Sydney Harbour Hospital: Tom's Redemption (20 page)

Tom mentally filled in blanks that the ‘some years’ had most likely been spent in a refugee camp. He knew how hard the struggle out of poverty was and he’d not had to cope with the language barrier. ‘How are you finding medical school?’

‘I am honoured to be here.’

‘I’m sure you’ll make the most of your opportunity, then. Good to meet you, Akim.’ Feeling that the conversation was over, Tom unfurled his cane.

‘Not every teacher is like you.’

Blind? An ex-surgeon?
The zip of fury that had lessened in recent weeks roared through him and he worked on keeping the edge out of his voice. ‘No. They’re not.’

Akim sighed. ‘Sadly, no.’

Tom’s feet, which had been ready to move, suddenly stilled. ‘What do you mean?’

The student hesitated for a moment before saying, ‘I do not need to seek help from other students to understand your lectures.’

Shock at the frankness of the student lit a fire under his collegiate support. ‘I’m sure my colleagues would be happy to explain things if you’re not following their lectures.’

‘Often they use the same words over and over, which does not help in understanding.’

Sadly, Tom knew what he meant. Some of the older lecturers had been in the job for years and hadn’t realised that the world had changed, students had changed, and lecturing styles needed to keep pace.

‘I like how you use examples. It makes the theory real.’ Akim’s voice filled with appreciation. ‘I can picture it all and this helps when I am meeting patients. I can hear your voice and see the pictures in my head. I am now thinking of neurology for my future.’

‘Not neurosurgery?’ Tom joked. ‘I can’t have been doing my job very well, then.’

Akim’s hand touched his arm. ‘Believe me, Mr Jordan, you do your job very well. I am sad your lectures are finishing.’

You’re a fantastic teacher, Tom
.

Hayley’s voice suddenly broke through the barrier he’d imposed on everything to do with her, but as he patched up the breach he found himself fishing in his pocket for
a business card, which he held out to Akim. ‘Give me a call if you ever need a hand with your studies.’

Akim gasped. ‘You are very generous. Are you certain it would not bother you?’

You know, mate, you can call by any time
.

How many times had Mick said that to him? Every single time he’d seen him, whether it had been at Mick’s house or at school or on the footy field. Mick, who’d freely given so much of himself and by default had provided Tom with every thing he needed to achieve and create a positive life. Every patient he’d ever operated on to remove a brain tumour he’d done with Mick in mind.

You can’t do that any more
.

I bloody know that
.

Yeah, but can you see what you can do?

It was like hearing Mick’s voice again and right then he knew how he could keep Mick’s legacy going. Helping Jared had been done unconsciously.
This
would be different.

He reached out his hand and Akim gripped it. ‘The only bother would be if you didn’t ask me.’

‘In that case, I will not bother you often.’

Tom laughed. ‘Sounds like a plan, Akim. I’ll talk to you soon.’

On the walk home he thought about Akim and wondered how many other medical students there were whose English was their second language and who might need extra tutorial time. This led to thinking about Jared who’d headed back to finish school after realising that education was the key to improving his life, but still needed a lot of support to achieve his dream. By the time Tom slipped his key into the front door, his head was filled with ideas and excitement churned his gut. He hadn’t experienced such a work-related buzz since the accident and for the very
first time he could actually see a work future. One that he was driving rather than having it imposed on him. He couldn’t wait to share his thoughts and ideas with Hayley.

He stepped into the apartment and, like a punch to the chest, he remembered she’d gone. The piano was silent, her lingering perfume was now only a faint scent, and the clicks of his tongue as he navigated around the apartment reinforced to him that her clutter was long gone.

You asked her to go
.

It’s for the best
.

The first time he’d come home after she’d left he’d expected a rush of relief, but it hadn’t come. Neither had it come the next day and with each passing day it continued to be elusive. He didn’t understand because he knew he’d made the right decision. Made the right decision for both of them. Love didn’t survive what life threw at it. His parents were a perfect example of that.

Mick and Carol had made it work
.

Mick wasn’t blind
.

He dumped his stuff on the table. He’d ring Carol and tell her his ideas. Why hadn’t he thought of telling her first anyway, especially as the whole idea had been generated by his connection to Mick? Flicking open his phone, he said, ‘Carol.’

It started ringing and then a warm and familiar voice answered. ‘Tom! How lovely. I was just about to call you so how’s that for timing? I so enjoyed meeting Hayley at dinner the other night.’

A flicker of guilt washed through him that she telephoned him a lot more than he called her. He immediately told her about his idea, rather than talking about Hayley. ‘Of course, I have to sell it to Richard Hewitson, but I think I’ve some bargaining power.’

Carol laughed. ‘You’ve always had that. You were a
star negotiator at fourteen. I was surprised you didn’t go into law.’ Her voice sobered. ‘Mick was so proud of you the day you got your results and we both knew that you could go to uni and do whatever you put your mind to. If he was still with us he’d be thrilled at what you achieved before the accident and even more so about what you’re doing now. So what does Hayley think?’

He closed his eyes out of habit and blew out a slow breath. ‘I haven’t told her.’

‘Oh?’ The small sound was loaded with a thousand questions.

He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘It was never going to be a long-term thing.’

‘Why on earth not?’

He sighed, wishing he’d not answered Carol’s first question about Hayley. ‘You’ve always known I don’t do relationships, Carol, and I especially don’t do them now.’

‘You’re not seriously telling me that you’ve broken up with her because you’re blind?’

Carol’s incredulity spun around him, pulling and pushing at him until he felt unsteady on his feet. ‘I appreciate your concern, but it’s my life.’

‘You don’t appreciate my concern in the least, Tom,’ she snapped, ‘so don’t give me that nonsense. I know that anything to do with feelings always makes you uncomfortable and sends you into retreat. I’ve sat back for years watching you bury yourself in work so you can hold everyone who has ever wanted to care for you at bay. I might have only met Hayley once, but I could see the love she has for you clear on her face and how happy she makes you. If you’ve let her get away then you’re not only blind, you’re bloody stupid.’

Carol had never spoken to him like that in his life and
he didn’t know if he was shocked, angry or both. ‘Are you done?’

‘No. Do you love her?’

Carol’s question, so familiar to Hayley’s, hammered him. He hadn’t been able to answer it a week ago and he still couldn’t. He knew he cared for her, but love? ‘How the hell do I know if I do?’

She let out a long and exasperated sigh. ‘Do you enjoy being with her?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘No “buts”, Tom. Only “yes” or “no” answers. Is she the last person you think about when you go to sleep at night and the first person you want to see when you wake up?’

He thought of the last week when he’d hardly slept at all because he’d been constantly thinking of Hayley. He answered with a reluctant, ‘Yes.’

‘Since you broke it off with her, have you felt like you’ve been wading through mud and going through the motions of living?’

He tugged at his tie, which suddenly seemed to be choking him. ‘Yes.’

‘Did you think about telling her about your university plans before you rang me?’

Damn it
.

‘Tom?’

‘Yes.’

Carol’s excruciating questions continued. ‘Does the idea of spending the rest of your life with her scare you?’

He swallowed in relief. Finally, she’d asked a question where the answer didn’t feel like it was being hauled up with a piece of his soul. ‘Yes, which is why—’

‘Tom.’ Carol invoked her best schoolteacher tone.

‘When you think about
not
spending the rest of your life with her, does it scare you?’

The words sounded innocent enough and his immediate answer to himself was no, but as his mouth went to form the word he heard the clicking sound of a land mine being engaged. Abject fear tore through him, sweat beaded on his brow and he threw off his jacket. The answer ripped through him with the velocity of an exploding bomb.

Yes
.

Oh, hell, he loved her. He truly loved her. ‘Carol, I love her, but I can’t ask her to spend her life with me when I can’t offer her what she needs.’

‘And what does she need?’

‘A man who doesn’t need her.’

Carol gave a confused huff. ‘Coming from the most logical male I know, that answer makes no sense at all.’

His heart hammered hard and fast and despite feeling like he was being torn in two he admitted his worst fear. ‘I found myself depending on her and I’ve never depended on anyone. Not before I was blind and especially not now. She doesn’t need that in her life.’

‘No, she needs a man who loves her.’ Carol’s voice was quiet but the impact of her words was ear-shattering. ‘Tom, you’ve never been in love before and the logical people are the ones who are thrown most by love. It scares you, but know this. With love comes an amazing interdependence that strengthens individual independence. You’re stronger with her than you are without her.’

No one is completely independent of others and if they are, well, it’s a sad life and they’re not happy
.

Hayley’s words that he’d so quickly discarded were almost identical to Carol’s. Carol, who’d shared her life with Mick for twenty-five years and truly knew what love was through good times and through bad.

So does Hayley. Catch up!

He tried to moisten his dry lips with his tongue, but his mouth was parched. ‘Carol, I have to go.’

He didn’t wait for her reply.

CHAPTER TWELVE

H
AYLEY
stared up from her computer at the freshly painted plaster and the beautifully renovated decorative cornices, and wished her heart could be restored so easily. Her little cottage glowed from its hailstorm-imposed redecoration, looking like a woman after a complete make-over. She, on the other hand, knew her hair was lank, that her comfort clothes needed a wash and that she looked a total mess. Sadder still, she was having trouble caring.

The irony of it all was that because of her therapy she was actually getting more hours of uninterrupted sleep than she’d had in years, but not even that was enough to remove the black rings from under her eyes or to fill in the hollows in her cheeks. The theatre staff had noticed and Theo had fussed, Evie had tried to draw her out the night she’d tried to forget everything at Pete’s, but it was when Finn Kennedy had glanced at her in ER and said, ‘You look like hell. Don’t let it affect your work,’ that she’d known she must have hit rock bottom.

She turned back to her lecture notes. Her personal life may have fallen apart, but the examiners didn’t care about that. They expected her to be an expert on all things surgical and anything less meant failing. Her fingers gripped the computer’s stylus overly hard. She would not fail. Being rejected by the man she loved was one thing. She
wouldn’t allow failing to qualify as a surgeon the first time round to add to her humiliation.

You’re doing what Tom does
.

What?

Burying yourself in work so you don’t have to deal with your feelings
.

But what was there to deal with? She’d told Tom she loved him. He’d said, ‘Goodbye.’

The loud rap of her door knocker made her jump. She wrapped her fleecy hoodie around her, slipped her feet into her sheepskin boots and walked up the hall, still surprised that the floor no longer dipped. The knocker sounded a second time, and impatience vibrated through the house. ‘Okay, just a minute.’

She picked up her keys from a bowl by the door—a habit she’d picked up at Tom’s. She shook the thought from her brain as she slid the key into the deadlock before pulling the door open. Her mouth gaped, her throat closed and her heart cramped.

‘Hello, Hayley.’

Tom’s deep voice spun around her as he stood on her front mat, his height and breadth filling the tiny porch. His hair was dishevelled and for the first time ever he wasn’t perfectly colour-coordinated. He wore his royal blue scarf with his brown jacket and black pants. More than the usual amount of black stubble covered his cheeks, giving him a rugged and raw look at odds with the urban-chic clothes. A tingle shot through her and she jumped on it, hating that her desire for him still burned despite how much he’d hurt her. It faded away, leaving her feeling raw and wounded.

She crossed her arms to protect herself. ‘That’s an interesting combination of clothes. I see as part of your insane drive to be totally independent of anyone you’ve
asked Gladys to leave as well?’ Hayley’s unexpected response to his greeting thundered into Tom, completely discombobulating him. On the drive over, as Jared had excitedly told him about his A in chemistry, Tom had silently been rehearsing everything he planned to say to her. All of it had been predicated on her saying, ‘Hello, Tom.’

He breathed in deeply, savouring the scent of the woman he loved, and tried a smile. ‘I’ve been a bit distracted this last week.’

‘How interesting for you.’

Her frigid words almost froze the Sydney winter sun. He steadied himself. ‘May I come in?’

‘Why?’

Her hurt and anger encased him like the metal bars on a cell.
Did you expect this to be easy?
‘I want to talk to you.’