The questions plagued her. Had she been too clingy or too honest with her feelings? He once begged her for honesty and she thought he would see through any lie.
“I’m scared – for you and for us.” Did he only heard the fear and not the determination, “We will beat this thing – together.”
She wasn’t some innocent undergraduate who never faced death head on. Despite knowing the emotional toll of all the waiting - hours of waiting in hospital rooms, for tests to be conducted and the tests results to come in – she would go through it all again for Geoffrey. If only he would let her.
“Layla, it is Rebecca Garran again, is the Professor available?”
“I’m sorry, Ms Garran, the Professor is unavailable.”
“Layla, please, is he okay?”
“Ms Garran, I am not at liberty …”
“I know,” Bec cut in, “You are not at liberty to tell me where he is, whether he is getting treatment or anything at all that I need to know. Damn it, tell him to call me.”
Finally, Bec lost all reason to pretend things were okay. She ran to the ladies room, locked herself into a cubicle and allowed the ugly crying to engulf her.
When her husband was diagnosed with cancer, he pushed her away for her own good and then died.
Now her lover, her love, was diagnosed with cancer, and pushed her away for her own good.
Bec cried as she realized she never told Geoffrey she loved him. She wanted the first time to be perfect – waiting for their first night living together. If she had said the words, would he have still pushed her away?
Reason to live
Geoffrey awoke to the noises in his head beating drums in time with his heart. Another wicked night ended drinking alone with his thoughts and fears.
He was too old to live and too young to die this way – alone with an empty bottle for company.
Not even in his years of grief had he found solace in alcohol – it was always women, many women.
He grunted with disgust at his previous self, he didn’t want women anymore – he blew his second chance with Bec by being the same cold bastard she thought she met on the plane. He didn’t want women, he didn’t want his own company and so he continued to drown in amber fluid. Waking only to start the day again.
The pounding on his head seemed louder this morning, surrounding him. Then he heard glass smashing and high heels on his polished floorboards.
“Professor!” Trust Layla, to be the pounding in his head.
“Go away,” he yelled at her. How dare she invade his home, “Can’t you see, I’m not well.”
“Professor, you had me worried sick that something serious happened to you. Your doctor keeps calling, he needs you to contact his office urgently.” Layla picked up his trousers from the floor and threw them at him, then opened his blinds. Geoffrey winced as the late morning sun blinded him.
“Go away, Layla, for the love of, leave me alone.”
“Professor! The Vice Chancellor asked me to come and check in on you and told me to tell you, excuse my language, but he told me to tell you to ‘get your flaming ass back to work,’ and then he told me to wait until you are dressed and bring you in.” He heard Layla talking from the kitchen, then he heard the coffee machine being turned on.
Coffee! What he wouldn’t do for a strong macchiato and fresh breath. It wouldn’t hurt to have a shower and clean his teeth – perhaps Layla would be gone by the time he got out.
Layla, bless her, was far more persistent than he ever gave her credit for. Not only did a coffee await him, an omelette was finishing off in the oven.
“Thank you, seen you soon,” he heard her finish up a call.
“Don’t let me keep you,” he grumbled, making an attempt to collect the empty bottles together for recycling realizing for the first time how much he had drunk.
“I’m not going anywhere until you eat something. Then, you are going into the office to prove to the Vice Chancellor you are still alive and ready to terrorize your students again.”
He chuckled and then grabbed his head, “Who has been looking after them while I’ve been gone – and what week is this?”
“Professor Phillips took most of your classes,” Layla couldn’t hide her amusement when Geoffrey snorted his distain.
“Phillips! The old goat wouldn’t know macro from micro – why would Rigby let Phillips loose on my class! Even my worse students deserve better than Phillips!”
“Professor, I might agree with you, but unless you get dressed and back to the university for this afternoon’s lectures, the last your students will learn before their semester break will be about his 1983 research paper.”
“He wouldn’t!”
“He made me publish the slides.”
“You work for me – not him. Remember that!” Geoffrey demolished the coffee and omelette in his anger.
“Professor, if you aren’t back at work, the university will assign me to someone else,” she shrugged. Damn woman knew exactly how to play him.
Another coffee, water and pain killers and Geoffrey felt almost ready to face the world again.
He still needed to call his doctor.
“It is Professor Geoffrey Swains here, I understand Dr Brook Davis wanted to talk to me?” Geoffrey’s curt tone to the receptionist tried to hide his fear. He saw what cancer did to Rachel and knew he wasn’t as strong as his beloved wife. He had no reason to fight as hard as she fought.
“Geoffrey, glad you called.”
“Well? Have you got my results?” Geoffrey looked longingly at a half full bottle of scotch – he should have been more prepared before calling his doctor.
“Perhaps, it would be best if you came into the office,” the doctor started before Geoffrey cut him off.
“No. Give it to me straight, doc, I don’t have time to come into your office to be given the all clear.”
“Then you better come into the office, I suggest you bring someone.”
As Geoffrey hung up the phone, he turned to see Layla with tears in her eyes, trying to compose herself enough to speak. He needed to stop her before she said something that would make him skull the rest of his scotch.
Unfortunately, he was now sober enough to understand he didn’t have time to live in denial. The dragon roared at his door. He needed to stand and fight.
“Layla, I don’t want to talk about it, what I need from you is to ensure I get to my classes – all my classes. They are my students and I will not have them fail because Phillips filled their heads with rubbish. I want them back and if you need to schedule an extra lecture then make it happen. I want to attend each tutorial at least twice to catch everyone up.”
Layla focused on her notepad. Good. She was organized and efficient and if he let her, she would keep him focused on what mattered and what he could control.
“I need you to organize some appointments with Dr Davis. The first one should be as soon as you can without disrupting my students any more than they already have been. Do you understand?”
He waited until she nodded. “Good, then I’ll probably need to buy Rigby a drink and explain a few things.”
“Professor, I could call the Vice Chancellor’s secretary and explain …”
“No, for something like this, he needs to hear it from me.”
Geoffrey tried to smile, to convince Layla and himself everything would be alright.
“Professor, I heard the doctor suggest you bring someone with you.”
“There is no one.” Geoffrey turned to collect his briefcase and papers. He didn’t want to see the pity in her eyes, or even worse, have her offer to come with him. He didn’t have anyone else to blame for being alone – but it was better than have someone watch him die.
Bec snuck into the back of the auditorium and hid amongst the students. Layla’s message had been very cryptic, at least enough to make her cancel all appointments for the day and come to Geoffrey’s lecture.
“There is no way I’m going to pass if Swains doe
sn’t come back.”
“The only reason I’m doing this course is because of Swains.”
“I heard he has been drunk for a week.”
“Are you sure he hasn’t been holed up with some girl?”
“Nah, someone saw him buying up big – all scotch. You don’t buy spirits for a woman.”
All around her, she heard students dissecting Geoffrey’s absence – they wanted answers.
The door at the front of the room slammed shut and the room silenced as Professor Swains moved to the podium.
“I understand you have been in the capable hands of Professor Phillips while I have been away. So, enlighten me. What have you learned from my esteemed colleague?”
Bec watched as Geoffrey listened as three of his students fumbled their way to explain the previous month’s lectures.
“Excellent, an excellent summary of all his work. Now, for the test – break it apart.”
For the next hour, Geoffrey carefully had his students dismantle the work of his colleague. With carefully structured questions, he helped the class identify the weaknesses and pose alternative theories.
If she didn’t watch him work, she would never have believed one individual could bring a group on a journey as masterfully and easily.
“Professor, if you think so little of Professor Phillips’ work, then why did you let him lecture us for the last month?” the room fell silent as Geoffrey paced towards the brave student who asked what they all wanted to know.
“Hah,” he started opening his arms out wide, “You think I abandoned you? Did you? Did any of you think that after all I invested in you, I would abandon you?”
“Of all the years, this group gives me the greatest hope for the future. I wanted to test you. Here and in the world, you will be tested – people you respect and admire will tell you things and say it is the truth. They will even give you evidence and tell you their truth is proven. I want you to think for yourselves. Only the most brilliant minds will take what is told to them as fact and break it down and question. You’ve all shown that here today.
“You may think I abandoned you, and you would be correct. The rest of you will leave here and think about this lecture. You have learnt more here today than you have in all your other classes combined. Professor Phillips is a world renowned and well-respected lecturer. I would not leave you in the hands of anyone less. Yet you, today, have drawn your own conclusions and challenged yourselves against competing theories.
“I am adding a new assignment for this semester. By now, you know my work has stood the test of the last ten years of challenge. You also have been privileged to hear from Professor Phillips and his work. Your assignment is to suggest what the next breakthrough will be. You don’t need the answers – those will come. What I want is a 1000-word question.”
Then Geoffrey turned off his microphone and strode from the stage.
The excitement in the room was palatable. Bec never experienced such enthusiasm during her university years however this room of students had hung onto his every word. They accepted his powerful performance, not seeing the shadows under his eyes, nor the pallor of his face. They saw the authority of the man, and didn’t notice how he grew more unsteady towards the end.
Her phone rang, “Well?” asked Layla before Bec said anything.
“I saw him, I hid up the back and he didn’t see me. Why would he want to? He broke up with me.”
“Did he look okay to you?”
“He looked hungover and tired.”
“He has an appointment with Dr Brook Davis.”
Bec gasped, “The same doctor from a month ago.”
“The doctor has been trying to get in touch with him, they spoke today and he has an appointment in an hour. The doctor suggested he have someone come with him.”
“I can’t,” Bec protested, all the memories of her husband came flooding back.
“He has no one else.”
“He broke up with me.”
“Miss Garran, if you don’t mind me saying, we both know why he broke up with you. He has spent the last month drowning in the bottom of a bottle because he would rather be passed out than face being without you.”
“That’s unfair and untrue,” Bec hesitated, “How bad is it?”
“Miss Garran, the doctor has been quite insistent I get him to return his calls. Today he said it was becoming life and death.”
“I ask again, what does that have to do with me – he broke up with me?”
“Miss Garran, he asked me to package up the painting of the dragon and send it to you. He said there is no point in slaying the dragon if the girl isn’t waiting at the end of the story.”
“Oh,” Bec heard her voice echo in the empty auditorium. Remembering the many times they made love in front of the painting, laughing at how she tried to outbid him. “I never got the painting.”
“Miss Garran, he will probably fire me for doing this, but you should meet him at the doctor’s at three.”
Bec threw the phone across the room and listened as it tumbled behind chairs.
He pushed her away, taking the decision from her. Now she needed to find the strength to watch another man she loved fight the dragon.
Geoffrey hesitated before entering the surgery. The tests were a month ago and he avoided the results until now. There was still time to run before the hammer came down on his life. All he needed to do was turn around and walk away, find the nearest travel agent and purchase tickets on the next flight to anywhere or cruise. Until he heard the words, cancer would never be real.
“Hi.” Her soft, husky voice caught him off guard and his first impulse was to take her in his arms before he remembered he couldn’t risk hurting her.
“I thought I could trust Layla -, obviously I was wrong.” Pointedly he said, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Of course, I should,” Bec laughed and opened the door for them, “You were about to leave. Where were you going? A bar? Plane?”
When he hesitated, Bec took him by the hand, her fingers closed around his familiar and comforting. “Come on, what’s the worse thing that could happen?”
“If you have to ask …” Geoffrey let her lead him inside. The soft, classical music meant to be calming and reassuring, as did the enormous fish tank in the corner.
Geoffrey didn’t know how to talk to Bec after the way he ended things between them. He wanted to protect her from the possibility of being hurt by his fight. Now she was here with him and he couldn’t turn her away.
He watched Bec flick through magazines and smiled as she made small talk with the receptionist. He needed her.
The thought shocked him but the more he tried to suppress it, the more it invaded his thoughts and heart. Geoffrey Swains, the great Professor Swains needed Rebecca Garran.
As Dr Davis called him to the office, Geoffrey continued to fight his internal conflict. With Bec by his side, perhaps he could face anything.
Bec knew how hard Geoffrey wanted to push her away and if she didn’t see the glimmer of love in his eyes when he first saw her, she would have let him. The pain from being a widow was too fresh to walk into another fight either naively or without knowing the man was worth it.
Sitting in the car park, she saw him arrive and watched as he strode from the car to the surgery, stopping at the door. Up until then, she thought all of Layla’s concerns were without merit. When she saw him struggle whether to go inside or not, she understood everything. Why he pushed her away, why he locked himself away from the world for the last month.
All her own hurt and humiliation at the way he broke her heart was irrelevant. At the very least, she wanted to be the friend he would need and challenge him to meet the fight head on.
Bec stroked his hand as they listened to the doctor, all the words becoming a blur. She would research prostate cancer and the treatments later, now she need to be supportive for Geoffrey. She watched his face, looking for a reaction and finding none. He was stoic, emotionless, only the sl
ightest tremor of his hand gave her a hint of his mind.
“Geoffrey, it is not as bad as it might seem, talk to this wonderful woman here and come back to me with any questions. My secretary will make the appointments with the radiation oncologist and social worker. No arguing – you know it takes a team to beat this disease.”
“Dragon,” Bec heard Geoffrey mutter.
“What?” asked Dr Davis.
“Doc, you should know my wife fought cancer for five years before she died. We called it ‘the dragon’ because no matter how hard we fought, the cancer kept coming back stronger and with more fire.”
“Dragon, I like it. Well, medicine has come a long way in dragon slaying and I am confident we are up for the challenge.”
“Thank you, doctor, we’ll be in touch,” Bec shook his hand before Geoffrey opened the door for her and they left. She followed him to his car, “We are going for coffee, no arguments.”
Geoffrey drove them to a quiet suburban coffee shop, away from his home, her home, or the university. Bec smiled at the choice of neutral ground – a good place to start again.
“So, what did you hear?” she started after the waitress left them with their coffees.
“Cancer, prostate. The hormone treatments aren’t an option and he thinks we caught it in the early stages of advancement.” He took a sip, “You don’t need to be here. We broke up, and I can deal with this on my own.”
“Geoffrey, you don’t have a choice – you will be dealing with this on your own. Every night when you have the sweats, when the pain comes, when the fear is overwhelming – you will be on your own. The most I can be is a sounding board and a friend. Someone you can turn to when you need a second pair of ears at an appointment, someone who will remind you to take a deep breath and not to do something stupid like opening another bottle to drown in self pity.”
“Whatever,” he said, dismissing her with his hand.
For the first time, Bec felt anger brewing. She gave the advice she wished she had been able to tell her husband. He refused to let her watch him get sick from the treatment, and at the time she wasn’t strong enough to stand by him. This time, no matter what Geoffrey did, she would not be pushed aside. She would put her own feelings for the man aside and focus on being the friend he needed.
Trusting his Heart Page 8