The Accidental Romeo (8 page)

‘We were in my office,’ Marnie said. ‘We were having our supper break and talking about...’ She glanced at Harry, who filled in for her.

‘The Harry problem?’

‘The staff issues,’ Marnie said. ‘He was actually talking about you. How you’d managed to have a career but how he couldn’t have been an emergency doctor without all your support.’ There was a flash of tears in Marnie’s eyes as she recalled the conversation, such a simple one at the time but it was so much more meaningful now. Marjorie gave a grateful smile as Marnie recalled Dr Vermont’s final moments, gave her the comfort of knowing he had been speaking about his wife and a marriage that had so clearly worked.

‘He was telling me how you used to keep a flask of coffee by the bedside. Then he just stopped speaking, Marjorie,’ Marnie said. ‘There was no pain, no discomfort, I promise you that. For a moment I honestly thought that he’d fallen asleep...’

She heard a sniff and looked over. It was Harry. He’d been holding Marjorie’s hand but now it was more that she was holding his.

‘He thought the world of you,’ Marjorie said to Harry, and Marnie watched as Harry nodded.

She felt as if she was glimpsing something incredibly private as, just for a moment, Harry gave in to his grief and screwed up his face, trying and failing not to weep.

‘When you came to do your residency, he said what a great emergency doctor you’d make,’ Marjorie said, and Harry nodded again but pulled himself together, when perhaps he didn’t have to. Dr Vermont and Marjorie were, Marnie was fast realising, so much more than a colleague and his wife to Harry. They clearly went back years.

Marjorie went to sit with her husband again and to speak with her family, who were starting to arrive.

It was a wretched night and looked no better by morning. Marnie had placed the department on bypass so that no ambulances were bringing patients in, though the walking wounded still trickled in. There were a couple of ward nurses helping out and one of the surgeons had come down to assist too. The nursing staff had known Dr Vermont for a lot longer than she had and needed each other more than they needed her, so Marnie took herself around to the observation ward and sat with the twins. She went through the doctors’ rosters and tried to work out how the department could possibly work without even one senior doctor.

‘Are you okay?’ Harry came in a little later to check on the twins. He didn’t want to wake them again and also wanted to be there to tell the day staff the sad news himself when they started to arrive.

‘Of course.’ Marnie nodded. ‘You?’

‘I just can’t take it in,’ Harry admitted, sitting down at the desk beside her and talking in a low voice so as not to disturb the twins. Harry picked up the doctors’ roster. It was already a mess—a mass of red crossings-out and locums and gaps in the schedule, and that had been before Dr Vermont had so suddenly died.

‘So much for leaving,’ Harry said.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know,’ Harry admitted. ‘I’ve just about used up every last favour. I’ll have to do something, though. I simply can’t imagine this place without him. He and Marjorie were so good to me when Jill had her accident...’ He hesitated, not sure if Marnie was interested in hearing his thoughts or if she was just being polite.

‘Go on,’ Marnie offered, but Harry looked over at the sleeping twins and shook his head. ‘Not here.’

They moved to the small kitchenette where they could talk and still keep an eye on the children.

‘Jill was on ICU for two weeks after the accident.’ Harry paused for a moment, which he so rarely did—he simply didn’t have the time or the reserves to examine the past, but the emotion of losing such a close friend and colleague forced a moment of reflection. ‘Jill had massive head injuries.’

‘How?’

‘A car accident. The only saving grace was that she didn’t have the twins with her at the time. I knew as soon as I saw her that things were never going to be the same again and so did Dr Vermont. Even if she had lived, her injuries were so severe that things would never have been the same,’ Harry explained. ‘Dr Vermont told me that the time Jill was on ICU was my time. I can’t really explain it, but we both knew at some level how difficult things would be, whether she lived or died. Cathy, my sister, had the twins and brought them in now and then to see their mum.

‘Dr Vermont took care of the department. Marjorie brought dinner in for me every night and clothes, and just did so many things for me that I didn’t even notice. I was so focused on the time I had left with Jill. I think I did all my grieving in ICU. I have bad days of course, but, really, when she died it wasn’t about Jill, or Jill and I any more, or me, it was about the twins and work and just surviving.’ He looked at Marnie, suddenly aware that his words might be hurting her for reasons of her own. ‘Was it the same for you?’

‘No,’ Marnie admitted. ‘The whole time Declan was in ICU I was convincing myself that he’d live and making plans for taking him home. Right till the last day I thought that he’d make it.’ Marnie shook her head—she just didn’t want to go there.

* * *

As the day staff arrived and the news was broken there were tears on the floor and more tears in the staffroom. Marnie worked her way through the contact sheets, ringing the staff who were not on duty today, or not due in till later, to let them know what had happened.

It was a department in mourning but, of course, the patients continued to arrive.

‘I’ve come to get the twins.’ It was Harry’s sister, Marnie could tell. Her face was strained and yet she gave Harry a hug when he came over.

‘I’m sorry, Harry. I know he meant the world to you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘The thing is...’

Harry halted her.

‘I know you can’t keep doing this,’ Harry said for her. ‘If you can just help me out till the funeral.’

It was close to eleven by the time Marnie got home and she had to be back there at eight for her night shift.

Despite the warmth of the house, Marnie was shivering as she climbed into bed and recalled her last conversation with Dr Vermont.

This too will pass.

Yes, Marnie thought, her body tired but her mind just too busy for sleeping.

When?

CHAPTER NINE

T
HERE
WEREN
’
T
JUST
cracks appearing, there were gaping holes in the roster and a couple of nights Marnie was close to putting the department on bypass again. Harry’s sister had taken the children for the rest of the week and he was covering the department as best he could but, of course, he couldn’t work twenty-four hours a day. He told Admim that he would work till the funeral on Thursday but, after that, it was up to them to find a replacement.

Sheldon was looking boot-faced when he came on duty on the morning of the funeral to work alongside yet another locum and one he didn’t particularly like.

‘Harry’s hardly going to miss the funeral,’ Marnie pointed out. ‘But cover’s been arranged for the weekend. Helen Cummings is covering the night shifts and she’s really good. I worked with her a lot at the Royal...’

‘What about next week?’ Sheldon said, but Marnie had no answer.

‘Who’s in charge this morning?’ Lillian asked.

Marnie explained what had been arranged. ‘Miriam’s working till ten then going to the funeral. I’m going to have a couple of hours’ sleep in the on-call room and then we’re running a skeleton staff till two p.m. and the place will be on bypass.’

Marnie watched Lillian’s lips disappear. Putting the department on bypass cost the hospital a lot in fines, but Marnie almost dared Lillian to question the decision on the day of Dr Vermont’s funeral. It was going to be huge—several surgical lists had been rescheduled so that colleagues could pay their respects, a huge entourage would be leaving from the hospital, then there would be drinks and refreshments for those who wanted them after the official wake. Whoever had said no one was indispensable had never met Dr Vermont.

‘We’re all trying our best,’ Marnie said. ‘I called Dr Cooper but he can’t start any sooner as he’s working his notice till the last day. I think I might have to call Juan...’

‘He’s on his honeymoon.’ Even the hard-nosed Lillian was reluctant to go that far, or perhaps she knew Juan too well. He was one of the rare few who had worked to get balance in his life and knew his priorities. Terminating his honeymoon wouldn’t be an option. ‘I doubt he’s going to fly back from Argentina,’ Lillian said, but Marnie just shrugged.

‘Well, he is a consultant, perhaps he’d want to know that the place is collapsing.’

‘Rather you than me,’ Lillian said.

Marnie checked the local time in Argentina on the computer and, seeing it was early evening, decided to give it a try, but even the switchboard operator was reluctant to give her an outside line.

‘Yes, it’s a mobile I’m trying to call!’ Marnie rolled her eyes at Miriam, who had just come on. ‘Well, I don’t know his landline number in Argentina, he could be anywhere. I just want to be put through to his mobile...’ She was halted from continuing as the receiver was taken from her hand. Marnie turned to the delicious sight of Harry in a black suit and tie and, though it was expertly knotted, it was just a tiny bit off centre and his collar needed arranging, but thankfully she managed to resist, focusing instead on the gorgeous waft of cologne.

‘Our mistake,’ Harry said to the switchboard operator. He hung up the phone and then looked down at Marnie. ‘You’d really do it, wouldn’t you?’

‘Watch me!’ Marnie said, trying to get at the phone, but Harry blocked her.

‘You cannot call a man on his honeymoon to fly back to work.’ Harry hadn’t done a lot of smiling this week and he was trying not to now as he looked down in disbelief at Marnie. ‘We’re trying to prevent the next consultant dropping dead from a heart attack, Marnie.’

‘Well, I’d want to know.’

‘Really?’ Harry checked. ‘Lying by the pool on your honeymoon, next to the man of your dreams, you’d really want a phone call telling you to get back here.’

‘Ha,’ Marnie said. ‘I hate sunbathing and there’ll be no ring on this finger...’ She held up that perfect finger in an almost inappropriate gesture. ‘Anyway, Harry, you’ve no right to be stopping me. Soon this place won’t be your problem any more.’

‘Well, for this morning it still is and you are not ringing Juan.’

‘Fine,’ Marnie said, and turned to Miriam. ‘I’m going to the doctors’ on-call room to have a sleep. Wake me when you want to start getting ready for the funeral.’ She looked back to Harry. ‘Good luck today. Are you speaking?’

‘I am.’ Harry grimaced. ‘I’m just going to go and get my car washed and then—’

‘You should have washed it on your way home last night.’

‘I was tired.’

‘Bet you wish you’d done it last night this morning!’

‘No,’ Harry lied. ‘Actually, I’m going round to my office now to read through the speech and then go and sort out the car...’

‘Keep it short.’

‘Sorry?’ She was telling him how to speak at a funeral!

‘Short’s better,’ Marnie said.

‘This from a woman who never stops talking? So you’re an expert in funerals now, are you?’

‘Actually, now you mention it...’ She gave him a smile but then it turned to a more sympathetic one. ‘I hope it goes as well as it can.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Harry.’ She looked up at him, those blue eyes blazing, her lips worrying. ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t stop myself. It is a funeral you’re going to after all...’ Two very cold but terribly beautiful hands were at his neck, fixing his collar and tie.

‘I can dress myself.’

‘I know,’ Marnie said, ‘but you were right, Kelly.’ She briefly glanced at Kelly, whose cheeks turned to ruby as she found out first hand that Marnie knew exactly what was being said about her. ‘I think I do have a touch of OCD and I just cannot let you go without fixing your collar, Harry.’ Oh, it was perfect now, collar down, knot in the centre. ‘After all, you’re representing the department!’

It wasn’t intimate in the least, Harry told himself, and that was confirmed two minutes later when he saw her in the corridor, dusting down Eric’s shoulders with a lint brush she just happened to keep in her office.

No, it wasn’t intimate, but why could he still feel her fingers on his neck?

Why, when he saw from his office Marnie disappearing into the on-call room, did he sit there, wondering if she’d undress for bed?

Oh, help, Harry thought as she came out shoeless in stockinged feet with her hair down and returned a moment later with a pair of scrubs in her hand to change from that navy dress into pyjamas.

No, the little finger gesture hadn’t been inappropriate—what was inappropriate was his thoughts on the morning of Dr Vermont’s funeral.

He got up and closed the door, so as not to think of her.

It didn’t work.

She’d drive you crazy, Harry told himself.

And as for bed, Harry attempted to alleviate the ache in his groin with the thought of Marnie moaning that she’d just changed the sheets, or maybe putting little towels down in case he dared to so much as spill a drop.

‘Filthy business!’
He could almost hear her saying it and, yes, that thought almost worked, except he remembered only too well their kiss and two minutes later Harry gave up focusing on the speech and headed out to get the car washed.

Anything for the distraction.

Marnie, his mind had decided, would be deliciously filthy.

* * *

‘Marnie!’

Marnie peeled her eyes open as she heard Miriam’s voice at the door. ‘Marnie.’

‘I’m up,’ Marnie called, and on autopilot headed to the sink and brushed her teeth. There was
nothing
worse than a two-hour sleep after a night shift.

Well, there was a whole lot worse, Marnie told herself as she washed her face, but the point she was making to herself was that getting up from a short sleep, when you really needed a long one, was one of the reasons she had always loathed nights.

Marnie stood shivering in scrubs and a cardigan in the kitchen, pouring herself a very strong coffee as Harry breezed in with a load of glasses that were on loan to the department. He did a double-take when he saw the usually very groomed Marnie a good inch shorter without her low heels and as pale as the milk she was pouring into her coffee.

‘I know.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘It should be me they’re burying today.’

She dealt with death and all the horrible stuff with a black, wry humour that would offend some, but never him. Somehow, on not quite Harry’s worst day, but it was certainly there in the rankings, she made him smile.

It felt strange as everyone started to leave. The department was on bypass and quiet, but all morning it had been a hub of activity, a meeting centre. Abby’s tears had already started as everyone filed out to get into the cars and Harry put his arm around Abby and then patted his pockets.

‘Here,’ Marnie said, handing him a box of tissues from the bench, and then they were gone.

The department was eerily quiet. The locum was calm and efficient with the few patients they had but there was an immense sadness that simply wouldn’t abate. Every time Marnie looked at the clock or paused a moment she thought about that last conversation with Dr Vermont or wondered how Marjorie was faring.

Harry too.

For that morning, at least, the focus wasn’t on rosters or filling in shifts, it was on the huge loss—the tremendous gap that a wonderful man had left.

Staff started to arrive early in the afternoon and the staffroom filled with hospital personnel—those who had been to the funeral and those who hadn’t been able to get away for it.

‘How was it?’ Marnie asked Harry. He seemed beyond exhausted, but had that grim-faced look of just pushing through.

‘Awful.’ Harry wasn’t stopping. ‘I just came in to drop some supplies off. Marjorie asked me to take some of the food from the wake for everyone here. I told her it had all been catered but she wanted to contribute to it too. Can you help me get some stuff out of the car?’

‘Sure.’

‘Where are the twins today?’ Marnie asked, as they walked out into the sunshine on what would normally feel a glorious day.

‘At Cathy’s till this evening.’ There were mountains of food, tray after tray of sandwiches and boxes of drinks, and they ended up loading one of the gurneys and covering it with a sheet before pushing it through the department and round to the staffroom.

‘So, this is your last day?’ Marnie asked.

‘It has to be,’ Harry said, as they unloaded the food and set up. ‘Cathy’s had to take this week off work.’ He didn’t want to think about it now—for the most part, they had Friday and the weekend covered.

‘You go home, Marnie.’ Miriam, back from the funeral, her eyes red rimmed, took over unloading the boxes. ‘You must be exhausted. I hope you’re not driving.’

‘No.’ Marnie shook her head. ‘I’m taking a taxi.’

‘I’ll drive you,’ Harry said.

‘Shouldn’t you stay for a bit...?’ Marnie started, and then stopped. After all, it was the story of Harry’s life at the moment and the reason he had no option but to quit his job.

‘They’re talking about building an extension in his name,’ Harry said. As they walked to his car, Marnie was shivering again. ‘The Vermont Wing.’

‘That would be nice.’

‘Well, there won’t be a Worthington Wing.’

‘Just as well,’ Marnie said as they climbed into his car. ‘Try getting your lips around that after a night shift.’

Harry actually laughed. ‘Beach Road?’ he said, because he remembered everything she had ever told him.

‘The dodgy end.’ Marnie smiled.

‘I can’t believe he won’t get to retire,’ Harry said as they drove out of the hospital. His phone was bleeping away but he just ignored it. ‘Though he’d have hated retirement—even Marjorie said as much—he loved that place.’

‘You do too.’

Emotional blackmail wasn’t going to work on Harry. He never took his eyes off the road. ‘I love my kids. I need to put them first. Charlotte’s becoming more precocious by the minute, Adam...’ He liked it that she didn’t push things, just waited as he voiced a potential problem that he hadn’t discussed with anyone. ‘I think he’s got a speech delay.’ His knuckles were white on the wheel. ‘I’ve been thinking it for months and I haven’t even had time to do a thing about it.’

‘Looks like I’ll be ringing Juan to come back from his honeymoon, then.’

‘You really aren’t romantic?’

‘Not at all,’ Marnie said. ‘Men always have to complicate things.’ She watched as Harry’s tense mouth curved into a smile—his problem was the same, but with women, of course. ‘They say they want an independent woman,’ Marnie continued. ‘They insist they do but then they get all misty-eyed and start to ask strange things like could I possibly iron a shirt? Or they think that just because you had sex last night it means you’re going to be overtaken by this sudden urge to cook for them...’

Harry laughed, really laughed, for the first time since he’d taken the call about Dr Vermont. It wasn’t the safest conversation to be having right now. He turned and glanced at her. There was a smile on her lips as she looked out of the window, a smile that told him she knew she was flirting. His phone bleeped again. Harry went to get it, but seeing cyclists up ahead knew better than to risk it, but he was worried that it might be work. ‘Can you get it out my pocket?’

She most certainly could.

Harry was used to making strange requests such as that one, used to concentrating on stitching, or something similar, as someone found his phone and held it for him to speak into. He could feel her bony fingers against his chest as her hand slipped inside his jacket and Marnie could feel the heat from his skin through his shirt.

‘Mind on the road, Harry,’ Marnie said, and he smiled. The air was almost crackling between them. ‘You’ve a text from Cathy.’

‘Which means Charlotte,’ Harry translated. ‘At least it isn’t work.’

‘What you need,’ Marnie said, ‘is a wife.’

‘I’ve got one,’ Harry said, and in a gesture that certainly wasn’t insolent—in fact, for Marnie it was the nicest thing he could have done—Harry held up his ring finger.

‘I know,’ Marnie said, because she did know. She had a son. It didn’t go away because time had passed.

He pulled up at her house and opened up the message.