Their Marriage Miracle (11 page)

BOOK: Their Marriage Miracle
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‘I got an apartment on Auckland’s Viaduct, overlooking the harbour. It should’ve been soothing and healing; instead I found everything to be cold and sterile.’ She shivered. ‘I’d lost the two most important people in the whole wide world. Almost overnight my reason for living had gone. Looking back, I wonder if I didn’t go a little bit crazy…I took my plane and flew the length and breadth of the country, trying to break every private pilot record standing. But it didn’t dull the pain one iota. So I took up aerobatics. I became careless of myself. Unfortunately, or thankfully, I’m a natural when it comes to flying. No matter how hard I pushed all the bound-aries I couldn’t get it wrong enough to write myself off.’

Once more Tom hooked her up in his arms and drew her close, cuddled her. ‘You idiot,’ he muttered, but understanding laced his voice.

‘Yep. A total fool. Then one day it all caught up with me.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Just like that. I fell apart. Completely. I cried for six months. I lost so much weight my father had me hospitalised and fed intravenously. But in the long run it worked out for the best.’

‘How’s that?’

‘One day the television in my hospital room was tuned to the Discovery channel, and I didn’t have the energy to get out of bed to find the remote and change the channel. One of the nurses used to deliberately leave the remote out of reach so I’d have to make an effort. Her ploy didn’t work very often. So this day I lay watching how the poverty-stricken women of the Sudan coped with raising their children in appalling conditions. I’d always known about third world countries. Who didn’t? But I’d never really taken it in other than on a superficial level. That day I did. My wealthy, self-indulgent lifestyle shamed me. That programme changed my life, and gave me a focus for getting out of hospital.’

‘So you went to London?’

‘I still hadn’t sorted out my feelings about what had happened to us, so I thought I needed to put as much space as possible between you and me. I couldn’t get much further away than England and still be able to finish my training. That’s where I heard about Global Health. The rest, as they say, is history. My history, anyway.’

‘It’s an impressive one.’

‘I know. It’s nothing like what you’d have expected of me. I surprised myself sometimes. There were days working for Global Health when the temperatures were in the forties, and exasperating equipment malfunctions were undermining our hard work, and I’d look around, wondering what I was doing. But if someone had come up to me with a ticket out, even at the worst times I’d never have taken it. I really believed in
what I was doing. It has to have been the most rewarding work I’ve ever done.’

Tom shook his head and smiled back. ‘It does seem a little odd to imagine you in such extreme conditions. I admire you. I’m sure you’re downplaying the hard times.’

‘Surprised?’ She raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t been known for her lack of forthrightness about herself. It just went to show that people sometimes could change. She’d had enough hard knocks to instigate a mammoth makeover.

The cold air sent a shiver through her body. Not so long ago they’d been kissing and her blood had been boiling. Tightening the quilt around her, she snuggled closer to Tom. Again she thought she really shouldn’t be here in Tom’s bedroom, lying on his bed with him. Their relationship wasn’t like that now. Her smile faded as sadness enveloped her.

Tom must have sensed her change of mood. Or he’d realised the same thing at the same time as she had. They’d always had an uncanny ability to read each other’s minds. Whatever the reason, he now sat up straighter and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, rested his forearms on his thighs.

‘How often have you been home since you left for London?’

His question startled her. ‘This is the first time.’

His eyes widened. ‘Really?’

‘I may have found a focus for my life but I’d still lost Liam and you. I didn’t feel I belonged here any more.’

‘What about your father?’

‘It was time to do what was right for me, not something designed to get Dad’s attention.’

‘That must have been interesting,’ Tom drawled. ‘How’d he take that?’

‘He refused to believe I’d waste my training on “the poor people of the world”. Dad’s words, not mine. When he couldn’t change my mind about who I worked for, he tried a
different tack. You wouldn’t believe the offers I received for partnerships.’

Tom frowned. ‘Wouldn’t I?’

‘Okay, maybe you would. But once the message clanged home that I wasn’t taking up any of those offers he turned off the money supply into my bank account. Figured that would have me racing back so fast I’d have passed a meteor on the way.’

‘You didn’t?’

She had to chuckle at the amusement in Tom’s voice. ‘I knew you’d have a problem believing that one.’

Until then her father had always given her a very substantial allowance. He was a wealthy man, and in his book wealthy men provided well for their families.

She added, ‘After that Dad changed. It’s as though he respects me for who I am now, not who he wanted me to be. I’m still a little cautious around him, but we’re getting on a lot better these days.’

‘Which is all you ever wanted from him in the first place.’

I like this Fiona, Tom thought as he absorbed yet another change in her. She was intriguing him with her new attitude to life.

These past days of working together, sharing his cottage, had given him the feeling of how it had used to be when he and Fi were married. Cosy, even fun. He liked coming home at the end of a busy day to find Fiona already there, pottering around in the kitchen. It wasn’t the meals she prepared, it was the company. In particular
her
company.

Careful,
he warned himself.
Remember you swore that you’d never, ever, let Fiona near your heart again. No matter what.

True, but she
is
different, his heart argued.

Which is good, but I once loved the old Fiona. Look what happened there. I’m too vulnerable to the depth of love we shared. It hurts too much when it goes wrong, and there are no guarantees it won’t happen again.

Coward. His heart had the last word.

Chapter Eight

‘D
ID
you ever forgive me for Liam’s death?’ Fiona whispered.

‘What?’ Tom’s jaw dropped as shock slammed into him. Fiona had blamed
herself
for Liam’s death? No way! ‘You can’t have blamed yourself for what happened. What could you have done to save him? It was cot death, for pity’s sake. No one can prevent that. It creeps in and steals life,’ Tom choked. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs.

‘I always blamed myself. Surely you knew that?’ Her eyes were huge in her pale face. ‘What if I hadn’t put him on his right side, knowing that he tended to roll over? Or what if I’d sat with him a little bit longer that night? He’d been colicky earlier in the evening. Had I missed him crying out in his sleep? Anything—everything—that could possibly have happened, even an uneven breath, I wish I’d been in Liam’s bedroom to know about it.’

‘If only I’d known you felt like that.’ He’d have tried to save her a whole heap of anguish. But he hadn’t known—because he hadn’t listened. He had let her down, big-time. Would she ever forgive
him
? Maybe if he explained his feelings of help-lessness back then, how he’d been trying to save her some grief.

Tom stood up and lifted Fiona into the bed and climbed in beside her, tugging the bedcovers over them. He lay down along
her back, hooked am arm over her waist and held her against him. He tried to warm her as she shook continuously.

‘Listen to me, Fi. Never did I blame you. No one can predict Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Nor can they save their baby from it. SIDS is widely written up by every expert under the sun. Not one of them purports that parents should sit with their babies every second of their lives. As hard as it is to accept, it happens.’

‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘But I had to find a reason, and the only one I could come up with was that I’d done something wrong. I’m a doctor. I should’ve noticed something.’

‘Put it like that and it’s worse for me. I’m a paediatrician. Children, babies, are my specialty. I spent months reading every article I could get my hands on, but I’d always known the vagaries of the syndrome.’ Which hadn’t helped one iota.

‘Did you ever? Blame yourself, I mean.’

‘Of course I did—for a damned long time. But eventually I saw reason. I’ve seen enough distraught parents of babies who’ve died of SIDS to know that they’re the first to blame themselves, and that they’re invariably wrong. They couldn’t have prevented it and neither could we. Doctors aren’t immune to these things.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad I came here this week, even if I’ve disturbed you. This is something we needed to share.’ Her voice sounded clogged with tears.

He held her tight for a moment, remembering how they’d used to lie like this to go to sleep every night. And how invariably Fiona would fall asleep and, as she relaxed, start poking him with her elbow, tapping him with her heels. Even in sleep she’d been restless. He nibbled his bottom lip. He’d loved those moments with her. He’d missed her so much when she’d gone away. Not just for the big things, but the little things that were special between couples.

Tom flipped onto his back, shuffled sideways, putting a
space between them. They were getting way too cosy. Lying in his bed, holding her in his arms was dangerous, no matter that they were fully clothed. The situation fogged his mind, blanked out reality. Which was what? That they were no longer a couple. That he still cared for her, but there could be no future for them together. Their marriage had failed first time round. What could possibly make it work if they tried again?

Did he want to try? Was he afraid to try? Yes. And yes.

Fiona rolled the other way and sat up to lean back against the pillows. Had she felt the same danger?

‘Did you really never wonder where I’d gone? Try to follow me?’

‘At first I kept thinking you’d be back, that I had to give you the space you so obviously wanted. But as time went on and you didn’t return I began to accept you didn’t love me any more.’ He’d waited endlessly, stubbornly refusing to go after her, wrongly thinking she had to make the first move.

‘I’m here now.’ She paused, then, ‘I did love you when I left. But I had to go. We weren’t working. I couldn’t deal with anything any more.’

She
had
loved him—as in the past. His lungs seemed to stop functioning; air clogged his chest. So there really was no hope of rekindling their marriage.
Well, idiot, haven’t you always known that? Admit it, all those years you waited for her to come back you knew deep down she didn’t love you any more. What happened to keeping Fi at arm’s length this week? See, you’re calling her Fi again. Talk about setting yourself up for the long drop.

Anyway, he should be relieved. He’d never wanted to get as deeply involved with a woman again as he had been with Fiona. He’d given his heart once. To do it twice and have it rejected would be foolish—especially if that second time was to the same woman.

Fiona was still talking, and he wanted to ignore her, but he heard her loud and clear.

‘I know I was spoilt, impetuous and fiery, and we had some tempestuous times, but we were great together, you and I. Great enough to survive what happened to Liam if only we’d known how. I really believe that. Talk to me, Tom.’

Sure thing. Spill his guts and then get on with his life.

Her fingers dug into her palms as she willed him to answer. But when he did, he thought he’d never seen anyone looking so desolate. But he had to stop this conversation in its tracks. It wasn’t doing either of them any good. He felt as though he was standing on the edge of a precipice, totally unsure where he was going.

‘It’s too late for us, Fiona. I have other responsibilities now.’ His heart ached. He’d missed her in his life so much. Damn it. He wanted to grab her up and hold her for ever. But he wouldn’t.

Loud knocking, followed by the front door being thrown back against the wall, had his head jerking round.

‘Tom, are you here? There’s been an accident down by the bridge and you’re needed.’ Stella’s voice echoed through the cottage as she advanced down the hall. He saw her pass the bedroom door, heard her heavy steps stop, backtrack to the bedroom.

‘Tom? I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed outside knocking, but it’s urgent.’

Tom crawled out from under the bedcovers, glad of the interruption. ‘What’s this about an accident?’

‘A car skidded on ice at the approach to the one-way bridge and slammed into the bank. Pierce says the snow-laden bank took some of the impact, but to him the injuries look serious. Robert’s already there, but he needs a hand.’

‘How many people are injured? And where are my keys?’ Tom searched through his pockets.

‘On the top of the fridge.’ Fiona brushed past Stella, still standing in the doorway. ‘I’ll get them. I’m coming with you.’

‘Two couples. They’re here for the golf tournament. According to Pierce, alcohol’s involved. And, worse, the road is treacherous between here and the highway to Christchurch. He doesn’t think you’ll get an ambulance through tonight.’

Tom followed Fiona into the kitchen, with Stella right on his heels. He caught the keys Fiona tossed to him and swiped up his jacket.

‘Pierce is the local cop, and Robert’s our GP,’ he explained to Fiona on their way to his vehicle. ‘We’ll be busy if the injuries are serious, and if the road’s as bad as Pierce says we’ll have to bring the victims back here.’

Fiona grimaced. ‘The injured people can be thankful you’ve got such a well-equipped theatre. Have we got kits to take to the scene?’

‘Liz is getting two ready,’ Stella answered.

‘Hop in, Fiona,’ Tom called to her. ‘Stella, can you get Theatre ready in case we have to perform surgery? Can you also phone Kerry and warn her we might need her?’

‘Of course. Have you got your cell phone so you can let us know what’s happening?’

‘I’ll get Pierce to phone through.’

A figure loomed up through the murky night air. ‘Here you go, Tom. Two bags full of everything I could think of.’

‘Thanks, Liz. Can you give Stella a hand, and stay on in case you’re needed later?’

As Liz answered in the affirmative Tom already had the engine revving, and Fiona slammed her door shut. She shivered, and said, ‘I wouldn’t have thought this town was big enough to have its own GP.’

‘Robert Greison is semi-retired. His wife died of cancer two years ago, leaving him with two teenaged boys. He decided
to bring them here, where he could practise part time and be with the lads at the weekends and school holidays. They go to boarding school in Christchurch during the week.’

Tom drove carefully on the treacherous road, and a few minutes later lights beckoned through the falling snow.

Fiona pointed. ‘Looks like that’s it.’

Parking where directed, Tom shoved his door open and saw Fiona flinch as the bitterly cold air snatched at her. But she braced herself and gingerly stepped down onto the slippery roadside. After grabbing the kitbags from the back seat, she followed him to the wrecked car, lying on its side in a ditch. A tow truck had backed up close to the front of the vehicle, its strong searchlights lighting up the area brighter than day. Two people—presumably men, though it was hard to tell with their thick jackets and woollen hats—were squatting down beside someone lying on a stretcher.

Screams rent the air spasmodically. The hairs rose on the back of Tom’s neck as he hurried towards the wreck, Fiona at his side. Someone needed them. He and Fiona were here to help. That, at least, felt good.

‘Hey, Tom!’ A deep male voice boomed out from beside the car and one of the figures rose from next to the inert body. ‘Over here.’

Tom took Fiona’s elbow and led her across to introduce her to Robert and Pierce. ‘Thought an extra medic wouldn’t go astray.’

Robert eyed Fiona up and down. ‘Even better. You’re slim and might be able to squeeze inside beside the guy jammed under the dashboard. He’s unconscious. I’ve managed to reach in and establish there’s a pulse. A lot of blood too, but I’m not sure where from. It’s tricky getting to him with the car tipped over like it is.’

‘Sure—anything you want. Do we have a name?’ Fiona asked.

‘Dave Fergusson, according to the women passengers.’

As Fiona snapped on latex gloves Tom felt a hitch around his heart. He didn’t want her putting herself in any danger by climbing into that scrunched vehicle. Jagged metal could tear clothing and skin in an instant. A sudden question came to him. ‘What about airbags?’

‘Deactivated,’ a fireman replied.

‘You don’t have to do this,’ he murmured to Fiona. ‘That mangled wreck will be full of hazards. And it doesn’t look terribly steady, lying on its side.’

‘I’ll be fine, and as Robert pointed out no one else will fit through that narrow gap that used to be a window.’

Tom knew she was right, but that only made him want to try harder to dissuade her from her mission—and yet he understood she’d agreed to go in because a man needed her doctoring skills. Fiona would never let him down. ‘You’d better watch out for pieces of metal. You’ll slice yourself if you’re not careful.’

She gave him a smile and nudged him. ‘Tom, just help me up and stop worrying. I don’t think I can squeeze in without a bit of a shove from behind.’

‘You haven’t grown any over the years, have you?’ He tried to lighten the panic in his heart and bent so she could stand on his thigh, his hands holding her around her waist until she was steady. Even as he let her go he wanted to snatch her back against him, keep her safe. So much for keeping her at arm’s length.

Placing her feet carefully around her patient, she bent down awkwardly. ‘Can someone get me a torch?’

A low, keening moan filled the air as Tom saw Fiona carefully feel the man’s head, talking softly, reassuringly, all the time.

‘Dave, I’m a doctor. You’ve been in an accident. Can you hear me?’

The man didn’t answer.

‘Here’s the torch. Tell me what you find as you go, then I’ll know what equipment to get you.’ Tom peered into the wreck, frustrated at having to wait outside.

The full horror of the scene was apparent in the yellow beam. Fiona’s patient stared sightlessly, his face streaked with blood. Blood coated everything. If it was all his, the man had lost too much.

Inside the vehicle, Fiona talked as she worked with her patient. ‘I’m starting with his ribs, hoping we’re not dealing with a flail chest. As far as I can tell the ribs have not been pushed into the chest cavity.’

‘One thing in his favour, then. How about his airways?’

‘Clear, and his breathing’s laboured but regular.’

‘Good.’ Would she hurry up and get out of there?

‘Can you pass me a sphygmomanometer?’

The blood pressure reading was important; a low one could indicate a continuing bleed somewhere.

‘Is it possible for you to reach his arm and hold it still?’ Fiona asked.

Tom pushed his shoulders through the narrow gap as far as he could until the squashed window frame prevented further movement. ‘I’ve got a cervical collar too. Damned if I know where Liz found it, but I’m grateful to her.’

He held the patient’s arm while Fiona inserted an intravenous line for much needed morphine and fluids. Then she took the blood pressure reading.

‘BP’s too low,’ she said.

Tom watched as Fiona gently probed her patient’s abdomen. Then her hands moved down his body until Tom heard a grunt of satisfaction. ‘Torn artery at the top of his leg.’

Stretching out, Tom helped apply the pressure needed to slow and gradually halt the bleeding.

Fiona said softly, ‘He’s also got a huge swelling above the
left eye, so possibly there are cranial injuries. We need to fit the neck collar, and that’s not going to be easy. He’s caught between the gearstick and the seat, and his body’s twisted at an angle so his lower back’s stuck under the front of the car.’

As they struggled with the collar one of the tow truck drivers came up beside Tom. ‘We’re ready to lift the engine block back so you can get your man out of there. Just give us the nod.’

Tom raised an eyebrow at Fiona. ‘What do you think? Is he ready?’

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