Dr. Carlisle's Child

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘Some will say enough is enough and we have to respect that, others will want us to do all we can. We have to respect that, too. But our first priority once a baby is born must be to that child. We, as doctors, have to be their advocates first and foremost, no matter how tough the going gets.’

  She took her seat, the applause continued, and Lucinda let out a huge sigh of relief. The presenter thanked her once again for stepping in and then called an end to the morning lectures.

  As Lucinda made her way to the bar her peers shook her hand and congratulated her but it was only Seb she wanted to see. Jeremy Foster, ever the optimist, appeared suddenly with two glasses of champagne.

  ‘You were fabulous. I thought you might like to celebrate.’

  And then Seb was beside her.

  ‘She was, wasn’t she?’ He kissed her cheek and, taking the glasses from a furious Jeremy, he handed one to Lucinda. ‘How thoughtful of you, Jeremy. Cheers.’

  They were still laughing about it as Lucinda waited in the foyer for her taxi.

  ‘You look nervous,’ Seb commented. ‘I thought you’d be relieved now it’s over.’

  ‘They…’ she gestured to the bar ‘…were a piece of cake compared to my parents.’

  Seb laughed. ‘They can’t be all that bad.’

  ‘You don’t know them.’

  Seb took a deep breath ‘Well, that’s easily solved.’

  ‘You mean…’ Her heart soared at the prospect of him joining her.

  ‘It will take me two minutes to pack. Tell the taxi to wait.’

  As the porter loaded their suitcases into the boot John McClelland came to say goodbye and congratulate Lucinda on her speech.

  ‘In all I would say it’s been a successful weekend,’ he said in a friendly voice as he shook her hand. ‘I’ll catch you later, Seb, and think seriously about what I said.’

  Seb gave him a brief nod and shook his hand. As they climbed into the taxi all thoughts of her lecture vanished as Lucinda contemplated the meeting ahead.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Seb squeezed her thigh reassuringly as she sat tensely next to him on the back seat. ‘It will only be for a couple of hours—our plane’s at two.’

  She turned her troubled eyes to him. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  Despite Lucinda’s hesitancy at introducing Seb to her parents, the initial meeting went well. Seb played along when Abigail insisted on kissing him on both cheeks and Richard patted him on the back like a long-lost son. He also didn’t look remotely embarrassed when Abigail kicked up the most terrible fuss at an extremely smart restaurant because she didn’t like the table, but Lucinda inwardly cringed.

  ‘Lucindah, what on earth have they been feeding you down there? My baby’s grown so big, hasn’t she, Richard?’

  Seb leant back in his chair. ‘Your “baby” has just delivered the most marvellous speech on micro-prems with only an hour’s notice. She was very impressive.’

  Abigail turned to Lucinda.

  ‘Where was the conference held again?’

  Lucinda felt her irritation rise—she had already told her mother three times in the hope they’d come and see her. ‘The Plaza.’

  ‘That’s right, I remember you telling me now. It’s very nice there. They have a new head chef there, poached from Romeo’s. The Merringtons are having their Christmas do there, I’m looking forward to it.’

  Lucinda felt her spirits sink. If she was so looking forward to testing the menu why couldn’t she have come down this weekend? Lucinda wondered, but, then, the Merringtons were important people, Lucinda reflected, while she was only their daughter.

  ‘So you’re an anaesthetist?’ Richard finally spoke.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Excellent. Where would we all be without a gas man?’ He laughed heartily at his stale joke, but Seb joined in.

  Abigail studied the menu carefully. ‘Everything’s fried, or with cream sauce,’ she said impatiently. ‘I’ll have to speak with the chef myself.’ She clicked her fingers at a passing waiter.

  ‘Mum, please, there’s plenty of choice. What about the barramundi in lime sauce? It sounds delicious.’

  ‘Is that what you’re having?’

  Lucinda nodded reluctantly, replacing the menu on the table.

  ‘Well, I’m going to have a huge roast with all the trimmings,’ Seb said loudly. ‘It is Sunday after all.’

  Richard chose a grilled flake and after the waiter had received his strict instruction about the salad dressing there was a sticky moment as Richard ordered the drinks.

  ‘We’d better make it two bottles. Is sparkling all right with you, Seb?’

  Seb nodded amicably. ‘Whatever everyone else is having.’

  ‘We’ll have two bottles of sparkling mineral water,’ Richard said to the waiter as he finally handed him back the menus.

  Seb called the waiter back as he gratefully departed from the difficult table.

  ‘I’ll have a beer, thanks,’ Seb said pointedly.

  Abigail again turned her attention to Lucinda.

  ‘Next time your professor has to go to a wedding and wants you to attend a conference, make sure it’s an international one. You need more exposure, Lucinda. You really ought to be pushing for some international experience. London would be good. Have you asked about a secondment yet?’

  ‘Mum, I’ve only been there five minutes, for goodness’ sake.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. This is no time to be resting on your laurels. Amanda Merrington has just been made Associate Professor, and she was in your year at medical school. Why do you think they’ve booked the Plaza for their Christmas do? So Phillip and Celeste can ram the happy news down everybody’s throats, that’s why. Mind you, she’s a dermatologist.’ She turned to Seb and shuddered visibly. ‘I couldn’t think of anything worse, could you? What a frightful job, looking at all those ugly skin rashes. Yuk.’

  To his credit Seb laughed. ‘I expect you see a few unpleasant sights in your job,’ he said with good humour, attempting to divert the conversation.

  But Abigail wasn’t going to be deflected. ‘Ah, but not for long. By the time I’ve finished with them they’re perfect. Now, Lucinda, as I was saying, you mustn’t let the grass grow under your feet. You need to get a few articles published—put your name to something, make a bit of noise.’

  Thankfully the meals arrived, which managed to stop Abigail’s attack as she scrutinised her plate. Lucinda poked at her salad with a fork.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Seb said quietly. ‘Trying to find a calorie?’ Lucinda gave a small laugh and watched hungrily as Seb tucked unashamedly into his roast. And slowly she started to relax. Her parents were as obnoxious and pretentious as ever throughout the meal, but somehow with Seb here beside her, deflecting the blows, adding a dry touch of humour, her parents didn’t seem quite so poisonous. She was actually almost enjoying herself.

  ‘Lucinda,’ Abigail said sharply as the dessert trolley was wheeled before them. ‘Remember the saying—a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.’

  Seb started to laugh. ‘You could always give her a free session of liposuction. I’m going to have a huge slice of mud cake. Billy would never forgive me if he found out I passed on dessert. Billy’s my son,’ he added as Abigail gave him a questioning look.

  ‘You’ve got a son?’ she asked in a horrified voice.

  ‘Seb’s divorced. His ex-wife lives in Sydney,’ Lucinda hastily explained, and Abigail seemed placated.

  ‘That’s all right, then. I expect it’s nice when you get up there to see him,’ she said in friendlier tones, but her face turned purple when she heard Seb’s reply.

  ‘Actually, I’ve got full custody. It’s my ex-wife who does the visiting.’

  ‘I’m just going to the powder room,’ Lucinda said, excusing herself and rushing off. Once there she splashed her face with water. She had known Seb would never hide Billy—he was fiercely proud of his son. And after all, she was hardly in her e
arly twenties. Most men of her age had some history. In a funny way she actually felt relieved now everything was out in the open. There was never going to be a good time to tell them and now at least they could move on. Feeling better, she made her way back to the table where her mother was examining her face in her compact mirror.

  ‘Where’s Dad and Seb?’ Lucinda asked.

  ‘They’ve gone to the bar.’

  ‘Why didn’t they ask the waiter?’

  Abigail shrugged and carried on admiring her reflection.

  ‘What do you think of Seb?’ Lucinda asked gingerly.

  ‘He seems a bit wrapped up in his son,’ Abigail said nastily.

  ‘He mentioned him once,’ Lucinda replied, exasperated. ‘Please, Mum, what do you really think? This is important to me.’

  With an angry snap Abigail shut the powder compact. ‘Oh, come on, Lucinda, you’re not serious. He may be a perfectly nice man but he’s got a child, for heaven’s sake. You’re hardly stepmother material. He’s probably just testing his wings after his divorce. It’s just a fling, I can tell he’s not serious about you.’

  ‘But how?’ Lucinda asked.

  ‘I just can, that’s all.’ Her tone softened somewhat and she reached over and patted Lucinda’s hand, which Lucinda thought was probably the tenderest thing she had done to her in years. ‘Don’t go reading too much into it, you’ll only get hurt.’

  Seb and her father returned, minus drinks.

  ‘I thought you went to the bar?’ Lucinda asked in a falsely cheerful voice.

  ‘I just settled the bill. I didn’t realise the time. We’d better be off if we want to catch that flight.’ He looked tense and Lucinda, with a sinking feeling, realised what a terrible time he’d probably had. It was hardly the most pleasant end to a perfect weekend after all.

  They said their goodbyes and, slipping into the taxi, Lucinda let out a huge sigh of relief as they drove off.

  ‘I told you they were awful,’ she said after a few moments, trying to lighten the mood.

  Seb didn’t say anything for a moment. His face was lined with tension and suddenly he looked tired. ‘They love you, Lucinda,’ he said finally. ‘They just want what’s best for you.’ But his voice was pensive instead of reassuring and his words did nothing to comfort her.

  As the plane touched down somewhat bumpily in Melbourne, Lucinda reflected that the flight had only been marginally less turbulent than her emotions. Seb, though kind and pleasant, seemed lost in his thoughts and Lucinda could almost feel him slipping away from her. It was as if everything good had been left at the Plaza and now it was back to the real world.

  Stepping off the plane and into the arrival lounge, the air of tension was broken by the unexpected sight of Billy and Isabella.

  ‘G’day, sport, this is a surprise.’ Swinging him up in his arms, Seb listened attentively as Billy chattered excitedly.

  ‘We watched your plane land. I saw it come right along the runway and up to the window. I could see the captain and everything. Can I watch the bags be unloaded?’

  ‘OK, but don’t go wandering.’ Seb waited until Billy was safely out of earshot. His little face was pushed up against the glass, watching as the ground staff unloaded the bags. ‘What happened this time?’ he said wearily to Isabella.

  ‘For once she had a genuine excuse, Seb,’ Isabella said in a placating voice. ‘Gemma’s mum has had a fall and probably fractured her hip. She had to fly back, of course. It was pointless ringing you as you were probably on your way, so I met her at the airport. You only just missed her.’

  ‘Is she all right, apart from the hip, I mean? No other injuries?’ His voice was concerned.

  ‘I think it’s just her hip.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Bell, you always seem to be bailing us out.’

  Isabella gave her brother a friendly smile. ‘I don’t mind a bit. I wanted to see Billy anyway after the scare he gave us last week. But I do have to rush off. By the time I get home it will be late and I need to sort out the kids’ uniforms and everything for tomorrow—they’re still sitting in the laundry basket. And the kids haven’t even started their homework. Dave’s useless, he’s probably playing footy with them in the garden as we speak.’

  Seb laughed. ‘Probably. Look, thanks, Bell.’ Isabella made her way over to Billy to say goodbye.

  ‘You’ve got to cover for Chris King,’ Lucinda said.

  ‘I know. I’ll just have to take Billy in with me, I guess. Hopefully it will be quiet.’

  ‘You can’t do that,’ Lucinda reasoned. ‘What if there’s an emergency? Look, why don’t I take him back to my flat? I know Billy and he knows me. I’m sure he’d be all right about it.’

  Seb didn’t look too keen. ‘Go on,’ Lucinda insisted. ‘It will be fine. You really can’t take him and you can’t let Chris down.’

  Seb eventually agreed, and although Lucinda could tell he was reluctant she was grateful for the chance to extend the weekend and hopefully end it on a somewhat happier note. Maybe he had only agreed for her to look after Billy because he didn’t have any other choice, but Lucinda was determined that this twist of fate would be the chance she wanted to show him how things could work out for them. Her mother’s cruel words rang in her ears. ‘Hardly stepmother material.’ Well, she’d show them!

  And Billy, despite his father’s apparent hesitation, was delighted at the prospect of an evening with Lucinda.

  ‘Now, you’ve got all your pumps?’ Seb asked as he checked Billy’s backpack. ‘He needs the Becloforte at eight, and if there’s any sign of a wheeze he’s to have two puffs of the Ventolin, the blue one.’

  ‘Seb.’ Lucinda put her hand over his as he held up the pump. ‘I prescribed it—remember?’

  Seb looked sheepish. ‘I know, and I know you can manage an asthma attack. It’s just…’

  ‘That you’re his dad,’ she finished the sentence for him. ‘Go on, we’ll be fine.’

  At the car park they said their farewells and Billy climbed into the car with hardly a backward glance.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be in the back?’ she asked.

  ‘Dad always lets me go in the front,’ he said.

  Lucinda gave him a questioning look. ‘Always?’

  Billy gave a small shrug. ‘Sometimes,’ he admitted reluctantly.

  ‘Well, I’d rather you sat in the back.’

  Lucinda waited for an argument but Billy accepted her decision with a happy ‘OK’. And he clambered into the back, clipping in his seat belt without prompting. ‘Can we stop at the video shop?’

  ‘I don’t know where it is,’ Lucinda replied honestly, grinning to herself at Billy’s incredulous look in the rearview mirror. ‘Anyway, you can have lots of fun without watching a video.’

  To Billy’s remarks of ‘cool’ and ‘what’s this for?’ as he wandered around her apartment, Lucinda rummaged through her hallway cupboard.

  ‘Is that a present for me?’ he asked excitedly as she brought out a huge wrapped parcel.

  ‘It was actually for my godson,’ Lucinda answered truthfully as he tore at the paper, ‘but I can get him something else for Christmas.’ It was probably just as well, she reflected. The wooden bagatelle set she had seen in a craft shop had evoked memories of the ‘den’ at boarding school where she had whiled away many an evening playing bagatelle. Children seemed so much more advanced now. Her godson was into computers and the like. A bagatelle board probably wasn’t the best gift idea she’d had.

  But Billy loved it. The silver ballbearings raced around the board and they laughed and laughed as Lucinda showed him the tricks she had learnt of old. And Billy with a child’s enthusiasm clasped his hands in a victory salute when finally he beat her.

  Lucinda, stopping to put on the overhead light, suddenly noticed the time.

  ‘Come on, Billy, it’s time for your puffers. Do you want something to eat?’ Her fridge contents didn’t hold much attraction for a five-year-old so she made Vegemite on toast and poured two
long glasses of orange juice.

  ‘What did you and Dad do in Queensland?’ he asked as they settled on the sofa to eat.

  ‘We were at a medical conference.’

  ‘Boring,’ declared Billy.

  ‘Probably to you. I saw my parents today, though. They live in Queensland.’

  Billy took a bite of his toast. ‘My mum lives in Sydney,’ he said, without swallowing what he had eaten. ‘She didn’t want me to live with her.’

  ‘But your dad did,’ Lucinda replied.

  ‘I heard Mum say once I was an accident.’

  Lucinda took a swig of her juice. Billy, she decided, was playing to his audience and, awful as the truth was, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a shocked look. ‘So was I.’

  It was Billy who looked shocked. ‘Really? How did you know?’

  ‘Same as you. I heard my mum tell someone.’ Billy seemed pleased with this information, and they chatted a while. He really was the cutest kid. Terribly spoilt, Lucinda decided, probably from Seb trying to overcompensate and a multitude of nurses won over by that smile, but there was also a really great person there, a fun little man who was kind and good and clever, not unlike his father. The evening they’d spent had, in fact, Lucinda thought as she tucked a blanket round him, been probably one of the best she’d ever had. It had certainly been the funniest.

  Once Billy was asleep she rang Surayan’s and ordered a curry. It had been ages since she and Seb had shared that first night together. It was a calculated move and she knew it. A happy, contented child asleep, a gorgeous meal—all that was left was for her to put on some make-up and Seb would realise what a great mum she could be.