LITMIR.BIZ

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‘Thanks’ in reply, stunned he could know that about her in such a short space of time. Or at all. Would any of her past boyfriends have had such an insight into her character?

      ‘I can fit Charlie in on Monday week. I operate at St Catherine’s that day so it’s close for you.’

      ‘Monday’s good. St Catherine’s good.’ Some proper sentences would also be good, she muttered mentally. Come on, get it together. The guy doesn’t know you’re a house-bound loony, don’t let the secret out now! She kick-started her brain into gear. ‘Great. And you’re right, I do like to get all the facts, then I can deal with it, plan, work out what I’m going to do.’ So far so good. ‘Things are much less stressful when the information is on the table and you’re not left second-guessing. Not that I was scared about you operating…’ She stumbled to an embarrassed silence.

      Nick didn’t miss a beat, simply laughing as if she’d been joking. ‘I’m glad to hear it, although most people are terrified, some not so secretly, at the thought of their child having surgery. I’ll get the forms posted to you but he’ll need to be admitted at seven a.m. Can you manage that?’

      It would mean juggling Lucy’s schedule but that wasn’t Nick’s problem. ‘Yes, I’ll sort something out.’

      ‘What about your work, can you take time off?’

      ‘I’m on a leave of absence from my job to concentrate on the children.’

      There was a brief silence at the other end. Had she scared him off with too much information? ‘Maybe once I get Charlie sorted for you, that will help things settle down.’ She got the feeling it wasn’t what he wanted to say, or ask, but that’s all it was. A feeling. And she didn’t know him well enough to ask.

      ‘I hope so. It might be a start at least.’

      ‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do,’ he offered.

      ‘Thanks, Nick, but I doubt you have time to worry about how your patients are going to organise their lives.’ She settled back against the deep cushions of the couch, conscious she was behaving as if she was readying herself for a nice long chat with a good friend.

      ‘Not usually. But most of my private patients have a partner or, to be honest, a nanny to help pick up the slack, and in the public hospitals there’s Family and Community Services help if necessary. It’s no difficulty to schedule things to suit you, you just need to say.’

      ‘I appreciate that, but we’ll be fine, this time at least. We’ll see you on the sixteenth, and thank you.’ She hesitated, unused to the feeling of having help offered, of accepting it, then added, ‘If I get stuck and need an appointment changed, I’ll remember your invitation. It’s very kind of you.’

      He said goodbye and she ended the call, wondering what he’d wanted to say or ask when she’d mentioned her work leave. She shrugged, knowing she’d never know and it probably didn’t matter. It was just one more sign of how insular she’d become, that she could sit analysing the things an almost-stranger hadn’t said during a routine phone call.

      On another note, a more positive note, the phone call had helped her more than Nick would know. To be asked how she was coping, whether something would suit her, made all the difference. She suspected she wasn’t coping all that well given her growing preoccupation with her nephew’s specialist, a man who’d rung only to schedule surgery. A man unlikely to have any interest in an overwhelmed, grieving aunt. But if she allowed herself to ignore those obvious objections, he’d still managed to make her feel she was cared about. He’d managed to make her feel less alone at precisely the time she’d needed that reassurance, however fleeting it might be.

      The contrast between that phone call and the earlier one with Philip was marked. Philip, who should have asked after the children, out of politeness if not out of a sense of concern, hadn’t, yet a virtual stranger had.

      Returning to Canberra to live with the children was one of the options she was thinking over. After her phone call with her ex, that option was looking bleaker. What was there for her, for any of them, if her breakup with Philip was going to be permanent?

      Or perhaps, she reflected, recalling how her tongue had frozen and her belly had sprung to life at the sight of Nick today, what had there ever been there for her? Even with Philip?

      CHAPTER THREE

      NICK retied his black bow-tie, struggling to get it sitting properly but unable to give it the concentration it needed. His work schedule and goals were up in lights in his head, distracting him from the immediate task at hand. He had, just yesterday, signed the final partnership papers. He was now a full partner in the medical clinic. He was finally scaling the mountain of goals he’d been working towards. Buying into the practice meant a significant amount of debt but it was debt necessary to building a business, unlike the mound of debt he’d only finally cleared these last months. That had been a noose around his neck, nothing but a dead weight.

      Now he’d shrugged it off and had embarked on this new, productive phase of his life. His work was building up, referrals were coming in apace. He felt more confident than he’d felt in years.

      He pulled on the ends of his tie one final time, shrugging at his reflection in the mirror. His tie looked like it was supposed to. Close enough, anyway. It was just a tie. He ran his fingers through his hair. He’d long since given up on trying to get it to sit neatly, his cowlick making that impossible. He was only aiming for semi-presentable. Ditto for the bow-tie.

      Grabbing his dinner jacket as he headed out the door, he knew he was looking forward to the evening. He’d stopped the downward spiral that had been his life for the past few years. He was a successful medical specialist with a growing practice. Not a man with a failed marriage and a huge, useless debt. His single-minded pursuit of stability was at last paying off.

      He slung his jacket in the back of his car and allowed himself a wry grin as he slid behind the wheel of his old Holden wagon, proof positive that he wasn’t completely out of the hole his ex-wife had dug for him. It was a sure-fire bet no one else would be heading for the Opera House tonight in anything as old as this but his finances didn’t stretch to splurging on a new vehicle. This one did the job.

      He was used to making do.

      Sometimes it seemed that was all he’d done for years.

      Make do. Make do while he worked and strove singlemindedly to fulfil the goals he’d been set on since late adolescence. Stability. Security. Respectability.

      And, after a string of major setbacks, it was finally all in his sights.

      So tonight, to celebrate, he would mingle and dance and enjoy the kudos that came with being a medical specialist, the newest partner in a successful practice.

      Rosie opened the door to find Philip himself on the front step, immaculate as always. As usual he looked made for his suit, probably because his suit had been made for him and he wore it as if he deserved it.

      He leant forward and Rosie hesitated. Cheek? Lips? Handshake? What was the etiquette the first time you saw your ex after you’d separated? Philip clearly thought lips were in order but she found herself offering her cheek for a kiss. The first time she’d consciously gone against what Philip wanted? Correction. The second. Taking up the guardianship of the twins and leaving Canberra had definitely not been what Philip had wanted.

      But was that really because he cared for Rosie enough to spend his life with her? She knew it wasn’t enough for her; if it had been she wouldn’t have called it off because she was moving. For the same reasons, she knew it was the same for him. If he’d cared so much about her, he would’ve tried to make a long-distance relationship work. After all, she was still contemplating a return to Canberra. So she knew his chagrin was more because she had disturbed the convenient, established order of their lives together than because he was heart-broken.

      ‘Hi. Did you have a good trip?’

      He

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