* * *
She still felt a little tired. Her eyes had been so heavy the night before and they were no different this morning. It was out of character for her to be this exhausted and if it continued, she decided she would have some blood work done. It had been a struggle to get through the day and she’d slept so soundly when her head had hit the pillow. This level of tiredness had occurred once before and it had been anaemia. An iron supplement, spinach or red meat, she decided, might be the order of the day until her count was back up again.
Sara rolled on her back, drawing in a deep breath before she slowly exhaled. In silence, she studied the pattern of the pressed iron ceiling, not really seeing it. The night before had been as enlightening as it had been frustrating. The conversation they had shared had been the most honest they had ever been with each other. Tom had finally opened up to her, and she assumed he found it easier now they were close to finalising the divorce. It was too late for both of them and perhaps it made it less painful for him. She knew his deepest secret but was almost powerless to sway him to choose with his heart. His misguided conscience had ruled his head for far too long.
‘Hello...anyone awake?’
Sara jumped at the sound of Tom’s voice from the other side of the wall.
‘I’m awake and just getting up,’ she called back loudly.
‘I made breakfast. I’ve just eaten mine but I have some for you if you’d like to unlock the door. The key’s on the dresser.’
Sara had noticed the internal door that linked the two homes but assumed it had been locked for years. She climbed from bed and searched the dresser.
‘Not here, I’m afraid,’ she called back, slightly pleased there was no key and no way for Tom to be in her bedroom.
‘Try the top drawer on the left, it might be in there.’
Sara sighed. He wasn’t giving up. How did he know where everything was? She decided not to think too much of it. He was an organised person. She pulled the drawer open and found a neat stack of men’s summer T-shirts. She assumed they were Tom’s. Then she felt at the bottom of the drawer and found a set of keys.
‘Got them.’ She couldn’t lie. She also had to let him in. With reservations, Sara unlocked the door and opened it to see Tom, still in his dressing gown, smiling at her with a breakfast tray held high. She stepped back, allowing him to enter.
‘After the last fall Mrs Vanderbilt had, just before she had to be admitted to the nursing home, she wanted to know I could get through to help in an emergency. So she gave me the key,’ he said. ‘Made her feel more secure knowing she had someone close by to help in an emergency.’
It didn’t give Sara anywhere near the same feeling as she eyed the doorway suspiciously. Her version of ground rules for their working relationship did not extend to her soon-to-be-ex-husband being able to access her bedroom day and night. It may have been a comforting thought for Mrs Vanderbilt but it was definitely was not a comforting thought for her.
‘Anyway, I thought you might like this to start the day.’ He crossed the room and placed a tray of hot coffee and a piece of toast on the bedside table. ‘Don’t want you feeling bad on your day off because I kept you up talking way too late last night.’
Feeling chilly, Sara climbed back into bed and pulled the covers up.
Tom was feeling anxious about the conversation they’d shared and he wanted to see firsthand that in the light of day Sara accepted his decision was not negotiable. Her newfound knowledge of the reason why he would not consider having children would never change it. His mind was made up. He took full responsibility for the accident and equally the end of his brother’s marriage.
There was no other way to see it. And nothing she could say would change anything.
‘You have a full day of surgery tomorrow, so rest up.’ He walked over to open the curtains and thought better of it. ‘Maybe we’ll leave these closed and you can stay in bed for a while after breakfast. Take your time and read a book or something.’
‘Tom,’ Sara began, ‘about last night.’
‘Sara, let’s not go there,’ he said, turning back to face her. ‘I said what I should have told you before we married. It was my fault for thinking children wouldn’t be an issue. We never talked seriously about having them or not having them. I guess I assumed being just the two of us for ever would be okay with you. No doubt you, on the other hand, thought I would warm to the idea of having kids. It’s my fault completely for rushing you to the altar.’
Sara’s lips curved to a melancholy smile. It had been a crazy courtship. She had been excited and had never really thought too far ahead. She had been marrying the man she loved. The man she admired and respected and thought would naturally be the father of her children.
‘I’m sad that now I know the truth I still can’t change your mind, Tom. I think you would be the most wonderful father and I feel certain that you and Heath could work through everything if only you would speak with your brother. Tell him how you feel and see how he feels. He may have no idea that you are still carrying this guilt. He may even have moved on and assumed you’ve done the same. I know he would want you to be happy.’
‘And I want you to be happy, Sara. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, but talking to my brother won’t change anything. What’s done is done.’
Tom swallowed hard and asked her to leave the subject alone. He was glad he had finally opened up but he didn’t want to go over the past any more. Sara just had to accept his decision and he would accept her decision to each travel a different path. He wanted with all of his heart for the ending to be different but it couldn’t be. They might be heading in opposite directions but there were another few weeks yet to spend together and that made him happy in a bittersweet way. He leant down and helped to plump up her pillow before he picked up the breakfast tray and placed it on her lap.
‘I’ll get ready and head off to the hospital, but you should enjoy your day off. I have lectures all day at the university and then marking to do at the hospital tonight so I’ll be late home and probably won’t see you till tomorrow. Oh, and by the way, the local grocery store down the road is still there. You might like to stock the fridge if you’re low on anything. Still the same old family business it was when you were here and they still make the best rock cakes ever.’
Tom smiled and left the room the way he had come in, shutting the door behind him. He felt like a weight had lifted from him. Although he also recognised that when Sara did move on, marry and have a family, it would be difficult to stay in contact. The thought of her waking in another man’s arms and sharing a life with her new husband and children would be too much for him to handle.
* * *
While Sara sat and ate her breakfast she tried to process all that Tom had told her. After a night to think about it, she felt no less frustrated. At least she now knew the man she had married a little better. She knew now that Tom wasn’t selfish. In fact, he was a man of great principles. Although principles wouldn’t keep him warm at night or throw their arms around his neck when they came rushing home from school. He was certainly sacrificing a lot for his brother.
Short of a miracle and Tom seeing the light, there wasn’t a lot she could do but accept Tom’s decision. Thankfully the day went by smoothly. She had made a few phone calls and organised for some of the boxes of clothes she had packed for Texas to be forwarded to Melbourne. She walked down to the local grocer’s and stocked the refrigerator and pantry, picking up some rock cakes as well.
Sara left one in a bag by Tom’s front door.
She spent the afternoon with her feet up, reading through some notes for the next day’s surgical cases. Then she watched some daytime television, cooked an omelette for dinner and soaked in a long bubble bath.
Once she was snug back in her own pyjamas, she locked the door between the adjoining houses, slipped back under the covers a
nd drifted into a restful sleep.
* * *
On Friday she arrived early at the hospital. She had a long day’s surgical list. The morning was filled with two of Tom’s private patients. The afternoon with Stu’s. They were all straightforward and she was keen to start. That evening she had an appointment at the practice with George and his mother, so she wanted to get away on time.
There was a break at around one, between lists, so Sara went up to the doctors’ lounge to close her eyes and put her feet up for a bit.
‘Hello, Sara.’
Sara opened her eyes to see Tom standing in front of her. ‘Hi, there, stranger,’ she managed in a cool tone. ‘On your lunch break?’
He sat down. ‘No, I’ve finished up for the day. It’s the first day of the mid-year break for the students so no lectures or rotations to organise for the rest of the week. Although I’m not a great believer in the current lecture model anyway,’ he announced with a frustrated sigh. ‘I think we need to bring changes to medical student education, bring it up to speed by actually reducing the number of lectures.’
Sara could see he felt quite passionate about this subject. ‘Go on,’ she urged him, as she sipped her chocolate milk.
He turned and faced her. She couldn’t help but notice his eyes light up as he spoke. He was so animated. She remembered he always was when he felt strongly about something. ‘Let’s face it, there have been huge changes in the world of medicine but medical education has remained the same. We’re in a time warp and I don’t think we’re keeping up with student needs or expectations. There’s been growth in information and research in all facets of medicine. Yet we keep delivering the traditional lecture style of teaching, despite class attendance falling and complaints that we’re failing to produce compassionate, well-trained medicos.’
Sara nodded, agreeing with Tom’s valid argument for change.
‘We need to make better use of the time we’re given to train doctors. I’d like to see lecture content delivered differently. Perhaps in short videos that are watched by the students in their own time, and as often as they need, to ensure they grasp the concepts and really understand the material. Class time is then freed up for focusing on patients’ clinical stories as a way to apply this medical information.’
Sara was impressed as always with Tom’s knowledge and passion. She knew his new role as associate professor was well deserved. He was no doubt going to make a difference at the hospital. She only wished she could be there to see the changes he made and the real outcomes for the students and the patients. She was so proud of the man she’d married and the man, she knew in her heart, she would always love.
‘And now I will climb down from my soapbox,’ he said with a laugh, sitting back a little and relaxing. ‘I have papers to assess but other than that this week is a good one for me. I get to take a breather.’
‘Some people get all the luck,’ Sara sighed. ‘I’ve got a full list for Stu and then an appointment back at the practice at about seven.’
‘What if I assist?’ Tom suggested, as he sat upright again and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Then you can get through it even quicker.’
Sara considered Tom’s suggestion for a moment. In the past, working with Tom had always been the highlight of her day. Watching the skill of the man who had inspired her and taught her so much had always been an honour, so with a nod of her head she agreed to share the operating theatre for one last time. She knew she hadn’t forgotten his operating style—in fact, it was almost hers. He had been the best teacher and mentor she could have asked for as a student. If she wanted to move past their lives as husband and wife and begin again as colleagues, she needed to start now.
‘I’d like that.’ She smiled.
* * *
Sara was ready and waiting in Theatre when Tom appeared in the scrub room.
‘Afternoon, people,’ he said, as he crossed to the operating table. He looked down at the teenage boy who was at this stage already a little groggy. ‘I bet you’re feeling more than a bit nervous, Matt, but listen, mate, there’s absolutely nothing to worry about. During the surgery we’re going to bring that jaw of yours into a respectable position, and while we’re at it reshape your chin a bit. You won’t be able to keep the girls away after we’ve finished with you. But don’t worry, before you leave the hospital we’ll provide you with a large stick to beat them away!’
Sara smiled to herself. He was incorrigible. But that was part of his charm.
She loved the way he communicated so naturally with patients of any age. He never played the academic with his patients. He was so down to earth. She also noticed that in Theatre she was an equal. He paid her no special attention.
‘Any questions before we start?’ he asked. ‘That’s not just from you, Matt. Any questions from the crew?’
They all shook their heads as they went about their respective jobs within the operating theatre.
‘Okay, Matt, you’re off to sleep, mate. See you in a few hours.’
The anaesthetist took over and Matt drifted out of consciousness.
Sara and Tom worked well together. Neither had changed their approach to the operation and four skilled hands made it a relatively easy procedure.
Sara screwed the first titanium plate in place.
‘Damn, I taught you well,’ Tom commented light-heartedly to Sara, but all the while appreciating her level of skill. He felt a sense of pride as he watched her dexterity with the complex surgical procedure.
She smiled but didn’t raise her eyes. They completed fifteen minutes ahead of time. Tom left promptly to read up on the next patient.
The entire afternoon went as smoothly. Working with Tom, Sara remembered why she had chosen oral and maxillofacial surgery as her specialty. She had watched his fingers perform magic in the operating theatre and she had been mesmerised. Not just by the tall, handsome tutor—it was his talent and love of his work that had inspired her to follow the same path.
They finished the last of the patients around five-thirty, which gave Sara plenty of time to change, pick up something to eat and be at the practice to meet with the other post-operative patients before George arrived. She crossed her fingers that George would show up and be prepared to listen to the other boys.
As she buttoned up her coat, her mobile phone began ringing.
‘Hello, Sara Fielding.’
‘Sara, it’s Marjorie. I’m afraid I have some bad news.’
Sara frowned as she slipped her hair behind her ear to hear better. ‘What is it, Marjorie?’
‘Both boys who were coming along to talk to George. They’ve cancelled.’
‘What, both of them?’
‘Yes, apparently some heavy steel band, Slayer, I think she called them, has stayed on in Melbourne for a second concert and they’re going. Neither were prepared to miss out.’
Sara collapsed back into the chair despondently. ‘They’re a heavy metal band, but what am I going to do now? If I don’t have those boys there by seven o’clock, George will never agree to his surgery. Stu’s patient will be living on a sheep station in the middle of nowhere by this time next week.’
Sara knew there was only one other person who could convince George to go ahead with the surgery. That would be Tom. She had wanted so desperately to handle the practice on her own and to prove that she was capable and had the capacity to deal with any issues that arose. But George had already shown signs of disapproving of her. More than likely, it was the general dismissive attitude of a sixteen-year-old boy. His mother had been on the receiving end too, as Sara had witnessed firsthand.
Sara knew this was no time for pride. This was Stu’s patient and she needed to exhaust all avenues before she accepted that George would cancel his surgery, a decision she knew for certain he would regret as an adult.
Sara had onl
y an hour and a quarter now to be at the practice. There was no point turning up alone. George would not listen to her.
Sara dialled Tom’s mobile. George might listen to a man. Sometimes teenage boys thought more of another male’s opinion. And Tom certainly had a way with patients. It was worth trying.
She wasn’t sure if Tom was still in the hospital or if he had left.
Damn, he had switched his phone to voice mail. Sara left a message and asked him to meet her at the practice. She briefly explained the situation and its urgency because of George’s plans to move up north to the sheep station. She hoped he would make it in time.
She grabbed her case and rushed out to the lift. With her head down, and in a hurry, she turned the corner and almost ran straight into Johnson.
‘That was close,’ he said, smiling. ‘Almost déjà vu! Seems like you’re in a hurry this time.’
‘You have no idea. I don’t have a spare minute. I’ve got a surgical patient due in a little over an hour at the practice—’
‘But that’s only fifteen minutes from here,’ he cut in, reaching down to pick up her briefcase. ‘You don’t have to rush, unless of course you haven’t eaten, then I suppose you would need the extra time, but there’s a hospital cafeteria—’
‘Johnson,’ Sara cut in tersely, ‘I’m afraid I don’t even know your first name.’
‘Nigel.’
‘Thank you, Nigel,’ Sara said, more than a little anxious about the unfolding situation. ‘But I need to find Dr Fielding.’
‘He’s up in the lecture theatre, tidying up, I think. If you don’t know where that is, I can show you.’
‘That’d be great.’
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