by Leah Martyn
'He's not married, is he?'
'Of course not!'
'Divorced with dependent children?'
'No!'
'Then, ducky, if you've fallen for him, go for it!' Andrea gave an odd little laugh. 'Not that I'm an expert on matters of the heart...'
Abbey looked closely at her friend. All through lunch she'd seemed unlike herself, a bit brittle—especially around her husband. Which was peculiar to say the least. Abbey frowned. Andi and Stuart had always appeared so happy together, their marriage strong...
'OK, that's all done.' Andrea set the cycle, bringing her head up and agitatedly pushing a strand of dark hair away from her face. 'Now, while Stu and the kids are giving Nick the short guided tour of Risden, let's open another bottle of wine and take ourselves out onto the veranda for a while.'
'Um, I'll just have some of your homemade lemonade, thanks, Andi.' Abbey felt a small twinge of unease. Andi was a very moderate drinker at the best of times. But today she'd had several glasses of wine with lunch, and now she was proposing to start on another bottle. But it wasn't Abbey's place to say anything...
'You're giving me your doctor's look.' Andrea's mouth tipped in a crooked smile. 'And you're probably right to stay with the soft stuff. So I'll be good and join you in a lemonade. I've the beginnings of a rotten headache anyway.'
Abbey put her hand on the other's shoulder. 'Can I get you something for it? I brought my bag.'
'I'll take a couple of paracetamol.' Andrea pressed a hand across her eyes. 'And perhaps a cup of tea might be helpful.'
'I'll make it.' Abbey turned to fill the kettle. 'Go and dose yourself and put your feet up. I'll bring the tea out in a jiffy.'
Something was definitely out of kilter here. Two little lines pleated Abbey's forehead as she filled the china teapot and placed two pretty cups and saucers on the tray. Somehow she'd have to get Andrea to open up, because Abbey's trained eye was telling her that her friend was under stress of some kind. She could only hope Andi would let her help.
They sat on the veranda in comfortable old wicker chairs and looked down over the home paddock.
'It's so peaceful here,' Abbey sighed, leaning back in the plump butter-yellow cushions.
'On the surface, yes.' Andrea's throat convulsed as she swallowed. 'I think Stuart's having an affair,' she said in an abrupt way, as if this was what had been simmering in her mind all day.
Abbey's mouth opened and closed. She shook her head. 'That's ridiculous!'
'Is it?' Andrea looked directly at Abbey and her chin lifted defensively. 'We haven't made love in weeks. All he wants to do at night is to sit in front of that bloody computer screen.'
'And that constitutes an affair?' Abbey was in total disbelief. 'Have you asked him what's going on?'
Andrea looked bleak. 'He says he's checking out the market price of beef on the internet.'
'Well, that's feasible, isn't it? It's your livelihood after all.'
'How come he logs off the second I go into his office, then? As though...' Andrea paused and bit her bottom lip. 'As though he's got something to hide?'
Oh, lord. Abbey swung off her chair and went to stand at the railings. She needed to think. Something didn't add up here. Being devious was just not in Stuart's character. Something deeper was happening. She turned her head, her eyes running over her friend's taut face. 'So, are you saying he's met someone on the net and it's developed into an on-line affair?'
Andrea put her cup down carefully on its saucer. 'I know it sounds a bit off the wall for Stuart—but what else could it be?' She palmed the sudden wetness away from her eyes and gave a choked laugh. 'He's certainly gone off me...'
'Honey, that's crazy talk.' Abbey stepped back quickly from the railings, pulling her chair close to the other woman's. She took Andrea's hands and held them firmly. 'It's obvious something is going on with Stu, something he can't talk about. But I'd bet my last dollar he's not been unfaithful—even in cyberspace.'
Andrea's shoulder lifted in a long sigh. 'I'm at my wit's end. That's really why I asked you to come today—I had to talk to someone and I couldn't get into Wingara. It's all been hectic here and the kids have had exams to prepare for—'
'Shh.' Abbey tightened her grip and squeezed. 'I'm glad you called. You and Stu are my friends. And, for whatever reason, I'm always happy to come to this beautiful place, you know that.'
Think. Abbey's troubled gaze left her friend's for a minute and she looked out across the dun-gold grass of the paddocks to the blue-green of the eucalyptuses that lined the stretch of river away in the distance. Suddenly, her fair head came up in query. 'Could Stuart be ill?'
Andrea looked shocked. 'Surely I would've known? I mean, he's still working all the hours God sends...'
'Well, that's what he would do,' Abbey reinforced softly. 'Keep on keeping on, pushing his fears into the background. Pretending everything was normal.'
'Oh, my God...' Andrea's hands came up to press against her cheeks. 'But why wouldn't he have gone to see you? Surely—'
'Andi, listen,' Abbey came in forcefully. 'In the first place, I'm female. Not all men are comfortable with women doctors, especially if it's something highly personal. And in the second, Stu is like every other male in rural Australia. Their health is the last thing they concern themselves with. They're indestructible, as they see it.'
'Could that be it?' Andrea pushed her hair back from her face, pleating a strand as if it helped her think. 'But if he's ill...' Her eyes widened in sudden panic. 'What should I do? Confront him or— Oh, heavens, look! They're back!'
Abbey's gaze swivelled to where the battered Land Rover was coming up the track towards the house. 'Leave it with me,' she counselled quietly. 'Nick's here for a while and he'll be in the surgery each day. Somehow, between us, we'll get Stuart in to see him for a check-up.'
CHAPTER NINE
As it turned out, Abbey found the delicate matter of persuading Stuart to see a doctor was taken right out of her hands.
On their way back to Wingara township, she chatted to Nick about their day. 'Did you enjoy your tour of the place with Stuart?' she asked.
'Immensely. The whole experience has given me a new perspective. Oh, by the way, remind me to have Meri clear a longer than usual appointment time for Wednesday next. Stuart wants a word about a few symptoms he's experiencing.'
Abbey's heart skittered. So her guess had been right. 'Then I hope to heaven he's going to tell Andrea about his appointment with you.'
Nick frowned and then said slowly, 'I didn't realise he'd been keeping things to himself. That's not good.'
'No.' Abbey sighed, letting her head go back on the seat rest. 'She's up the wall with worry—Stuart's begun distancing himself from her emotionally. Andi thinks he's having an affair.'
'Good grief...' Nick muttered, and shook his head.
After a while, Abbey asked, 'Should I say anything to Andi, Nick? I mean, I did point out the possibility that Stuart could be ill—'
'Don't start playing go-between, Abbey.' Nick was firm. 'If you've planted the seed, Andrea can approach her husband. After that it's up to Stuart as to whether or not he wants to open up and express his fears. With the best will in the world, no one, not even his wife, can force him.'
'But that's so infantile!' Abbey exclaimed. 'And so unfair to Andi.'
'Abbey...' Nick warned. 'It'll sort itself out in time.'
Next morning, Abbey went to the surgery early, leaving Nick to do the ward round at the hospital. As she began putting things to rights on her desk, she realised she was on tenterhooks. She'd been hoping with all her heart she would have heard from her friend by now. But Andrea had not been in touch.
Abbey shook her head. Obviously, Stuart hadn't confided in his wife. Instead, he'd probably given her some lame excuse for his trip to town on Wednesday—like having to buy feed for the cattle or go the bank!
Sighing, she moved across to the window of her consulting room and looked out, not registering the bea
utiful crispness of the morning.
Anxiety for the Frasers' well-being was eating her alive.
She stayed at the window another minute longer and then, determinedly pushing aside her misgivings, returned to her desk, buzzing Meri for her first patient, Rachel Petersen.
'Good morning, Rachel. Are you playing hookey?' Abbey smiled. Rachel was the deputy principal at the primary school.
'I am, actually. But someone's covering for me— at least I hope so.'
Abbey could see at a glance that Rachel was not her usual calm self. She waited until her patient was comfortably seated and then asked, 'So, what can I do for you this morning, Rachel?'
'My hair's falling out.'
Abbey frowned briefly. 'In handfuls or have you just noticed it coming away when you've brushed it?'
The teacher lifted a shoulder. 'It's been a general loss, I suppose—but enough to make me panic. What could be wrong, Abbey?'
'Any number of things.' Abbey was cautious. 'Are you feeling unusually stressed at the moment?'
The woman's shoulders lifted in a heavy sigh. 'Well, as a working single parent, I'm used to keeping all the balls in the air, but just at the moment it's a real effort catching them.
'And teaching is hardly a doddle these days,' she went on ruefully. 'When I first began, it was so much more creative. Now...' She shook her head. 'There are so many rules and regulations. And the calibre of families has changed. For instance, I heard the other day that several of my pupils had been seen foraging from the rubbish bins at the back of the pub. They were hungry, poor little mites, and that's terrible, Abbey! Sorry.' She chewed her lip and gave a wry smile. 'I'm going on and I don't mean to waste your time.'
'You're not.' Abbey was firm. 'But there are two separate issues here, Rachel. First, we'll deal with your health and then I want to hear more about these children. Perhaps if we liaise, something can be done for them. But for the moment, your health is my concern.'
'Well?' Rachel asked a few minutes later, as she pulled herself up from the examination couch and slid her feet to the floor.
'You do appear a little tense.' Abbey said cautiously, washing her hands at the basin. 'And it may be just a case of everything catching up with you and depleting your energy stores, both physically and mentally. But in view of your hair loss, we'll run a check to rule out any thyroid imbalance.'
'How will you do that?' Rachel slipped her shoes back on and took her place back at Abbey's desk.
'A blood test is the most accurate. If your thyroid is under-active, it can certainly cause premature hair loss. Fortunately, simple replacement medication can soon put things right.'
Rachel's hands interlocked on the desktop. 'And if it's not that causing the hair loss?'
Abbey heard the thread of anxiety in her patient's voice and sought to reassure her. 'There are several options we can try. A multimineral tablet containing zinc can be helpful and there've been good results from a new lotion that can be rubbed into your scalp to help hair growth. Of course, don't neglect the obvious.' Abbey smiled. 'Regular shampooing and massage.'
'Massage...' Rachel managed a wry smile. 'That sounds like a recipe for relaxation.'
'We'll start with the lotion while we're waiting for the result of your blood test to come back.' Abbey pulled her pad towards her. 'And you'd probably benefit from some actual relaxation therapy.' She looked up, her eyebrows raised in query. 'Isn't something happening at the sports centre along those lines?'
'We received some flyers at the school about it.' Rachel looked uncertain. 'I could perhaps try that, couldn't I?'
'Absolutely.' Abbey smiled. She handed the prescription across. 'Now, I'll take some blood and while I'm doing that, you can tell me about these children.'
When her last patient for the morning had gone, Abbey sat on at her desk, her head lowered, her fingers gently massaging her temples.
It had been one of those mornings when she'd been expected to be all things to all people. She sighed, considering her own emotional state.
Everything always came back to Nick Tonnelli— large as life, a man waiting for some kind of sign from her that they could move forward. But to where? And to what? Abbey made a little sound of frustration, suddenly at odds with the emotional games people were forced to play.
She looked up as a rap sounded on her door.
'Come in.' Abbey hurriedly schooled her expression.
'Got a minute?' Nick's dark head came through the opening.
'If you've come bearing coffee, I've probably got several.' Abbey forced a wry smile and brought her gaze up to meet his.
'Ah...' Nick looked rueful. 'I've already had some. Could I—?'
'No, it's OK.' Abbey waved him in. 'I'm just feeling the aftermath of a heavy morning. I'll buzz Meri to bring some. Could you manage another?'
Nick shrugged. 'If Meri doesn't mind.'
'Of course not,' Abbey said dismissively. 'We look after each other here.' Reaching out, she pressed a button on the intercom.
'Tough list?' Nick parked himself in the chair opposite her.
'I'm not complaining.' In a nervous gesture, Abbey caught up her hair from her collar and let it go, for the first time noticing he was carrying a patient file.
'Stuart Fraser doesn't seem to have much of a medical history with us.' Nick tossed the notes to one side and sent her a quizzical look.
'He probably doesn't.' Abbey shrugged. 'I think I've only seen him once, when he needed a tetanus jab. In the past he may have seen Wolf.'
'Obviously just for routine stuff,' Nick said. 'Minor farm accidents and so on.'
'Here we are!' Meri announced cheerfully, as she arrived with a pot of coffee and a plate of chocolate biscuits. 'Energy hit for you. And I'd guess much needed. Patients coming out of the woodwork this morning,' she lamented. 'But probably half of them only came to get a look at Nick.'
'They don't still do that, do they?'
'With bells on.' Abbey felt a bubble of laughter rise in her chest at his look of disbelief. 'Thanks, Meri.' She sent the receptionist a warm smile. 'This will really hit the spot.'
'You're welcome,' Meri responded cheerfully, and turned to leave. 'Oh, Nick...' She paused at the door. 'Some emails have come through for you.'
'Excellent. I wasn't expecting to hear back so promptly.'
'I'll print them out and leave them on your desk,' Meri offered obligingly, fluttering a wave as she left.
'I shot off a couple this morning to colleagues in Sydney,' Nick explained, spinning his hands up behind his neck. 'I want to cover all the bases before I see Stuart.'
Abbey felt her stomach twist at the implication. 'What do you suspect?'
'Prostate.'
'He's only forty-two.'
Nick looked tensely back behind her to the startling brilliance of blue sky. 'And his father died of prostate cancer at sixty-eight.'
'Oh, lord.' Abbey closed her eyes for a second and then opened them, staring down at her hands clasped on her lap. She looked up, her eyes meeting Nick's with a plea. 'If Stuart has prostate cancer, what are his options? From my knowledge, they're few and fairly radical.'
'Abbey, don't go there, all right?' Nick's eyebrows jumped together in sudden irritation. 'At least, not yet. We'll know more on Wednesday after Stuart's been in.' His mouth tightened. 'I urged him to come and see me this morning, practically pleaded with him. But apparently he had to do something with his bloody cows!'
'Stu's a farmer, Nick,' Abbey explained patiently. 'His cows will always come first. And you beating yourself up for not persuading him to come in immediately won't change his mindset. By the way, he's booked for eleven o'clock.'
At fifteen minutes to eleven on Wednesday, Meri rang through from Reception. 'You've no one else booked for today, Abbey, but Andrea Fraser's here with her husband. He's just gone in to see Nick and she wondered if you'd have time for a word.'
'Of course.' Abbey's mind flew into overdrive. 'I'll be right out, Meri.' Her hand shaking, she pu
t the receiver down, a new foreboding shadowing her thoughts.
She found Andrea standing stiffly beside the reception counter, her face pinched-looking, her hair uncombed and sticking out at odd angles, as though her appearance had been the last thing on her mind when she'd left home. Abbey looped a comforting arm around her friend's shoulders. 'Let's go out onto the back deck where we can talk,' she said quietly.
'He told me this morning,' Andrea said without preamble, shredding the tissue she was winding in and out of her fingers. 'It's his prostate for sure. He hasn't been able to pee properly.' Tears suddenly welled in her eyes. 'The awful part is his dad died from prostate cancer.' She stopped and took a shuddering breath. 'Stuart's been sick with worry and that's what he's been doing on the net, trying to find out about the symptoms and treatment. Oh, Abbey...I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to Stu...' .
'Andi, you're getting way ahead of yourself,' Abbey cautioned firmly. 'Self-diagnosis is a dangerous thing. We have to wait for Nick. But in view of his family history, Stuart is right to seek medical help. Difficulty in passing urine is the first symptom something is amiss.'
Andrea's eyes widened momentarily in apprehension. 'What will Nick do first, then? And what will he be looking for?'
'He'll do a physical examination, which will tell him if the prostate gland is enlarged.'
Andrea shook her head. 'It's all such gobbledegook. I mean, I don't even know exactly where the prostate is, for heaven's sake!'
'The prostate gland is about the size of a walnut and it's situated at the base of the bladder,' Abbey explained gently. 'So, of course, when it begins to enlarge, as it seems to have done in Stu's case, it puts pressure on the urethra. That's the clinical name for the urine-carrying tube.'
'It's very much a male thing, isn't it?'
'Yes.'
'Oh, lord, Abbey.' Andrea laughed, a strange little tragic sound. 'What if he—if we can't ever—'
'Stop it, Andi.' Abbey homed in exactly on her friend's scrambled thoughts. 'Your mind's running too far ahead.'
Andrea dabbed at her eyes. 'C-can you blame me?'