‘Still, if you’d rather stay here by yourself, be my guest, but I’ll be leaving in about ten minutes. I’m taking Ash’s warning seriously, so I’m not hanging around to welcome my mother. Give her my love when you see her…if she ever lets you get a word in edgeways.’
‘Livvy…!’ The mixture of emotions contained in that one word would have been enough to make her cave in two years ago, especially as she knew he wasn’t the sort of man to cope with helplessness easily. But she was dealing with overwhelming emotions, here, too, and her need to take care of this man…to honour the part of her vows that had spelled out her responsibilities towards him in sickness and in health…was paramount when she still had no idea of the severity of his condition.
‘Make up your mind, Gregor,’ she said, hoping she sounded resolute enough to convince him, even though most of her attention was focused on trying to guess what sort of tests Rick d’Agostino wanted to perform so urgently. ‘Are you going to make that phone call before I drive us both to the hospital, or do I leave you here?’
She stalked across the room to the second set of wardrobes and heard his sharply indrawn breath when she opened the door to reveal the fact that his belongings were still there, untouched from the day she’d neatly hung his freshly ironed ‘civilian’ shirts away the day after he’d left on that last posting.
Her face was burning at this mute evidence that she’d never really believed that he was never coming back to her; that she hadn’t been able to force herself to dispose of anything that belonged to the man she’d loved, even though he’d officially been declared dead.
Gregor stared in disbelief at the neat array of suits and shirts, his heart suddenly beating so fast that he could hardly breathe.
He hadn’t even bothered to open the wardrobe doors that morning to see if he had something other than the rather crumpled borrowed clothing that had been left in his soft-sided holdall all night; hadn’t even considered that Livvy might have kept his things when he’d been away for so long.
But she had kept them.
In fact, it looked as if she’d kept everything…even the disreputable old leather jacket that he’d bought for himself with his first earnings as a teenager. It might even fit him, at last, now that heaving himself around had built up the muscles in his shoulders and arms. It would certainly fit him better than it had when he’d bought it large enough to wear several bulky layers underneath it, the habit of buying clothing big enough to allow for growth something he’d always found hard to break.
But the fact that she’d even kept that scruffy jacket wasn’t what was important. What really mattered was the reason why Livvy hadn’t thrown everything away…or, at least, donated it to some good cause.
He now knew that it had been nearly two years since she’d been informed that he’d died in that explosion and the fact that she’d been just seconds away from marrying that perfect upper-crust fashion plate was evidence enough that she’d moved on, emotionally, so why hadn’t she done the most logical thing and got rid of the clutter he’d left behind him?
Just the thought of the recent phone call from her would-be husband stirred something deep inside him. His honest recognition that the man was a far better match for Livvy didn’t stop a low growl of frustration building up in the back of his throat and he could almost feel himself turning into a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal.
‘What’s your decision?’
The crisp question could easily have come from his former commanding officer rather than his wife, he mused wryly as he wheeled himself across to the wardrobe and gave in to the inevitable.
‘Can you grab a couple of shirts for me, please?’ he asked, even as she was reaching over his head to take out a handful of hangers and surrounding him with the scent of vanilla and spice that had haunted him for the last two years. He refused to allow the fact that he’d been unable to reach the shirts for himself to darken his mood still further, opting instead to pull several tracksuits from a shelf before pulling open the drawer that he knew would still hold neat stacks of underwear and socks.
There was a strange comfort in knowing that their shared love of order and organisation didn’t seem to have changed in the time they’d been apart, he mused in the silence of the taxi a few minutes later, but that would be far too little on which to start rebuilding their relationship.
And that was always supposing that Livvy was interested in rebuilding it, he thought darkly, deliberately shutting out the claustrophobic sensation that surrounded him as soon as he entered the main reception area of the hospital.
Then, of course, there was his appointment with Rick d’Agostino.
Just the thought of it was enough to send his stomach plunging towards his feet, and that, combined with the swift ascent of the lift, left him feeling distinctly light-headed.
‘What time are you due to see the consultant?’ Livvy asked with a quick glance at her watch.
‘You haven’t got time to sit around with me waiting for an appointment,’ he said hurriedly. ‘You’re needed down in A and E. Urgently, remember?’
She was clearly torn, the caring side of her nature wanting to stay with him so that he had some company while he waited, but to his relief, her responsible side won out.
‘Trish did sound a bit frazzled, with two members of staff missing,’ she agreed. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind if I go?’
He reassured her that he was unlikely to be kept waiting long, and then was astounded to find himself tempted to call her back when he saw her walking away, suddenly feeling a great wave of the same unutterable loneliness that had weighed him down while he’d lain in that far-away hospital bed convinced he would die without even knowing his real name.
‘Gregor. Good…good! I am pleased you could come in so quickly,’ Rick d’Agostino said as he strode swiftly towards him, the grey streaks in his curly hair almost looking like sparks of electricity, the man seemed so full of energy. ‘Let us go through to repeat that last set of nerve-conduction tests, then we will talk. Yes?’
Sick dread had settled like lead in the pit of Gregor’s stomach along with the realisation that it was all very well making plans to persuade Livvy to let him back into her life again for good, but until he knew the results of all the tests he’d undergone, he didn’t know whether he would have any sort of quality of life to offer to share with her.
To think that he’d once taken his health and strength for granted. He’d never had the slightest problem in passing his annual fitness test, completing his required push-ups, sit-ups and run with time to spare. Now, he would barely be able to get to the start line and out of his chair before the test was over.
And the last thing he would ever do was condemn her to be his caretaker and nurse for the rest of his life. That was the fundamental reason he’d delayed letting her know that he was alive. He’d been desperate to see her, but almost equally determined that he would return to her on his own two feet or not at all. Only his discovery of her imminent marriage had put paid to that plan.
So, he was having to take things one day at a time, and if he was revelling in spending even a few extra hours in her company, well, he would have to see that as an unexpected bonus.
‘You weren’t joking, were you?’ Olivia exclaimed when she caught her first sight of the crammed board, her preoccupation with the lonely image Gregor had made when she’d left him waiting for his appointment pushed to the back of her mind.
‘You should know by now that I never joke about needing extra sets of hands,’ Trish said crisply. ‘Now, Livvy — darling, please tell me you’ve come prepared to work a full shift at twice the speed of light.’
Olivia laughed. ‘I live to serve,’ she said. ‘So, where do you want me to start?’
‘I might need to grab you if we have more than one thing at a time come in to majors, but if you could start with the cubicles…?’ Trish suggested.
‘To hear is to obey.’ Olivia sketched an obsequious bow then squared her shoulders and s
et off for the first patient, as ever looking forward to doing what she saw as one of the most interesting jobs in the hospital. Where else could a doctor have a surprise behind every curtain and a different set of problems with every patient?
CHAPTER SIX
IT TOOK Olivia several hours before she felt as if she was starting to make some headway, or perhaps it was just because the early morning rush was tailing off, giving the hospital time to re-group before the afternoon onslaught began.
She’d heard the comings and goings of several traumas arriving at the other end of the department and part of her craved the adrenaline rush that always came with knowing that every second could count if they were to save a seriously injured patient’s life. The other part of her was quite grateful to be down at this end where there had been absolutely no time for her colleagues to grill her about the farce her wedding day had become. Not that they hadn’t wanted to, she admitted wryly, knowing that she’d deliberately delayed taking a break for just that reason.
Now, though, she was feeling the need to stretch her legs, straighten the kinks out of her neck and back and find herself something to drink. And if that meant that she might be cornered and quizzed, at least she had a chance to deflect questions under the pretext of catching up on what had been happening in the rest of the department.
The last thing she expected was to turn the corner and see Gregor’s wheelchair disappearing into one of the rooms further along the corridor.
What on earth was he doing down here? she wondered as she followed on his trail. She could understand if he’d come down to tell her that he’d finished his appointment with Rick d’Agostino, but it was unlikely that he’d be in need of sutures after an outpatient appointment in the orthopaedic department, no matter how urgent. And, anyway, they wouldn’t have sent him down to A and E for that.
She arrived in the doorway just in time to hear him introduce himself over the sound of heartbroken sobbing.
‘Hey, I’m Dr Gregor and I’ve been told that you need some help with a jigsaw puzzle.’
The sudden strange silence that greeted his announcement piqued her interest and she managed to position herself so that she could just see the person he was talking to. Or rather the people, because there were two of them sitting on the bed, obviously mother and daughter from their faces, the little child clutched tightly in her mother’s arms.
Both were tearstained but, more pertinently, both were liberally spattered with blood.
‘Why are you in that chair?’ demanded the wide-eyed little moppet bluntly, clearly fascinated enough by Gregor’s mode of transport to stop crying.
‘Because my legs got tired and I needed to sit down,’ he replied simply, then returned to his original question. ‘So, what about this puzzle you need my help with?’
‘What puzzle?’ The mother’s voice was shaky, obviously still affected by whatever had caused their injuries but apparently willing to play along, especially now that her daughter had stopped crying.
‘Well, I’m the top person in the hospital for putting things back together so you can hardly see where they were apart, and I was told that there were two people in here that needed me to put them back together really, really neatly.’
‘Like a jigsaw?’ the youngster asked warily. ‘But won’t it come apart again?’
‘Not the way I do it,’ Gregor said confidently. ‘Because I’m the best.’
‘So, how do you do it?’ she demanded cautiously. ‘Will it hurt?’
‘Not if I’m extra-careful,’ he promised. ‘And if I have my special helper with me.’ He threw a wicked glance over his shoulder and beckoned, and she realised with a sudden spike of awareness that he’d somehow known that she’d been there the whole time. ‘Come in, Livvy, and meet my new friends.’
Olivia shivered, wondering exactly how he’d known she was there. She was absolutely certain that she hadn’t made a sound and neither of his patients had so much as glanced in her direction, and yet he’d known.
Surely, it couldn’t be that strange sixth sense that had seemed to operate between the two of them, telling each of them when the other was close by? Surely, something like that couldn’t have survived the two years they’d been apart?
Her heart lifted inside her when she realised that one thing that certainly hadn’t changed was the way the two of them worked together. It was almost as if words were unnecessary…apart from the stream of light-hearted nonsense that kept little Kylie entertained while her wounds were cleaned and debrided then sutured with the finest, neatest stitches she’d ever seen.
‘What on earth had happened?’ Olivia asked after they left, Kylie sporting two ‘I was very brave’ stickers on her blood-spattered sparkly pink T-shirt — one for each arm — and her mother clutching a prescription for antibiotics and an instruction sheet.
‘The grandmother came to visit, bringing her cat with her,’ Gregor explained as he stripped off his disposable gloves and fired them unerringly into the bin. ‘Grandmother’s cat attacked Kylie’s cat, so the little girl tried to separate them and got attacked by both.’
‘So, how did you get roped-in to dealing with it?’ she asked as she kept pace with his chair on the way to the staffroom and her much-delayed infusion of coffee. A sudden thought struck her. ‘When did you have your last painkillers?’
Gregor threw her a dark look. ‘Surely you know me better than to think I would treat patients if I was under the influence of analgesia that strong,’ he growled. ‘As for dealing with some simple suturing…I was here, I was available, and I was ready, willing and able to pitch in, especially as it’s something at which I’ve become rather proficient,’ he added as he negotiated a path through the scattering of chairs littering the staffroom.
‘Dealing with injured children, or suturing?’ she asked, and found herself automatically fixing his coffee without needing to ask him how he wanted it.
‘Both,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Even when I didn’t know who I was or where I came from, somehow I still knew that I was a doctor, and once I’d recovered enough to make myself useful…’
He didn’t really need to say any more because that was just the way Gregor had always been…incapable of sitting around if there was someone who needed his help.
‘But you’re not a member of staff here,’ she pointed out. ‘If someone took it into their head to make a complaint, HR would go ballistic.’
‘The A and E consultant contacted the human resources department and told them to get the paperwork sorted by the time he sent me in to see my first patient so that I’d be covered by the hospital’s insurance.’ He grinned. ‘It was amazing to see how fast they arrived with the paperwork to get my signature.’
‘It probably helped, the fact that you’d actually worked here during your training. It wouldn’t have taken very long to check up that you hadn’t been struck off in the meantime. Oh!’ A sudden thought struck her. ‘I wonder if the computer tried to tell them that you’re not alive any more!’
Gregor chuckled aloud, the sound strangely rusty as if he hadn’t had much opportunity to laugh since he’d disappeared from her life. ‘I wonder if that’s why the young woman from HR gave me that funny look? Perhaps she was expecting to see a corpse?’
‘So — ’ she sank gratefully into the nearest chair and kicked her shoes off ‘ — how did your appointment with Rick d’Agostino go?’
If she hadn’t been looking for it, she probably wouldn’t have seen the way his whole body seemed to grow unnaturally still…almost like prey sensing the presence of a hunter. And yet what possible danger could such a question pose?
Unless…
Unless, after examining all the results, the orthopaedic surgeon had given Gregor bad news at the end of his appointment?
Had he had to tell him that there was little more that could be done for him, surgically or otherwise, or was there something else…?
‘It was a relatively short appointment today,’ Gregor volunteered, his tone fa
r too casual. ‘Just the last of the nerve-conduction tests.’
‘So, when will you get the results? Were you given any idea?’ Olivia was certain that there was a secret sub-text to this conversation — one to which she hadn’t been given the code.
‘I’ve made another appointment for tomorrow morning. Rick’s going to fit me in between his other patients,’ he said tersely.
It was only when she realised that he must have guessed that she would agree to cover another shift in the morning that she suddenly understood what was going on. Gregor didn’t want her to go with him when he went to see the orthopaedic surgeon for the results, so he’d made it as unlikely as possible for her to be able to accompany him without letting her A and E colleagues down.
Gregor felt sick when he saw the way Livvy’s expression changed and knew she’d realised that he didn’t want her to go with him to his next appointment.
It wasn’t true, exactly, because he would love to have her there with him; craved the support he knew she would give unstintingly. But that was also the reason why he couldn’t have her there, because if it was bad news, he knew she would be determined to stick by him, no matter how disastrous that would be for her own life and happiness.
He couldn’t allow that.
The last two years had been hellish, between not knowing who he was and feeling so utterly powerless, but that was nothing compared to the way he felt about the situation now that his memory had returned. He couldn’t describe how he felt, being back with Livvy, the love of his life, but if the results tomorrow were bad, there was no way that his pride would let him be a burden on such a giving, caring woman.
Livvy deserved better. She deserved the chance to start a new life with a man who could give her everything she wanted — a whole, healthy husband and the chance to begin the family they’d been talking about starting, just before he’d gone away. She deserved a second chance to marry the man her parents had always known would be the best husband for her.
Her Long-Lost Husband Page 9