Change of Life (24 page)

“I’m so sorry, Tom, poor Rosie – what a shock for her - and you of course. And, as for Adam – I’m sure he’ll be back. You should’ve told me all this sooner. I could’ve covered for you – arranged some time off.”

“Yes, I know. It was just - I guess
- it
was hard to admit it was happening and that I only had myself to blame – driving my wife and son away.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Tom. I’m sure whatever you’ve
done,
you’ve done in good faith. You wanted what was best for the family.”

“Thanks for saying so. But I think I need to change the way I do things as regards my family, if I’m to have any hope of getting them back.”

“So, what sort of things are you thinking about changing?”

“Well, the way I work has to be the first thing – at least in the short term. I need to spend some time at home, being a proper father and – if I get the chance - a proper husband. I need to cut my hours, Bruce.”

Bruce looked momentarily surprised, but he recovered well. “I see. That’s brave in our game. I’m retiring next year, as you know, and I had thought you’d be after my job – chief of cardio – it’s what you’ve been working towards, isn’t it?”

“It surely wouldn’t put me out of the running - if I have to reduce my hours for a time.”

“You know what it’s like, Tom. Part timers don’t get the top jobs – competition at this level is fierce – you have to be seen to put in the hours, publish the papers etc, etc.”

“If losing the top job is the price for getting my wife and son back, then it’s a price I’m willing to pay.” I hadn’t realised I thought that until I voiced it.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that – and I must say, I admire you – maybe if I hadn’t been so ambitious, I’d still be married.”

“I didn’t mean – I wasn’t getting at you,” I said.

“No, I know you weren’t – and anyway we were as bad as each other - Amanda and I were far more married to our jobs than to each other. She didn’t want children and I did. I wanted her to give up work and be a mother, and there was no way she was doing that. I never even considered giving up my job in order to be a father. So it all ended in tears – mine mostly.”

Bruce had never told me anything this personal in the twenty years I had worked with him. I knew he was divorced of course and that Amanda now had the Chair of forensic medicine at Edinburgh University. I knew they were still friends and that Bruce was very proud of her achievements, but I didn’t know why their marriage had broken up. I didn’t know what to say.

But Bruce didn’t seem to expect me to say anything. He went on, “I’m surprised, Tom, but I think you’re doing the right thing. So how do you see this working? How will you go about reducing your hours?”

“Anna’s done her final exams - for membership of the Royal College – and I think we can assume she’s passed them. So, she’ll be eligible for a consultancy post. I wondered if you could make a case for Anna and I to job share, at least until a full time post comes up for Anna. And I hoped you’d supervise her to begin with.”

“You have thought this through, haven’t you? It’s a good idea and I’ll support it with the powers that be. Have you spoken to Anna?”

“Not exactly - but earlier on today she was talking about her future as a consultant, and she did mention the idea of a job share as being something she’d be up for. I didn’t mention my plans. I wanted to run it by you first.”

“Okay, talk to her. You could also consider a sabbatical – God knows you deserve one. And you’d also be eligible for some compassionate leave right now, you know.”

“Yes – I know. Thanks, Bruce. I’ll speak to Anna. I did wonder about a sabbatical. I’ll give it more thought now I have your approval.”

“I hope you didn’t doubt my approval. The hospital will go on without us you know. It’s Rosie and the children that are most important thing –you have something precious there. Don’t make the mistakes that I have. This place is no substitute for family life.” Bruce sounded quite emotional now. “Do what you have to do to get Rosie and Adam back.”

Once more I was thrown by Bruce talking in such personal terms, and once again I didn’t know what to say.

“Right that’s enough of all that,” said Bruce. “Pull yourself together, man. I take it you’re at least going to do some work while you
are
here. Go on - you’ve patients to see.” Bruce laughed, back to his normal self, as I stood up to go.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

As I returned to my own office I felt relieved, lighter. It was good to be doing something positive at last.

The afternoon passed as quickly as the morning. I saw two patients who were hoping to be discharged, and was able to give them both the good news that they could indeed go home. I also checked on a couple of others in the High Dependency Unit, both of whom, I was pleased to see, were making good progress. And then, as always, there was paper work to attend to.

Later, as I prepared to leave for home, I remembered I still had dinner to sort out. What on earth was I going to cook? “Damn,” I said to myself, “what was I thinking of?”

“Sorry, what was that?” said Sheena, from the doorway.

“Oh – did I say that out loud?” I said, embarrassed. “I was talking to myself, sorry.”

“Tom – tell me to mind my own business, if you want to - but are you all right?”

“Yes – well that is no – not really.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I wasn’t sure I could face telling the whole sorry story yet again, but it also crossed my mind that I probably owed her an explanation, as much as I’d owed one to Bruce. She was always discreet and didn’t generally indulge in the gossip that travelled faster than any virus round the hospital.

She saw my hesitation. “I’ll put the kettle on,” she said.

Over a cup of tea I told Sheena it all. I also asked her to tell my theatre team the edited highlights. She listened, without interrupting, except to make sympathetic noises here and there.

“Tom, I really hope you sort out things with Adam and that Rosie gets better. Try not to blame yourself. Adam and Rosie are their own people – they’ve made decisions about what they need to do and where they need to be at the moment. But if there’s anything I can do to help you - I hope you know you only have to ask.”

I realised for the first time, as Sheena spoke, how fond I was of her and how much I relied on her steady, calm manner. Here was someone else in my life that I’d been taking for granted.

“Thanks, Sheena – for everything I mean – all that you do. Heart surgery I can do, but all the paperwork and
all the
organisation – I’d never keep on top of it all without you. I know I don’t say it often enough, but I do appreciate it.”

“Don’t be daft – it’s what I’m paid for,” she said. The normally unflappable Sheena was blushing.

“It’s not daft. You do more than you’re paid for and you know it.”

“Don’t start being nice to me now – I know where I stand with the distracted grunts that Bruce and you usually use by way of communication. I won’t be able to cope if you start treating me as a person!”

I smiled at her. “That just proves how badly we treat you! Actually, I need to ask you to help me out in a way that, I don’t think, either Bruce or I have asked before.”

“Oh,” she said cautiously, “what’s that?”

“I volunteered to cook dinner for the kids tonight and I haven’t a clue what to make. I can boil an egg, but that’s about it as far as my culinary skills go. They think I’m not up to the task and I don’t want to prove them right. Have you got any suggestions?”

Sheena laughed, rather too gleefully I thought, then got a grip of
herself
. “Right, I admire your bravery. Is a takeaway out of the question?”

“Oh yes – I have to be seen to actually cook – that’s what I promised.”

A little while later I was on my way to the supermarket, to get the ingredients for dinner that Sheena had written down for me. She’d also written out, what she described as, idiot proof instructions for the assembly of said ingredients. I was going to make coq au vin.

Chapter Twenty Four

I arrived home around five thirty. It was a beautiful June evening. Sam was watching Neighbours in the living room. She said that Max was taking Toby out for a walk and had actually done some piano practice when he got home from school. We had a brief chat about how our days had been. Sam reminded me that Max’s end of year school concert was on during the following week and that he’d brought home a note about tickets. She reminded me too, that Jenny’s school production of
Grease
was also on during the following week, as was the prizegiving. I assured her I’d organise my attendance at all three events.

Before going to the kitchen, I phoned my mother to confirm the arrangements for the next day, when she and Kirsty would be taking the children to see Rosie. She said that Dan was with her and that he sent his love. I also told her a bit about my plans as far as my work was concerned. I know she was quite shocked at this, but she did her best to cover it up. Mind you, I think she was equally shocked when I told her that I had to go and cook the dinner. She laughed, a bit too enthusiastically for my liking, and wished me the best of luck, and said she’d pray for her grandchildren. I thanked her for her vote of confidence and she laughed some more.

Then I decided to phone Adam. I wanted to ask him if he would reconsider going to see Rosie the next day. But his phone went to voicemail. I wondered if he was working or if his caller ID showed it was me phoning. On a mad impulse I left him a message asking him to join us for dinner, though I didn’t really expect he would.

Then I couldn’t put it off any longer. I went to the kitchen and got down to cooking dinner. I washed and chopped mushrooms, shallots and peppers. The garlic baffled me – how on earth were you supposed to tackle that, and did you peel it or not. Sheena’s recipe said 3 cloves of garlic. How much was a clove? If it was only one section, then that didn’t seem very much. In the end I chopped the whole thing up and put it all in. I opened a bottle of red wine for the sauce and poured myself a glass as well. As I did so, I heard the front door open and close. Max and Toby came into the kitchen followed by Jenny and Robbie.

“Hi, Dad,” said Max as he went to fill Toby’s water bowl.

“Hi, son, hi, Jen and Robbie,” I said. Robbie hung back behind Jenny. He looked as awkward as I felt.

“Come in, Robbie, come in,” I said.

“Hello, Mr McAllister,” he said, as he came over from the doorway. “Something smells nice, but I think it might need a bit of a stir.” He nodded in the direction of the cooker.

“Oh, God, yes – thanks.” I grabbed the lid off the pan and stirred hard. The chicken breasts were just beginning to stick and I prayed I’d caught them in time.

“It does smell nice, actually,” Jenny said. “What are you making, Dad?” she asked, as she peered into the pan.

“No need to sound quite so amazed,” I said. “It’s coq au vin.”

“It’s what?” said Max.

“Chicken in a red wine sauce – it has a French name – coq means chicken and au
vin
means in wine,” said Jenny. “Stop giggling, Max – it’s not grown up.”

Max looked at me and we both sniggered. “Coq!” said Max, hugely enjoying the double entendre.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” said Jenny. “It’s not big and it’s not clever. Grow up, both of you! I’m sorry, Robbie. My father and my brother are very immature.”

“I’m only eleven – I’m allowed to be immature!” said Max, giggling hysterically.

I was now laughing at him laughing. “And I’m only fifty one,” I managed to gasp, before collapsing into more laughter. I noticed Robbie was grinning.

“I give up,” said Jenny, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to get changed.” She left, shaking her head.