‘Oh, no!’ Wendy stared at the due date for the account from the power company with dismay. The mail had been accumulating in a pile on top of the breadbin for nearly three weeks now. Filed as being of little importance compared to everything else she was having to deal with. The housework had gone the same way and Wendy had dragged herself out of bed this morning trying to summon the motivation to use her two days off to sort out her home and, hopefully, her life.
The phone account needed paying as well. And her credit card. The disturbing amount the credit company requested made Wendy blink. Remembering how she had spent so much more than usual made her wish she’d stayed in bed after all. It had been an extravagant hour in an outdoor adventure shop, snatched one day when the USAR class sessions had finished early. The age of Wendy’s climbing gear had been of concern to Ross. He had encouraged her to replace it and he had been there to help her try on the upmarket harness with the ergonomic gear loops and doubleback buckle for adjusting the leg loops. She could almost feel the touch of his fingers now—the way she had when he’d tested it for size in the shop. She could also remember all too vividly the look that had passed between them as they’d struggled to disguise both their desire and the mirth engendered by the expression on the sales assistant’s face as he’d observed them from the shop’s counter.
Wendy could feel the heat of that desire now, and the pain of Ross pushing her away surfaced again, undiminished even by an agonising night of trying to deal with it. Tears prickled yet again but this time Wendy scrubbed them away with an impatient hand. She didn’t cry. And she never moped. Feeling like this was alien enough to frighten her. OK, so she’d never been in love with someone before—not like this—but surely it couldn’t be enough to undermine a lifetime of standing up for herself and taking positive action over anything that stood in her way? This was simply another challenge to meet and Wendy had never let herself be defeated.
The phone ringing seemed like an exclamation to congratulate her on a new resolution. Wendy snatched up the receiver.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Wendy.’
‘Oh…’ For some reason, the call was a surprise. ‘Hi, Kelly.’
There was laughter on the line, now. ‘You sound disappointed. Were you expecting Ross to ring?’
‘Not really,’ Wendy said honestly. The hope that it might have been him was undeniable, however. ‘Sorry, Kelly. It’s great to hear from you. How are you?’
‘Fine. Busy working. It all seems very routine these days. Our USAR time seems like ages ago.’
‘I know,’ Wendy agreed. ‘But it’s only been three weeks. It’s a bit scary, the way you can just fall back into old routines.’
‘Some of us don’t. I was just talking to Jessica and she’s broken out of hers in a big way.’
‘How’s Ricky doing at that special school?’
‘Really well, but that’s not the most exciting thing that’s going on. Seems like Jess is a lot more than a house guest as far as Joe’s concerned now.’
‘Really?’ Wendy was taken aback by the pang of envy that struck her. Was Jessica experiencing the same euphoria of falling in love that she had found with Ross? Kelly was right, it did seem like ages ago. Another lifetime almost.
‘I knew she’d fallen for Joe,’ Kelly confided. ‘She told me as much when I went down to her mum’s funeral with her. And I have to say I encouraged her to go for it.’
‘And she did?’
‘Apparently so.’ Kelly’s tone had a grin in it. ‘The best bit is that Joe seems to feel the same way.’
‘That always helps.’ Wendy managed to keep her tone light. If only Ross could feel the same way she did now. The way he had so quickly when they had fallen in love. Wendy tried to dismiss the envy she still felt. She was glad for Jessica, of course she was. Her friend deserved the joy of finding love. After all, she had coped with far more in her life than Wendy ever had. ‘I’m so pleased,’ she added with genuine warmth. ‘I hope it works out for them.’
‘I have a feeling it will.’ Kelly chuckled. ‘Maybe the applications for the next USAR training course should have something in the fine print about its advantages as a matchmaking service. You and Ross. Now Joe and Jess.’
‘Your turn next, then.’ Wendy summoned a sound that could pass for amusement. ‘Who did you fancy in the class? That fire officer, Roger, seemed keen. And I have to confess to having the odd moment of wondering about you and Fletch.’
‘Did you?’ Kelly sounded astonished. There was a tiny silence and then Kelly laughed again. ‘I’m happy the way I am, thanks. Now, listen. Joe’s offered to babysit Ricky tonight so Jess can go out. We’re planning to go to a bistro for a drink or two by way of celebration. That’s why I’m ringing, to see if you could come with us. Are you working tonight?’
‘Could Ross do without a visit from you just this once, do you think?’
‘I reckon.’ Wendy wondered what Kelly would say if she knew that Ross had effectively issued instructions to bar her from visiting him. She wouldn’t want to put a dampener on spending time with her friends, however. It was just what she needed to brighten her own mood and she certainly wasn’t about to spoil any of Jessica’s happiness. ‘I’d love to come,’ she told Kelly. ‘Just tell me where and when.’
Wendy hung up the phone feeling far more like her usual self. She moved purposefully towards her desk and opened a drawer to find her chequebook. She would pay for the new harness, the state-of-the-art climbing rope and the set of new straight gate carabiners. What’s more, she wouldn’t let them gather dust out in the garage. If she wasn’t welcome to visit Ross in the next two days she would do what she’d always done with her time off. When her chores at home were finished, she’d treat herself to a session at the indoor wall in the gym. She’d go for a decent run up the Cashmere hills and tonight she’d go out and have a good time with her female friends. And tomorrow she’d see if she could round up a mate or two from the climbing club who wanted a session at Castle Rock, tackling the most difficult rockface they could find.
It was unfortunate that removing the chequebook from the drawer revealed the sealed, addressed envelopes that had been ready to post the day the USAR course had ended. One gave notice for her current position at Coronation Hospital. Another was a letter of enquiry about positions that might be upcoming at the hospital on the West Coast and the third had been a month’s notice to her landlord. The envelopes had represented such confidence in the plans she and Ross had made for their immediate future and now all they meant was a waste of paper and evaporated dreams. Even if she and Ross managed to sort their way through this obstacle in their relationship, those plans would need major readjustment.
Wendy shoved the envelopes into the bag of rubbish, ready to be put out for collection that morning. No threat of tears this time. She wasn’t admitting defeat here, merely acknowledging that a change of direction was needed. A different approach. It was like facing the most difficult climb she had ever done, really. The thought of what she stood to lose—her life—was terrifying, but the goal made the attempt worthwhile, and choosing the right equipment and path was crucial to success.
She was actually smiling as she tied the top of the rubbish bag with a firm knot. Wendy liked that analogy. She could do this…and succeed. After all, she had overcome her weight problem as an adolescent, hadn’t she? She had also shown people she wasn’t too small to play netball at a nationally competitive level and she knew, with all modesty, that she was regarded as the gutsiest and one of the most popular members of the various sporting clubs she had joined over the years. Everybody seemed to love her ‘go for it’ attitude and determination to succeed.
Ross wasn’t going to discover just how determined she was to succeed this time, however. Instinct warned Wendy that he could be just as stubborn as she was if he thought he needed to be. Her approach needed subtlety, and giving him a day or two to think that he had been successful in convincing her it was all over was not a bad place to start her campaign. With a bit of luck he might realise what a gap she was going to leave in his life. He might start missing her with the same painful sense of loss that she herself was experiencing, and when he’d had enough time to think about it he might be ready to talk to her. Really talk and not simply erect a verbal brick wall.
Wendy picked up a pen and the chequebook. She would post these accounts on her run up to the hills. What’s more, she wasn’t going to waste any emotional energy feeling annoyed at the ten per cent penalty she now had to add to the power bill. She had far more important matters to put that energy towards.
Ross had to clamp down on the annoyance he was feeling. He pressed the bell beside his pillow for the second time and a nurse hurried into Room 2 thirty seconds later.
‘Sorry, Ross. It’s bedlam out there. Mrs Skinner got stuck in the toilet and was too upset to cope with the lock. There’s been two arrivals in ICU and I got held up waiting to help with a log roll. I hope it wasn’t anything urgent.’
‘I’m itchy,’ Ross complained. ‘It’s driving me nuts.’
‘Oh.’ The nurse eased her hand under his back. ‘I thought I’d found all those chips of plaster last time you were turned.’
‘It’s further in,’ Ross directed. ‘Up a bit. Go left. Ah…That’s better.’ He looked at the tiny shred of dried plaster bandage in her hand. ‘Amazing something that small can make you feel so uncomfortable.’
‘I’ll have another check and make sure there’s no more bits lurking. We’ll give you a good scrub when you go on your side again. That should fix it.’
‘You’d think they would have found a more high-tech method of taking measurements for a back brace.’ Ross could feel the hand wriggling carefully down the length of his spine.
‘Maybe you can keep the plaster shell of your torso and take it home for a souvenir.’
‘I’ll pass on that, thanks.’ Ross let his breath out in a weary sigh.
‘You sound tired.’ His nurse straightened and her gaze rested on the thick metal spring with handles on each end which was lying abandoned on the side of the bed. ‘Have you been overdoing those upper-body strengthening exercises?’
‘No.’ Ross managed a half-hearted smile. ‘I’ll be in trouble when Sally turns up. She gave me a lecture on that subject yesterday. If I don’t regain my upper body tone, how can I expect to cope with being independent in a wheelchair?’
‘It is important,’ the nurse said gently. ‘Being able to transfer independently from a bed to chair or chair to toilet makes a huge difference.’ She brushed the small pieces of debris she had collected into her hand. ‘You must be getting pretty sick of having to depend on other people to deal with the kind of things we all prefer to keep private.’
‘Yeah.’ The incessant itching was gone but Ross still felt irritated. ‘My indwelling catheter’s due to come out in the next couple of days. I guess I’ll have the fun of learning to use collection devices then.’
‘You may not need them. When are you due to get your bladder function checked by cystometry again?’
‘Tomorrow morning. Seems like my spinal shock is wearing off so they should get some accurate pressure readings. The verdict so far is flaccid.’
‘That’s easier to manage. You can learn to empty the bladder by compression or using abdominal muscles. You might not have any incontinence hassles.’
‘True.’ Ross picked up his exercise equipment. Dealing with bladder management was not something he wanted to spend too much time thinking about. A lot of techniques involved the use of condoms, and how depressing would that be, knowing that it was probably the only use he’d ever have for such items any more? He stretched the spring, pulling his arms wide, and could feel the protest of muscles that had weakened with alarming rapidity over the last three weeks.
‘Anything else you need while I’m here?’ The nurse was looking undecided, as though she was wondering whether Ross needed a chance to discuss the more personal aspects of his rehabilitation. ‘Only I’ve got a dressing change to do for a pressure sore. I could come back later.’
Ross shook his head with a wry smile. ‘My social calendar’s pretty full for the rest of the day. Sally’s due to come and give me a workout and then it’ll be time for dinner. Then it’s visiting hours.’
Not that he was particularly looking forward to visiting hours. Wendy had stayed away yesterday and there was no reason for her to come in today either, when she wasn’t working. His level of niggling annoyance increased and Ross put more effort into pulling the heavy spring apart. He held it for as long as his protesting muscles could manage and then added a few more seconds. He hadn’t expected Wendy to come in, had he? He’d told her it was over. He’d even left a message with Debbie to tell her that he didn’t want to see her. Maybe it hadn’t been so difficult for Wendy to accept after all. Maybe she had even been relieved.
The burning in his shoulders and upper arms was real pain now. Ross slowly allowed the spring to shrink in length. He gave himself a few seconds’ rest and then pulled again. Even harder.
His young physiotherapist arrived, and was impressed. ‘Don’t break that spring,’ she joked. ‘We’re short of them. We’ll have to get you into the gym in the next day or two and then you’ll be able to thrash some decent gear.’
The sweat was beading on his face as Ross released the tension in the spring yet again. He felt ridiculously short of breath. ‘I’m too unfit…for that.’
‘You’ll get it back,’ Sally promised. ‘You were so fit when you arrived it shouldn’t take too long at all.’
Ross was still trying to slow his breathing. A twinge beneath his ribs was painful enough to make him blink. Surely he hadn’t diverted so much of his frustration and grief into the exercise that he pulled a muscle? The pain wouldn’t go away. He hadn’t stopped sweating either. Ross felt the chill of premonition.
‘Can you check my feet…for any peripheral…oedema?’ The fact that he’d needed more than one breath to finish his sentence made Sally frown.
‘Are you OK, Ross?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Ross said tersely. He could feel his heart rate increasing and his breathing wasn’t getting any easier. ‘I think I might…have a PE.’
‘Pulmonary embolism?’ Sally’s eyes widened in shock. ‘But you’ve been on anticoagulation since you were admitted and you’re wearing anti-embolism stockings and…’ She had uncovered his feet as she’d been speaking and her hands were now on his feet and ankles. ‘And there’s no sign of any swelling.’ Her gaze lifted briefly to meet Ross’s. ‘I’ll get a doctor,’ she said calmly.
Ross watched the speed with which Sally left the room and his level of alarm rose. Textbook gems carefully learned for long-ago examinations flashed into his head.
‘Newly injured tetraplegic or paraplegic patients are at high risk of developing thromboembolic complications.’
‘Peak incidence is in the third week following injury.’
Ross swallowed with difficulty and tried not to listen to his rapid rate of respiration. He was nearing the end of his third week.
‘Thromboembolic complications are the commonest cause of death in spinal patients who survive the period immediately following their injury.’
The pain was still there, a sharp stab every time he took an inward breath. Patrick arrived with a registrar, John Bradley. Debbie was following and she whisked the curtains closed around Ross.
‘What’s happening?’ Patrick looked concerned.
Ross couldn’t answer because of the coughing that had just started. Then he had to concentrate hard on his breathing. John had his hand on Ross’s wrist.
‘He’s tachycardic,’ the registrar reported. ‘Rate of 120.’ He was also counting the rate at which his patient’s chest was heaving. ‘And he’s tachypnoeic. Respiration rate of 36.’
Patrick had his stethoscope in position. ‘I can hear a right-sided crackle.’ His mention of the abnormal lung sound was calm. ‘Any pleuritic pain?’
Ross nodded.
‘Peripheral oedema?’
‘No.’ Ross coughed again and this time he had to reach for a tissue. The streak of blood he wiped from his lips was all the evidence the medical staff needed of the blood clot that had reached his lungs.
‘Let’s get him back to ICU,’ Patrick directed. ‘We’ll get a chest X-ray, arterial blood gas and ECG.’ He turned to John. ‘Get him on some high-flow oxygen and start a heparin infusion,’ he ordered. ‘Five thousand units IV and then a continuous infusion of 800 units an hour.’
‘What about streptokinase?’ Ross queried. ‘Or TPA?’
‘Let’s just see how much of a problem we’re dealing with first.’ Patrick smiled at Ross. ‘There’s one good thing about having a medic as a patient. We’re not likely to forget anything, are we?’
Ross concurred with the general opinion formed an hour or so later that standard treatment with heparin would probably be all that was needed.
‘You’ve got a pleural effusion on X-ray but no wedge-shaped infarcts that might suggest a massive PE.’ Patrick held the chest X-ray so that Ross could see it, then handed him the 12-lead ECG.
‘There’s signs of right heart strain but they’re not enough to worry me,’ the consultant said. ‘Subtle ST-T wave changes here and a mild right axis deviation.’
‘They should be temporary.’ Ross was breathing much more easily now. He didn’t feel like he needed the oxygen mask. Being tilted on his bed to a more upright position was probably all that was necessary now.
‘Coughing stopped?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Pleuritic pain?’
‘Better than it was.’
‘Good.’ Patrick nodded. ‘Your arterial blood gas wasn’t so hot so we’ll repeat that in a few hours and we’ll keep you in ICU until you’re not hypoxic and the ECG changes have resolved.’
‘OK.’ Ross was happy enough to have the extra monitoring even if the embolism was not large enough to be life-threatening.
‘Don’t let this seem like too much of a setback, will you, Ross? You’re over the worst of it now.’ His gaze was sympathetic. ‘Would you like me to ring Wendy and let her know what’s happened?’
Oh, Lord. Ross would like that so much. He would like to see the concern for himself that would show so clearly in Wendy’s face. He wanted to see the relief that he was all right and the love that would make those emotions so intense. He wanted to feel Wendy’s touch and cling to the protection her love could offer him from what life was continuing to throw in his direction. And he couldn’t allow himself to do that.
He wouldn’t allow himself to do that.
‘No,’ was all he said to Patrick. He shook his head decisively, more to convince himself than the hospital’s medical director. ‘I don’t want to worry her and I’ll see her soon enough. She’ll be working in here tomorrow.’
Patrick raised an eloquent eyebrow but clearly decided against debating his patient’s motivation. ‘Tomorrow’s soon enough, I guess. Try and get a good rest.’
ICU was not the best place to rest. Four of the six beds were occupied and the staff were kept busy. Ross dozed intermittently between turns and having his vital signs measured and recorded, but he felt very tired still the next morning. Tired and weakened by the fatigue and the scare of this feared complication. His spirits rose a little at 7 a.m. with the staff change. Perhaps Wendy would be assigned as his nurse for the day. His resolve to free her from their relationship seemed to have weakened overnight, along with his general physical condition. Maybe there was some way they could keep things together somehow. Maybe, this time, it was too much of a challenge to face alone.
It was Peter who arrived to attend to the start of the day’s routine. ‘Couldn’t stay away from us, eh?’ He grinned as he deposited a bowl of warm water on the bedside locker. ‘At least you’re only back for a brief visit. Sounds like we might be able to shunt you back to the ward by tomorrow.’ He pulled the curtains closed, cutting off the view of other staff at work, then ripped open a disposable razor packet. ‘You ready to make yourself look respectable for the day, mate?’
‘Sure.’ Ross accepted a soapy facecloth and rubbed his chin. Then he held the razor in one hand and a mirror in the other as he shaved as best he could above the edges of the collar. ‘So, you drew the short straw for patients today, then?’
‘I’ve got two,’ Peter told him. ‘You’re expected to present no problems so you’d better stick to the game plan. The young lad I’ve got in bed two is much more of a challenge. I think we’ll have him on a ventilator by the end of the day. Sharon’s got a woman with a hangman’s fracture and Felicity’s got an incomplete C6,7 dislocation fracture in traction. There’s a new admission coming down from the north island later on today as well. Car accident on the way to work.’
Ross had listened to the account of staff duties with growing dismay. ‘So what’s Wendy doing?’
‘She’s on afternoon duty.’ Peter winked. ‘Maybe she’ll make my day a bit cruisier by coming in to keep an eye on you in her time off.’
‘She doesn’t know I’m in here.’ Ross dropped the razor and reached for the rinsed facecloth. ‘I didn’t want to give her a fright.’
Peter whistled softly. ‘You’re a brave man, Ross Turnball. If I know Wendy, she’s not going to be very happy that she wasn’t kept informed.’
Peter did know his colleague and Wendy wasn’t very happy at all. Coming on duty at 3 p.m., she marched into the unit and stood near the foot of Ross’s bed. It was clear that the glint in her blue eyes wasn’t due to any pleasure in seeing him.
‘Why didn’t you tell me, Ross?’
‘I didn’t want to worry you.’ The excuse sounded completely lame now. He had never seen Wendy look this angry. Or hurt. Ross realised how selfish he had actually been. He hadn’t avoided Wendy getting a scare at all. He had just compounded her reaction by adding a rejection that was probably obvious to a lot of people. ‘Sorry.’
‘I don’t think you are,’ Wendy muttered angrily. ‘It’s just a rather more public way of telling me it’s over, isn’t it?’ She moved forward just enough to read the figures showing on the bedside monitors. If she had moved any closer, Ross could have reached out and touched her hand. And held it, just long enough to impart and maybe receive some comfort. ‘You’re doing fine anyway,’ Wendy said more calmly. ‘You should be out of here by the morning as long as your next blood gas is within the normal range.’
‘We knew it wasn’t too serious pretty fast,’ Ross told her. ‘It really wasn’t a big enough deal to spoil your time off.’
The look he received let Ross know that Wendy was aware of precisely how potentially serious the incident had been, and how frightening it would have been for someone who had the same knowledge base. He also had a glimpse of the level of pain he had caused by shutting her out from any involvement.
‘I was out all day anyway.’ Wendy sounded determinedly offhand. ‘I went climbing with some friends. That new harness is great.’
‘Where did you go?’ The reminder that Wendy had been out doing something Ross was never likely to enjoy doing again was a slap in the face he probably deserved.
‘Castle Rock. It’s the best place we’ve got locally.’
And it had been the scene of their first date. Wendy had been able to go back there and have a good time. Without him.
‘Cool.’
‘Yeah.’ Wendy wasn’t looking at Ross. ‘Here comes Jenny. She’s your nurse for this shift.’
Had Wendy chosen not to have Ross as a patient? He had no right to feel disappointed, let alone this hurt. This was his own doing. He had attempted to push Wendy away and she was letting him succeed.
The hurt wore off as the afternoon wore on into evening. Every glimpse of Wendy moving around the unit advertised the energy and spirit this woman possessed and Ross knew he had made the right decision. Trying to hold Wendy in a relationship with him, no matter how badly she thought she wanted it, would be like caging a beautiful creature from the wild.
Wendy had stalked away from the interchange with Ross, trying to hold onto the anger she had used to spark what now seemed like cruel jibes about her going climbing and having avoided being assigned Ross as a patient. She had been amazed how quickly the anger had kicked in after she’d arrived at the staff changeover meeting this morning, completely ignorant of the drama surrounding Ross. At least the anger was easier to function with than the devastating realisation that Ross could have been facing death and had chosen not to have her by his side. The barrier she had been so confidently planning to undermine was looking like Fort Knox right now, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to try and break through. It was just as well she had a challenging patient who would allow little time for any personal reflections.
Peter’s patient in bed two had become her responsibility for the afternoon shift and the prediction that the young man’s condition would deteriorate had been accurate. Shortly after Wendy’s duty started, her patient’s spinal oedema progressed to the point at which his breathing no longer gave him a satisfactory level of oxygenation. Endotracheal intubation was performed and artificial ventilation initiated. With an unstable cardiac rhythm that frequently dropped to a bradycardia, both Wendy and the registrar, John Bradley, were kept focussed for hours.
The drug regime was adjusted repeatedly and the patient’s low blood pressure was problematic. John did a peritoneal lavage in the early hours of the evening which confirmed that abdominal trauma was causing hypovolaemic shock, so the level of fluid replacement also needed adjustment. Suction had to be performed with extreme care, as well as additional drug therapy to prevent the possibility of triggering a cardiac arrest. Between the major dramas Wendy had enough smaller concerns to keep her attention firmly away from Ross. Even getting the humidity of the inspired air to the correct level to prevent secretions becoming viscid and difficult to clear seemed to be a problem, and John took much longer than usual to get an arterial blood gas sample needed to check oxygen levels.
Ross watched the medical team working and saw John shake his head while trying to obtain arterial access for the blood sample. He was glad he would only need one more stab like that himself. The artery ran deep so it was painful even with local anaesthetic. His blood now contained a high level of heparin, the anticoagulant used to treat clots, so it was difficult to stop the bleeding after the procedure. It had taken twenty minutes of pressure for the blood vessel to stop leaking last time so when Ross saw Jenny glance at her watch, having stood for fifteen minutes pressing on his final puncture site, he offered to continue the pressure himself.
‘You’re late going off duty, anyway. It’s nearly 11 p.m. and you’ve missed the staff meeting for changeover.’
‘That’s OK. You’re an easy patient so I didn’t need to be there. It’s Wendy who’s going to be really late tonight and she’s back on mornings tomorrow.’
Ross slid his fingers under Jenny’s and pressed hard on his arm. ‘I can do this,’ he reassured her. ‘I’m a doctor, remember?’
‘OK.’ Jenny gave up being reluctant. ‘Don’t let go for at least another ten minutes, though. And get someone to check on it before you go to sleep.’
It was after 11 p.m. and it had been a long, hard shift. Wendy was exhausted and more than ready to head for home. The satisfaction that her patient was now stable and improving was largely negated by the fact that Ross had been so close all day and she had deliberately avoided talking to him on the rare moments she could have. He hadn’t really deserved the anger she’d directed at him. She knew that Ross would never be deliberately cruel. He had obviously thought he was doing the right thing in keeping her uninformed. She, on the other hand, had been deliberately cruel by telling him about the trip to Castle Rock. Had it seemed like she had just gone back to the place they’d had their first date and had had a good time without him? Amends needed to be made and an apology, however brief, was called for.
The curtains had been drawn around Ross’s bed to encourage him to get some rest. With the consultant’s approval he would be moved back to the ward in the morning as his last blood-gas result and ECG had been virtually normal. The back brace was now ready and he could move into a much more intense phase of rehabilitation with the expectation that he wouldn’t suffer any further serious physical setbacks.
The blood on the mattress was a nasty surprise. Wendy grabbed a gauze pad from the tray beneath the cardiac monitor and clamped it over the stained dressing. The startled gaze Ross gave her changed as he turned to see what she was doing. He swore softly.
‘I was so sure it had stopped. I checked it five minutes ago and it was clean.’
‘You’re full of bat spit,’ Wendy reminded him. ‘These arterial stabs can be the devil to get under control when you’re so well anti-coagulated.’
‘I can do that.’
‘It’s OK.’ Wendy perched one hip on the side of the bed. ‘I was coming in to talk to you for a minute, anyway. I wanted to say sorry…about this morning.’
‘No. I’m sorry. I should have let them call you yesterday.’
‘Why? It’s not as though I’m next of kin or anything.’
There was a long silence as the implications of not being ‘anything’ hung in the air. Wendy increased the pressure of her fingers a little, watching intently to make sure no trickle of blood was escaping.
‘You’re the closest thing to next of kin I’ve ever had,’ Ross told her softly. ‘Or ever will have, I suspect.’
Wendy met his gaze. Ross had never mentioned his family or his upbringing. When she thought about it, she knew very little about this man she had fallen in love with, but it made no difference. She knew enough to know she loved him and that she wanted to be with him for the rest of her life.
‘Were you scared?’
Ross hesitated and then nodded slowly. ‘I thought it might be the end. Part of me thought it might be better if it was but then I realised just how much I wanted to live…and to beat this.’
‘You will,’ Wendy said fervently. ‘I just wish you’d let me help you. I love you, Ross.’
‘I’m not the same person you think you love.’ Wendy didn’t break the short silence that fell between them. ‘I guess I haven’t explained things well enough,’ Ross continued. ‘This has changed me. You don’t know who I am now. I’m not even sure I know yet.’
‘The change is physical. It might be only temporary. It’s you I love, Ross. What’s inside. The things you are capable of doing with your body are just a bonus.’
Ross raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘So it wasn’t that fantastic, then?’
‘What wasn’t?’
‘The sex.’
‘Oh-h-h.’ Wendy fixed her gaze on her fingers again. She ignored the discomfort the pressure was beginning to cause. She had to choose her words very carefully. The thought of Ross never being able to make love to her like that again hurt a lot, but the thought of him never even touching her again was far worse. Wendy raised her gaze and found Ross watching her very intently. She knew the feeling of privacy the curtains afforded was illusory but she couldn’t afford to pass up this opportunity. She had the chance to really talk to Ross here. An unexpected opportunity and one she wasn’t prepared to forgo. Wendy lowered her voice.
‘I’ve never loved anybody the way I love you, Ross,’ she said slowly. ‘And I never even imagined that sex could be that good.’
Ross nodded as she paused. A slow nod that signified complete agreement. He had known it had been the same for both of them, and that knowledge was a source of both pleasure and pain.
‘I know that it could never possibly be that good with anyone else.’
Ross made no response this time as Wendy paused to draw breath. She lowered her voice to a whisper that had no chance of being overheard. ‘I would rather just be touched by your hands and nothing else than even consider having some wild romp with any other man.’
The very idea of Wendy having a wild romp with anyone else gave Ross a wave of jealousy that was as much of a new experience as the way he felt about her. But he had no right to feel possessive. Or jealous.
‘It may well be possible to have a very good sex life.’ Wendy was taking his silence as a positive response but she wasn’t meeting his eyes now. Her words seemed awkward. Far more awkward than Ross suspected they would be if she had been discussing this subject with a patient. A stranger who would be making do with an inadequate sexual performance with someone other than her as a recipient.
‘It wouldn’t be the same, though.’ Ross was tormenting himself as much as Wendy with his bald statement. ‘It wouldn’t be as good.’
‘It would be a lot better than nothing.’
Ross had to strain to hear those quiet words. ‘No. For me, it would be worse than nothing. If I’d been stuck in a wheelchair when you met me it might have been different, but we both know how good it was, don’t we? And anything less would just be a reminder and I’d hate it. And it would get harder and harder to try and do anything and then you’d start to hate it.’ The tone of Ross’s words was becoming steadily harsher. ‘And eventually it would destroy even the memories of how good it was and…and maybe I’d just rather keep those memories intact.’
‘But you don’t even know yet what it’s going to be like.’ Wendy shook her head, refusing to accept his reasoning. ‘OK, things might be a bit different at first but they might improve. In a few weeks, or months, you might find things just as good as they ever were.’
‘Maybe.’ Ross sounded dubious. ‘But unless I reach that point I’m not going to allow the possibility that I’ll be anyone’s lover.’
Wendy caught the grain of hope eagerly. ‘So if you recover completely you’ll change your mind?’
Ross gritted his teeth. If he said yes, then Wendy would be happy. She’d offer to wait for him and she’d mean it. And it would destroy the chance that she could find someone else and get on with her life.
‘About sex? Yes.’ Ross swallowed painfully. ‘About us? No. It could take years, Wendy. We’ll both be very different people by then. I’m different already. Something like this changes your life. It changes what’s inside as much as what can be seen. It’s not something anyone who hasn’t experienced it could possibly understand.’
‘I want to understand.’ Wendy hated the way Ross was so determined to erect a barrier between them but simply trying to batter it down wasn’t going to work. He just added another layer to the barrier as a form of defence. She had to try and understand. To offer something he could use to build a bridge, not a wall. Was it just male pride that made the concept of an altered sex life so unacceptable? They could work through that, she knew they could—but only if Ross was as willing as she was to start the journey. If only the roles were reversed. She would be happy to offer physical fulfilment to Ross, even if it wasn’t the same for her any more. Ninety per cent of sexual satisfaction was in the mind, wasn’t it?
‘I know you want to understand,’ Ross said sadly. ‘The only thing you really need to understand right now is that I love you far too much to offer you anything that’s second best. It would destroy me. And in the end it would destroy you as well and I’m simply not going to let that happen.’
Wendy looked away. She gave herself a few moments to think by checking the puncture site beneath her fingers. The bleeding appeared to have stopped finally and she reached for a new dressing, her mind still turning over his words.
Ross still loved her. She loved him. Somehow, there had to be a way through this. She would wait—as long as it took, because she had no choice. Ross might not want her to wait but that wasn’t his choice and he was very much mistaken if he thought he had a say in it.
But if he guessed that she was waiting he’d just find another way of strengthening the barrier. Wendy needed him to believe that she had accepted what he wanted. She also needed to find a way to stay close enough to monitor the condition of that barrier. Her belief that time alone might be enough to weather and then crumble the wall was strong. Strong enough to make Wendy smile.
‘It doesn’t mean that we can’t be friends, does it, Ross?’
‘Of course not.’ Ross closed his eyes tightly as Wendy taped a pressure dressing to his arm. It was just long enough to register the wave of pain. Wendy was prepared to walk away from their relationship—but that was good, wasn’t it? It was what he wanted. What he knew he had to achieve. Maybe he just hadn’t expected to achieve it this easily.
He opened his eyes slowly. ‘I’m going to need my friends,’ he admitted. It was a small ray of light in the darkness that represented a future without Wendy. However painful it might be, Ross couldn’t bring himself to deny at least seeing her again. Talking to her. Sharing the kinds of things friends—good friends—could give and receive. ‘Especially you.’
‘That’s cool.’ Wendy’s smile hid a very large crack in her heart. ‘I’ll get someone to come and check your arm again in a few minutes. I’d better get home and get some beauty sleep before I have to head back here again.’ Her hesitation was only slight. ‘Friends are allowed a kiss goodbye, aren’t they?’
‘Only on the cheek.’ Ross tried to make it sound like a joke but it was all he could do to keep tears at bay. He was just weakened by his injury and the complication, he told himself. Physically and emotionally.
‘Bye, then.’ Wendy leaned down and kissed Ross lightly on the cheek. She tried to ignore the tingling sensation in her lips as she walked away. Tried to ignore the smell and taste of Ross’s skin that lingered and might never again be available to the extent she desired so much. She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and didn’t let herself hesitate at the door to look back, because if she did she would be lost and there would be no way on earth she could convince Ross that he didn’t need to put any more effort into pushing her away.
Ross could still feel the touch of her lips on his cheek. He could still smell the scent of her skin as she’d leaned fleetingly close enough to touch him. The strength of his longing to hold her and kiss her was overwhelming. She had neglected to pull the curtain closed when she had left. If she looked back from the doorway she would be able to see that longing written all over his face. And if she came back he would be lost. There was no way on earth he could summon the strength to redo what he had just attempted.
But Wendy went straight through the door without turning so much as a hair.
And for the first time in his adult life Ross Turnball felt the trickle of tears on his face.