THREE days later the ICU had been returned to its original purpose. Gwyneth and Mr Armstrong would remain but Chloe was due to be discharged and all the other dengue patients had recovered and been evacuated with their families.
Esther and Bill had fallen into a rough routine, Esther working on her epidemiology report from the doctor’s room off the ICU during the day so she was on hand if needed, and Bill, by day catching up on paperwork in the MS’s office and acting as advisor to the mosquito spraying teams, then staying over at the hospital at night to be with his mother and daughter.
This was a good arrangement, Esther told herself, as it meant they only saw each other on the ward, in front of other people—contact that required cool professionalism between them.
Whether there was anything else, Esther no longer knew. Well, she knew how she felt because it was how she’d always felt around Bill. As if the miracle of love had been created just for her…
As if her body had been taken over by an alien force that wanted nothing more than to spend every minute of every day in this man’s arms…
As if the sun was shining inside her, warming and lighting every corner of her life…
It was all nonsense, of course, as it had been when she’d first fallen in love with Bill, because life wasn’t about miracles, and alien forces and inner sun. Life was a practical business—sleeping, eating, working, worrying.
Well, she had plenty of the worrying right now. Worrying how Bill was handling the emotional earthquake that had happened in his life. Worrying about Gwyneth’s recovery. Worrying about Chloe and what the future held for her.
Worrying about Chloe full stop, for Chloe had become a whole new problem, worming her way into Esther’s heart, sneaking into the dark places in her mind where another baby might once have been.
Not that Esther was willing to admit this was happening.
And if Chloe was allowed to play near Esther’s feet during the day and pulled herself up on Esther’s chair, chattering her baby words to her, it was only because, Esther told herself, it saved a nurse from keeping the little girl occupied.
The drip had been removed the previous day, and Chloe was sitting on Esther’s knee at the desk, ‘writing’ on scrap paper with a purple felt-tip pen, when Bill came into the room.
Esther swore under her breath—a mild swear word but heartfelt. She’d tried to avoid playing with Chloe when Bill was around, or likely to be around. She wasn’t sure why, but instinct told her to stand back. But she could no more stand back from the still weak little mortal, who now smiled and held out her arms to Esther whenever she walked into Chloe’s room, than she could stop breathing.
Was it because she feared Chloe might be rejected, and she, Esther, had experienced rejection far too often?
She didn’t know. All she knew was that the child had sneaked into her heart, and that it was important Bill didn’t find out.
‘So this is what you call work,’ Bill said.
Chloe, seeing him, held out her arms with a delighted, ‘Dada!’
He reached for her automatically, but when he held her close, Esther saw the love he felt for the little one sparkling in his eyes and curling around the soft smile on his lips.
‘She’s due to be discharged?’
It was more a statement than a question—something they both knew. A hospital environment wasn’t the place for a child.
Esther nodded.
‘Now we seem to have the dengue under control,’ Bill continued, ‘and we’re not busy here, I’ve asked John for some time off to take care of her. I can leave her at the crèche when I come in to visit Ma, or bring her with me as soon as Ma is a bit better.’
Esther nodded, quelling disappointment that he’d not asked her to help look after Chloe—not even mentioned Esther’s continued involvement with the two of them.
He was assuming, now her work was done, that she’d be leaving, and why wouldn’t he?
Because of one brief burst of passion in the back seat of the car?
‘Then I can head back to Brisbane,’ Esther said, certain she could feel cracks opening in her heart and blood seeping through them.
‘No, you can’t.’ Bill was frowning at her. ‘You have to stay. No one’s allowed out of town for a month—it was part of the measures you put in place.’
Esther wasn’t certain it had been part of her measures, but that wasn’t the point right now.
‘A month! Another three weeks! But that means I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year.’
Bill shrugged.
‘I guess you had plans, too,’ he said, though without the slightest hint of sympathy.
‘Well, I did, and this is most inconvenient.’ Big lie, but Bill wasn’t to know! ‘I’m sure the ban doesn’t apply to me. I’ll speak to the administrator.’
‘He’d refer the matter back to me,’ Bill said, and Esther thought she detected a hint of smugness in the words. ‘And I’d have to point out you have been living with two people who’ve had dengue, and so it’s possible you could be sickening for it.’
‘No one else in your apartment block contracted it,’ Esther reminded him.
‘No, but the rules have to apply to everyone.’
And on that note he walked out the door.
‘That was telling her, wasn’t it, sweetness?’ Bill whispered to his daughter as they went back to her room to collect her toys.
He wasn’t sure why he’d been so adamant, except that when Esther had mentioned leaving he’d known he had to stop her. His life had been in a turmoil even before she’d arrived, with Hugo and the dengue outbreak, and since then it had got worse, so he hadn’t been able to think straight for more than a second at a time.
But now things had eased off, one thing was clear in his mind. His feelings for Esther hadn’t changed. Oh, he’d tried to pretend he was over her, he’d even told her, way back, that she was too hard to love, but none of it was true. No matter how prickly she could be, or how much she withdrew from him, that was all part of the essential Esther.
And he loved her.
There, he’d said it.
But not out loud, his head reminded him. Or to her!
‘No, we’ll do that later, won’t we, Chloe? Both tell her we love her. In a week or two, when things have settled down and she’s had a chance to relax. She already loves you, I know, and I’m pretty sure she still has feelings for me, from stuff I won’t tell you about, so I think there’s hope, my little Chloe. Hope for both of us!’
He was still telling Chloe his plans for all their futures when Esther came into the room.
‘Are you doing her discharge or am I?’ she asked, so coolly Bill wondered if perhaps he was getting carried away with his plans.
‘I’ll handle it,’ he said. ‘You finish up what you’re doing then why don’t you take a few days’ break? You’ve been flat out since you arrived.’
‘Take a break doing what?’ Esther demanded. ‘Jamestown’s hardly a thriving tourist destination these days.’
‘You could laze by the pool, read a book—the hospital library may not be operating but someone in Admin could let you in to have a browse. And the beach is still there. You can swim—sunbathe. Fish?’
He tried a smile because it was obvious from the stubborn set of her lips he wasn’t getting far.
‘I could mind Chloe for you and you could go to work,’ Esther suggested. ‘Seeing I’ll be here anyway. With the limited number of medical personnel in town, it probably isn’t convenient for you to have to take time off.’
We could mind Chloe together, Bill nearly said, but just in time he guessed Esther was trying to work out some way they didn’t have to be together, and because this was, to his way of thinking, a hopeful sign, and they’d still have the evenings and, if he played his cards right, the nights, then…
‘Are you sure? Do you mean it? It would be a great help if you would.’ Had he overdone his surprise? His delight? He hoped not, because Esther could smell a sham a mile away. ‘I’d be really grateful.’
She peered suspiciously at him for a moment, as if she’d caught a whiff of something fishy, but then she nodded and walked away, turning back to say, ‘I’ll pack up all my notes. I can work on them quite easily from your place. I’ve been using your car, but Gwyneth’s has the baby seat. Should we swap keys?’
Swap keys? That was the problem with women, Bill thought. You followed a carefully prepared strategy to get them to agree to something, then once they were on the programme they swept ahead of you, working out all the little practical details you hadn’t realised existed.
‘I’ll take Chloe home,’ he managed. ‘I can spare that much time off.’
Esther went back to the office, cursing her rash promise. Though it could still work. She’d go down and see someone in Admin and find somewhere else to stay. That way, when Bill came home at night she could leave—go back to her billet. They’d barely need to see each other.
‘The problem is, as more houses and apartments become habitable, the city administrator is bringing more tradespeople in. Electricians, plumbers, plasterers and painters to do internal work on buildings. Accommodation is still restricted to people providing these services, and in some cases their families, if being apart means hardship for them.’
Esther was pleased to hear about families beginning to return, as the battered city needed families to give a sense of normalcy, especially with Christmas so close. But being pleased about one aspect of things didn’t alter her dismay about the lack of new lodgings for herself.
‘Don’t you like living at Bill’s apartment?’ the woman asked, apparently overcome by disbelief that anyone would quibble over living with Bill Jackson.
‘It’s not that I don’t like it, but I feel it’s intrusive,’ Esther said, lying for the second time in an hour, but ‘it’ll drive me nuts, being that close to him’ didn’t seem an appropriate reply.
Back in Bill’s apartment, she set up all her papers on the dining table, spreading out her maps and diagrams so it looked a mess, but it also rendered the table unusable. She may be stuck with sleeping here, but no way was she going to sit down at a table for meals, she and Bill and Chloe in her high-chair, as if they were a family. That was too much to ask of her equanimity.
Not that her equanimity lasted long. No longer than the first evening. She’d put Chloe to bed and was singing quietly to her when Bill returned from the hospital.
He came into the room and stood by the crib, looking down at his daughter as she drifted off to sleep, then he put his arm around Esther’s waist and drew her out of the room.
Outside the door, as naturally as if the past three years had never existed, they turned towards each other, arms loosely wrapped around each other’s bodies, and shared a look that acknowledged this had always been going to happen. Then they kissed.
‘Oh no, this isn’t going to happen again,’ Esther said, using her hands against his chest to push him away.
‘Why not?’ Bill asked, his blue eyes scanning her face as if to read an answer on it. ‘We’re attracted to each other and if it’s Marcie worrying you, I’m reasonably sure I’m no longer married. If that sounds vague, it’s because I signed divorce papers six months ago, but my attorney’s had trouble tracking Marcie down.’
Though Ma seems to have no trouble finding her, Bill thought, distracted by a memory of a conversation he’d had some days ago.
‘It’s not a matter of you being married or not married, Bill,’ Esther was saying, reminding Bill of where they were right now. ‘I just don’t want to get involved again. I’ve never been any good at casual relationships and that’s all it would be, because we tried something more and it didn’t work. You said yourself, I’m too hard to love.’
She looked up at him and touched her hand to his cheek.
‘I’m too scared to love, too,’ she whispered, and he knew that was the honest truth. It was something she meant from the very depths of her being, because love, for her, had always been associated with loss and the heartbreak that accompanied it.
So, how did he convince her to try again?
How could he win back the loving, vibrant being he knew dwelt inside her protective armour?
He had no idea, but as he folded her close against his body, in a warm, all-enveloping hug, he knew he had to find a way.
Through Chloe, perhaps?
No, that would be unfair.
And not what he wanted, anyway…
You’re not a family, Esther reminded herself the following morning as she stood in the doorway of the apartment, Chloe on her hip, waving goodbye to Bill as he stepped into the elevator.
This was how life seduced you. It made you feel settled and comfortable, and promised that dreams could come true, then, bang, the rug was pulled out from under your feet and you were out in the cold again.
‘Mixed metaphors, little Chloe,’ she whispered to the baby. ‘But not as mixed as my emotions.’
But we could be a family, a seductive voice inside her whispered when they repeated the process the next morning, and with the sun shining, and a gurgling baby in her arms, hope stole beneath her guard.
I can get over the past.
We could try again.
Chloe will be our shared joy…
By the third morning, she’d given up on the pretence. Living this dream was impossible. Living with Bill was torture! He was obviously unaffected by their proximity, not suffering through nights of frustration, turning and twisting in bed as he imagined her in bed only a matter of metres away.
Her nights were so bad she peered suspiciously at him in the morning, trying to read evidence of a sleepless night. But, no, he apparently woke refreshed, because he bathed and dressed his daughter, teased and tickled her, with perfect equanimity, then, seemingly unaware of Esther’s presence as anything other than someone to mind Chloe during the day, he handed her over.
He’d tried once, with that seductive kiss outside Chloe’s bedroom, but since then—since she’d said no!—he’d been the perfect house-mate, coming home in the evening, insisting on taking turns to cook dinner, chatting about his day, about the dengue, about anything but love, relationships or sex! Calm as you please, while her hormones were rampaging all over the place.
Bill drove to work, aware he should be thinking about his mother, who wasn’t picking up as quickly as she should be, but his mind lingered at the apartment with the woman who was causing torment in his life.
His plan, subconsciously developing way back when he’d suggested a ban on movement out of Jamestown for a month, had been to keep Esther around for long enough to convince her he still loved her. Which, he’d known all along, would be the easy part of the exercise.
Convincing her to take a risk on love again—that was going to be the hard part.
Now, even before he’d got the easy part done, he was being driven to distraction by her presence in his house—by wanting her so badly his body was a constant ache.
Look but don’t touch might be good advice to give to kids in antique shops, but it wasn’t doing him a whole lot of good in the libido department.
So, what was the next move?
Make sure he was divorced—that would be a good start. He’d email his attorney today—insist something be done to finalise the divorce.
But even as he thought this, a juddering feeling inside his body reminded him of why he hadn’t pushed the matter. Deep down he’d always feared upsetting Marcie might mean he’d lose custody of Chloe, and now, knowing she wasn’t his biological daughter was accentuating that fear.
Would it come to a choice? Esther or Chloe?
He pulled up in the hospital car park and sighed. The devastation Hugo had caused seemed minor compared to the mess he’d made of his life.
So, sort it out! he told himself, and he climbed out of the car and headed for the hospital. Check his mother first, then email the attorney, then lose himself in work. He had to speak to someone at Cairns Base Hospital about the earlier dengue cases. Would they have kept samples of the strain? Frozen cultures maybe?
Still thinking of the disease, he entered his mother’s room, to find her sitting up in bed, arguing with the nurse about the monitor leads.
‘Ah, William. About time you got here. Tell this girl to take these things off, will you?’
Bill couldn’t believe it. From death’s door to argumentative. Well, he could believe the argumentative, just not the rapidity of the recovery.
‘I’ll handle it,’ he said to the nurse, then shook his head at his mother. ‘You really are feeling better?’
‘Of course I am,’ she said, though her voice was still weak and he could see a tremor in her hands. ‘You can discharge me now. Discharge? That’s the word you use, isn’t it?’
‘It’s the word we use but you’re not going just yet, Ma. This is a very nasty virus and you could suffer a relapse. Maybe in a day or two.’
‘But who’s minding Chloe?’
Bill hesitated. If he told her the truth, would it ease her mind or worry her even more? He was still dithering when his mother hazarded a guess.
‘That woman is, isn’t she?’
‘Her name’s Esther and, yes, she is,’ he said. ‘And I couldn’t have managed without her—even before she took on the babysitting duties—so not one word against her, Ma.’
Her lips tightened and he wondered what comment she was biting back, but at least, whatever it was, she didn’t say it out loud and he didn’t have to have an argument with a weak, and barely convalescent woman.
The resident who was now officially looking after his mother came in and, pleased someone else would be telling his mother she’d have to stay in hospital a little longer, Bill departed, promising to return later.
Up in his office he found a pile of messages, a lot from journalists enquiring about the outbreak and wanting the latest information. He set them aside, but kept in his hand one marked urgent. It was from Geoff Robertson, Esther’s boss in Brisbane, asking Bill to phone him at the earliest opportunity.
‘The problem is, without samples from people on the island who’ve had that particular strain of dengue, we won’t know if it is the source,’ Geoff said, after explaining what he wanted done. ‘I could send someone from here to take the samples, and ask the locals who’ve had it about how it progressed in their cases, but it would be much better if you and Esther, who’ve seen the progression of the Jamestown strain, spoke directly to those people.’
Bill knew he was right. This was why the CDC sent doctors to the scene of outbreaks, because epidemiology was about more than mapping an outbreak. It was about seeing the effect of it first-hand and talking to people who had suffered.
‘I can arrange for a small plane to fly you out of Jamestown tomorrow morning at first light. It’s a seventy-minute flight, so you can get up there, talk to the locals, take some blood samples and be back in Jamestown in time for dinner.’
Bill wanted to protest—he had a hospital to run, a daughter to care for—but he knew Geoff was right. It was a job that needed doing, and the hospital would survive without him, while Chloe would be well cared for in the crèche. But flying in a small plane with Esther would probably be worse than living in an apartment with her…
‘I’ll have to talk to my CEO here,’ Bill told Geoff. ‘I suppose, if I can’t get away, Esther could go on her own.’
Weak, Bill, and Geoff obviously knew it, insisting it would be far better if they both went.
‘She’s good,’ he told Bill, ‘but you’ve far more experience in the field.’
So Bill agreed, then, as he began to put plans in place to facilitate the journey—arranging for one of the staff who knew Chloe well from the crèche to stay over at his place so she could take care of the baby in her home, and then organising what they’d need for the blood samples and questioning—he felt a growing excitement.
As if this day away together, just he and Esther, was something special. Actually, it was he and Esther and the pilot and a couple of hundred islanders, but he wasn’t going to let realism get in the way of his dream.