by Lucy Clark
Will looked at the little chapel with its white-painted door, brown bricks and the little steeple on top. ‘A place of solitude.’
Sheena shrugged. ‘We all need one.’
As soon as they reached the roadside, where the taxi rank was situated, Will walked to the first taxi and held the door open for Sheena.
‘Where ya headed?’ the driver asked them as Sheena sat in the back, trying to keep her distance from Will.
‘Giuseppe’s, please,’ she told him, and a moment later they were driving through the streets of Adelaide at midnight.
‘Wow. Everything looks just as I remembered. The country town trying to be a big city.’ He smiled as he said the words.
Sheena frowned. ‘Don’t some of your family live here? I can’t remember.’
‘My parents and one sister. She’s married with children and lives just around the corner from my parents.’
‘I’ll bet your parents are glad to have you home for a while.’
He nodded. ‘They are.’
Sheena sighed, her tone wistful. ‘I always envied your family. Whenever you spoke about them, it always sounded so … wonderful. Lots of siblings, lots of mischief.’ She nodded to herself. ‘That’s what I want for my girls … well, the mischief part at any rate.’
She looked down at her hands, surprised to find they were shaking. ‘Right now, though, I just want them to be healthy.’ She swallowed over the lump in her throat.
‘The projected outcomes for the surgery are good, Sheena.’ Will placed a hand over hers, needing to offer her hope.
‘I know.’ She forced a smile. ‘It’s never easy for a mother when her child is sick or needs surgery. Over the years, I’ve watched the parents of my little patients as their child was wheeled away to surgery and the devastation and fear and pain and anguish reflected in their eyes is now permanently lodged in my throat.’
‘We have a great team together and Miles knows what he’s doing.’
Sheena quickly shook her head. ‘I’m not concerned about the team. I know everyone will do everything they can for my girls. I’m confident with that. What I’m not confident about are these maternal emotions. I never thought I’d have them and now that I do, they’re … intense.’
‘In a way, I envy you.’ Will’s words were soft and he dropped his hand from her shoulder. ‘You’re a parent. You have children. That’s special.’
Sheena looked at him. ‘It is special.’ Her words were a whisper then she cleared her throat, asking the question that had been burning through her since the wedding. ‘You’ve never met … anyone else? I’m not trying to pry, Will,’ she rushed on hurriedly.
‘Sure you are,’ he countered, thoughts of Beatrice coming to his mind. He and Beatrice were well and truly over, had been for the past two years, but he had to admit he would feel strange telling Sheena about his aborted engagement. ‘But why shouldn’t you? Why shouldn’t I? I’ve already told you I’m curious about you and I’m determined to get answers.’
‘You deserve them.’ She nodded. ‘We can clear the air tonight. Start afresh tomorrow.’
‘Just like that?’ He was a little surprised at her words. ‘One hundred per cent honesty?’
‘Yes.’
The taxi slowed before he could say anything more and soon they were climbing out and paying the driver. Neither of them spoke as they were welcomed by one of the waiters and led to a table. Sheena waved to the few other patrons in the restaurant, all of whom worked at Adelaide Mercy.
‘How are the girls tonight?’ one woman asked. Sheena recognised her as one of the dieticians and smiled politely.
‘Growing more and more every day.’
‘Good to hear.’
‘You’re well known,’ Will said, after she’d been asked a few more questions. He held out her chair for her and waited until she was seated before sitting down opposite her.
‘I’m the mother of Adelaide’s conjoined twins, a minor celebrity.’ She spoke with forced joviality, then sighed and shrugged. ‘I’ve become used to it, especially at work.’
‘The press don’t bother you?’
‘Charisma, Adelaide Mercy’s CEO, and the rest of the PR department take care of those things. Apart from when the girls were born, I haven’t really been hounded. The PR department discuss the information with me and give their recommendations, such as which journalists to speak to and who to stay clear of, but other than that things haven’t been too bad. My main focus is to look after the girls.’
‘That’s good to hear. Many parents of conjoined children are often hounded by the media for photographs and update reports. You do know that things will heat up again with the impending separation surgery?’
Sheena nodded and sipped at the glass of water the waiter had just poured for her, declining the offer of wine as she was still expressing milk for the twins. ‘Miles took me through the drill.’
‘Good.’ Will opened the menu and after a moment of perusing it gave his order to the waiter, as did Sheena, and once he’d left them alone, Sheena put both hands on the table and leaned forward a little, not wanting her voice to travel to the other patrons.
‘Shall we begin?’ It all seemed so strange, so civilised but Sheena rationalised this was probably better than ranting and raving and getting way too emotional. Calm and controlled. Open and honest. It seemed the best way to proceed.
‘Now?’
‘Why not? You go first. Ask away.’
Will nodded then jumped right in. ‘When you rejected my proposal, were you telling the truth about not being able to have children?’
Sheena tried not to wince at his accusatory tone and tried not to take it to heart. Will had obviously thought about this as his question had rolled immediately off his tongue with no hesitation whatsoever. She’d agreed to provide him with answers and she was going to follow through. If there was any hope that she and Will could find some common ground, that they could put the past behind them and hopefully become friends, it would be good not only for them but for the girls as well. She would do anything for her girls and if it meant being uncomfortable whilst sorting things out, then it would all be worth it.
She swallowed and nodded. ‘Yes. I had bad endometriosis. The chances of me conceiving were, I was told, impossible.’
‘And yet you have twins.’
‘And yet I have twins,’ she agreed, that same secret smile touching her lips. ‘Miracle twins.’ She breathed the two words as though they were her heart and soul. Will found that puzzling yet interesting.
‘So if you knew you couldn’t have children, why did you marry?’
Her expression changed, a small frown furrowing her brow. ‘Jonas didn’t want children. He was a plastic surgeon I met at a paediatric conference on facial reconstruction. We hit it off, started dating and I was determined not to make the same mistakes I’d made with you. So I told him upfront that I was unable to have children and he was happy about it. He’d said he was focused on his career, that he had expensive tastes and that children didn’t fit into his life at all. We were … compatible, and so when he proposed I accepted.’ She looked down at her hands, clasped together in front of her, trying not to feel highly self-conscious at discussing her marriage with Will.
‘When my gynaecological surgeon contacted me about a new surgical technique of removing the endometrial cysts from my ovaries, I was interested. He said it would alleviate a lot of my pain.’
Will was surprised to hear her speak of pain. ‘Were you always in pain? I don’t remember you ever complaining of abdominal pain.’
Sheena laughed without humour. ‘When you’ve had the pain for most of your life, you learn to deal with it. Anyway, the surgery worked. The pain was dramatically reduced and then two months after the surgery, when I returned for an ultrasound, it was discovered I was pregnant. Naturally I was over the moon and I thought Jonas would be, too.’
‘He really didn’t want the children?’
She shook her head. ‘
He really didn’t. He said I’d lied to him, telling him I could never have children and then conceiving only twelve months after we were married. He said I’d violated our prenuptial agreement and that it was grounds for divorce. Within the week he’d contacted his solicitor, packed up my belongings and made me leave the house.’
‘He kicked you out!’ Will couldn’t help but see red at some other man treating any woman in such a fashion, let alone Sheena. ‘That’s disgusting.’
Sheena shrugged and sighed. ‘He was well within his legal rights. Besides, at least he was honest. At least he didn’t pretend he was happy when he wasn’t, unlike my parents.’
‘Your parents?’
‘My parents are very wealthy, very prominent solicitors in Sydney.’
‘They’re alive? I’d always thought they’d passed away as you never spoke of them.’ He shook his head. Why didn’t he know all of this? The two of them had been so close, or so he’d thought.
‘We don’t talk. We haven’t spoken in …’ She paused for a moment as she tried to calculate. ‘Well over two decades—ever since my fourteenth birthday. I was at boarding school and had been told by my teacher that my parents were supposed to pick me up and take me out for the day. They never showed. I called the house, worried that they might have had an accident, that something bad might have happened, but I was told by Harrington, our butler, that my parents had flown overseas that morning on urgent business and wouldn’t be back for six months.’
She looked down at her hands and gave a small shrug. ‘They’d forgotten me—again. I didn’t hear from them during the rest of my time at boarding school. Then, as soon as I turned eighteen, their contract—as they called it—with me expired and I was told by one of their solicitor colleagues hired to handle my “case” that I was on my own.’
‘Oh, Sheena.’ Will felt her pain and wanted to be there for her, to touch her, to let her know how disturbed he was to learn of her past. He wasn’t entirely sure what sort of reaction from him was appropriate when rehashing the past with an old girlfriend … so he sat and waited for her to continue.
‘Apparently, when my mother discovered she was pregnant with me, she said she felt as though her world had come to an end. My father wasn’t interested in her any more because she was large and fat—her words, not mine.’
Sheena shook her head, trying not to feel hurt and betrayed, but she couldn’t help it. After all these years, the cold, impersonal way in which she’d been raised still had the ability to hurt her. It also made her determined never to do that to her girls. ‘She even once told me that if the doctor who had first confirmed her pregnancy hadn’t been part of their social set, she would have had an abortion. However, she couldn’t deal with the possibility of being ostracised by her friends, most of whom had the odd child or two, so she decided to continue with the pregnancy.’
‘What? How old were you when she told you that?’
‘Seven. I remember asking her why she never came to see me at boarding school, why she never attended the school concerts I took part in, why I was driven to and from school by a chauffeur rather than my father. Of course, I had no idea what the word abortion meant so I asked my teachers.’
‘I had no idea.’ He shook his head. ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this before? How come I don’t know this about you?’ It also made him wonder whether he’d been so wrapped up in creating his own perfect family picture that he hadn’t bothered to dig a little deeper where Sheena was concerned.
She shrugged. ‘I didn’t talk about it at all. Period. My parents didn’t share a caring bone in their bodies—except perhaps for each other, and even then I’m not so sure. My mother demanded a C-section delivery, simply because she refused to give birth naturally, and then when she’d regained her pre-pregnancy figure my father started paying her attention again. I was only endured because to do otherwise would have brought ridicule from their elitist friends. To them, having “offspring” was considered acceptable, even though they didn’t raise me.’
Will thought for a moment, recalling some of the conversations they’d had or, more correctly, the times he’d talked about his family, not realising that Sheena had never talked of hers. ‘And then there was me. Always going on about my parents and my siblings and my nieces and nephews.’
‘You didn’t go on.’ She smiled. ‘I loved hearing your stories. I loved them so much and I could tell that family was so very important to you. You needed children, Will, so you needed a wife who could give you that.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘That wasn’t me.’
‘So you turned me down. Instead of talking to me, instead of sharing with me, instead of trusting me, you simply decided to run away?’
‘Hey, I didn’t run away. It was extremely difficult for me to do what needed to be done. I was raised in a non-communicative household and then a boarding school so I’ve never been any good at talking about my feelings, but I didn’t run away from you.’ She tried not to raise her voice, to keep her tone on that calm, even footing she wanted, but it was difficult when he was accusing her.
Will shook his head. ‘No. Not buying it. Those may have been the reasons you told yourself you couldn’t accept me but deep down inside you were scared. I can see that now. You were scared of opening up, of getting close to someone. You probably thought that one day I would slap you down the way everyone else around you had done, and so you rejected me before I could reject you. A pre-emptive strike.’
Sheena knew his words were close to the truth. She had been scared, scared that he would one day come to really hate her … and she hadn’t been able to live with even the thought of that. ‘Or that if I’d said yes, if I’d accepted your proposal and we’d got married, you would have eventually come to hate me for not being able to give you the one thing you’ve always wanted—a great big happy family.
‘And if you had married me, those gorgeous girls wouldn’t just be yours, they’d be ours. Our miracle. Instead, they belong to another man … another man who doesn’t even want them.’ The last words were said with utter disgust.
‘Which is why I intend to give them all the love I have and more. Those girls are my life and I will do anything and everything to ensure their health and happiness. Even when I had a lot of bleeding early on in the pregnancy and even when I had to stay bedridden, feeling as though I had no other purpose in life than to be a human incubator, nothing else mattered other than giving my babies everything I had to give. From the instant I was told about them, I’ve loved them with every fibre of my being. And I shall continue to be there for them, to provide them with a happy home for the rest of my life.’ Vehemence laced her tone, pride stiffened her backbone and determination was written all over her face.
When the waiter arrived with their food, his presence almost startled her and she realised she’d become too intensely focused on herself and Will. The rest of the restaurant came back into focus—the sights, the smells, the surroundings. The waiter smiled politely, wished them a brief ‘Buon appetito’ then left them alone once more.
Will quietly picked up his fork and twirled it into his pasta before lifting it to his lips. ‘Mmm,’ he said a moment later. ‘Delicious. Good choice of restaurant, Sheena.’
That was it? Wasn’t he going to ask any more questions or had he discovered all the answers he needed? Confusion swam through her and as she started to calm down, she realised the waiter had unfurled her napkin and placed it in her lap. An uncomfortable silence started to settle over them and Sheena wasn’t sure what to say to alleviate it.
‘Why don’t the girls have your husband’s surname?’ Will asked after a few minutes, his words so abrupt that Sheena almost dropped her fork to her plate. ‘I’ve noticed on their charts that they’re both listed as Woodcombe.’
Sheena shrugged. ‘As Jonas wasn’t interested in the girls and as I hadn’t changed my name when we married, it seemed ridiculous for us to have different surnames.’
‘You didn’t change your name.’ He pond
ered the words, intrigued that she’d chosen to remain a Woodcombe given that she had no ties to her family heritage. Had that been because the process was too time consuming, or because deep down inside she’d known her marriage to Jonas would never last?
‘My medical degree is in the name of Sheena Woodcombe. Whether or not I’d changed it, I’d still have to practice as Dr Woodcombe. It just seemed simpler to leave things as they were.’
‘It didn’t bother your ex-husband?’
‘No. Why? Would it bother you?’
Will pondered her words for a moment then leaned forward a little. ‘Not that it has anything to do with our present situation, but if we’d been married, would you have changed your name?’
Sheena nodded, her decision almost instant, as though at some point she’d given it some thought. ‘More than likely. Besides, when we were together I was still a registrar and didn’t have my paediatric consultant qualifications.’
‘So it’s all logistics to you?’
‘I’ve had to be logical. It was the only defence I had against the way I was raised. Closing myself off, being logical about all things was the only way I could cope. Janessa was the first person ever to break through my barriers … and …’ She took a calming breath, reminding herself that she was being completely honest with him tonight. ‘And you were second.’
‘And what about Jonas? Was he the third?’
‘No. Jonas never broke through my barriers. I loved him but it was more companionship. A marriage I could be in so that I had someone to share things with, to discuss my day with. Marriage is all about someone else being a witness to your life and at that time I was very lonely. I had Janessa and I had my work and that was it.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t expect you to understand as you have a plethora of siblings and loving, caring parents who are actually interested in your life, who want to talk to you, who want to spend time with you.’