lips on hers, the intimacy of his kiss, had Tessa utterly and completely lost.

  Her days off were spent instead skulking in her old bedroom, taking long walks on the same beach she normally frequented, just fifty or so kilometres further along, and, while hating herself for it, tucking into the mountains of comfort food her mum lined the cupboards and fridges with. Anyway, Tessa consoled herself as she poured warm milk over some cereal and spooned on the sugar, she was hardly going to drop a lot of weight in her two days off. And more to the point, looking good for Max wasn’t on her agenda.

  ‘Why not ring in sick?’ Bronwyn Hardy placed a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of her daughter, perhaps not the most nutritious breakfast drink but it filled a hole, an aching, gaping h
ole.

  Temporarily at least.

  ‘Because I’m not sick,’ Tessa said, taking a sip of the steaming drink. Lovesick maybe, but she didn’t fancy her chances of asking Dr Hays, the family GP, to write that on a medical certificate. ‘Well, have you thought about what I said last night?’ Bronwyn pulled up a chair at the kitchen table and put the teatowel she was holding down in front of her, clearly settling in for another heart to heart.

  ‘There’s nothing to think about. What time are you going to the hairdresser’s?’

  ‘Not until two.’ Bronwyn gave her a shrewd smile. ‘And don’t try and change the subject.’

  ‘I’m not, Mum,’ Tessa lied. ‘I just don’t need to think about it. I’m not going to leave Peninsula Hospital. Why would I when I love my job?’

  ‘I know you do, dear,’ Bronwyn reasoned. ‘But it is a stressful job, and you seem to bring home all the worries with you. How many times have you fretted over a patient, and not just the sick ones either? You’re always worrying about the homeless, and the like. It’s bound to catch up sooner or later. What you need is a break, a proper one. Lots of young people take a year out and travel these days.’

  ‘I’m hardly a teenager.’

  ‘So? Look, Tessa, I’ve never seen you so upset. I know you don’t want to talk about the inquest, but I know it’s affected you deeply. You’ve been worrying about it for months. Look at how much weight you’ve lost!’

  ‘And look at how much weight I still need to lose,’ Tessa pointed out. ‘I’m hardly fading away with worry.’

  Tessa hated lying, hated the fact her mum was so worried about her and that she had let her think it was all tied up with the inquest, that her tears and later melancholy were all somehow work-related. But how could she tell her mother the truth after all she had been through with her own marriage? Sure, after the initial shock, Tessa didn’t doubt her mum would support her, go right on loving her, but seeing the disappointment in her eyes was something Tessa just couldn’t deal with right now.

  ‘Just think about it, Tessa,’ Bronwyn carried on unmercifully. ‘You could travel around Europe like your cousin Sally, get a job in London even. Isn’t where that consultant you work with is heading off to? Perhaps he could put in a good word for you, you’re a great nurse.’

 

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