Their Marriage Miracle (7 page)

He said in a conciliatory tone, ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Eight o’clock start.’

She nodded. ‘That’s what this place is all about—looking out for as many children as possible.’

‘That and trying to prevent as many parents as possible having to deal with the agony and anguish you and I suffered when we lost Liam.’

When the front door had closed behind Tom she sat, staring blankly at the wall of photos.
That went well, Fiona. You really wound the man up. Why did you have to attack him? Now he’ll avoid you as much as possible. A fat lot of good that’ll do to your chances of righting the wrongs of the past.
And now you’re on your own for the rest of the evening. There have been too many long, lonely nights for you to welcome another one.

Fiona stepped back from the operating table the next day and placed her hands on the small of her back, arching backwards to relieve the dull ache that had set in an hour ago. She’d done four operations since daybreak. ‘What an amazing set-up you’ve got here. I haven’t worked in such a modern operating theatre for years, if ever.’

‘Not bad, is it?’ Tom looked around the room with pride, as though seeing it for the first time.

She liked that he could still get a buzz out of it. ‘Not bad? You don’t know you’re alive. The best bit is the lack of flies.’

‘Flies? You are joking!’ Kerry exclaimed as she stood up from her equipment, stretching her arms.

‘Unfortunately not.’ She shuddered. ‘I never got used to them.’

‘Who were you working for abroad?’ Kerry asked.

‘While I finished qualifying in London I kept hearing about Global Health. GH is dedicated to taking specialist healthcare to countries where many less fortunate people would otherwise never get the help they need. There were some glowing reports about the work their teams were doing, and those eventually made me feel working for GH would be right for me.’

She’d felt restless and unmotivated about her future. Initially Global Health had been an opportunity to move around without tying herself into a long-term contract.

She continued, ‘They sent me to Romania, Indonesia, and lastly to Pakistan.’

‘I admit to being a little surprised when I read that in your
CV.’ Tom’s wide-eyed stare made her want to chuckle. ‘You really did reinvent yourself.’

‘Just a tad.’ A wry smile twisted her mouth. Tom’s comments were nothing new. Many people said the same thing—especially people who’d known her when she’d lived in the lap of luxury in Auckland.

Fiona fully understood. When she’d left Tom she’d had no intention of spending her career in places where hot showers, soft beds and good food were not an option. They were comforts she’d taken for granted. No, she’d been destined to be the best plastic surgeon in private practice.

‘You worked in a plastic surgery team?’ Kerry asked.

‘No, each team consists of six to eight different specialists. Cardiology is one of the most common specialties catered for, but they can use just about any specialist.’ Fiona thought about the doctors in her team. ‘Paediatricians are always in demand. The children in poor countries have some horrendous illnesses, and usually they have no option but to tough it out. Or die.’ Which many of them did. She’d never got used to that. There were nights she’d lie awake feeling the mothers’ agony.

Above his mask, Tom’s eyes were thoughtful. ‘How did you deal with those deaths?’

‘By operating on as many other people as possible. It was never enough.’ He’d know what she meant by that. He’d also know none of those children she’d helped had brought Liam back to her.

‘What were the hospitals like that you worked in?’ Tom asked. ‘Pakistan has some good ones, but I don’t know much about the other countries you mentioned.’

‘You’re right, there are some great hospitals in most of the countries I went to, but for the Global Health teams hospitals weren’t always an option. Certainly we didn’t work in the big modern ones. Often we had the use of a hall or a school,
occasionally tents. Power could be erratic. I’ve had to finish suturing under torchlight but I don’t recommend it.’

There had been a lot of wonderful aspects about the job, but now standing here in this ultra-modern theatre, the last three years of her life seemed impossibly remote. As though she’d been working on Mars. And she didn’t know at the moment how she felt about going back to Global Health after her leave was up. The thought of not returning at all had slipped into her mind a couple of times. She didn’t really know what she wanted to do.

Was she subconsciously moving on from that nomadic lifestyle? Looking to settle in one place? Make a home for herself? Automatically she looked to Tom and found his piercing gaze still fixed on her. A huge question filled those eyes, one she couldn’t read. What did he want from her?

She’d forgotten they weren’t alone until Kerry interrupted her distracted thoughts with, ‘So, the equipment you used would be fairly basic?’

‘Absolutely—which is why, while I’m in New Zealand, I intend applying pressure to every hospital board in the country for any so-called obsolete equipment they have lying around forgotten in cupboards and storerooms.’

‘Are you going back to your job with this organisation?’ Tom asked, his expression remote, his shoulders tense.

‘My contract has expired but I can pick up a new one whenever I’m ready. GH has a policy of enforcing staff to take leave at the end of three years if they haven’t taken any sooner. It’s not a normal way of life, and they find their staff suffer burnout otherwise.’ Which didn’t give him a yes or a no. How could she tell him something she didn’t know yet? Incredibly, a strange sense of belonging had been slowly creeping over her ever since first setting eyes on Tom yesterday. Like a missing piece falling back into place.

She’d loved wandering from country to country, village
to village, but at this very minute, in this hospital, doubts were bombarding her. Seeing the haven Tom had created for himself within his hospital seemed to be cultivating a deep need within her for roots, a place to call her own.

Unfortunately a divorce would be the logical next step. Odd that neither of them had ever instigated one. Goosebumps lifted her skin. Did she want one now? Deep down, she didn’t think so. Did Tom want one?

Thankfully Kerry again interrupted her thoughts. ‘I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m going to lunch.’

Fiona decided to go later. ‘I’m going to pop up and see Sophie first. She should be wide awake by now.’

Tom tossed his latex gloves into a hazardous substance bin. ‘I’ll come with you.’

Fiona frowned. She’d have preferred to go alone, to take a break from Tom’s questioning scrutiny. ‘I’m sure Sophie and her father will be glad to see you.’

Tom shrugged. ‘Look, this is how I do things around here. These are my patients.’

‘Fair enough.’ She’d presumed he’d leave alone the specialists he brought in, only helping where needed. But this way he had first-hand knowledge of everything being done. She had to admit she liked that.

His hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged at her gently, until she jerked her head up to meet his level gaze. ‘I’m glad you understand.’

His fingers warmed her, sending unexpected shockwaves throughout her body, reminding her how his touch had so easily turned her on. But memories were dangerous territory. They could do untold damage to her heart, and create havoc with her hard-earned peace of mind.

‘Sure.’ She pulled her arm away, rubbing where he’d touched. ‘How long have we got before our next patient?’

Tom had assisted in Theatre all morning. He’d been very
professional and competent. No surprise there. Tom was a highly skilled doctor. But to Fiona his greatest asset had to be his interest in his patients and his willingness to listen to them. Odd how he could listen to a patient describing their ailments but he hadn’t been able to hear his own wife when she’d wanted to talk to him.

He said, ‘Nearly an hour’s break. Maybe we should grab a bite of lunch first, then go check up on your post-op patients.’

Her stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Last night’s dinner seemed an age ago, and she’d had nothing for breakfast this morning as she’d been too nervous about working with Tom. No wonder she was ravenous. ‘Hope someone killed a horse for lunch.’

‘Don’t mention eating horse meat around here. You’ll be run out of town, exceptional plastic surgeon or not.’ Tom smiled at her.

Exceptional, huh? Warmth flooded her, lightened her step. Another compliment that she’d treasure. ‘Okay, I’ll settle for a loaf of bread and a hunk of ham.’

‘I hope the kitchen staff can cope while you’re here. I haven’t forgotten your phenomenal appetite.’

‘For what?’ she blurted, and instantly coloured. Sex had come to her mind straight away.

‘Food.’ Tom scowled, but in his eyes she saw him register her meaning. His stride lengthened, and once again she had to trot to keep up.

‘Right, food,’ she muttered.
Not sex.
The one area of their relationship they’d never had trouble with. Her thumb flicked her fingers. Her mind had developed an unnerving habit of throwing her off balance. Think sandwich, not hot skin. Think ham, not slick tongues.

Don’t think at all.

After a quick lunch with Tom and Kerry, Fiona headed for Sophie’s room. With Tom beside her, of course.

‘Sophie’s awake and asking questions of any medical staff looking in on her,’ the girl’s nurse informed them.

‘Hey, young lady, how’re you doing?’ Fiona asked as she approached the bed.

Sophie was pale, and there were dark shadows under her apprehensive eyes, but she was awake enough to be aware of everything going on around her. ‘How did it go? Am I going to look better than I did before?’

‘You were a perfect patient, sleeping right through everything.’ Fiona sat down on the edge of the bed and winked. ‘Seriously, I’m very pleased with the operation. I did warn you that your scar will look worse before it heals. Be patient, if you can. You’re going to look fantastic. Remember, you’re a beautiful girl.’

Seated on the other side of the bed, Jacob Clark smiled wearily. ‘You’re asking a teenager to be patient? You can’t have any children of your own.’

She closed her eyes as her stomach curled around the permanent knot of pain. Just because Liam wasn’t here now it didn’t mean she wasn’t a mother. But it was easier to go along with Jacob’s assumption. ‘No, I haven’t.’

When she opened her eyes she found Tom’s gaze on her, deep sadness etched in the lines of his face. His eyes were dark, the caution that had mostly been there since she arrived replaced with sorrow. In the depths of his eyes she found a mirror image of her pain. She still wondered how he managed, surrounded by children every day. Surely that ate away at him sometimes?

Shame gripped her. By coming here she’d made everything that much harder for Tom to live with. He probably managed relatively well, but her arrival would have dragged up as much hurt for him as it had for her.

She hoped she’d survive the onslaught of emotions that had been battering her since her arrival.

Tom made an instant decision. He mightn’t be great shakes at talking about personal things, but he could certainly show Fiona what he’d achieved since they’d broken up, and she’d be able to see what it all meant to him. ‘Come on, we’ve got plenty of time before surgery. I’ll give you the grand tour of my hospital.’

‘I’d love that. Everything I’ve seen so far is amazing.’

Warmth unfurled in his belly at her simple but genuine words. ‘I’m afraid the rest of the building hasn’t been modernised like the operating theatre.’

Of course his earlier intention of keeping his distance from Fiona had gone down the drain. For some reason it wasn’t as easy to stick to as he’d believed. After her dig last night about him always working he’d thought he might have been cured of whatever was drawing him closer to her. He’d been wrong. All morning he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her as she operated. Watching her perform intricate surgery had been a revelation. No doubt about it. Fiona’s skill level was impressive. He’d enjoyed assisting her. His patients were lucky to have her.

And he was beginning to understand how she’d coped over the years since she’d left. She must have focused entirely on her surgical work, continuously expanding her knowledge and practical skills while pushing aside the hurt and anger at what had happened to them. Being around people who desperately needed her, being able to give them not just good care but superb care, would have been good for her soul.

She was speaking.

‘New paint and equipment go a long way towards instilling confidence in your patients. But really they come here for your expertise as a paediatrician.’

‘You’re right, of course.’ As Tom held a door open for Fiona her perfume scented the air around him, teasing him and causing him to stop to take a good long look at her. Her once bouncy step was now more measured, the jaunty angle of her head not so apparent, but the woman before him was still the Fi he remembered. Her enquiring eyes took in everything around her; her quick mind noted all the little things about her patients that were so important to a full and quick recovery.

‘Tom?’ Fiona had turned back, those blue eyes asking
why the delay?

‘Coming. Reception is through here.’ They were on the ground floor, where the operating theatre and staffrooms were. ‘Then in the west wing we have the consultation rooms. Except for mine. I like having a view, which is why my offices are on the next floor.’

‘Boss’s privilege.’ Fiona gazed around the reception area that had been positioned around the main entrance and a sweeping staircase. ‘Those are gorgeous.’ She pointed to the stained-glass front doors.

The second floor held the wards. ‘Two: one for the boys and one for the girls, with the nurses’ station between them.’

Tom tried to stifle a yawn and failed. Thankfully Fiona’s attention was taken up with looking around, so she didn’t notice.

A sleepless night hadn’t helped his unsettled mood. Staying up until after midnight working on the next six months of patient figures hadn’t tired him as much as he’d hoped.