The Pregnant Registrar. Carol Marinelli
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seemingly unplanned as this baby was, I had at least worked out the basics.’ Her eyes were still focused on her nails, the uncomfortable subject of money not really allowing for eye contact. ‘I was due long service leave, I’d worked at Bayside for years, I had more sick days and annual leave owing than anyone I’ve ever met, the pay office was always ringing and insisting I take a break…’
‘But the roster never accommodated,’ Corey filled in wisely, and Lydia nodded.
‘I could have taken close to a year off on full pay, bar shift allowance, but at the end of the day I couldn’t do it, couldn’t stay there another minute, with everyone knowing my business, everyone feeling sorry for me.’
‘Did Marcia leave?’
‘Why would she?’ Lydia responded, surprisingly without bitterness. ‘When I was more than ready to?
‘So now I’m having the baby Gavin insisted he wanted but evidently didn’t and facing three months off with no maternity leave pay. And as I bought Gavin out, I’ve now got a mortgage that would feed a third world country.’
‘You can make him pay,’ Corey ventured, but watching her stiffen he changed track. ‘Sorry, wrong choice of words. What I’m trying to say—’
‘I know,’ Lydia gulped. ‘And you’re right, I could make him pay: drag him through the children’s court for alimony and child support. But I’m not going to do it, Corey, because guess what? I neither want nor need his help. He signed himself out of this marriage when he slept with Marcia, and for a guy who’s so wrapped up in saving lives with his bloody drug trials, he couldn’t even raise a smile when he found out I was pregnant. So if you think I’m going to run to him with a begging bowl…’ She stopped, realising her anger, however merited, was misdirected. ‘I’d love to go to the ball, love to dig in my bag and sign a cheque, but the simple truth is I can’t.’ Lydia gave a dry smile ‘Have you seen the price of nappies?”
‘Wait till they’re weaned and hit the orange juice!’
She would have laughed but tears had started. Corey pushed a box of tissues over the desk and when she couldn’t quite reach it he came around, wrapping her in his arms as if she were a rugby ball, letting her cry as if it was the most natural thing in the world, not remotely embarrassed as he held her and wiped rivers of mascara from her cheeks.
And somewhere in mid-gulp, somewhere between another tissue and a glass of water, those arms that were holding her didn’t feel quite so comforting any more, the aftershave filling her nostrils not quite so reassuring…
Panicky and out of control would be a rather more apt description, and for the first time in months it had nothing to do with an errant husband and a baby that hadn’t been on the agenda.
For the first time in months it had everything nice to do with being a woman.
‘SO THIS is where you’ve been hiding?’
Jumping slightly as Corey plonked himself on the seat beside her, Lydia suddenly took great interest in the hospital canteen’s chocolate chip muffin.
‘I’m hardly in a position to hide.’ Lydia smiled. ‘I just caught sight of myself in the full-length windows so I’m cheering myself up with a bit of cake, which probably makes no sense at all…’ She was waffling now, badly. Corey Hughes had that effect on her for some strange reason.
Maybe strange wasn’t the right word, Lydia mused, pulling her muffin apart and searching for the rather scarce chocolate chips. In fact, the effect Corey had on her was probably considered entirely normal. After all, men and women definitely weren’t created equal and the major physiological reaction Corey triggered in her was a natural biological response—a phenomenon as old as time itself! Since their near-argument, since they’d glimpsed each other’s lives, opened up a touch, Lydia was blushing like a teenager at every turn, glancing at the nursing roster with way more than a passing interest and trying to fathom how a newly divorced, rather pregnant, born-again virgin could even be contemplating falling in lust all over again!
‘How come you’re not in the senior doctors’ lounge?’ Corey grinned. ‘I hear they serve muffins on a plate there, as opposed to wrapped in cling film.’
‘They do,’ Lydia quipped. ‘And I have to admit that entering the hallowed ground of the senior doctors’ lounge for the first time was pretty exciting—at least, for the first five minutes.’
‘Not the most scintillating company, then?’
‘Not for someone like me.’ When Corey gave a small, quizzical frown, Lydia elaborated. ‘I’m a confirmed people-watcher, and what better place to do it than at a hospital?’
‘I’m not with you.’
‘Well, one has such a head start here,’ Lydia explained. ‘After all, they’re either a member of staff, a patient or a visitor—it only takes a moment or two to work out which.’ When Corey’s expression remained perplexed, she explained further. ‘I like working people out. Look…’ She pointed to an elderly couple wandering along the corridor. ‘Dressed in their Sunday best, so they could be visitors, but see how she’s holding an envelope. Well, from that I’d guess that they’ve got an outpatients appointment.’
‘Who’s the patient?’ Corey asked, smiling as he played along.
‘He is,’ Lydia said firmly. ‘Don’t you just love how old people dress up to go to see the doctor? I think it’s just so adorable. See how she’s walking ahead, sort of hurrying him along, and she’s got a really brave strong expression on her face, whereas he looks as if at any moment he’ll turn tail and run. I expect he doesn’t want to hear the news if it’s bad.’
‘What news?’
‘About his prostate. They’ve just turned down to Four West and that’s where the urology outpatients clinic is being held.’
‘How do you know all this?’ Corey asked, bemused.
‘I read the signs.’
‘Do you, now?’
Whoops!
If ever Lydia had wished she could erase a comment, it was now. Unless she’d got things seriously wrong, unless she was very much mistaken, from the blush working its way up her cheeks, from the rapid pulse flickering in her neck and the sudden intimate smile Corey was imparting, written in neon and pulsing above them was a rather large sign, with cupid’s arrows and rather tasteless pink hearts to boot!
‘That muffin looks good.’ His voice seemed to be coming at her through a fog. ‘I might even go and get one for myself.’
‘You should.’ Lydia smiled, while trying to remember how her mouth worked. ‘But I’m afraid you’re going to have to take over the “watch”, I have to get going.’
‘I think I’ll give it a miss, thanks.’ His eyes held hers for the longest time. ‘I prefer to get the facts first, get to know people a bit and then make up my mind.’
It was totally in line with the conversation, every last word was appropriate, so why did Lydia feel her blush coming back for an encore? Why in the crowded hospital coffee-shop did it suddenly feel as if there were only the two of them?
‘I really ought to go.’ Her voice was a mere croak. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting Dr Reece in a few minutes.’
‘About Patrick?’
The invisible neon sign above them vanished in an invisible puff of smoke as they reverted to the far safer topic of work.
‘They didn’t seem too happy with his latest results; they want to go over a few things.’
‘You’ll