* * *
Refreshments were served in an adjoining reception hall. Margie took Toby over, setting up an impromptu play area for the littlies in the corner of the hall. Toby was obviously delighted to see his friends. One of the nurses made her way to Beth, pushing a wheelchair, and Beth was able to sink into it and be as she needed to be—the centre of loved attention.
For the locals loved her. Luc could see it, not just in the way so many were waiting their turn to speak to her but in the way so many gazes gravitated to her. There was community concern and quiet love.
Dr Beth Carmichael had found herself a life in this community. She was as loved and respected as Ron had been.
What had she said? One and a half doctors between the two of them. They’d been so much more. He could see that.
‘She can’t come back.’ The harsh words came from behind him. He turned and Maryanne Clarkson was at his shoulder. This woman was now Namborra’s only doctor and she looked grim.
He’d been impressed with her the day of the crash. She’d been unflappable as well as competent. He’d been in the small hospital only briefly that night, but in the midst of chaos of multiple injuries he’d noted her triage system, her fast implementation of rules and the way the staff moved to her command.
Not a lot of emotion, though, he’d thought, which was good in an emergency, but now, looking at her grim expression, he thought that same lack might be a downside.
‘Excuse me?’ He was balancing a lamington and a mug of tea and watching Beth at the same time. She seemed okay. She was even laughing at something someone had said.
She seemed...at home.
‘She can’t stay here,’ Maryanne told him, following his gaze. ‘At least, not to work. I’ll tell her if I must, but I gather you’re her friend. It might be kinder if you do.’
Beth had already told him she wouldn’t be able to work here but he didn’t fully understand. ‘Why can’t she stay here?’
‘I can’t work with a disabled doctor.’
There was a table behind him. He turned and set down his tea so he could face the middle-aged doctor square on.
‘Disabled?’
‘She can’t see.’
‘She can see.’
‘Her vision’s six/sixty. That’s legally blind.’
‘Without glasses. With glasses or contact lenses, she’s fine.’
‘She’s not fine. She told me when she applied for the job here. She has trouble distinguishing colour in low light, and if she loses her glasses...’ She took a deep breath. ‘The day of the crash...look at the victims. Every one of them was over sixty. And Beth was almost there, too. She wouldn’t have been able to see grey pillars crumpling. She wouldn’t...’
‘Have been able to run with a toddler in her arms, all the way out of the car park while the roof caved in almost the instant the plane hit? Neither would you.’
‘I would have had a better chance and you know it. It was one thing when we had the two of them backing each other up. Together she and Ron convinced the board they could manage. They did manage,’ she conceded, ‘but alone she can’t and I won’t take the risks they both did in covering each other. The hospital’s liable if she messes something up.’
She paused and looked across at Beth. ‘Look at her now. It’ll take months for her to get back on her feet. She’s already had to take time off when her child was born and as he’s copped normal childhood illnesses. She’s had Ron to help her but now... You think I can wear that?’
He was staring at her, stunned by her coldness. ‘For a competent colleague. For a friend? Yes, I can. Bad things happen to all of us, Dr Clarkson.’
‘Yes, and colleagues support when support’s needed,’ Maryanne snapped. ‘Until whoever it is accepts their limitations are long term and chooses a more suitable role. Which isn’t here. I was against hiring the pair of them, and look at them now. One’s dead and one’s even more disabled than when she started.’
‘That’s not their fault.’
‘And it’s not my fault either and it’s not going to be. I can’t spend my time worrying about her.’
‘You don’t have a choice. She’s been cleared by the medical board as fit for practice. How many employment laws are you breaking?’
‘I’m not breaking any. I’m simply saying I can’t work with her, so if she chooses to return she’ll be on her own. You think she can cope, with the load she’s carrying?’ She gave a grim nod as if the conversation was ended, as indeed it was. ‘So there it is. Tell her she needs to look elsewhere for a less demanding job. You tell her—or I will.’
* * *
Then came another medical crisis, only not one he had to deal with. The head of the outback clinic was on the phone before he’d recovered his tea—and his equilibrium. ‘Mate, there’s been a car crash here. We’ll be sending the chopper straight to Sydney so we can’t pick you up this afternoon.’
‘That’s okay.’ He’d already factored this into his plans. A commercial flight, small but reliable, left every day at midday so they could stay in Beth’s apartment overnight.
And then he thought... Beth’s apartment was a hospital apartment.
It wouldn’t be hers for much longer.
And he watched her face as she talked on to the locals. He saw the rigid set of her smile as she was asked how long it would be before she was back for good, and he thought, She already knows it. She knows Maryanne, she’s worked with her for years so she’ll know exactly what she’s thinking. Maryanne was a competent doctor who wouldn’t bend the rules one bit, constantly looking over her shoulder for the bogie man of legal liability. For Beth she must be a nightmare.
Beth was starting to look exhausted. He headed over and told her what was happening with the plane, and she reacted almost with relief. It meant she could have time out in her apartment, rest—have space to come to terms with her lack of future here?
But first she needed to field invitations as the locals realised she was staying.
‘Sorry, guys.’ She was back on her crutches while Luc held a very sleepy Toby. ‘I...’ She glanced uncertainly at Luc. ‘We need a quiet night.’
‘How long do you think before you’ll be back for good?’ Margie asked directly, and Beth hesitated just a moment too long.
But then she managed a smile and he watched her shoulders brace. Moving on.
‘Who knows how long this leg needs to heal?’ she said lightly. ‘I’ll let you know.’
She gave Luc a bright smile that said clearly—Rescue me—and ten minutes later they were back in Beth’s cosy little apartment. Beth was putting Toby into his cot, reuniting him with toys he’d been missing, while Luc was pacing the apartment, wanting to punch something.
* * *
The anger stayed—but with it came confusion.
Sometime during the service things had cleared for him. Now...fog was creeping back.
Beth headed for the fridge and poured wine for herself, offered him a beer, settled thankfully into a massive armchair and surveyed him thoughtfully. Even with the broken leg she was a woman in charge of her domain, he thought.
Except she wasn’t, and it needed to be talked of. But first...the biggie. ‘Beth...what I said at the service...about marriage...’
‘Luc, that’s over.’ She met his gaze, calmly, almost challengingly. ‘It should never have resurfaced as an option. It only did because Toby was ill and neither of us were thinking. You don’t want to be married to me.’
Confusion deepened. Of course he wanted to be married to this amazing woman, but to hold her back...
How to say this? How to explain what he felt?
And what did he feel? How could he move forward from here? There were so many conflicting emotions.
‘Beth, I don’t want you to have to accept that you need me. Because I’m looking at you now...’<
br />
‘Yeah, folded into an armchair because I’ve been tottering about on a broken leg...’
‘That’s not what I mean. Beth, somehow you’ve turned into someone amazing. Only maybe that’s not true. I’m starting to think you’ve been amazing all along.’ He was struggling here, trying to see inside him. Trying to sort fact from emotion.
‘I know I coddled you but you flew the coop and, hey, you knew how to fly all along. You’re a competent, practising doctor. You’re a great mum. The locals here clearly adore you. With or without Ron, you’ve made a success of your life. Today...when you stood up and talked about Ron there wasn’t a dry eye in the house but it wasn’t just about Ron. It was about you. Until one tragic plane crash, you had your life under control and it will be again.’
She didn’t respond. She met his gaze, her chin slightly tilted. Defiant?
How hard was all this to work out? How hard was it to say? But somehow he forced himself to continue. ‘Beth, I would care for you,’ he told her. ‘I know that about myself. But I also know I’ll risk smothering you, and maybe Toby, too. And I get it. I talked to Maryanne after the service and she’s told me how she can’t accept your disabilities. She’s one cold woman. There’s a part of me that wants to really tell her what I think of her, but there’s another part of me that wants to agree with her because all I want to do is take you back to Sydney and keep you in cotton wool. Which...’ He took a deep breath. ‘Which is not what you want. During the awfulness of the past weeks it might be what you’ve thought you needed but it’s not true into the future. Is it?’
‘No.’ Beth’s expression was still calm. Assessing. Watching how he was feeling rather than thinking about herself? ‘You’re right, Luc. For now... Who knows what I’ll do, but remarrying... I know I said maybe, but you’re right, I said it for the wrong reasons. It feels like admitting defeat. When Toby was ill that was how I felt, defeated, but now...’ She braced herself and tried to smile. ‘Wherever I go, I don’t need care twenty-four seven. You’ve been wonderful, Luc, as you’ve been in the past, but I don’t need...constant wonderful. I can’t keep needing.’
He was right, then. The thought gave him no joy.
This morning he’d accompanied Beth to Namborra and it had felt right. By some miracle Toby and Beth had been his to protect.
So what had changed? What was making him step back now?
It was because he loved her.
And he got it. In that one blinding moment of clarity, when she’d been on the stage, when she’d been talking to a community who loved her, he’d seen it.
She was wonderful, his Beth—except she wasn’t his because she didn’t need the restrictions he was bound to place on her life.
And she was smiling at him now, mistily, emotion front and centre, but he knew the smile said that he was right. The last weeks had thrown them back to a place that hadn’t suited either of them.
‘Can I help you fight to stay here? Can we face down Maryanne together? She’s well out of order.’ He was struggling to find his voice and practicalities seemed the only way to go.
Once again, asking her to need him?
But she shook her head. ‘It’s not possible. I thought of it when Ron had the flu last year and we faced the fact that he’d have to retire eventually.’ She still had her voice under control, but her eyes were a different matter. They were bright with unshed tears.
‘Maryanne’s seen my medical records—she actually accessed my past hospital records without asking, but that’s another story. She’s adamant I’m a risk. We had a car crash here a few months back—a nasty one. I had to crawl under and put in an IV line while the guys were stabilising the site. I cut myself on the way out, quite deep. Maryanne had to stitch me and she spent the entire time she stitched telling me the board couldn’t be responsible for my stupidity. The fact that the kid survived because of the line I put in, and anyone else going under there would have been under the same risk as I was, was irrelevant. But she’s threatened... If Ron’s not here to work—as my guide dog, that’s what she called him—she’s said she’ll leave.’
‘Of all the vicious...’
‘It’s not vicious. It’s pragmatic. She’ll walk because she can’t accept the responsibility.’
‘Sort of like the opposite of me,’ he said ruefully, and she managed a smile.
‘I guess. You need to be needed and Maryanne runs a mile. Or she makes me run a mile. Maryanne’s competent, hard working and she doesn’t have a child. She’s a much better bet for the town than I am.’
‘So the town’s stuck with one doctor instead of two.’
‘It’d be one and a half...’
‘You’re a whole lot more than half a doctor,’ he growled, and she even managed a chuckle.
‘Yeah, but you’re biased.’
‘Because I love you.’
‘As a friend, Luc,’ she said softly. ‘Please, from now on, that’s what it has to be.’
And he thought of what that meant. Tonight. Sleeping on the couch instead of holding Beth’s body. The sensation of loss was almost overwhelming.
‘Yeah, it sucks,’ she said, and he could see she knew what he was thinking. ‘But it’s the only way, Luc.’
‘I could...try to back off.’
‘And pigs could learn to fly.’ She sighed, her face bleak. ‘Luc, I need a rest. Would you mind...maybe wandering down to the supermarket and buying a couple of steaks for dinner? The pub will be packed with locals tonight and I don’t want to face them. I’ll come back here in a few weeks, when I’ve finished rehab, so I can pack up and say my goodbyes properly. But for the town, tonight should be all about those we lost, not about me.’
‘They’re losing you, too. And so am I.’ The desolation he felt was almost overwhelming.
‘Yeah, but the alternative is me losing me,’ she said, striving for lightness. ‘And that’s a whole heap worse.’
* * *
He headed off on his steak quest. Beth lay on the bed she’d slept in for the last few years and waited for exhaustion to do its job. To send her into oblivion for a couple of hours. She ached for time out.
It didn’t happen.
What had she done?
And where was her future?
It wasn’t here, in this cosy apartment she’d called home for the past few years.
She’d made herself a life here. She’d worked professionally, she’d had her baby and she’d felt a part of this community. But a part of her had always known it had to end. Ron had been nearing the point of retirement and Maryanne was a fixture. She and Ron had even joked about it—making an advertisement for a Ron replacement.
‘Wanted, three quarters of a doctor to hold up another three quarters of a doctor.’
‘Yeah, but we’ve been more than that,’ she muttered into the stillness. She and Ron had been an awesome team.
Grief was all around her, grief for Ron, the gentle, kindly man she’d called a friend for so long, grief that her time here was over...and grief, all over again, for a man called Luc.
‘I should never have slept with him,’ she muttered. ‘It’s made it so much worse.
‘It couldn’t be any worse.’ She was answering herself. ‘You’ve never fallen out of love with him. Couldn’t you just...learn to be dependent again? Let him take control?’
But she knew she couldn’t.
She imagined Toby, climbing trees, falling off skateboards, doing all the dumb things kids did as they grew. Would Luc let him take risks that all children had to take in order to turn into independent people?
‘It’ll never happen.’ She knew it but it didn’t make her decision less bleak. She took off her glasses and let the world blur.
‘I can move on,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.’
But if she let herself need Luc... How much easie
r...
‘Not going to happen,’ she said grimly into the silence, and she knew those four words were the final verdict.
CHAPTER NINE
‘SO, YOU AND LUC...’
‘Friends. Only friends.’
Rehab at Bondi Bayside was intense. There was little time for chat among those fighting to recover what they’d lost, or those learning to make the most of their new norms. Beth and Harriet fitted into a camp apiece. Beth’s leg was likely to recover to full use but Harriet was facing a lifetime of weakness.
This morning Harriet and Beth found themselves on the mats together, soft balls between their knees, raising their legs over and over.
Beth was getting better every day. Harriet was struggling.
If anyone else had asked personal questions Beth would have shrugged them off, but Harriet had become a friend. And maybe Harriet was facing long-term issues that almost mirrored Beth’s.
‘It must be strange, living with your ex-husband.’ Harriet was probing gently but Beth glanced across at her and saw the set of her face, the lines of entrenched pain as she raised and lowered her injured leg, and knew she was using Beth’s story to deflect thinking of what was starting to be obvious. That the damage to Harriet’s leg was permanent.
She knew by now that Harriet’s depression was bone deep. Coming to terms with disability...it sucked.
There was little Beth could do to help her but she could at least answer honestly.
‘It is weird,’ she admitted. ‘What’s between Luc and I...it’s been so intense it’s hard to step back, but we’re both trying.’ She tried for a smile. ‘He’s too good a friend to lose.’
‘He is that,’ Harriet said. ‘The whole team...they’re lovely. But if anything happened...between me and Pete... I don’t think we could ever be just friends.’
‘Yeah?’ Beth had her own views on Pete, aided by Luc’s harsh summary.
‘Pete’s lightweight. Harriet’s fallen hard but I can’t see Pete sticking round for the long haul. Where is he now? She’s injured and he’s not exactly playing the devoted spouse.’
Finding His Wife, Finding a Son Page 11