The Surgeon's Gift. Carol Marinelli
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didn’t, no one ever does. You go off on maternity leave and everyone just assumes that you’ve had a wonderfully healthy baby and you’re going to break into a spiel about sleepless nights and nappy rash.’
‘But why didn’t you just say something? I mean, Hailey was banging on about babysitters.’ He winced as he recalled the conversation. ‘It must have been agony for you.’
‘It was.’ Rachael let out a low laugh but they both knew it was void of any humour. ‘Look, Hugh, how are you feeling now?’
‘Me?’ He stared at her, bemused.
‘How do you feel now that I’ve told you?’
‘Awful,’ he admitted. Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze. ‘And really sad for you.’
‘Imagine how Hailey would feel. Imagine how she’d have felt if I’d turned around and told her the truth. She only meant well, she was just being nice.’
‘But you can’t go around not telling people just so you don’t hurt them,’ Hugh argued. ‘So that you don’t make them feel awful. What about your pain, what about how you feel?’
‘It was a one-off.’ Rachael gave a shrug. His hand was still wrapped around hers and she fixed her eyes on them, not embarrassed at the contact, if anything, slightly comforted. ‘Hopefully the next time a patient recognises me, if ever, I’ll be a bit more …’ she searched for the right word. ‘A bit more … . Oh, I don’t know, not so prone to bursting into hysterical tears perhaps.’
‘Feel free.’ Hugh’s free hand delved into his suit, pulling out a heavy navy silk handkerchief, which he pressed into her hand. She stared at it for a moment or two, and then shook her head.
‘I’ll be all right.’
‘I’m sure you will, but there’s nothing wrong in crying.’
Again she shook her head. ‘Accepting,’ she gave a sniff. ‘That’s the word I meant. Next time I have to tell a patient, I’ll be more accepting of the fact.’ His eyes were on her his hand still holding hers as she prattled on. ‘There are five stages of grief apparently, and acceptance is the final one.’
‘Where are you now?’ His voice was gentle, more an echo of her own thoughts really.
‘Well, I’m past the denial stage, so I guess I’ve moved on to anger,’ Rachael said with a trembling voice. ‘Maybe the textbooks do get it right sometimes, because angry just about sums me up at the moment. I’m angry for me and I’m angry for Amy, for all she’s missed out on and all the pain I’ve been through. It’s nearly been a year now.’ She nibbled at her lower lip and fiddled with the handkerchief in her hand as he still held her. ‘That’s a long time to be angry.’ Brown eyes, devoid of tears yet steeped in pain, finally looked up, and she found herself staring back into his infinitely understanding ones. ‘I think I must be stuck at number two. Maybe I’m a slow learner.’
‘Maybe you’ve got a lot to be angry about?’
A tiny nod was all she could manage, coupled with a loud blow into the handkerchief, the silk cool against her face. It smelt of Hugh, smelt of expensive aftershave and extravagance, and it would have been so easy to bury her face in it, to lay her head on that expensively suited shoulder and give way to the tears that were dangerously close. So very easy, but so very scary. ‘I’d better go.’ Standing, she retrieved her bag from the floor.
‘You’ll be all right—driving home, I mean?’
‘I’ll be fine.’ The brittle smile was back. She held out the handkerchief then, realising she had used it, hastily stuffed it into the pocket of her jacket. ‘I’ll wash and return it.’
Hugh gave a tiny shrug. ‘There’s no need. I’ll survive without it.’
All of a sudden Rachael felt embarrassed, embarrassed and exposed. No doubt Hugh thought she was used to this type of thing, used to baring her soul.
But she wasn’t.
To date this was as close as she’d come. As close as she had been to breaking down and exposing the depths of her grief.
‘I’m so very sorry.’
Rachael gave a small shrug. ‘Like I said, you weren’t to know.’
He pulled her back as she went to leave, his hand finding hers again, and it felt so right she let it stay there for a moment as he spoke. ‘I wasn’t talking about this afternoon. I’m sorry for your loss, Rachael, I’m sorry to hear about Amy.’
Making her way down the long polished corridor, she walked faster, rummaging in her bag for her keys, unclipping her name badge—anything other than looking up and catching sight of the signs for the maternity unit.
Funny, hearing Hugh say Amy’s name hadn’t hurt. It had actually helped, helped make her baby more real, meant that she had existed after all.
Meant that there was a reason for the agony in her soul.
CHAPTER THREE
FOR the entire morning Hailey had been the model patient. Not once did her fingers stray to the buzzer and no matter how many times Rachael popped her head in or tried to strike up a conversation she was met with a polite smile and an assurance that everything was fine. Rachael had been allocated Purple Bay for the last couple of days but was now back in the orange bay. As she gently cleaned the fine wound around Hailey’s breasts, the fact that her patient wouldn’t meet her eyes had to be addressed.
‘Hugh told you, didn’t he?’
‘Told me what?’
‘Hailey?’ Rachael’s voice was soft but firm. ‘I’ve had enough people unable to meet my eyes to last a lifetime. Dr Connell shouldn’t have said anything.’ There was an edge to Rachael’s voice, which she fought quickly to control. Poor Hailey was already feeling bad enough without thinking she had caused unrest amongst the staff.
‘I’m sure he didn’t intend to, I just mentioned how nice it was to have the same nurse looking after me again, how hard it must be coming back to work and leaving your …’ Her voice stilled for a moment. ‘I guess Dr Connell knows me well enough to realise that I can’t go five minutes without delving into someone’s life.’
‘You like a gossip, then?’ They were chatting more easily now as Rachael concentrated on doing the dressing.
‘Don’t we all? Anyway, when I spoke about you the next morning when Dr Connell did his ward round, he just said that I should go easy on you, that’s all. He didn’t break any confidences. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together and now I feel just awful.’
‘Well, there’s no need,’ Rachael said firmly, carefully strapping the dressing back in place. ‘And you weren’t being nosy or prying. It was a perfectly normal question to ask—in fact, it was nice that you remembered me. I’m just sorry you’ve been made to feel awkward when you were only trying to be friendly.’
‘You should have just said, Rachael. You can’t worry about upsetting other people all the time—you’re the one who’s living with it. It does get easier, you know.’ Hailey’s tone changed subtly, the slightly dizzy voice softened with a wistful note, and for the first time that morning the two women’s eyes met, no longer a nurse and patient but two women who’d shared the same pain, the only difference being that one was further down the long lonely path. ‘You do what it takes to get you through.’ Looking down at the dressing that Rachael had just finished, a smile crept over Hailey face as she admired her new breasts. ‘Maybe not quite as extreme as this but, hey, what the hell. They’re just fabulous, aren’t they? I can’t wait to get them home!’
They were laughing so hard it took a moment to register that Hugh had joined them behind the curtains.
‘Sorry to break up the party, ladies. I just wanted to check everything was all right