As she started down the hall again, the nurse called after her, ‘David never works down here anyway, he’s usually up on cardio.’
‘Thanks.’
‘They’ve told you where the tea and coffee-making facilities are?’ Padma asked Liv now. She had completed Dylan’s obs, which he had pretty much slept through.
‘Yes, thank you, everyone has been very helpful.’
‘So sweet,’ Padma remarked, gazing down at Lachie, who was crashed out on a camp bed alongside Dylan’s hospital bed. ‘He is sleeping very soundly.’
‘Hm,’ said Liv, getting up to stand next to her. ‘When he insisted on staying I was worried he was going to get bored, but he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. I realised he hadn’t slept last night, worrying about his brother.’
‘Twins are special,’ said Padma. ‘They are a blessing. And you have boys – in India you would be much admired. And your husband, too, for his virility.’
Liv decided not to tell the lovely nurse Padma just where her husband’s virility had got them. ‘Excuse me, Padma,’ she said. ‘The boys seem very settled. Do you think it would be all right if I went for a bit of a walk to stretch my legs?’
‘Outside the hospital?’
‘No, no, just around the corridors. I wouldn’t bother anyone.’
‘Of course, this is fine. I will not be far, your sons are safe.’
With a last glance back at the boys, Liv followed Padma out of the room. She walked down towards the elevator bay, where the corridors led off in various directions, and looked around. What if she got lost in the maze and couldn’t find her way back? She mentally recorded the floor and number of the ward, and headed off towards a T-intersection where she could see a directory board suspended from the ceiling. As she approached, her eyes almost immediately landed on ‘Cardiology’, and her heart missed a beat. She wondered if she should . . . The chances of David actually being there were pretty remote – it would be something like less than one in twenty, considering there were three shifts in a day, and seven days in a week. But wouldn’t the number of nurses on staff also affect that figure? And also how many shifts David had in a week? That was as far as Liv could go with statistical probability, she wasn’t a numbers person. She was a people person, and a nosy person, and curiosity was getting the better of her. It would be interesting to see where David worked; if nothing else, it gave her a direction to head in.
However, after a while Liv began to think that Cardiology was about as real as the Land of Oz, as she went up stairs and down corridors and finally across a glassed-in bridge into another building. The hospital was eerily silent at this time of night, at least over this way, far from the emergency entrance. She hadn’t passed a single soul to ask if she was heading in the right direction, and she was beginning to think she had strayed too far from the boys, that she should head back, when she came around a corner and saw a sign on the wall that read CARDIOLOGY WARDS E–K. She was here, finally. Liv walked tentatively down the hushed corridor. She could see the light coming from the nurses’ station at the far end. Some of the doors she passed were closed, others open to show a light glowing above the bed, the outline of figures sleeping under the covers. As the nurses’ station came into view she could see there was no one there, and decided she’d gone far enough. She felt like an interloper. She turned around just as David came out of the nearest doorway, looking down at a clipboard. She drew her breath in sharply, and he raised his head. There was a look of stunned confusion in his eyes as he stared at her.
‘Liv, what are you doing here?’
‘Oh, I’m not here . . . I mean, I’m here . . . over there . . . it’s Dylan.’
‘Is everything all right?’
‘He had surgery, appendicitis . . .’
And it had to happen now. The flood rose up in her chest, forcing a loud sob out of her throat. She clasped her hands over her mouth, as if that was going to be able to stop the tsunami. It was just like a tsunami, in fact; Liv had read that after the initial undersea earthquake, the water retreats, all is still and calm for some time, until the wave hits. That was exactly what was happening to her. Her shoulders shook as tears sprang from her eyes, and she felt David’s arms close around her. She collapsed against his chest, heaving, unable to speak or do anything except allow herself to be led she didn’t know where, while David kept his arms firmly around her, shushing her gently. He brought her into a brightly lit room, closing the door behind him.
‘Here, sit down.’ He eased her carefully into a chair. ‘I’ll get you some water.’
Liv had always wondered why people were offered a glass of water at times like this. Somebody died: here, have a glass of water. You’ve had a bit of a shock: here, have a glass of water. Was sudden dehydration a side effect of trauma?
She wiped her eyes with her hands as she tried to get her breathing back to normal. God, she must look a sight. David returned and crouched in front of her, handing her a glass of water.
‘I’m so sorry about this,’ she said in a ragged voice.
‘Don’t worry. Just drink a little.’
She did as he said, taking a few sips. Then he took the glass from her and put it down nearby. He reached for a chair, dragged it closer and sat facing her, taking hold of her wrist. ‘Feeling better now?’ he asked, staring down at his watch.
Liv realised he was taking her pulse, and that made her smile. ‘Am I gunna make it, Doc?’
He looked up suddenly, caught out. Then he gave her a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry, hazard of the profession. I can’t help myself.’ He released her wrist. ‘Your pulse is still racing though, I should mention.’
‘And I should apologise for that dazzling performance just then.’
‘Stop it,’ he said. ‘When was the surgery?’
‘This morning. I’ve been fine all day.’
‘You had what’s called a delayed reaction to shock.’
‘Yeah, I know, it’s my party trick,’ said Liv. ‘Usually it takes about a day to hit. I thought I’d have till tomorrow at least, so I could have had my breakdown in the privacy of my own home.’
‘If only we could plan these things,’ David said. ‘Happens all the time in here: people are either hysterical when it’s all happening, which is the worst, or it’s some time after, out of the blue, when you tell them something random, like their husband needs pyjamas . . . Oh, not that I was implying you were hysterical,’ he added quickly.
‘But let’s call a spade a spade.’
He gave her a warm smile. ‘Well, sit here as long as you need.’
‘No, I’m good,’ she said, taking a deep, slightly tremulous breath. ‘I have to get back, I didn’t mean to leave them this long.’
‘Them?’
‘Yeah, Lachie’s here too, he wouldn’t leave his brother . . .’ Her voice caught on the words, and she felt tears pricking her eyes. Great, so now she was going to constantly ooze emotion?
David reached over and covered her hand. ‘How about I walk you back?’
‘Oh no, that’s okay, you’re working.’
‘It’s fine, let me just tell someone. You sit here,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘Take a minute. I’ll be right back.’ He passed her a box of tissues and slipped out the door again.
Liv looked around. It was some kind of break room, she assumed: there were the ubiquitous green vinyl hospital chairs, and a small fridge at the end of a sink unit, covered in stray cups; newspapers and magazines were strewn across the coffee table.
She was doing her best to clean her face with a tissue but no mirror when David came back in.
‘Are you ready?’ He reached out a hand to help her up, and then held the door open for her to go ahead of him. She felt his hand on her elbow as they started back down the corridor. When they had left the ward, David turned to her. ‘So, how are you feeling now?’
‘I’m fine, really. I don’t want to take you from your work.’
‘I told them I’m on a break. C
ome on, it’s this way.’
Considering her state of mind, it was probably just as well he was with her; she didn’t know if she would have found her way back on her own.
‘Can I ask you something?’ he said as they walked across the glassed-in bridge.
‘Sure.’
‘What brought you up this way?’
Liv looked sideways at him. ‘Okay, I did ask after you, and the nurse mentioned you tended to work in cardio, and I was going for a walk to stretch my legs, and I just thought I’d wander up this way . . . but I’m not a stalker or anything.’ She took a breath. ‘Please don’t think I’m weird.’
‘Are you kidding?’ he said. ‘I’m flattered. I’ve never had a stalker before.’
‘David . . .’
‘It was a joke.’
‘I really didn’t expect to bump into you,’ said Liv. ‘I mean, what are the chances?’
‘Better than being seated next to each other on a plane,’ he said with a grin.
When they got back to Dylan’s room, David paused in the doorway. ‘Do you mind?’
‘No, of course not, come in.’
He crossed over to the end of the bed, picked up the chart, and then came around beside Dylan. He took out his own small torch, and leant the chart on the rail of the bed as he flicked through the pages. Liv found herself a little mesmerised. There was something about him in those blue scrubs, and his air of quiet authority, laced with a heavy dose of compassion, that was just so damned appealing. Seriously, men in uniform . . . any uniform. Put a woman in scrubs and she looked like a sack of potatoes, they were so unflattering. But not on a man.
David looked up and caught her watching him. ‘I did it again, didn’t I?’ he said in a hushed voice. ‘Playing nurse. Can’t help myself, sorry.’
‘No, please,’ said Liv, coming around to join him beside the bed. ‘Actually, can you tell me that everything’s okay? I’d be reassured to hear it in plain English.’
‘Everything looks great. His notes are all routine, you have nothing to worry about.’ He gazed down at Dylan, bringing one hand to his forehead and gently smoothing his hair back. Liv found it quite moving.
‘They’re handsome boys,’ he said.
He turned around and Liv was right in front of him. They both stood frozen for a moment, very close, breathing hard. Then David cleared his throat, and Liv stirred, moving out of his way.
‘Now, have you been trying to sleep in that chair?’ he said briskly.
‘Yeah, it’s fine. I gave Lachie the camp bed. I don’t expect I’m going to sleep much anyway.’
‘There’ll be another mattress around,’ he said, walking over to the door. ‘You might not sleep but you should at least get horizontal, or else you’ll pay for it tomorrow.’
He returned shortly with a mattress and bedding. ‘I’ll make it up for you,’ he said, dropping the mattress onto the floor.
‘No way, I’m not going to let you make my bed!’
‘Are you sure? You should see my hospital corners.’
Liv smiled. ‘Thank you, but you’ve done enough already – more than enough. And I’m starting to get worried about the heart patients you’ve abandoned back there.’
‘Ah, they’ll keep, I promise.’
They were standing facing each other again. Liv was quite overcome; it was the kindness . . . his compassion . . . the way he looked in those scrubs. It seemed there actually were a few good men left . . . but what were the chances of being seated next to one of them on a plane?
Impulsively, she reached up on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, and he leant into her. She lingered for a moment, resting her cheek against his. When she drew away, there was a look in his eyes that was almost grateful, certainly pleased.
‘I might come by and check on you tomorrow, if that’s okay?’ he said, his voice husky.
‘That’d be great. I’ll look forward to it.’
The next morning
Madeleine woke early, probably because pretty much all she’d done yesterday was sleep. Whenever she was conscious for a while, everything would come hurtling back into her head with a ferocity that made it ache. She couldn’t bear thinking about it, she couldn’t bear existing in the reality she had created for herself, so she would roll over again and go back to sleep.
But when she woke today her head felt much clearer; it was the pain in her heart that was threatening to engulf her. It occurred to Madeleine that part of what she had been feeling yesterday must have been a hangover, so at least that was over with. But that was the least of it. She lay in bed for another hour, trying to imagine how she was going to tell Henry. She knew there was no getting around it: she couldn’t make it more palatable, or less damning; she had to face the consequences of her actions, actions that were unforgivable. She wasn’t even going to ask for forgiveness – she had no right.
Madeleine knew she was going to lose him, and it was breaking her heart. But what made it worse was that she was going to break Henry’s heart. She was the one who had done the wrong thing, but he was going to have to suffer for it. If there was any way that she could take that away from him, she would; if she thought that leaving, disappearing from his life would save him the hurt, she would do it in a heartbeat. But there was no way out, and maybe that was her punishment, being forced to inflict pain on the person she loved more than anyone in the world, someone who had done nothing to deserve it. It was cruel and unusual punishment, to say the least.
Her phone pinged to announce a text. It was still early, and Henry had said he’d leave it up to her to get in touch, so she wasn’t expecting to hear from him. She held her phone up to check, and her stomach lurched. It was from Aiden. To think that only a week ago she’d looked forward to his messages. She was tempted just to delete it, but she had a feeling she wasn’t entirely finished with Aiden.
Madeleine opened the message. Just checking in, want to know you’re ok. Are you home? xa
She supposed she had to keep him in the loop for now, at least until she’d talked to Henry. Not home yet, she replied. Still at the flat.
Do you want me to come over? he asked.
NO.
Madeleine knew what she had to do, but as she held the phone in her hand, contemplating calling Henry, she also knew she needed more time before she could face him. Maybe she was only delaying the inevitable, but she still wasn’t ready.
She took a breath. When she tapped on his name to make the call, his picture came up on the screen. It was a photo she’d taken of him at his house in the Hamptons. Just a snapshot in an unguarded moment, but she loved that photo, she loved the expression on his face . . . she loved him, so very much.
‘Madeleine, hi.’ She heard his voice, and quickly put the phone to her ear. He’d answered after only a ring or two; he must have had the phone right alongside him, which wasn’t like Henry.
‘Hi,’ she said.
‘Did you sleep well?’ he asked.
‘I did, thank you, I slept and slept.’
‘Well, you must have needed it.’
‘Mm.’
‘So . . . what are your plans?’ he asked.
She’d concocted a response in her head earlier, should she need it. She didn’t know if it was going to sound reasonable, but it was all she had right now.
‘Well, I was thinking, if it’s okay with you, that I might get some things done around here. You see,’ she went on quickly, ‘the place really needs a good clean-out if I want to give notice before the wedding, which, you know, I might as well, we’re going to be away for weeks.’
As soon as it all came tumbling out of her mouth she wanted to be sick. She was using the excuse of a wedding that wasn’t even going to happen any more, along with a teaser about getting rid of the flat – which likely wasn’t going to happen now either – and thrown in a mention of a honeymoon that they were never going to have, all so that Henry wouldn’t get annoyed with her for staying away another night before she fronted up to tell him she’d
slept with his best man. It was a wonder she wasn’t struck down by lightning on the spot.
‘That’s fine, Madeleine, whatever you need to do,’ was all Henry said.
Why was he being so reasonable? She took a breath. ‘The thing is, if I really want to get somewhere, I should stick at it, and stay tonight as well, then go straight to work tomorrow from here. But this will be it, okay? I promise, Henry, it’s the last time.’ At least that was the truth.
‘It’s really okay, Madeleine,’ he said. ‘Just try not to overdo it.’
‘I won’t,’ she said weakly.
‘So I’ll see you tomorrow evening?’
‘You will.’
‘Maybe you could give me a buzz when you’re on your way?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’ll see you then,’ he said. ‘Love you.’
‘I love you too.’
What was going on? There was no disappointment, no disapproval, no sulking. She’d been away since last Wednesday, and he was being nothing but supportive and sweet. Madeleine was starting to wonder if she’d been making it all up in her head. What was the matter with her? Why had she been so ready to see fault in everything he did?
It was too late now. She had a deadline. She had to face Henry tomorrow night, no matter what; she couldn’t put it off any longer.
She thought about Aiden, what the hell was his issue? The things he’d said about Henry – it was almost as if he didn’t know him at all. How could he suggest that Henry had ‘floated through life’, after what he’d told her about his childhood? He was supposed to be Henry’s best friend, his best man. What was going through his mind when he was fucking her on the kitchen bench? He must have known that he was ruining everything, or helping Madeleine to ruin it for herself. She would take full responsibility for her own actions: Aiden hadn’t forced or coerced her to do anything she didn’t want to do – at the time – but it still left her with a very bad feeling about him and his motives. She may need to keep him in the loop, but she intended to steer well clear of him in person.
She fired off one more text message to him. Staying at flat tonight, work tomorrow, then home to talk to Henry. Please come and leave keys after I’ve gone. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES BEFORE THAT.
The Best Man Page 31