‘ROSS TURNBALL?’ Wendy stopped searching for the laboratory test request form in the trays beneath the nurses’ station counter. ‘Are you a relative?’
‘Yes.’
Wendy looked more closely at the woman. She was probably in her early fifties, though her greying hair and lack of make-up made her look older. Her curiosity prompted a lapse in her customary professional tact. ‘Are you his mother?’
‘No. I’m his sister.’ Fortunately, the woman did not appear to be offended by the error. ‘Can I see him?’
‘He’s not in the ward right now.’ Wendy glanced at the wall clock. ‘He should be back by lunchtime. That’s half an hour or so away.’
‘Where is he?’
‘His physiotherapist has taken him outside somewhere, I think. He’s doing some wheelchair skills on sloping ground this morning.’
‘So it’s true, then? He’s never going to walk again?’
‘We don’t know that.’ Wendy frowned. She had never seen this woman before and Ross had never mentioned having a sister. For a close relative she didn’t appear to be very well informed and Wendy decided she would give out no more detail than she had offered to the journalist who had rung earlier that morning, looking for an update on Ross’s story. ‘Is Ross expecting you to visit?’
‘Doubt it.’ The woman looked away from Wendy’s direct gaze. ‘I haven’t seen him in more than ten years.’
‘Visiting hours are not till 2 p.m.’ Wendy had no intention of revealing Ross’s whereabouts. He might well need warning to prepare for this visitor. ‘You’ll have to come back then.’
‘I can’t do that. I’m only over from the Coast for the day and I’ve got shopping to do. I thought you said he’d be back in half an hour.’
‘I can’t guarantee that. Ross might well be seeing his occupational therapist before he returns to the ward. Lunchtime is pretty flexible here to fit each patient’s rehabilitation programme. You might be in for a long wait but I can show you where the relatives’ room is, if you like.’ At least the woman would be out of sight when Ross returned and he could choose whether or not he wished to see her. Wendy had the distinct impression that there was a lot of family history she knew nothing about and this reunion had the potential to be more like an attempted reconciliation with goodness only knew what possible emotional repercussions.
‘I don’t want to wait.’ The woman fished in the large handbag she carried and withdrew a small, unwrapped box of chocolates. She put them on the counter and pushed the box towards Wendy. ‘Tell him I called, would you?’
‘Sure.’ There was no card to accompany the gift. ‘What’s your name?’
‘He’ll know who I am.’ The woman turned and walked away, leaving Wendy staring after her.
Debbie glanced up from her position in front of the nurse manager’s computer. ‘What was that all about?’
‘I’m not sure. Seems a bit odd. Ross has never said anything about having a sister and she looked old enough to be his mother.’
‘Perhaps she is. Maybe it was one of those arrangements where Grandma brings up the teenager’s accidental baby as a sibling.’
‘Hmm.’ Wendy crouched again to look for the requisition form. ‘What colour are the forms for thyroid-function tests?’
But Debbie wasn’t listening, having turned to answer the phone on the desk beside her. ‘Yes, she is,’ she said a few seconds later. ‘Just a minute, please.’ She held the receiver out. ‘Phone for you, Wendy.’
Wendy straightened and stepped towards her colleague, reaching out to accept the phone. ‘Wendy speaking.’
The line was silent but it felt as though it was still connected. ‘Hello?’ Wendy tried again. ‘Are you there?’
The click was disconcerting. Someone had been on the line and they had terminated the call. She put the phone back on the desk and frowned at Debbie. ‘That was weird.’
‘Who was it?’
‘I have no idea. They didn’t say anything and then they hung up.’
‘It was a guy,’ Debbie informed her. She raised an eyebrow. ‘Maybe he just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.’
‘Not funny, Debs. What did he say exactly?’
‘Just “Hello, is Wendy Watson there?” Maybe he got cut off. He’ll probably ring back in a minute.’
Wendy shrugged. The ending of the call had come across as being deliberate and carefully timed so that she wouldn’t hang up first, but she had no intention of letting it bother her. ‘Thyroid-function tests?’ she reminded Debbie.
‘They’re on the standard blood-screen check. The white ones.’
‘Cool.’ Wendy opened her patient’s notes to peel off an ID sticker to label the form.
‘How’s Ross doing?’ Debbie seemed reluctant to return to her data entry task.
‘Great. He can wiggle the toes on both feet now and he’s not getting any of the hypotensive symptoms that made the transition to the wheelchair difficult.’
‘He’s been in the chair for over a week now, hasn’t he?’
‘Ten days today.’ It felt longer. Ten days of adjusting to the change in their relationship were taking their toll. Moving from being lovers to being friends was so much harder than moving in the opposite direction.
‘I guess he’s on the list for a motel soon.’
‘Not that I’ve heard.’ The transition units set up within the grounds of Coronation Hospital were like motels. Patients and their families could test their independence in a step between hospital and going home. They could practise using the kitchen and bathroom facilities, the bed and the living-room furniture. Ideas for adaptations needed at home could be finalised and theoretically it was then only a small step to discharge. Ross, however, was showing no signs of being ready to try out a motel.
‘It’ll be a few weeks away, I think,’ Wendy added. ‘He’s only beginning to recover the kind of upper-body strength he needs to start being properly independent.’
‘I’ll bet you can’t wait. How long has it been since you guys had any time alone together?’
‘Way too long.’ Wendy was unaware of the poignant smile that followed her words.
Debbie chuckled. ‘Well, you’ll get some time really alone once he gets a motel.’
‘Mmm.’ Wendy ignored the innuendo. It seemed amazing that nobody had picked up on the radical change in her relationship with Ross. Surely someone would have noticed how incredibly awkward it had been in the first few days when they had both been struggling to establish acceptable ground rules? They had both been self-conscious about avoiding physical touch and equally hesitant about dealing with the frequent and often heavy silences that had punctuated their rather stilted conversations. Had it not become so much easier in the last few days Wendy would have given in to her suspicion that their new relationship was simply not feasible.
Debbie couldn’t fail to pick up the less than enthusiastic undertone of Wendy’s response. ‘I know it’s not easy,’ she said sympathetically. ‘The transition times are always stressful. Ross went through a bad patch when he first came out of ICU. Then he had the scare of that embolus, and going from bed rest to mobility in a chair is a biggie. He’s not the only patient who goes through mood swings but he does seem to have been a lot happier in the last week or so.’
Seemingly right on cue, a peal of laughter was heard nearby in the corridor. A rich chuckle that Wendy had not heard coming from Ross since before the accident. The accompanying female giggle was also easily recognised. The sound made Debbie smile.
‘It’s good that he gets on so well with Sally.’
‘Mmm.’ Wendy dropped the completed requisition form into the appropriate tray and slotted the patient’s notes back into the trolley. ‘I’m on lunch,’ she said more brightly. ‘Are you coming?’
‘No, I’ve got to finish this. Why don’t you drag Ross away from Sally and have a picnic outside? It’s a lovely day and the patients all have the usual sandwiches for lunch.’
It was a lovely day. Wendy collected her own sandwiches and apple from her locker and debated whether to head for the staffroom or visit Ross. Now that she was working on the wards for a few weeks she saw a lot more of him throughout the day but it was casual and often fleeting contact. And Debbie was right. Ross had seemed much more relaxed lately. He was focussed on his recovery and showing signs of being more positive about the future.
Did that have anything to do with the rapport Ross had with his physiotherapist? Wendy paused to fill her water bottle from the cooler, smiling in response to Patrick Miller’s greeting as he walked past with another consultant.
‘How’s Harry?’ she queried. ‘Any news?’
‘She’s looking like a beached whale,’ Patrick said proudly. ‘Any day now.’
Harriet Miller was expecting twins. The Millers already had three children and their relationship was something of a legend around Coronation Hospital. Harry had been a nurse here herself until the death of her husband shortly before the birth of her first child. Patrick had been well established in his role of medical director by the time Harry had returned to work two years later. The circumstances of Harriet’s first marriage were also common knowledge. She had fallen in love with a patient. A paraplegic patient who had probably had the same kind of mobility level that Ross was currently experiencing.
The thought was disturbing. What was it Ross had said? Something about things being very different if their relationship had started after the accident—if they hadn’t known how good it had been. That he hadn’t discounted the possibility of a sexual relationship in the future—it just wouldn’t be with her. Ross was a patient of Sally’s. They got on well…and Sally had never known Ross prior to his accident. The wave of jealousy was unfamiliar enough to require analysis for identification. Wendy shook off the unpleasant emotion, only to find something almost as disturbing. Was her campaign to establish a non-threatening friendship as a means to stay close to Ross about to backfire?
There was no alternative that Wendy could imagine working, however. If she put any pressure on Ross he might actually see Sally as a means of definitively crushing any hopes Wendy was harbouring for a future with him. But if she allowed any more distance to develop she could be creating a ripe environment for a new beginning for Ross—with someone else. It could be as delicate a balancing act as negotiating the toughest rockface. Wendy pulled herself back mentally to the analogy that had made her think this journey had a chance of success. Sally was a high wind, maybe. Or a slide of scree. A complication that might require a modification of technique but couldn’t be allowed to cause a distraction from the goal.
Spending her lunch-break with Ross having a picnic and friendly chat suddenly seemed like an excellent idea. Besides, she had a message to pass on, didn’t she?
‘Hi, Ross.’ Wendy made sure that her cheerful smile matched her tone. ‘I wondered if you’d fancy a picnic outside.’ She waved her packet of sandwiches. ‘It’s such a nice day.’
‘I know. That’s where Sally and I have been for the last hour.’
Sally and I. Wendy tried to maintain her smile as she greeted the physio.
‘Do you want to try a transfer from chair to bed, Ross?’ Sally seemed in no hurry to leave.
He shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t make it. My shoulders are still aching from that hill.’
‘OK. Have a rest, then. I’ll pop back later when I’ve finished my list for the day.’
Later? After work maybe? Wendy cleared her throat. ‘You had a visitor while you were out, Ross. A woman.’
Wendy had his attention now. ‘Who?’
‘She wouldn’t tell me her name. She said she was your sister.’
A flash of something like shock crossed Ross’s features in the short silence that followed. ‘I haven’t seen Janice in more than ten years.’
‘She left a box of chocolates for you in the office. No card, though, and she said she was only in town for the day so she couldn’t wait.’
Ross shrugged. ‘I’m glad she didn’t. I don’t think I’d want to hear her opinion on whether or not I deserve my new status. Why don’t you keep the chocolates in the office? You guys can have them.’
The silence was heavier this time. Sally looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m off, then, Ross. I think you should go and catch some more sunshine with Wendy. You don’t have to push yourself if your arms are too tired.’
It was the first time Wendy had pushed the wheelchair and, judging by his rigid silence, Ross was hating it as much as she was. It felt as though she was patronising Ross by demonstrating her own physical fitness and it couldn’t fail to reinforce the reasoning on which Ross was basing his decision to end their relationship. Instead of being alongside, encouraging and supporting Wendy, Ross was being reduced to a childlike dependency. Things became even more strained when she began to deal with the cling film on the sandwiches intended for Ross.
‘I can do that by myself, you know. I’m not totally disabled.’
‘Sorry.’ This picnic might not have been such a good idea after all. Mood swings might be inevitable, but it had been Sally Ross had shared a joke with only a few minutes ago, and it was Wendy he was now sitting with in a faintly grim silence. Wendy turned her face to the warmth of the sunshine and tried to muster a safe topic of conversation to break the silence. The kind of conversation they’d begun having in the last week or so. Safe topics in which they could share plans and provide encouragement for each other.
Like friends did.
Wendy was still thinking about entering the famous Coast to Coast race across the south island that she and Ross had planned to do as a team. It wasn’t that she had any particular enthusiasm for the challenge any more but it seemed like a good way to show Ross that he wouldn’t hold her back from the kind of physical pursuits she had always enjoyed. He seemed perfectly happy to give her the benefit of his experience in training programmes.
‘The number of Ks you’re doing a week is great but you need more cross-training. Swap a run for a twenty-K cycle and get some kayaking time in.’
Ross was toying with the idea of moving back to the original career he’d had as a surgeon until he’d tired of city life. He told Wendy he would be using his brain in a period of retraining and there had to be specialties that would be suitable. Wendy had agreed wholeheartedly.
‘Hand surgery would be perfect. The surgeons have to sit down to operate and dealing with the kind of microsurgery needed for nerve and blood vessel damage would be a very worthwhile challenge.’
Safe topics.
The sunshine was relaxing Wendy a little. She swallowed her bite of sandwich and decided to take a risk.
‘Janice looks a lot older than you. I made the mistake of asking if she was your mother.’
Ross gave a short bark of laughter. ‘She would have hated that. She never quite forgave my mother for the embarrassment of producing a baby when Janice was sixteen. She thought people would assume it was hers.’
‘Was she the oldest in the family?’
‘No. She had an older brother, Richard. He’d left home by the time I came along.’
It was an odd choice of words. Surely Richard was also Ross’s brother? ‘How old was your mother when she had you?’
‘Forty-two.’
Wendy smiled. ‘You must have been a bit of a surprise, then.’
‘You could say that.’ Ross put his half-eaten sandwich down. ‘It took a very long time for me to find out why it had been such an unpleasant one.’
Wendy waited, sensing that Ross had more to say. He looked up after a long silence.
‘I’ve never told anyone about this before.’
‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Wendy said quietly.
‘I’d like to.’
‘And I’d like to listen.’ Wendy was surprised to find she felt shy. As though she were meeting Ross for the first time. Perhaps, on a different level, that was precisely what was happening.
‘My dad ran a timber-processing plant,’ Ross began slowly. ‘He employed a lot of people on the coast which made him a fairly important local figure. He also had to travel quite a lot and often made lengthy overseas trips to find and develop contracts. Sometimes he’d be away for two or three months at a time.’
Ross took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. ‘Janice and Richard had left home by the time I was old enough to notice, and even when Dad was home it was a pretty lonely existence. Mum was very involved in community affairs—holding up the family’s prestigious social position.’ Ross gave a short huff of laughter. ‘I think I spent more time with the family dog for company than any people.’ Glancing up, he caught Wendy’s frown and smiled.
‘Hey, it wasn’t that bad. We lived just out of Hokitika and I had the bush on my back doorstep. I learned to love being outside and I never felt lonely because I’d never known it to be any other way.’
Then his own brow creased. ‘What was harder was learning to accept that my parents didn’t like me. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t please my dad and when he was around my mother was always focussed on him. What worked best was staying out of their way so I got independent fast. By the time I was at high school I had joined the tramping club and the canoeing club and every other outdoor group I could. I made good friends with people that loved doing the same things I did and meeting tough physical challenges gave me the first real taste of any self-esteem. It also helped me spend as much time as possible away from home.’
‘But that’s awful!’ Wendy was horrified. ‘Was it because you were so much younger than the other children? That they hadn’t planned on another baby?’
‘I didn’t find out the reason until I was halfway through medical school. My mother died after a long struggle with cancer and my father had a heart attack and died about a year later. It was Janice who told me the story the last time I saw her. At my father’s funeral, in fact.’
Wendy waited quietly, resisting any urge to check her watch. This was far more important than arriving back from her lunch-break on time.
‘When my father was overseas on one of his business trips, my mother had an affair with his deputy manager. She didn’t realise she was pregnant until long after it was over. She’d confessed, the guy had left town and my parents had somehow patched up their marriage and made a pact not to let anyone know the truth. It would have created a scandal that would have undermined their own and their children’s futures.
‘Anyway…’ Ross’s tone became more businesslike. ‘They made a decision to make the best of things but there I was, the living reminder of that mistake my mother had made and the threat to their hard-won social position. Dad wanted nothing to do with a child that wasn’t his, and I think Mum was desperate enough to hold her marriage together to collude with his rejection whenever push came to shove. My half-siblings discovered the truth at some stage and I’m sure Janice only came to have a look at me today to reassure herself that I’ve got what I deserved for being the blot in an otherwise idyllic family history.’
Wendy’s own lunch was long forgotten now. She broke one of the rules she had set herself in the last two weeks, reaching out to place her hand on Ross’s knee in a gentle touch of sympathy.
‘Your family didn’t know what they missed. What they’re still missing.’ Her smile was tentative. ‘But maybe it was that environment that gave you the strength you have now and the capability for the kind of passion and loyalty you have for the things you love. Like medicine and the outdoors…and…’ And me, Wendy wanted to add.
Perhaps her touch or the look in her eyes conveyed her silent addition. Ross seemed to understand. His hand covered hers and squeezed it gently.
‘I guess that’s true and maybe I should thank them in that case because I’m going to need that strength from now on. I’ve got a battle of my own to win.’
And he was going to have to do it alone, Wendy finished silently. Because that was the way he had always coped. She understood but still didn’t accept. She was different. He could trust her to be there for him. There was no way she was going to reject him—for any reason. She had to bite her tongue to prevent herself saying any of it aloud. For the moment the connection they had made had to be enough. Ross had to believe that Wendy understood and accepted his position.
She nodded almost matter-of-factly instead. ‘You are going to need that strength,’ she agreed. ‘You can do this, though, Ross. I know you can.’
The hand covering her own was withdrawn. ‘I hope you’re right but I’m not sure I share your optimism. Right now I’m feeling totally exhausted. Do you think you could give me a push back inside? I’ve had enough for now.’
Enough of being up and about or enough of her company? Wendy collected the remains of their food and pushed the chair silently back to the main hospital building. Ross ignored the scenery of carefully tended lawns and gardens. He barely registered the trip up the ramp and through the automatic doors. He was feeling exhausted but it was more than physical weariness after his workout with Sally that morning. He’d never told anyone about his childhood before and even telling Wendy had felt like a risk.
Keeping his loveless childhood private had been an integral part of his survival well before he’d recognised the defence mechanism. Because he had learned the truth far too late, the belief that confession would only open other people’s eyes to the reason he was unlovable had never really left him. The risk, as far as Wendy was concerned, shouldn’t have seemed so significant and the realisation that it was had been the persuasion he’d needed to tell her. If he hadn’t accepted that he had let her go already and therefore had little to lose, how could he possibly expect her to accept that and move on?
It seemed to have backfired in some subtle manner, however. Ross had the disturbing impression that Wendy now understood perfectly and it had somehow strengthened any lack of acceptance she harboured. And Ross had wanted so badly to wrap himself in that understanding and seek reassurance that he’d found at least one person in his life who would offer him unconditional love. But he couldn’t. Could he? Ross fought the confusion and allowed himself to feel overwhelmed and frustrated.
He was getting accomplished at harnessing frustration to create the distance that was needed between himself and Wendy for both their sakes.
‘Thanks for your help,’ he said brusquely, as Wendy turned into the doorway of Room 2. ‘Bit heavier than pushing a pram, isn’t it?’
Wendy ignored the barbed comment. ‘Do you want to stay up?’
‘No, I’ll go back to bed and have a rest.’
‘Do you need any help?’
‘What do you think?’
Wendy avoided his glare as she parked the chair and moved within view. Her voice was tight. ‘What I meant was, do you want my help?’
‘No.’ Ross was sorry his tone had hurt Wendy but his withdrawal was working. He could handle this if he kept enough distance between them and it might help her if she had something to be angry about. ‘But thanks for lunch.’
‘My pleasure.’ Any feeling of connection was lost now and Wendy was left wondering why Ross had even told her about his childhood. It was unfair to allow her to draw closer only to push her away again. To her deep disappointment, the hope that something deeper than friendship was re-emerging had gone. Wendy now felt that she had been manipulated in some way and she didn’t like it. She walked away from Ross without turning back. ‘I’ll let Debbie know that you want some assistance.’
Wendy kept her distance until the end of her shift. Debbie told her that Ross was sound asleep when she was due to go home at 3.30 p.m. so Wendy simply left, promising herself a long, hard run to burn off the frustration that today’s encounter with Ross had engendered. It was almost dark by the time Wendy arrived back at her townhouse apartment. She was hot and exhausted, looking forward to her shower so much she almost didn’t notice that anything was amiss when she collected a clean tracksuit and moved towards her en suite bathroom.
For a long minute, Wendy had no idea what it was that made her stop in her tracks and lift the hairs on the back of her neck with a horrible prickling sensation. She looked carefully around, her senses heightened as she listened and looked. What was different? The half-opened drawer in the dresser? No. She was often in too much of a hurry to shut drawers properly. The rumpled quilt on her bed? No. Hadn’t she sat there to lace up her trainers? Wendy snapped on the bedside lamp to dispel the rapidly gathering darkness, automatically moving to pull the curtains as her next action.
Then she froze. The window on the left was hanging open and she was absolutely certain she hadn’t left it like that. Aware of her pounding heart, Wendy took a look over her shoulder. Was someone in her apartment? Waiting for her to get into the shower before making his next move? Moving slowly and silently, Wendy picked up the cordless phone beside her bed and stepped tentatively into the bathroom. Having reassured herself that she was alone in the tiny room, Wendy locked the door behind her and leaned against it as she punched the three-digit emergency services number into the phone and requested transfer to the police department.
Leaving the safety of the locked room was unthinkable before the police arrived and Wendy found she was shaking badly when she finally unlocked the door, having been reassured that she was safe.
‘Did you see anyone?’
‘No. I had no idea there had been a break-in until I saw the open window.’
An officer was looking at the scene. ‘The catch is broken. Looks like it’s been forced with a crowbar or hammer.’
Wendy felt another shudder run down her spine. Her home had been violated by someone in possession of tools that could quite easily double as lethal weapons.
‘What’s missing?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t looked.’
‘Have a look now, while we’re here.’
So Wendy looked. It was hard to think coherently. The thought that someone had been in here while she had been out running was such a shock. Had the intruder come in as soon as she’d left? He’d have to have been watching her to know when it had been safe.
‘This drawer’s a bit of a mess.’ Wendy fought off a wave of nausea as she looked at what she was sure had been neat piles of underwear. ‘I can’t tell if anything’s missing, though.’
What had been on top of the dresser? ‘I had a necklace here. A chain with a silver fern pendant. I think it’s gone.’
‘You think?’
‘I—I’m not really sure,’ Wendy confessed. ‘I haven’t worn it for a while.’
‘Was it valuable?’
‘Not really. Some friends gave it to me when I went overseas.’ She gave a shaky laugh. ‘So I could advertise New Zealand while I was away.’
The female police officer was looking sympathetic but her colleague was looking at his watch. He looked even less impressed when Wendy took them through the rest of the apartment. Her CD player and television were in her small lounge. Her wallet lay untouched on the kitchen bench with her car keys lying beside it.
‘Looks like whoever it was got frightened off. Maybe they didn’t even get inside. If you find anything you can be sure is missing, let us know. Have you got any way of fixing your window?’
‘I can nail it shut.’
The policewoman had finished making notes. ‘Have you got a friend you can call? It might be a good idea to have some company for a while.’
Wendy nodded. She was cold and starting to stiffen up after her run. What she really needed was a hot shower and a glass of something with a high alcohol content.
‘I’ll be fine. Thank you for coming. I feel a bit silly for calling you when there’s really nothing to see.’
‘You felt unsafe,’ the policewoman reminded her. ‘You did the right thing.’
The male officer was moving towards the door. ‘Call again if you’re worried. We’ll have a scout around outside as we’re leaving.’
Wendy nailed the window shut. She went around her whole apartment twice after that, checking every nook and cranny for signs that she had been invaded or, worse, that she was still not alone. It was ridiculous, peering under her bed like a frightened child and testing the locks on her doors. She was safely locked away inside her empty apartment and as the realisation hit home Wendy suddenly felt more alone than she had ever felt in her life.
The cordless phone was still clutched in her hand like a talisman and the telephone number for Coronation Hospital was beating a soft tattoo in her head. If she rang Ross, would he feel any of the terror she had initially been subjected to? Would he comfort her and demand to know everything she had done to ensure her own safety from now on? Or would he see it as an example of a situation in which he would have been helpless to protect her? A reminder of how his physical disability could turn into a liability? Wendy shook her head. She couldn’t call Ross. Instead, she called Kelly Drummond and her friend arrived thirty minutes later. By the time Wendy had had a hot shower and two glasses of cold white wine and had gone over the whole incident in detail with Kelly, she was feeling much happier.
‘It’s probably nothing. Thousands of houses get broken into every day. I’m really lucky I haven’t lost anything.’
‘You’ve lost the feeling of being secure in your own home and that’s not a small loss. Would you like me to stay the night with you?’
‘I haven’t got a spare bed,’ Wendy said sadly.
‘I can sleep on the couch.’
‘No. We’ve both got an early start tomorrow. I’d feel terrible if you didn’t get a decent sleep.’
Sleep proved elusive for Wendy even in the comfort of her own bed. She arrived at work the next day feeling tired and edgy. It wasn’t that she was intentionally avoiding Ross but the day was a busy one and there was no time for anything more than a casual greeting and a few words in passing. Wendy said nothing about the events of the previous evening and by the end of the day she was confident she had dealt with the incident and any repercussions.
She hadn’t bargained on her reluctance to go out for a run that evening, however. She couldn’t shake the nasty suspicion that someone might be watching. And waiting.
‘You’re being stupid,’ she told herself aloud. If someone wanted to break in and steal something they’d had all day to do so. It wasn’t as if she had any real proof that anyone had actually set foot inside the flat. She could have messed up that drawer absent-mindedly, grabbing a pair of knickers in the usual early morning rush. And that necklace could be anywhere. Maybe it had slipped behind the dresser or fallen into one of the drawers. It might have accidentally been sucked up into the vacuum cleaner.
It was so out of character for Wendy to feel intimidated that she pushed herself to deal with it properly. She went for a run, washed every piece of underwear she possessed, made a mental note to shift the furniture next time she vacuumed to look for the necklace and sat down after dinner with the intention of making a timetable to implement the training programme Ross was recommending. The task took longer than anticipated due to the number of phone calls she received.
Roger, one of the fire officers who had been on the USAR training course, rang to tell her about the class reunion that Dave, one of the instructors, was organising in two weeks’ time at a local vineyard. Wendy agreed that it was a great idea.
‘Any chance of Ross being able to come? I heard he’s up and about in a wheelchair now.’
‘It’s possible,’ Wendy said more cautiously.
‘Could you pass on the invitation?’
‘Why don’t you try ringing him yourself?’ Wendy suggested. ‘Or, better yet, pop in and visit. I’m sure he’d like to see you.’ And he might be more likely to respond positively if he was invited in his own right rather than as Wendy’s partner.
Kelly rang to make sure she was OK and Wendy assured her she was fine. And, yes, she would love to have lunch with Kelly and Jessica on Friday.
She was fine. When the phone rang again just as she was putting the finishing touches to her training schedule, she answered swiftly.
‘Hello, Wendy speaking.’
It took only a fraction of a second to recognise another vaguely sinister silence on the other end of the line.
‘Hello?’ Her repetition was irritated. The idea that some crank caller had her home as well as work number did not frighten Wendy. It infuriated her. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ she snapped. ‘Why don’t you grow up? Or try ringing doorbells and running away for a change. Haven’t you heard that variety is the spice of life?’ She jammed her finger on the disconnect button and then threw the phone into the corner of the couch. Then she took a very deep breath. She was not going to allow herself to be frightened. The fact that the call had come so soon after an attempted break-in was coincidental. She had quite enough to deal with in her emotional life without becoming paranoid.
Roger visited Ross the next afternoon but he looked disappointed when he stopped to talk to Wendy on his way out of the ward.
‘He doesn’t seem to think he’s anywhere near ready to get out for an evening.’
‘Give him a week or so to think about it,’ Wendy advised. ‘It’s a big step for any patient but it’s something we all encourage.’
‘Maybe he will have improved a bit more by then.’ Roger sounded hopeful. ‘Sounds like he’s doing quite well. He said he’s getting some movement in his legs and he’s strong enough to get himself in and out of bed now.’
Wendy nodded. ‘They’re talking about moving him to one of the rehabilitation units soon. They’re like motels. When he can cope with that he’ll be able to go home.’
‘At least he won’t be on his own.’ Roger smiled at Wendy. ‘He picked the right kind of nurse for a girlfriend, didn’t he? You know all about this kind of stuff.’
Wendy groaned inwardly as she watched Roger leave. Did his perfectly reasonable assumption that she and Ross were still a couple have something to do with making Ross reject the invitation to go out socially? And why had Ross not said anything to put Roger straight? Their close friends knew things were difficult but right from the start there had been an unspoken agreement between Ross and herself to keep the change in their relationship private. On her part, she had no intention of advertising something she still didn’t accept. Was Ross still trying to convince himself or did he think he was sparing her the negative reaction she would encounter if people assumed she had been the one to end the relationship due to the disability Ross now had?
Kelly’s visit the following day should have been a more positive experience for Ross, so Wendy was surprised to see Ross looking less than happy after the young paramedic’s visit.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you’d been burgled?’ he demanded.
‘I wasn’t.’ Wendy tried to sound casual as she sat down beside the bed. She had stayed on for several hours overtime after her shift today to cover an absence. It was 8 p.m. and she was tired. The fact that Ross was alone in his room for the moment had prompted her to stop in for a visit before heading home. Sam was playing pool and the other current inhabitants of Room 2 were watching a rugby game on the wide-screen television in the patients’ lounge. ‘Nothing was taken,’ Wendy continued calmly. ‘The window catch was broken, that’s all. Probably some kids thought they’d have a go and then changed their minds.’
Ross was unconvinced. ‘Kelly seemed to think it had been a fairly scary incident. You should have called me.’
‘Like you did when you had the pulmonary embolus?’
Ross’s expression suggested that the comparison was justified but his frown returned swiftly. ‘You should think about getting a flatmate.’
‘I’ve only got one bedroom.’
‘Then maybe you should shift.’
‘I was planning to shift, remember?’ Wendy couldn’t help the echo of bitterness in her tone. ‘I’d even written out the notice for my landlord. I’d written my letter of resignation for this job as well. Just as well I didn’t post them, isn’t it?’
The silence was heavy. Ross shifted his position on the bed and his expression finally softened.
‘I’m sorry, Wendy. Guess I stuffed up quite a few plans for you, didn’t I?’
‘They weren’t just mine,’ Wendy said tonelessly. ‘We made those plans together, Ross.’
Ross made a sound of wry amusement. ‘We had it all sorted, didn’t we? We were going to live in my house in the bush. We were going to win the Coast to Coast race together. You were going to get a job at the Coast hospital.’
‘Until we started a family.’ Wendy’s words were no more than a whisper. She wasn’t sure Ross heard them. How had her visit descended so swiftly into this emotional quagmire? She had been so careful to avoid it recently. So careful to try and let Ross believe that she would support him, as a friend, until he got through this period of uncertainty. Maybe she had failed. Or did Ross feel the need to bring it out piece by piece to ensure that any ghosts were properly laid? Wendy wished she wasn’t feeling so weary. Tears were threatening and showing Ross how deeply this still affected her wasn’t going to help. She swallowed hard and blinked the prickle away from the backs of her eyes.
‘You even picked out the limestone cave as the place you wanted to get married in.’
That hurt. The reminder of the beauty of that small, natural cavern and the pure magic of the mutual declaration of love was too much for Wendy. ‘It’s only you that thinks it’s not still possible.’
‘Oh, come on, Wendy! You wouldn’t even be able to push the wheelchair up that path.’
‘The cave was just an idea, Ross.’
‘No—it was a lot more than that. It was a symbol, wasn’t it? It was outside. A bit wild and free. Like the kind of life we planned to share. The kind of life you can still have. It’s over, Wendy. You have to accept that. There’s no future for us.’ His voice cracked harshly. ‘There’s no chance I’m going to marry anyone the way I am, even if it wasn’t going to be in some stupidly inaccessible cave. There’s no way I’m ever going to roll down any aisle in a bloody wheelchair.’
Another silence fell and Wendy saw Sam push himself back into the room and position his chair for a transfer onto his bed. The other occupants of Room 2 would be returning shortly as the ward settled for the night. Her private time with Ross was over.
Maybe it was time to accept that everything with Ross was over.