Stirring up old feelings again would only delay the inevitable. Even if they rekindled their love, she would leave and turn his life upside down all over again for the very same reason.
Marjorie walked in from the kitchen. ‘I’ve put the kettle on. Will you both have a cup of tea or coffee?’
‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ Sara answered hurriedly.
‘Not for me,’ Tom replied. ‘I was just leaving. I’m needed back at the hospital—it was just a quick visit.’ His sentence was cut short when the door opened. Tom took this cue and left. It had been a short visit, with no purpose other than to spend a few minutes with Sara. He knew he couldn’t change their fate. The divorce would seal that but he had a month to enjoy her company, as a doctor he admired and a woman he desired. He was torturing himself just being near her, but he was unable to stop.
* * *
Sara watched him leave then turned her attention to a boy in his late teens and the older woman who had entered the office.
‘George, Mrs Andrews,’ Marjorie greeted them cheerily. ‘Please, take a seat. Dr Fielding, I mean Sara, will be right with you.’
‘Where’s Dr Anderson?’ George asked anxiously. The metal braces on his teeth caught the light. ‘Isn’t he seeing me today?’
Sara stepped forward. ‘No, George. Dr Anderson won’t be seeing you today,’ she began. ‘He had to spend some time with his family. His little girl isn’t very well and he asked me to step in and look after you and all of his patients. I’ll be carrying out your operation.’
George had looked a little anxious when he walked in but now his worries seemed to escalate to distress. Surgery for anyone was a stressful time but Sara was aware that for an adolescent it was doubly so.
‘Don’t worry, George,’ Sara told him. ‘I won’t do anything without first explaining it to you and if you have any questions, please, ask me. In a moment we’ll go and take some moulds of your teeth, which will be sent off to a lab. The technician will use these moulds to make a special splint, called a wafer, and I will use this to position your jaws during surgery. I’m sure you’ve had impressions before.’
The boy nodded but his expression was guarded.
‘I know they’re a bit mucky but they don’t hurt. Your orthodontist has put special pins in your braces in preparation for this. We call them high hats, and they make it easier for me to do my job.’
‘Yeah, and they stick out a bit,’ George complained, and pulled his lips down over the braces.
‘How long will it take today?’ Mrs Andrews cut in.
‘Not very long at all,’ Sara replied, turning her attention to the woman. ‘You’re most welcome to come in.’
‘I’m not a child, Mum,’ George growled. ‘Just wait out here.’
Mrs Andrews raised her eyebrows and sat down. She clearly knew it was pointless to argue with a teenager. Sara smiled to herself. She doubted that George’s bravado would hold up just prior to surgery. Then without doubt he would want his mother close by.
‘Well, let’s go and get started,’ Sara said, and led George off towards the consulting room. Marjorie followed closely behind, leaving Mrs Andrews sifting through the magazines. The appointment didn’t take much longer than twenty minutes. George didn’t ask too many questions but with a mouthful of impression material that would have been difficult. After the impressions were checked by Sara, then packed and taken to Reception to be collected by the laboratory courier, Sara asked Mrs Andrews to come in.
Sara clipped the X-rays onto the wall viewer and studied them for a moment. ‘Are there any questions?’
‘Are there lots of guys with this problem?’ George asked, rubbing his very pronounced lower jaw.
‘Guys and girls,’ Sara reassured him. ‘You have what we call a skeletal class-three malocclusion. This means that your lower jaw is forward in relation to your upper jaw. I’m sure Dr Anderson has gone over this with you but it happened because your mandible, or lower jaw, has grown more than your upper. It’s a case of one didn’t grow enough and the other grew too much.’
‘So you’re going to pull my jaw back?’
‘Not exactly.’ Sara looked at the X-ray viewer, where a profile of George’s skull was illuminated. ‘You have a skeletal discrepancy. So Dr Anderson had planned on surgery to advance the upper jaw.’ Sara pointed to the relevant facial features on the X-ray as she spoke. She moved the tiny mouth ruler she used as a pointer down to the lower jaw area as she continued. ‘And set back the lower jaw. Just think of your lower jaw coming back and your upper jaw moving forward about the same amount until they sort of meet halfway and then surgery on your chin to make it a little less angular or severe.’
‘I think I kind of get it,’ George said. ‘But I told Dr Anderson that I didn’t like my nose much and he said he could fix that too.’
Sara thought it best to keep clear of decisions that were purely cosmetic. ‘George, I think it’s best if you and the family make that decision at home. Just call Marjorie next week if you want me to proceed with a rhinoplasty at the same time—that’s the name we give to the nose operation.’
‘But what do you think?’ George asked, giving unexpected value to Sara’s opinion on the matter.
Sara was flattered that he had asked her but she had to remain impartial. ‘To be honest, George, it is a cosmetic improvement and therefore has to be a family decision. No surgeon can tell you what you should or shouldn’t look like when it comes to nose shape or chin shape.’
‘But if he was your son, what would you advise us to do?’ George’s mother asked.
Sara was taken aback by the question. If he was my son? She stared down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. If I ever have a son, she thought, I would want only the best for him. I would want him to grow into a strong, perceptive individual just like Tom. Her stomach tightened a little at her reaction. Day one and Tom Fielding had safely tucked himself into her subconscious. Just where she didn’t need him.
She swallowed as she looked at Mrs Andrews and George, then thoughtfully she answered, ‘I wouldn’t rush into any surgery on a whim. I would think it through, discuss it at home and be very sure it was something George felt very strongly about undertaking.’
She blinked away her other thoughts. It was going to be long month in Melbourne.
Sara switched off the X-ray viewer, slipped the X-rays inside the case notes and then escorted the young man and his mother back into the waiting room.
‘Sara, your nine-thirty appointment, Mollie Hatcher, is here,’ Marjorie said as the three approached the front desk.
Sara remembered reading Mollie’s referral notes and when the child smiled nervously, Sara could see the large fleshy membrane that ran between her front teeth, giving her a gap large enough to hold a gold coin. The referring doctor had recommended a frenectomy to remove it, and even before the consultation, Sara had judged that to be the right treatment plan.
Looking over the medical history, Sara ushered in the little girl and her mother.
It was another half hour consultation, which ended with Mrs Hatcher booking a time for Mollie’s minor surgery in the rooms the following week.
The day continued, with Sara seeing a steady load of Stu’s patients. Most of them were new patient referrals and there were three post-operative check-ups. Tom had stepped in to cover Stu’s consulting role at the hospital and Sara would be picking up Tom’s private patients. It was a sensible arrangement for the weeks ahead.
She knew the next day it would be Tom’s patients and a minor surgical list in the afternoon. Both men were professional and skilled surgeons and Sara hadn’t disagreed with any treatment plan either had suggested for their patients. She knew the next day would be no exception. When it came to work, that was the one area that she and Tom would never come to loggerheads. He had taught her well and she would ne
ver doubt his decision. His knowledge as a consultant and his dexterity as a surgeon were second to none.
Sara was quietly honoured he had approved her stepping into the practice that he had built over many years and had then invited Stu to join. And she was pleased to be doing it without any intervention from him. He did trust her. From someone with a reputation of being one of the finest surgeons in the country, that was a huge accolade for her.
It was about six o’clock when Sara realised she had done nothing about accommodation. She would have to spend another night at the hotel and then tomorrow she had to organise something else.
Marjorie said goodnight, locked up and left for the day. Sara was tidying up the last of the case notes when she heard a key in the front door. It didn’t take her long to realise who it was.
‘I’m in the office, Tom. Just a few bits and pieces to tidy up.’
She heard his footsteps draw nearer and looked up to find him framed in the doorway. His face was a little drawn but still unbelievably handsome. His jaw was darkened by the first signs of fine stubble.
‘I’m here to take you home.’
‘That’s very sweet of you,’ Sara remarked. ‘But I’ve already booked a taxi to my hotel.’
Tom crossed the room in silence. His dark eyes didn’t stray from her face for a moment. ‘I wasn’t talking about the hotel, Sara. I’m taking you to our home.’
CHAPTER FIVE
SARA WAS STUNNED into silence.
She swallowed a lump of emotions that had converged in her throat. Our home. There was no ‘our’ anything any more. She chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek. What on earth was Tom thinking? She felt herself falling into the deep, grey eyes that were focused solely upon her. She wanted to pull away, she had to, but she couldn’t pull away far enough. Her gaze dropped only to his wide, soft mouth.
A mouth that her heart could suddenly remember giving her the most tender of kisses. Sara felt so confused. Confused about her own feelings. Even more confused about Tom’s. She thought they had set the parameters. She was not about to move back in with him on either a short-term or long-term basis.
Did he think by her staying in Melbourne that she would throw away her new life and come back to him? He must know after their talk the night before that she wouldn’t back down. She wanted children, and it was not negotiable. Then was he looking for another few nights of passion for old times’ sake? She couldn’t, and she wouldn’t allow him to change her plans. Her mind had to take over. Calculated logic had to kick in. She had to control her body’s desire for him. If she didn’t, Sara was terrified of where it all might lead. Heartbreak, no doubt, for both of them.
‘There is no our any more, Tom.’
‘You can call it my house if it makes you feel any better.’
‘It does,’ she returned. ‘Because it’s the truth. I don’t belong in Melbourne. I don’t have any ties here any more.’ Sara closed the file of paperwork she was completing.
‘I’m just trying to help,’ he argued. ‘Unless, of course, you’d rather pay for accommodation at the hotel for the next month.’
‘So moving in with you is the best solution? I hardly think so.’
‘Not with me exactly. The other half of the maisonette, the part that belonged to Mrs Vandercroft, is now mine. She moved into a nursing home only a month after you...’ Tom hesitated, not wanting to make her feel that he was blaming her for their separation.
‘Well, just after we parted, so I bought it. You remember how she had one or two falls, well, they increased and finally she really injured herself on a coffee table she just didn’t see. Her eyesight was failing, and she was unsteady on her feet. Her family didn’t want her living alone any more and, as you know, they all lived interstate. Anyway, she had just turned ninety-eight and didn’t want to haul herself up to Sydney so she moved into a nursing home not too far away. I just use the place for storage, so you can have it for the month. I was going to offer it to the locum anyway. I had no idea it would be you.’
Sara considered him suspiciously then felt a little silly for overreacting. Perhaps it was an offer with no strings. After all, he had signed the divorce papers. And he had an empty place.
She shook herself mentally. He definitely appeared to have his emotions in check.
‘Well, does this silence mean you’re considering my offer?’ he asked, jolting her out of her thoughts.
Sara closed her eyes for a split second. She had no logical argument for refusing his offer. Only her irrational thoughts. Against her better judgement she made a decision and prayed for everyone’s sake that she was doing the right thing.
‘I suppose it’s a sensible idea.’
But even as the words passed over her lips, weighty doubts rang alarm bells loudly in her mind. But that was her problem, not his.
Tom smiled. He knew their time together would be short-lived but apart from the great love life they had shared, he enjoyed spending time with Sara. He always had. She challenged him. She was his equal on so many levels. He just wanted a few more weeks with her and then he knew he would let her go. Let her start her new life and not make her think twice about her decision. He hoped this time when she left it might be easier. He hoped his heart wouldn’t shatter this time.
As they pulled into the driveway Sara felt a tightening in her chest. They had collected her things from the hotel and made their way to his home about twenty minutes from the city. It was a corner property in a suburb filled with double-fronted cottages and bungalows.
Lit by the headlights of the car, the house looked the same as it did the day she had left. It had been one of the hardest days of her life. She had walked away from her home and her marriage, even though she had still been very much in love with her husband.
The cream stucco walls and shiny gunmetal-grey roof with green gutters hadn’t changed. She and Tom had planned to have the front facade steamed-cleaned to reveal the bluestone lying beneath the thick paint but their schedules had never given them the time. It had been something they’d always put off, thinking they had plenty of time in the future.
The roses were in bloom, the way they had been that day in June three years ago. Huge open cabbage roses in deep reds and pastel pinks lined the gravel path to the front door.
Tears welled in the back of her eyes and threatened to spill over.
‘Let me get that,’ Tom said, as Sara reached into the boot of his late-model Lexus. Their hands touched as they tried to retrieve her luggage. His soft skin brushed against hers. Sara released her hold on the bag immediately and turned away. His touch was unsettling.
‘I’ve got a key for you somewhere in my pocket,’ he told her, as he closed the boot and followed behind her, his footsteps crunching on the gravel all the way up to the front door.
Sara’s mind was anywhere but in the present and she struggled to keep on track.
‘Here it is.’ He handed her a key chained to a small crystal slipper. It was the one she had bought when they’d first moved into the house. She couldn’t believe he had kept it all this time.
‘You know, I always thought this was a little kitsch considering your good taste.’
She held the keyring in her open palm and stared at it in silence.
She remembered back to the day she had bought it. It had been the day before they’d left Prague, where they had spent three days of their four-week honeymoon. Strolling along a cobbled street, they had stumbled upon a little shop that was filled with the most beautiful crystal. Sara had spied the slipper and had known she had to have it. Tom had wanted to buy a beautifully cut crystal vase but she bought the slipper, never telling him the reason.
It was because their romance had been like a fairy-tale. Having the crystal keyring ensured she was never going to lose her keys, or her Prince Charming. But she knew better than to te
ll Tom. The logical man that he was, he never would have understood. His diagnosis would have been to tell her she was completely crazy.
Of course, he could have no idea what she was going through now. The memories, the guilt of leaving, it all came flooding back and she wanted so desperately to fall into his arms and pretend that the three years they spent apart were all a bad dream. But she couldn’t. Standing there together, she knew she still did have strong feelings for him but that they weren’t enough to build a life upon. She wanted more and she knew she had every right to ask for more.
‘It’s getting mighty cold, standing here while you admire the keyring, Sara.’
Sara looked up and him and wished she could brush aside her feelings and offer a witty retort, but she couldn’t. She had agreed in the car on the way home that they would eat their takeaway dinner together, but suddenly she felt too fragile to honour her promise. The house, the keyring, they had brought too many memories to the surface and she needed time alone to sort through these feelings and put them away. Time without Tom.
‘I’m sorry,’ she began, rubbing her temples in a circular motion, ‘but I have this splitting headache. Would you mind terribly if we didn’t have dinner together? I wouldn’t be very good company.’
Tom considered her for a moment in the soft light from the streetlamp. She felt that his silence hinted at disbelief but he didn’t confirm it with his words.
‘Of course not,’ he finally uttered, and handed her the box with her dinner inside.
Sara graciously took the warm package and unlocked the front door then felt along the wall for the light switch.
‘I’ll call over if I need anything,’ she called back, before wheeling her luggage inside and closing the door on the cold night air. And on Tom. She just wished her heart could do the same.
The maisonette was the reverse floor plan of the one that she and Tom had shared next door. Dropping her case to the floor, Sara’s steps echoed down the polished hallway as she made her way into the sitting room.
Back in Her Husband's Arms Page 6