How To Save a Marriage in a Million (11 page)

Her new life seemed to have left the past where it belonged. And good for her.

But—there was no other way of saying it—his heart still ached for her and he still wanted to be the one to be there for her, her significant other.

She stood at the top of the stairs, gazing around the shop, looking for him.

He waved and she manoeuvred her way through the scattered tables to where he sat.

‘Hi, sit down. I haven’t ordered yet. What would you like?’

‘A white tea, thanks.’

‘That’s all? Nothing to eat?’

‘No, thanks, just the tea.’

They were carrying on a conversation like wary strangers. Richard got up to get the drinks and came back with a packet of sandwiches and Joanna’s favourite chocolate bar. He smiled sheepishly, expecting to be reprimanded.

‘They had a special on chocolate and I thought
we deserved an indulgence as a reward for our hard work in the pool.’

It was worth the risk—she actually rewarded him for his humour with a smile.

‘I don’t know whether I deserve any. I spent the best part of an hour playing with Teresa Deleo’s youngest. Do you remember the Deleos?’

‘How could I forget? If you dared to cheer louder than—was his name Rick?’ Joanna nodded. ‘For a child that wasn’t his you’d risk life and limb.’

Joanna laughed and it was like the winter sun emerging from behind a dark cloud and lighting up the whole world with happiness. For a moment he was lost for words and just wanted to soak in the warmth of her.

‘That’s right. Do you remember Teresa was pregnant?’

‘Not really. Men don’t take much notice. That’s my excuse, anyway.’

‘You’re forgiven. She was only a couple of months, I think. Their fourth. Little Carlo, the baby I had the pleasure of borrowing to play with, well, he’s the result.’

Richard looked at Joanna for a moment, trying to gauge if there were any regrets, any resentment
that she didn’t have a child of her own. For a change, her face was open and easy to read. She had enjoyed her time with her friend’s child and unless she hid it well, she had no bad feelings.

‘You probably had a harder workout than me. You definitely deserve chocolate.’

She took the offered chocolate and carefully unwrapped it to expose a couple of triangles, which she snapped off, offering one to him.

‘No, thanks, I’ll start on the sandwiches.’

For some reason he expected she’d refuse the food and he interpreted her acceptance as a symbol of her acceptance of him. Not as a husband or potential lover but someone she was comfortable sitting with in a coffee shop, simply sharing a hot drink.

It was a start, if only a small step, and would make their work together easier.

He opened the sandwiches and offered the package to her but she shook her head, already sucking the chocolate, making it last as she always had.

They ate and drank in silence for a couple of minutes. Richard wanted to ask her so many questions, personal questions like what had finally brought her out of her depression? Had it been a
difficult decision to embark on nursing children with cancer? How did she cope on her own? Did she still sing?
Had she had any lovers?

But it was too soon and she would probably think it was none of his business, so instead they talked about work and a little about his trip overseas and nothing about what really mattered. There was a film of tension hanging between them that they were both trying their hardest to pretend didn’t exist.

When they finished it was close to nine-thirty, half an hour before the centre’s closing time, and the staff of the coffee shop made it clear they were keen for their remaining customers to leave so they could get on with the cleaning up.

‘Do you want a lift home?’ Richard offered. He didn’t know if she had a car.

‘No, thanks, I’ve brought my car.’

‘I’ll walk you out to the car park, then.’

She shrugged as if she didn’t have the energy to resist and he followed her down the stairs. They walked past the main pool in silence. The Seal Squad had disbanded and gone home and there were only a few stragglers in the play pool—certainly no sign of the Deleos, to Richard’s relief.

‘You don’t have to walk me to the car,’ Joanna said when they reached the foyer. ‘It’s just over there.’

He looked in the direction she was pointing and squinted at the few vehicles remaining in the car park.

‘The truck or the hatchback? My guess is the truck.’

She laughed. ‘Guess again.’

‘Well, if it’s the hatchback, it looks suspiciously like a limited model. Never mind the gentlemanly valour, my motive is to check out your wheels.’

She’d replaced the large family wagon she’d had when he’d left. The smaller car would be much more practical and the small but sporty model suited her perfectly. To his relief she didn’t protest when he began to walk with her towards her car and when they got there she turned and hesitated.

‘I’m glad I came tonight,’ she said in a voice that trembled slightly.

‘So am I. Maybe it’s something we can do again?’

‘Maybe.’

It was a
maybe
smile that hinted at possibilities,
combined with the old sparkle in her eyes that he remembered so well, that suggested…He couldn’t resist. He’d just have to find out.

He touched her lips with his fingertips—simply to give her the opportunity to refuse—before he kissed her.

But she didn’t refuse.

The taste of her lips was a tantalising rediscovery of a sweet and tender place he’d thought he’d never experience again. Her skin was soft as fine oriental silk, her breath warm and laced with the slight scent of chocolate and Earl Grey tea. She exuded sensuality from every pore and he was certain she knew what effect she was having on his self-control. He couldn’t stop.

He nibbled her lower lip and then teased her perfect teeth with his tongue until she opened up to him.

Her eyes were seductively closed and the corner of her left upper lid twitched slightly. She held her breath while he deepened his kiss and their bodies pressed so close, Richard could feel the fluttering of her heart and the faintest whole-body tremble that set his own muscles into a state of tension that could only be relieved in one way.
His hands moved slickly down from to her shoulders to her back and then to her softly rounded buttocks.

He wanted her so much but he felt her tense as if she’d read his mind. Her eyes snapped open to reveal a dark, agitated sea of uncertainty. She pulled away and took a sharp breath.

‘I can’t do this, Richard. I’m sorry but you shouldn’t even expect me to try. There’s too much at stake. You don’t know me any more. I don’t know you…’

She fumbled for her keys and opened her car door.

‘I…I shouldn’t have…’ Richard couldn’t find the words to express how he felt.

Already in the driver’s seat, Joanna looked close to tears and he couldn’t think of anything he could do or say to reassure her, to explain his impulsive actions.

‘Neither should I. Goodbye, Richard.’ Her voice was now as hard as steel, emotionless, painfully like the many times when she’d closed off the part of herself he’d so much wanted to reach, to comfort, to
heal
.

She was right. It had been a mistake.

‘Goodbye Jo,’ he whispered, but she already had the engine running and, with a squeal of rubber on bitumen, drove away into the night.

CHAPTER SIX

O
VER
the next week both Joanna and Richard made a very good job of ignoring what had happened in the car park of the local leisure centre on Monday night. No one would ever suspect there was anything more to their relationship than that between consultant and dedicated nurse. When Friday came, Richard bowed out of band practice and was glad he was on call the whole weekend. Fortunately he had enough to keep him busy to take his mind off thinking about his wife, who he understood was about to start working nights the following Wednesday after two days off. Though he’d miss her on the ward they wouldn’t have to keep up the pretence that their relationship was purely a professional one.

The fortnightly multi-disciplinary team meeting finished at about eleven and when Richard came into the ward, he didn’t expect to see Joanna. It was her day off. She was in the chemo suite with
Danny Sims and his father, Lynne, Tracey, Kerry, half a dozen kids who were well enough to move from their beds and a very tall young man Richard didn’t recognise—who seemed to be the centre of their adoring attention. Richard poked his head in the door to say hello before he began his official rounds. He was curious to know what was going on.

‘Hi, Danny.’ He acknowledged the boy who was having his second chemo session and looked remarkably relaxed and comfortable, considering the high doses of medication being delivered.

‘Hi, Doc Howell.’ He raised his hand in greeting and smiled as if it was his lucky day. ‘You’ll never guess who’s here.’

‘Someone pretty special?’ Richard said. The boy’s delight was written all over his face.

Danny chuckled. ‘You’re not wrong.’

The towering young visitor turned and grinned. He was wearing a polo shirt with the state basketball team logo on the pocket but Richard had no clue as to his identity. He didn’t follow the sport and the fact that he’d been away meant he’d lost touch with a lot of the local news.

‘Hi, I’m Bobby Masters.’ He paused as if waiting for signs of recognition.

Richard offered his hand and Bobby shook it vigorously. ‘I’m Dr Howell, Danny’s doctor.’

The excited chatter that had filled the room a few moments ago suddenly stilled as if waiting for Richard’s acknowledgement of the obvious celebrity status of Bobby Masters. Richard wondered if he should admit he had no idea who he was or alternatively make a polite excuse and leave. He was rescued from his dilemma by Joanna, who was smiling broadly. She reached for Danny’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

‘It’s not every day you get to meet the captain of the Western Slammers, let alone be presented with a team jersey signed by all the players in last year’s premiership side.’

The uninhibited rapture on Danny’s face was impossible to ignore and his joy was contagious. He held up the basketball uniform covered in signatures and a photograph of Bobby, also signed.

‘Wow, I’m impressed.’ Though he didn’t share the boy’s obvious love of the sport, Richard
was
genuinely impressed.

‘It’s a privilege to meet you Bobby. And you’ve
undoubtedly made young Danny’s day,’ Richard added, directing his comments to the basketball player.

‘I reckon he deserves a bit of special attention.’ Bobby then glanced at Joanna with a mix of admiration and youthful respect. ‘But it wouldn’t have happened without Joanna’s…er…Well, let’s say she can be extremely persuasive. She organised the whole thing.’

Joanna laughed. ‘Just doing my job.’

At that moment a photographer appeared in the doorway and Richard took the opportunity to make his excuses and leave.

‘I have to go now, Danny, but I’ll see you later to check how you’re going.’

‘Thanks, Dr Howell.’ It was Danny’s father who spoke. ‘Thanks for everything.’ He shifted his gaze to Joanna and looked on the verge of tears.

Richard nodded and slipped quietly out of the room.

Half an hour later he bumped into Joanna coming from the direction of the chemo suite, which was now quiet. The photo session had finished and the celebrity guest appeared to have left.

‘You knew this was happening?’ He directed his question to Joanna.

Danny’s father popped his head out of the parents’ room with a bottle of juice in his hand.

‘I heard a rumour she organised the whole thing,’ Danny’s father said, with a broad grin, rivalling his son’s recent rapt expression.

‘Really?’

Joanna seemed to have an endless supply of generosity and goodwill when it came to looking after her young patients, which extended beyond her usual working hours. She answered him with a wink, not appearing to want any recognition or praise.

For the rest of the week he missed having her around on the ward and it was obvious other staff did as well without actually saying so. He’d hear them talk about her and leave messages in the notes for the night staff that were obviously meant for Joanna.

If he was early enough to catch her before her shift finished he found himself confiding in her about the day-to-day events on the ward. She missed a lot of the bread-and-butter happenings that were taken for granted by the staff working
day shifts and seemed to relish information about things like how Rebecca’s dance classes were going or what Liam’s reaction was to having his whole year-two class come in for his birthday party.

There weren’t enough hours in the day, Richard mused, and the thought occurred to him that the time he valued the most was the time he spent with Joanna.

* * *

‘Come in, Richard. It’s great to see you again. I heard you were coming back to our fair city but I wasn’t sure when.’ Adam Segal extended his lightly tanned, freshly manicured hand in greeting.

Richard hadn’t been able to find any credible reason to procrastinate in initiating divorce proceedings and had made the appointment with his solicitor for late afternoon on his one half-day off for the week. It didn’t seem right, though, and more than once he’d considered cancelling the appointment and came close to missing it that afternoon.

He arrived just in time.

Though he considered himself an optimist, on
days like today he believed there was a lot of truth in Murphy’s Law. He’d predictably got caught up with work, having to deal with Liz and Phillip Bryant whose two-year-old daughter had finally been scheduled for surgery. She was to have the tumour, which was rapidly filling her abdominal cavity, removed the following day and he’d ordered a transfusion to boost her low red cells prior to her operation. Unfortunately she’d had a rare, unexpected reaction to the blood and had slipped into severe respiratory distress.

The crisis had been treated and her condition stabilised in the few short hours after her transfer to the intensive care unit but the drama had tipped the balance of Liz Bryant’s already fragile mental state into what could be loosely described as borderline hysteria. He’d managed to calm her down but it had taken up most of his afternoon and the last thing he felt like doing was starting the onerous process of filing for divorce.