we think so I don’t think a boy with a girl’s heart would
feel anything other than tremendously grateful to the
girl who gave it to him.You already know about the con-
fidentiality of organ donor lists and, yes, it must be hard
for you not to know, but Phil—Dr Park—couldn’t tell
you who got your heart any more than the donor centre
can. I’ve only been here a short time, but I know from
the records I read before coming that Phil hasn’t lost a
patient in the last year, so we can assume your heart is
going well and doing a great job for someone. Does that
help?’
She watched Kelly think about it, but she was obvi-
ously more interested in the first part of the conversa-
tion than in the health of her heart recipient.
‘You mean you have to think about things—love
and stuff—with your head before you feel it in your
body?’
Grace wasn’t entirely certain this was true. The at-
traction between her and Theo was so strong—on her
part anyway—she all but lost her head whenever he was
near.
‘I think physical attraction doesn’t need much
thinking about,’ she admitted. ‘You know, getting goose-
bumps when you’re near a boy you like.’ Did teenagers
get goose-bumps? ‘But real love, the kind that might
hurt your heart, or your liver in another civilisation,
well, that has more to do with your head than your body.’
Good grief! Was she really spouting this rubbish?
Did she believe it? She had no idea, but Kelly seemed
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to be thinking about her words so they might be
helping.
‘But what about babies?’
This question came out of the blue, fitting into
Grace’s mindset in a positively creepy way.
‘Babies?’
‘If it’s a boy with my heart, will he love his babies
like a man or like a woman?’
Grace smiled.
‘I think men and women love their babies in the
same way. I think both their hearts hurt when their
babies cry.’
Theo’s wouldn’t because he wouldn’t hear their baby
cry. She had to think about this!
‘But it’s not really their heart that’s hurting, it’s emo-
tion causing their distress,’ she added, ‘and emotion can
change the way we breathe and the way our hearts
work, so we might experience a dull ache in the chest
and we say it’s heartache but really it’s a physical mani-
festation of the change in our bodies because of the
emotion we’re feeling.’
Once again the young woman with the most unusual
reason for visiting a specialist Grace had ever heard
seemed to be thinking.
‘I think I understand,’ she finally said. ‘Mind you, if
he or she is anything like me, when I get a pain in the
chest I panic and think something’s gone wrong medi-
cally, not that I might be suffering love heartache.’
‘That’s a sensible way to feel, although you seem
extremely healthy. Your specialists are happy with
your progress?’
Kelly beamed.
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‘Very happy,’ she said. ‘It’s a year ago today and look
at me.’
She stood up and twirled around, her skirt flying out
around her legs.
‘Before I would have been breathless standing up
and I certainly couldn’t have turned around.’
‘Then you must be extremely grateful to the person
whose heart and lungs you received and you should
understand that whoever got your heart is feeling just
as grateful to you.’
‘But it’s different for me,’ Kelly argued. ‘Because
my donor is dead and though I’m grateful to his or her
family for donating the organs, I don’t have to worry
about what’s happening in his or her life, if you know
what I mean!’
Grace did, but Kelly obviously had more to say so
she waited.
‘The thing is, it’s horrid having to go on being
grateful—I know, because I’ve been sick all my life that
I can remember, and people were always doing nice
things for me and my family, and we went on trips and
had camps and I liked all that but you have to keep
thanking people and it kind of bugs you after a while,
and what I really wanted to say to my heart person is
that there’s no need to feel grateful to me, because I
only gave him or her something that would have been
tossed in the rubbish otherwise.’
A heart tossed in the rubbish—the analogy was too
close for comfort as far as Grace was concerned but
Kelly was talking about real hearts, not emotion, except
that gratitude was an emotion.
‘I don’t think you should worry about the person
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119
being grateful,’ Grace said, ‘because telling someone
not to be grateful isn’t going to stop them. Your person
might not think about you every day, but I’m sure when
something nice happens in his or her life, like a beau-
tiful sunny day after rain, or seeing a really good
football game if it’s a boy, then I’m sure somewhere
inside they say thank you to you, sending out a message
into the ether and probably hoping that just as nice
things are happening to you.’
Once again Kelly seemed to consider the words,
then she smiled.
‘I reckon I can live with that,’ she said, ‘so that will
do for emotion, but what about practical stuff? What if
my heart went to a boy and I meet him in ten years’ time
and we fall in love—would that be OK for our babies
and stuff?’
Grace smiled at her.
‘Do you lie awake at night thinking up difficult ques-
tions for doctors to answer?’
Kelly returned her smile.
‘No, I lie awake at night listening to my lungs
work—or not listening to them. But would babies be
OK?’
‘Babies would be OK,’ Grace assured her, ‘but as two
people with complex medical issues in your pasts, you’d
need to have genetic testing because your babies could
inherit the problems you both had. And you’d probably
have to go into enough detail about your medical con-
ditions that the chances are you’d find out he had your
heart.’
‘Wow! Wouldn’t that be great?’
Bizarre would be closer to the mark, Grace thought,
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but she didn’t say it. Teenage girls should be allowed
to keep their dreams.
She walked out with Kelly, said goodbye to her at
the front desk, and was heading back to the consulta-
tion room to tidy up the files and dictate a note to Phil
when Becky stopped her.
‘She wasn’t really one of Phil’s old babies, was
she?’ she asked.
Seventh daughter of a
seventh daughter?
‘What makes you think that?’ Grace asked, dismiss-
ing the irreverent thought.
‘Phil grew up in England, he became a surgeon
there, not here, and Kelly didn’t have an English
accent.’
‘Of course,’ Grace said, then she had to ask. ‘But if
you knew that, why did you make an appointment for
her?’
Becky shrugged.
‘To be truthful, it was because you were there. If Phil
had been here I would have told her he had no time
available, made an appointment in a month or two to
keep her happy, then talked to Phil. But she seemed, I
don’t know, uptight somehow, and she was on medica-
tion from the look of her, so I didn’t really want to
upset her. Besides which, Phil is great and terrific with
patients but I didn’t know how much empathy he’d
have with teenage girls.’
Grace digested this information then once again
had to ask.
‘And what made you think I would?’
Becky beamed at her.
‘You come across all cool and calm and collected,
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121
but I reckon you’ve got a heart as big as South Africa.
Is South Africa bigger or smaller than Australia? I don’t
know much about it except for wild animals.’
The talk had veered from country sizes into zebras,
which apparently were Becky’s favourite animal, then
drifted away as idle conversation did until Grace said
she had to dictate her notes and Becky remembered she
had a fitting for her wedding dress and they parted,
Becky apparently oblivious to the fact that she’d
shocked Grace to her core.
A big heart?
Did Becky know about the arrangement she’d made
for the Robinsons to come to Sydney? Grace had
worked so hard to keep the donation anonymous and it
had been practicality, not sentiment, that had prompted
her to see the hospital social worker to find out how she
could help get them closer to their baby. All it had
needed had been some money—practical stuff!
She’d always considered her heart more detached
than anything else…
But as she dictated the notes for Phil, she pondered
how often hearts had cropped up in her day then
mocked herself because that was what she did—fixed
hearts.
But the conversation she’d had with Kelly remained
with her, and though she knew full well the heart wasn’t
the seat of the emotions, hers still skipped a beat when
she bumped into Theo in the tearoom.
Unfortunately, another part of Kelly’s conversation
popped up in her head—the part about gratitude—
and she suddenly felt uneasy in her lover’s presence.
Not that there was anything lover-like in his attitude
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and she hoped, in front of several members of the
team, she was behaving equally coolly. But gratitude
stuck with her, so when, later, they did walk down the
road to the brasserie, she had to speak to him about
it.
‘I talked to someone today about gratitude,’ she
began, cautious at first because for all they’d spent the
night together she felt they didn’t know each other very
well, and she was feeling shy and awkward once again.
But once she’d begun the words came tumbling out.
‘And it made me realise that you’re doing me this big
favour and, of course, I’m grateful but I’d like to think
you’re getting something out of it as well, so I don’t have
to keep on being overly grateful, if you know what I
mean.’
Theo gave a shout of laughter and pulled her into his
arms—right outside Scoozi where, no doubt, half the
hospital was having dinner.
‘Oh, Grace,’ he said, giving her a hug then swinging
her around so they were all but dancing on the sidewalk.
‘You really are the world’s most insecure woman. For
a start, at this stage there’s no great favour being done—
we’re using protection, remember. And on top of that,
do you think I was putting on my enjoyment last night?
Do you think I wouldn’t have stuck with a non-physical
union if you’d repelled me? Not, as I said, that any
major decision has been taken yet.’
He let her go but only to drag her into the shadow
of a tree, so he could look down into her face.
Not only look at her, but punctuate his words with
kisses.
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123
‘You—’ kiss ‘—are—’ kiss ‘—one—’ kiss ‘—sexy—’
kiss ‘—delicious—’kiss ‘—delectable—’kiss ‘—woman.’
kiss.
Then he straightened up, put his hands on her shoul-
ders and looked into her eyes, his own saying things that
made her shiver.
‘Understand?’
She managed a nod, although she was beginning to
think she could easily go without dinner again tonight…
They did eat dinner at the brasserie, not only that night
but many other nights, varying their diet by trying some
of the many restaurants closer to Theo’s home, one
night eating fish and chips on a beach close by. But
every night ended up in the same way, together in
Theo’s big bed, until it became difficult for Grace to
remember just why they were doing this.
Until she realised that six weeks had gone by. The
food they’d shopped for back when she’d first arrived
had long since been moved to Theo’s place or thrown
out, most of her clothes were now hung in his dressing
room, and the little flat in Kensington Terrace was
nothing more than a memory.
Six weeks!
She hadn’t had a period!
But they were still using protection, weren’t they?
She tried to think back to any time they might have
been careless but her brain had gone missing again, al-
though this time it was because her head had filled with
panic. Theo had said he’d wanted to get to know her
better before she tried to conceive, but as she’d grown
to know him better, she’d realised it was because he was
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wary of having another child—the pain of Elena’s loss
still too deep.
And right now, she realised, Theo’s feelings were
more important than her desire to have a child.
In fact, now that she considered it, Theo was more
important to her than any child.
Oh, dear, had she fallen in love?
How could that have happened? It wasn’t what she
wanted at all and it definitely wasn’t what Theo wanted!
Not that Theo need know.
Too confused to think about love, she thought about
her body, wondering if she could feel any changes in
it.
As if!
But it was a Saturday morning. She was off duty but
Theo was working. She had intended taking a
bus to the
city and have a look around, something she’d done with
Theo, but then they’d done tourist things—the Opera
House, The Rocks. This time she’d thought she’d look
around the shops.
What she should now do was find a pharmacy…
It was ridiculous—they’d been using protection…
‘And if you are?’
She asked herself the question out loud because she
knew it was important.
If she was pregnant then she’d have no excuse to
keep up the relationship with Theo. Her goal would
have been achieved.
But at the cost of losing Theo?
And although she assured herself a hundred times a
day that she was not getting emotionally involved with
him, she didn’t want to end their affair—not just yet…
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125
What a muddle. The thought of shifting out of
Theo’s house—out of his bed—was so upsetting she
was almost tempted to not get a test. She could ignore
the fact she was late and just go on as before.
Or do a test, find out, but not tell Theo.
That option made her feel sick and very, very
ashamed that she could even consider such deception.
Getting out of bed was a start. She would go into the
city. She would buy a test kit.
She dressed but then, instead of catching one of the
buses she knew ran along the adjoining street every ten
minutes, she caught a cab, asking the driver to drop her
at the Queen Victoria Building, the only landmark she
knew right in the centre of Sydney. Somewhere nearby
she’d find a pharmacy.
Which all worked well, but having the test kit was
suddenly not enough—she had to know and she had to
know now! A public toilet in a big department store was
hardly the best place to find out if her long-term dream
had been fulfilled, but that’s exactly where she did find
out that the baby she so desperately wanted was already
growing inside her.
She stared at the line on the stick, checked the
packet’s instructions to make sure she was reading it
properly, checked the line again then gave a whoop of
joy.
She was pregnant! It had happened!
She couldn’t stop smiling. To have a baby—to have
a child on whom she could lavish a mother’s love, the
love she’d missed out on as a child. Yes, her father had
been wonderful, but she knew instinctively a mother’s
love was different.
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