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‘I talked to the principal of the kindergarten after I left the hospital. She’s happy to enrol Jennifer for three days a week, starting next Monday.’ A curious mixture of anticipation and dread coursed through Meg as she set Geoffrey’s dinner in front of him then took her seat across from him.
‘I’ll let Matron know in the morning that you’ll be joining us. You can work in a supernumerary role until the next roster comes out.’ He picked up his cutlery and cut into a potato.
That’s it? No discussion tonight? No . . .
‘How was your day?’
He didn’t look up. ‘The same as usual. Busy.’ He focused on his food, chewing with a fierce concentration so unlike his usual self when they were together.
There was nothing usual about today for Meg. Something was definitely off with Geoffrey.
‘I’m excited about going back to work, but I feel guilty about putting Jennifer into kindy. I must say though, I was impressed by the programme they offer.’
‘Matron knows the principal. She holds her in high regard.’
They ate in silence. Geoffrey set his cutlery neatly on his plate and wiped his mouth on his serviette. He pushed his chair back.
Words blurted from Meg’s mouth. ‘Do you think I’ll have missed out on much in the time since I left the RAAF?’
‘Since we were married?’
‘Er, yes. The two events followed hard on one another.’
Geoffrey took his time, realigning his perfectly aligned knife and fork before he answered. ‘There will be a few things new to you. Why don’t you look through the last six- or seven-months’ worth of my medical journals? That should help direct your attention to areas you need to pick up on.’
He’d pushed his plate away. He’d eaten barely half of his meal. ‘I’m going to bed. I’ll probably be gone early in the morning. I have a full day of surgery scheduled. Good night, Margaret.’ He paused beside her chair. A moment later, his footsteps receded behind her back.
He didn’t kiss me goodnight.
##
There was a distance between them that Meg had never expected. Each night he left her to sit alone, or with Gerry when she was home. His excuse was reviewing case notes or catching up on reading about some new surgical technique, and if it wasn’t either of those, he was simply tired, and going to bed early. Days past and they hadn’t made love once. He hadn’t even touched her hand, but she’d felt his gaze on her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
It can’t go on like this. We can’t.
When dinner was finished and Gerry had left to go to a movie with a group of nursing friends, Meg stopped him in the hallway with a hand on his arm. ‘I know it’s late, but can we talk about us?’
‘I was going to do some work.’ He sighed but let her take his hand and lead him to the veranda. They sat in the swing seat, rocking gently in the dark.
Where did she start? A week ago, everything had been simple. They’d talked about anything and everything and enjoyed each other’s company. They’d been happy, for goodness’ sake, so what had changed? She’d gone over and over their conversation in his office that day at the hospital, but nothing she’d said seemed big enough to have caused the gulf between them.
‘You asked me what had changed when I applied to the hospital.’
‘And you said you missed working. I told you that first time we had dinner at the Queen’s Hotel in Townsville that I’d never stop you working, and I haven’t.’
‘That’s true. You’re an amazing man, Geoffrey, and I’m—’
‘Don’t say it.’
‘I was only going to say that I’m grateful for your support.’
Despite the night surrounding them, she saw his head bow. She’d just told him she was grateful, as she had that other day. The day when he closed her out. When everything changed.
‘Would you—prefer me not to go back to work, or just not with you? Is that the problem?’
‘I’ll be grateful for your experience on my team.’
There it was again. Grateful.
‘It seems to me you’re not happy about the arrangement, and I don’t want you to be unhappy.’
‘I’m not—unhappy about you working. It’s simple, Margaret. If you want to go back to nursing, take the job the hospital is offering. I’ve no problem with you working. I never have.’ He cracked a half smile and so did she, because that’s what they always did. Half smiles and skirting around personal topics.
Was that it? They could talk about medicine and politics and any number of broad topics, but they never really talked about feelings.
Not until that day.
They sat side by side as Meg gathered her thoughts. She was grateful they were on Vera’s swinging seat. Back when she was pregnant and later, after Jennifer’s birth, she and Vera had sat and talked through life and disposed of most problems while swinging gently, a soft breeze off the river clearing their minds. She needed that clarity tonight.
‘Right from the start after you proposed to me, you were fine with me nursing. But since we’ve been married, something has changed.’ At last, a thought occurred to her, one so big and terrifying, she could hardly breathe. ‘Do you think I’m past nursing? Have I been out of it too long?’
Geoffrey reached for her hand. He wasn’t a demonstrative man and the action surprised her. His hand was warm and smooth, and grounded her before fear overcame her. His touch, infrequent as it had been, had always done that.
‘First up, you’re not past doing anything. Maybe you’ll be a little slower at first, although I doubt it, but I’ll start you on smaller procedures. You’ll soon be back in the swing of things. As to the rest of it . . .’ He enfolded her hand in both of his. There was real pleasure in his touch, and hope in the small physical connection.
The longer he held her hand, the more she believed she would find a way to break through the barrier he’d thrown up. She liked the feeling that his strength flowed through their clasped hands and into her. Odd to think of her husband in such terms, but the image felt right.
Their eyes met in the lambent light from the street, his, intense. She waited while he gathered words before dispensing them like precious gems—only the best and as few as did the job. ‘Do you remember much of the time after Jennifer was gone?’
Meg shook her head. ‘It’s a blur, but what’s that got to do with—’
‘What do you remember?’
Meg frowned. ‘We got married. Gerry was a witness, and Roger. I was sad. But what has that to do with us now?’
‘That’s why, Margaret. You changed. You were barely functioning with ordinary day-to-day tasks. Your child had disappeared into the adoption system, and when you got her back, you barely let her out of your sight. And that’s understandable, but how would you have handled the pressure of working in a hospital when you were worrying about her?’
It slammed into Meg then. The knowledge Geoffrey had protected her from. ‘I was grieving for Jennifer as though she’d died.’
He nodded. ‘After you got her back, you watched her like a hawk. It took such a long time before you stopped doing even simple things automatically and started to relax. Started living. A long time till you came back.’
Back? The word jumped out at her and snagged her conscience.
‘Came back as in I was finally wholly present? Was I so very distracted?’
‘Yes, but it was understandable after what you’d been through.’
‘I’m so sorry, Geoffrey. I know you cared about helping me get my daughter back, but why ever did you marry me?’
He was quiet for a long time. At last, he took a deep breath, the sort of breath one took before doing something scary. Something that could change everything without knowing if it would be for the better.
‘I loved you, Margaret. I knew you weren’t in love with me, but I thought I could give you what you needed and maybe one day, you’d see me. Fall in love with me. I wanted to give you everything, but for a time, I feared I couldn’t give you the one thing you most wanted – your daughter.’
‘Oh, Geoffrey.’ Emotion rose like a wave building out at sea and rushing towards the shore. ‘I do love you.’
He raised the hand he held and kissed it. ‘I’ve waited a long time to hear you say so.’
‘Have I never told you? I’m sorry. I don’t know when I started loving you. I’m not even sure I recognised it for a long time.’
‘But you’re sure now?’
She nodded and reached up to cup his cheek. ‘Gerry suspected I was falling for you back in the Currajong days. Perhaps she was right, and I was afraid to acknowledge the truth.’
She’d been blessed to know the love of two wonderful men, but why had it taken her so long to truly see what Geoffrey had given her? How dark her life must have been that she hadn’t understood what he’d done for her. ‘I am truly sorry I never spoke those words.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Meg’s throat clogged with years of emotion and grief she hadn’t acknowledged. But Geoffrey had. Geoffrey—her rock and her strength. He’d saved the shell of a woman she imagined she’d been and slowly, painstakingly, helped her build a new life.
‘I love you.’ Slipping off the seat she sat on his lap, wound her arms around his neck and kissed him. Intentionally. Deliberately. With love.
He wrapped both arms round her, enfolding her in his love, a love she’d only now recognised. He’d saved her, loved her, and now . . .
‘I love you, Geoffrey Ransom. You are my life.’