Twins for Christmas (7 page)

R
ORY WAS PUTTING
 
the finishing touches on a magnificent bandage, but he knew that Kate was returning to the desk. He could feel her approach with a curious mix of pleasure and tension.

He’d added to that tension considerably. Of course she didn’t want to marry him. And she was quite right. There was nothing unusual about women raising families on their own. Where had that idiotic suggestion of marriage come from, anyway? He’d only gone in there with the intention of taking the first step towards involvement. To offer assistance and support.

He ripped off a length of tape to hold the end of the bandage in place.

They barely knew each other. One night together. Hardly enough time to warrant even thinking of the possibility of being a couple. Except that they’d worked together for a long time. Long enough to know each other very well on a professional basis. He liked Kate. He respected her.

He was very grateful to her. And, thanks to that gratitude, she had been in his head frequently for months, and it feltcuriously as though he knew everything he needed to know about Kate Simpson.

One more strip of tape should do the trick. Rory pressed gently as he attached it to Eve’s knee.

He should have expected that fierce streak of independence in Kate. She’d been left to cope alone, and that was exactly what she’d done. What he would have expected her to do. There had always been an aura of… What was it about Kate?
 
Peace
 
was the best word he could come up with. She was quiet and competent, and a bit of a loner in some ways. Happy with her own company. She had rarely joined in the social events that Rory’s life had revolved around.

They had been complete op po sites.

But Rory had changed. He had faced solitude for the first time in his life, and there was nothing quite like Outback Australia to give you that experience. He’d been wrong in thinking he had to face his past tonight. He’d done that, hadn’t he? He was in a very different place than he had been six months ago.

Different enough to think that his future could change? That he could marry and have a family dependent on him?

No. If he stopped to think about it he knew the prospect would be terrifying. ‘I don’t
 
think
 
you need a wheelchair, but let’s see, shall we?’ Rory put Eve carefully back on the floor. ‘Testing…’ he said solemnly. ‘Weight-bearing? Check. Walking? Check.’ He tugged one of Eve’s braids gently. ‘Better?’

Eve nodded and grinned.

‘Can you say thank you?’ Lucy prompted.

Eve shook her head, but as Lucy was leading her back to the relatives’ room, she turned to smile at Rory.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

Rory smiled back, but he could feel a painful lump in his throat. God, he’d missed this. That touch on his heart when he’d been able to make a difference. To take away someone’s pain. To make life a little bit better. Especially for a child.

But he couldn’t go back. He’d moved on now. It was time, in fact, to make sure his mother was in the best of care and then go home. They were just waiting for a consult from the cardiology registrar and for a bed to come available on the ward now. The Code Red was over and there was nothing else Rory needed to do. Apart from making sure he left an opening for further communication with Kate, that was. He couldn’t leave with things the way they were. He leaned over the counter.

‘Why did you tell me?’ he asked quietly. ‘If you didn’t want me to be involved?’

‘You had a right to know.’

‘Do I have a right to be involved, as well?’

‘Of course.’ Kate seemed to be taking a steadying breath, but she didn’t look up. ‘If you’re not somewhere down a mine in Outback Australia.’

‘I won’t be,’ Rory said, knowing it was true. ‘I’m not going back, Kate. I’m staying right here.’ For his mother. And now more for Kate.

Braden Foster was dumping some patient notes on the end of the counter where Eve had been sitting. His head turned sharply sideways.

‘You’re coming back?’ He moved to grip Rory’s shoulder. ‘That’s the best Christmas present I could get. I’ve only been filling in, you know. We were all waiting for you to reappear.’

No.
 
He’d moved on. Yet why did Braden’s words give him a curious thrill that felt oddly like excitement? He didn’t want to come back to this. Or maybe he did want to. But he couldn’t. Yes, he’d won with Michael tonight, but that statistical bomb was still ticking and it was that much closer to detonating.

Maybe he’d felt that he might have coped because Kate was there, but she wouldn’t be around to help him pick up the pieces if he did come back, would she?

She’d be away from work. Raising his children.

Without him.

T
HERE WAS ONE HOUR
 
and twenty-nine minutes left until the start of Christmas Day.

Twenty-nine minutes until Kate’s shift was due to finish.

‘You OK, Kate?’

‘I’m fine, thanks, Braden.’

‘Still busy?’

‘Not really. I’m up to date with the paperwork, and I’ve just spent some time with Mary Ballantyne going over the head injury watch-list. She’s a bit worried about taking Wally home.’

‘I’ll talk to her. His CT scan was absolutely fine. It’s only a mild concussion.’

Kate nodded. ‘He was lucky. How’s Michael doing?’

‘Very well. But they’ll keep him in ICU until they’re sure the airway isn’t compromised by any swelling.’ Braden Foster moved to one side to allow an orderly to approach the desk.

‘I’m here for a Mrs McCulloch?’ the orderly said to Kate. ‘To go to the cardiology ward.’

‘Cubicle 3,’ Kate told him. ‘Her son is with her. Dr McCulloch.’

The reminder that they were dealing with the relative of someone who had been a senior staff member here was not lost on Braden.

‘We need someone to accompany them.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Hand-over’s due to start any minute, and I need to talk to Mary.’

They both looked around the department. The registrars and other doctors were all busy. So were the nurses, now thin on the ground as many were heading to the office for the shift hand-over. Kate could see an ambulance pulling into the bay outside. Her gaze shifted, and she saw the orderly kick off the brakes on the bed he was about to move.

‘Kate? Would you mind doing the honours?’

She hesitated for just a moment. It was a long walk to the cardiology ward. Not that weariness was the reason for her hesitation. It was more the thought of the return journey without Rory’s mother and the orderly.

It would just be her and Rory. And long, quiet, empty corridors.

But they needed to talk, didn’t they? Maybe it would be better to get it over with now than to spend her Christmas Day agonising over what the future held for herself and her babies.

‘Kate?’

Marcella’s bed was moving. Nearly level with the desk. Kate gave a single nod and got to her feet. She picked up the patient notes from the end of the counter and fell into step beside Rory.

The orderly was pushing the bottom end of the bed. A big paper bag labelled ‘Patient Property’ was on the pale blue cover between the end and the lump that was Marcella’s feet. Rory had one hand on the side of the bed beside his mother’s pillow, helping to steer. His other hand steadied the bag of IV fluids that was swinging with the movement.

Nobody said anything. Marcella’s eyes were open, but she stared at the ceiling moving overhead and seemed unaware of what was happening. They left the hum of noise in the casualty department behind them as the double doors swung closed. To one side Kate caught a glimpse of the relatives’ room, and the shapes of children fast asleep on the couches. Mary Ballantyne sat in an armchair, a toddler asleep in her arms.

The corridor leading to the empty outpatient waiting area was silent, but then they turned a corner into the corridor that would take them to the lift they required to reach the third floor of St Bethel’s. On the far side of the lifts was the hospital chapel, and a midnight carol service was clearly in progress. The sweet sound of ‘Silent Night’ filled the dimly lit corridor and brought the sting of tears to Kate’s eyes.

What was it about Christmas songs that created such a sense of nostalgia? The yearning for the kind of uncomplicated joy that childhood allowed for?

The orderly pushed the button to summon a service lift that was large enough to accommodate a bed. The overhead panel indicated its current position to be on the fifth floor, and Kate closed her eyes for a moment, pulling the comfort of the music around her.

It was easy to remember the best that this time of year was capable of bestowing. The celebration of family. Her mind was only too happy to escape the tense silence of the people around her by putting on a rapid fantasy slideshow that was a mix of memories and hope for the future.

A beautifully decorated tree.

A glass of milk and cookies waiting for Father Christmas.

A cold foray into a dark garden to put out a bucket of water and a handful of hay for the reindeer.

The smell of cinnamon and special treats.

Waiting until the children were asleep before taking brightly wrapped parcels from their hiding places and arranging them under the tree.

Firelight and fairylights and mistletoe.

And…and…
Rory.

The yearning was so intense it was physically painful. Kate’s eyes snapped open as the discordant ‘ping’ announced the arrival of the lift just as the carol was ending in the background.

Rory had moved to the other side of the bed. Opposite Kate. He was holding his mother’s hand, but it was Kate he was looking at—and his face was so sombre she had the impression he had guessed her thoughts.

Was he thinking about Christmases to come? The fractured family they would represent? The inconvenience and amount of compromise that might be necessary?

It was hard to think of anything else
 
but
 
Christmas celebrations once they reached the ward. The staff up here had gone all out to make the surroundings festive for people unfortunate enough to be confined to a hospital bed at this time of year.

Garlands of tinsel were strung across the central corridor. Snowflake patterns had been sprayed onto the windows of the rooms. An enormous Christmas tree with coloured lights was positioned by the ward office, and it had an impressive pile of gifts beneath it.

‘We’ve got a private room for your mother,’ the charge nurse told Rory. ‘It’s a full on day here tomorrow, with the chaplain visiting everyone and carol singers and Christmas dinner. You’re most welcome to come and join in the fun.’

Rory smiled, but Kate had the impression he might be gritting his teeth.

‘I’ll be in to visit, of course,’ he said. ‘But I think the festivities might be a bit much for my mother. She’s not aware of the season and she needs to rest.’

They settled Marcella into her room, and the electrodes for the cardiac monitor were put in place and attached to a monitor. Marcella was still staring at the ceiling, taking no notice of what was happening around her. A nurse raised the sides of the bed.

‘I’ll have a nurse sitting with her as much of the time as possible. Is she likely to try wandering?’

‘I doubt she’s up to climbing over these rails.’ Rory leaned over and smoothed his mother’s hair. ‘
A domani,
 
Mamma,’ he murmured.
 
‘Buon Natale.’

‘Buon Natale,’
 
Marcella echoed. She didn’t look at Rory, but she smiled sweetly.
 
‘Buon Natale,’
 
she said again as Kate followed Rory from the room.
 
‘Buon Natale…’

‘That means Happy Christmas?’

‘Yeah.’ It had touched something deep within Rory, hearing the seasonal greeting in his mother’s native Italian. Something very poignant.

‘She sounded happy.’

Rory sighed as he stepped into the lift. ‘I don’t think “happy” is a word I’ve associated with my mother for thirty years.’ But he could hear her voice again as the lift descended. See that smile. ‘You’re right,’ he said as the doors opened again. ‘She seemed…content.’

‘You sound surprised.’

He tilted his head to acknowledge the correct assumption. ‘Christmas was always the hardest time of year for my family. After Jamie died.’

Kate was walking beside him. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. He could look down and see the gleam of gold in the honey-blonde waves of her hair. She was so small. Why was there such a large amount of comfort to be found in her presence?

‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘To Jamie?’

This wasn’t comforting. It wasn’t something Rory talked about to anyone. Ever. But Kate wasn’t like anyone else, was she?

She had seen him…
saved
 
him…when he was at his lowest. She was carrying his babies. She had the right to know the story of their father. With his mother left content upstairs, it seemed an appropriate time to take away the barrier he’d always kept between his past and his future.

‘We were walking to school,’ he said quietly. ‘A car came around the corner too fast, mounted the kerb and hit Jamie. He died instantly.’

‘Oh,
 
God
!’ Kate whispered in horror. ‘And you were right beside him? How old were you?’

‘Seven.’

‘Michael’s age.’ The words were so quiet Rory barely heard them, yet he could hear her comprehension of exactly what he’d been through tonight.

They walked in silence for a minute. Along a totally deserted, dimly lit corridor.

And then Kate spoke. ‘That must have been so lonely for you.’

Rory found his steps slowing unconsciously. How had she done that? Touched on the single emotion that had coloured his world for ever after that day?

‘Why do you say that?’ His words sounded harsh. He stopped. He had to watch Kate. To listen to what she had to say. He didn’t want even the distraction of walking. ‘I was the lucky one. I was walking on the inside of the footpath. I didn’t even get a scratch.’

Kate’s eyes looked over-bright as she looked up at him. ‘Your parents had each other,’ she said slowly. ‘And they still had you. You lost your
 
twin.
’

Rory swallowed hard. ‘Yeah.’

‘Do you have any other brothers or sisters?’

‘No.’

‘And your mother never got over losing Jamie.’ It was a statement, not a question, but Rory answered anyway.

‘I don’t think she could. Dad tried to help. So did the doctors. I did my best, but the only comfort she found was to shut herself away. She gave up on living. Slowly. Inexorably. By the time Dad died there was nothing left. Except me. And I’d always been a reminder of what she’d lost.’

‘That’s awful,’ Kate said fiercely. ‘It wasn’t
 
your
 
fault.’

‘No.’

‘But it felt like it, didn’t it?’ Kate held his gaze and Rory saw a tear escape and roll down her face. ‘Dear God, Rory, you were only
seven.
’

He caught the tear with his fingers, but he couldn’t quite swallow the lump in his throat.

‘You didn’t deserve that,’ Kate said with a catch in her voice. ‘Nobody does. I’m so sorry, Rory.’

He opened his mouth, intent on saying that he didn’t need anybody to feel sorry for him, but no words emerged.

‘I’m sorry you had to carry a burden like that,’ Kate continued softly. ‘And I’m sorry your parents couldn’t find a way through their grief and realise how blessed they still were.’ She gave a sniff and let her breath out in a sigh. ‘But things shape our lives, and maybe it was because of Jamie that you ended up becoming a doctor. If your mother could understand how many lives you save, and how many people you help when
 
they
 
have terrible things happen to them, she would be
 
so
 
proud of you.’

She caught her breath. ‘
Why
 
wasn’t it enough?’ she asked. ‘
That
 
day? When you saved that little boy?’

She could see how hard it was for him. He closed his eyes and swallowed noticeably. Then he opened his eyes and looked directly into hers.

‘Do you remember what happened earlier on in that shift?’

Kate nodded. ‘I remember it all. A compound tib and fib. Big MI. Appendicitis. The fish-hook. You did a wonderful job stitching that man’s hand. I’ll bet he didn’t even end up with a scar.’

‘Do you remember what happened when I was doing that job? The ambulance that arrived when I was halfway through the incision to get the hook out?’

‘The DOA?’ Kate nodded again, but her frown was a little puzzled. Of course it affected everybody when that happened. A sombre ripple would go through the whole department even when the details had not been discussed. And they hadn’t been that day. Braden had said nothing, so why did it have extra significance for Rory? ‘But it was Braden who dealt with that,’ she said slowly.

‘And it was me that Braden came to talk to. To tell me it had been a kid. A boy on his way to school who should have been safe because he was using the zebra crossing to get over the road.’

‘Oh, no!’ Kate breathed. The pull back in time would have been
 
so
 
hard, and nobody knew about Rory’s history so there would have been no one for
 
him
 
to talk to.

‘Braden was almost in tears,’ Rory continued. ‘Said he could only imagine how devastating it was going to be for the kid’s family.’

‘But you didn’t have to imagine, did you?’ Kate asked softly. ‘You knew.’

Rory gave a slow, single nod. ‘I couldn’t think of anything else for the rest of that day. I was distracted, and it could have meant the death of that little boy with meningitis. I’d lost the ability to focus and the risk was terrifying. I had to get out. And stay out. For everyone’s sake. But I knew I was leaving what I’d wanted to do for the rest of my life and it was tearing me into pieces.’