The Doctor Calling

by Meredith Appleyard

  ‘They’ve always been friendly from what I can remember.’

  Laura perched her backside on one of the boulders. Jake handed her the water bottle. She had a drink and passed it back.

  ‘It is very beautiful,’ she said, shading her eyes with her hand as she took in the timeless landscape. ‘Dry, harsh but gentle. The colours are unique . . . blues and mauves. They’re soft, haunting.’

  She turned to Jake, who was leaning on the rock beside her, the breeze ruffling his hair. A crow, perched in a nearby silver mulga tree, stared at them with a beady eye.

  ‘Didn’t you miss it?’

  ‘Obviously not enough to make me want to come back,’ he said.

  Laura swatted some more at the flies. The crow swore and flew off.

  ‘But now that you’re here?’ she persisted, not sure what she wanted him to say but knowing it was more than what he was saying.

  ‘Laura,’ he said, and then sighed. ‘Over the last few years the place has been let go. I’m not blaming Darren and Jess. It’s been tough for a lot of people on the land. So much so there’s probably never been a spare dollar to put back into it, and from what Jess says, Darren lost the urge to do it.’

  ‘The farmhouse is in such a lovely spot with those majestic gum trees as a backdrop. It has real character. All that gorgeous timber! It’s a renovator’s dream.’

  ‘More likely a renovator’s nightmare. It’s riddled with salt damp, there’s wood rot in some of that gorgeous timber and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were white ants as well. It needs a new roof, new wiring and new plumbing.’

  ‘You make it sound as if it’s about to fall down. Don’t tell Jess.’

  ‘Jess has lived there all her life. I’m sure she knows exactly what’s going on with that house.’ He bumped his shoulder with hers. ‘Come on, we’d better get back. Take the old man home.’

  ‘It’s so peaceful up here. I feel like I’m out in the middle of nowhere.’

  ‘You are,’ he said and they slowly made their way down to the car.

  When she’d buckled her seatbelt she turned to him and said innocently, ‘Thanks for bringing me out here, Jake. But you know, I’d be really disappointed if I was the only girl, besides your sister, who you’d brought out here and hadn’t made out with.’

  His head jerked around so fast she heard the tendons creak. She grinned but the hungry look in his eyes quickly wiped the merriment from her mouth. A ribbon of heat curled through her.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, would I,’ he said, his voice shivering across her skin, swamping her in sensation.

  She popped the catch on her seatbelt and met him halfway. Warm, strong fingers framed her face and a callused thumb pulled across her bottom lip. She made a sound, low in her throat, when he replaced his thumb with his mouth, nipping and sucking lightly up to her top lip. Then his tongue gently pushed open her lips, and he was upon her. He kissed her deeply, hungrily. Everything in her body snapped to attention. His fingers pushed into her hair, held her head steady while he all but devoured her mouth. Her arms snaked around his neck and she kissed him back, giving in to her body’s desire, surrendering to the moment. She couldn’t get any closer to him without climbing onto his lap.

  When they let go of each other, their chests were heaving, their breath heavy.

  ‘Disappointed?’ he whispered and she shook her head. Her lips felt swollen, bruised, and her body electrified.

  ‘I am,’ he said and lifted himself up, shifting in the seat. ‘I’m disappointed we’re not somewhere other than a damn car, out in the middle of nowhere.’

  He started the vehicle, rammed his seatbelt home. Laura felt the burn of his gaze when he flicked it sideways and said, ‘But then again we’re not kids. If we’d been somewhere else we wouldn’t have stopped at a kiss, would we?’

  Laura licked her tender lips and stared at his hands on the steering wheel as he reversed the car back onto the rough track.

  ‘No,’ she said on a breath, imagining those clever hands undressing her slowly, plundering her body, continuing on from where his mouth had left off. But as they moved further away from their kiss Laura’s lust morphed into a dragging feeling of despair. Neill would die soon and Jake would go. She swallowed hard, and focussed on the passing landscape. She would have to trust her newly healed heart not to break again.

  Neill was grey with fatigue and his face twisted with pain when Jake carried him to the car before their journey home.

  Jess embraced her father, tears glistening in her eyes. ‘I’m so glad you came, Dad. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  He nodded weakly and squeezed her hand.

  Laura hugged Jess. ‘Thank you. It was a lovely meal. And I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, too.’

  ‘You will,’ Jess said. ‘And thank you. Jake, don’t forget to email those photos you took at lunchtime of Dad and the boys.’

  The drive home was quiet. Jake drove, Neill sat up the front with his eyes tightly shut, bracing himself for each bump, and Laura sat in the back. When she was through convincing herself Neill was all right, she let herself relive every second of Jake’s passionate kiss. When she came to, she caught him watching her in the rear-view mirror. His eyes were dark and knowing and she felt her cheeks heat.

  After they’d arrived home and she’d helped settle Neill, made sure he took his pain relief, Jake gently grasped her shoulders.

  ‘I need to stay with him, you know that, don’t you?’ His voice was thick with desire and regret.

  ‘Yes, I understand,’ she said, though she wished it were otherwise.

  Jake’s hands dropped from her shoulders. ‘And maybe it’s better this way, Laura. You and I —’

  She stopped his words with her fingertips. ‘Don’t say anything more,’ she said. When she lifted her fingers from his mouth he grabbed her wrist, stilled her hand, crushed his lips against her palm, then let her go. She curled her fingers around the kiss.

  Jake eased back.

  ‘He needs more pain relief,’ Laura said. ‘He’s really suffering.’

  He looked away and with a sinking feeling Laura realised that things between father and son had yet to be resolved.

  ‘I’ll go,’ she said quietly. ‘Leave you to it.’

  Tired, both physically and emotionally, Laura drove around the corner home. The first thing she did when she’d unpacked the car was ring her sister. Laura desperately needed someone to talk to. Her life was suddenly getting complicated.

  After their big lunchtime meal, Sam and Mikey were happy with baked beans on toast for tea. It was just as well, because Jess felt like a wrung-out dishrag and pulling the lid off a tin of beans was about as much as she could handle. What she wouldn’t give to have a break from the constant loop of her thoughts: Dad’s dying, Darren’s gone, the farm’s bankrupt, as soon as Dad dies Jake will go . . . It didn’t matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get past the problems to start thinking about solutions. Perhaps she’d come away from tomorrow’s appointment with Laura with the embryo of at least one solution for her mounting pile of problems.

  Jess contemplated the cracked skin on her hands, the split finger­nails, then caught her reflection in the kitchen window. Her normally lustrous brown hair was dull and lifeless and it wouldn’t be long before her eyes were swallowed by the bags underneath.

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Sam?’

  ‘Would Dad come back if we asked him to? He said on the phone that he missed us.’

  ‘Do you want to ask him to come back?’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Poppa said we could always give it a try.’

  ‘Did he?’ Jess answered, surprised her father had said that. He’d never been Darren’s biggest fan. ‘What else did Poppa say?’

  ‘He said sometimes adults do things that kids don’t understand until they become adults.’

  ‘And sometimes, Sam, adults do things that other adults don’t understand.’

  Darren had phoned earli
er, while Jake and Laura had been at the bluff. He’d wanted to wish his father-in-law a happy birthday. The boys must have told him Neill would be there. After he’d talked to Sam and Mikey and then Neill, he’d asked to speak to Jess.

  ‘I’ve put some money back into the account,’ he’d said. ‘For the boys’ Christmas presents.’

  ‘What about food, Darren, electricity, gas? Let’s not forget Sam needs new sneakers and Mikey needs to see an ENT specialist for his tonsillitis. And that’s before I get to tyres for the car, a new house pump so we can have running water. You get my drift?’

  ‘Jess, there wouldn’t be any more money if I was there. There’d be less with another mouth to feed. I’m looking for a job. As soon as I get one I’ll send money. You get my drift?’

  ‘Okay,’ she’d said and it was the first time she hadn’t felt like throwing up after he’d disconnected.

  ‘Mum,’ Sam said, snapping her back to her son and his question. ‘If you don’t want him to come home, we don’t have to ask him. I can do more stuff around here. I can help Uncle Jake.’

  Jess nearly choked on the guilt she felt for the role she’d unwittingly played in the situation they now found themselves in.

  ‘You already do more than enough, mate,’ she said, blinking back bitter tears. She pulled her eldest son into a fierce hug. ‘Is it okay if I think a bit more about asking your dad to come home? With Poppa being so sick, maybe we can decide after Christmas?’

  Sam nodded; he looked so serious. ‘I’ll tell Mikey,’ he said.

  ‘Okay, you do that. And Sam, remember you can ask me anything, anything at all, anytime.’

  When he’d gone Jess sat for a moment to collect her scattered thoughts. Their children were blameless in all this and they were suffering because of it. Her fingers clenched into fists as she made a promise to herself that whatever happened she would do her best to give Sam and Mikey the home they deserved, just like their father had for her and Jake all those years ago. Smothering a yawn she went and put on a load of washing.

  That night Jess slept for six solid hours and on waking felt more refreshed than she had since Darren had left. She rang the Potters Junction health centre first thing and made an appointment with Laura. As the day progressed, she nurtured the kernel of hope she’d felt for the first time that morning – that things would work out in the future.

  When Jake turned the ute into Neill’s street late Monday afternoon, Milt Burns’s Statesman was parked out the front, halfway onto the footpath. Heart racing, Jake punched the accelerator and then the brakes, bringing the ute to a shuddering halt in the carport. Not stopping to close the door he jogged across the front verandah and tugged open the front door.

  ‘Dad?’ he called and Milt Burns’s mournful visage appeared around the bedroom door.

  ‘It’s all right, boy, he’s in here. I came to see him on my day off and we’ve had a chat and decided it is time for the needle. The palliative-­care nurse will be here shortly with all the gear. Someone will need to be around all the time from now on, or we can put Neill into the hospital.’

  ‘No hospital.’ Jake stopped at the bedroom door, a loud roaring noise in his head. ‘What happened, Dad?’

  ‘Nothing, I just can’t put up with it any longer.’

  Panic and anger shot a red-hot bolt through him. He wasn’t ready to lose his father to a drug-induced fugue. He hadn’t talked to his dad yet. He turned to Milt. ‘Did Laura contact you?’

  ‘Nope. Should she have?’

  Jake’s eyes narrowed. The old bastard wouldn’t tell him if she had. He looked through the door to where his father lay.

  ‘It wasn’t Laura. I talked to the nurse this morning. And Jess was here earlier.’ The room was hot and sick smelling. Jake went to his bedside.

  ‘Dad, why haven’t you got the fan on? Do you want me to open the window?’

  Milt plonked himself back in the chair by the bed. ‘It’s not too bad in here. Wouldn’t mind a beer, though. What about you, mate?’

  Jake glared at Milt.

  ‘Do you want a beer, Dad?’

  ‘Tea. Half a cup.’

  Once, just once, Jake would like to punch Milt Burns. All he ever did was cause upset in this family. He went to the kitchen to make tea and to get the good doctor a beer. It was while he was waiting for the kettle to boil, pacing the kitchen trying to tamp down his emotions, that he remembered he’d left Skip on the tray of the ute. He went around the side of the house into the carport only to find Laura walking down the driveway towards him, her car parked behind the Statesman.

  ‘What’s Milt doing here?’

  His heart did a somersault at the sight of her. He avoided her gaze and unclipped Skip’s chain. The dog bounded off the side of the ute. He felt a moment’s remorse – he’d just suspected her of inter­fering.

  ‘Jake? What’s happened?’ she said.

  He slammed the driver’s side door.

  ‘You were right. Milt’s sorting out more pain relief for Dad. The palliative-care nurse is coming.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘It’s his decision.’

  They stood there, sweltering under the carport’s thin tin roof, looking everywhere but at each other. This was it, the beginning of the end. He wanted to cry out, to hit something. There were so many things he needed to say to the old man, to Laura, but the words wouldn’t come.

  ‘I’ll go in and say hello,’ she said and the moment was lost, and all he could come up with was, ‘The kettle will have boiled if you want a cup of tea.’

  The bleak look on Jake’s face brought tears to Laura’s eyes. He turned his back. She so wanted to hold him but he was angry, hurting, had closed himself off.

  As she moved away he muttered something about tea. Laura knew exactly what he was going through, remembered how she’d felt when they’d started her mother on the morphine pump. It was the final slide downhill to oblivion, and then death. From here, life could be measured in days, not weeks. Laura had just spent the last hour of her working day listening to Jake’s sister talk about how frightened she was, how angry she was that all the men she loved had left, or would in the near future. Jess had kept asking what she’d done wrong and Laura couldn’t answer her. There was no answer.

  ‘Jake,’ she said, pausing in the carport entrance. He didn’t turn around.

  ‘What?’

  ‘If you want to talk, I’ll listen.’ He acknowledged with an up-and-down jerk of his head and then he disappeared around the back.

  Laura followed the murmur of voices to Neill’s bedroom. Milt was sitting in a chair beside the bed, talking softly to Neill. It took a moment before they realised she was there. When they did Neill lifted his hand from the bed in greeting. ‘Ah, another doctor calling.’

  ‘Hello, and what are you two blokes plotting? Nothing good, I’d bet.’

  Milt pushed himself to his feet. He did look guilty.

  There was a knock on the front door. ‘That’ll be Angela, the pal-care nurse,’ Milt said, as he plodded past Laura to answer the door.

  Laura went to Neill’s bedside and took his hand in hers. ‘You’ve made the right decision. There’s a point when the pain becomes too much. No-one expects you to put up with it.’ Neill clung to her, his grip surprisingly firm.

  ‘Thank you.’ He tugged at her, urging her towards him. ‘I have had enough, Laura. After yesterday . . .’ He sighed, seemed to sink further into the pillows. ‘I know Jess’ll be fine, she has Sam and Mikey, and Darren, he’ll be back. He’s no farmer but he loves his family and they’ll sort things out.’

  Neill pulled on her hand again, urged her closer. She could hear each tortured breath struggle from his chest.

  ‘It’s Jake who I worry about, he’s made it so he has no-one. It breaks my heart. I’d hoped —’ He paused, eyes glassy with tears. ‘Look out for him, Laura. I see that you care for him.’

  She folded her other hand around his, gave his fingers a gentle press while blinking back h
er own tears. ‘I promise, Neill. I’ll look out for him. As much as he’ll let me.’

  Neill withdrew his hand. ‘I knew I could count on you.’ He closed his eyes, a satisfied expression settling on his face.

  Laura straightened up, swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand just as Milt came into the room with the palliative-care nurse and Jake, hot on their heels.

  ‘It’s getting pretty crowded in here, so I’ll go,’ she said.

  When she left, Laura felt Jake’s intense gaze follow her out.

  The sun had set, the brightest stars appearing in the encroaching darkness. The cane chair creaked as Laura moved. Her empty glass scraped on the cement verandah. Zephyrs of air, with just a hint of night-time coolness, lifted the hairs on her bare arms. The air was laced with the smell of herbs and damp soil. She leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes.

  Alice was coming to visit soon. It would be good to see her sister. Someone familiar. On the phone the previous evening she’d asked her to come for Christmas, or at least to visit sometime over the break.

  ‘Only if you come here for new year,’ her sister had replied.

  ‘Agreed.’

  The bed and other furniture would need to be moved back into the spare room and the new sheets and quilt cover washed. Laura made a mental list of the things she had to do at home and at work. Talk to Milt Burns kept popping up and she kept pushing it aside.

  Her lids felt heavy. She heard vehicles come and go next door, the sound of people talking, and tried to ignore the stab of hurt when she recognised Jake’s voice amongst the others. She must have slept because when Laura opened her eyes it was completely dark and she sensed rather than saw him sitting beside her in the other cane chair.

  ‘You snore.’

  ‘Do I?’ She sat forward, massaged the crick in her neck.

  ‘Jess brought Sam and Mikey to see Dad. She wanted them to see him while he was still with it.’