THEY’D BEEN WALKING in silence for a long time, now.
Thomas stole a sideways glance at Rebecca. What was she thinking about?
What had they been talking about?
Oh, yeah, where they were living.
She was still in that house they’d chosen together. Had he imagined it or did she still remember the way they’d celebrated when they’d picked up the keys and had finally been alone together in their first, real home? The idea that he’d caught a glimpse of that memory in her eyes when their gazes had touched might have been purely projection but even if she had forgotten that particular night, there was no way she could escape all the other memories.
He couldn’t begin to imagine being able to have done that himself. How could you escape from memories that made you feel as if your heart was being ripped out of your chest when they were all around you? When even the walls had soaked up the sounds of a newborn baby’s cry and an infant’s laughter and the first words of a toddler?
It was just as incomprehensible as choosing to take your career into an area that held memories that were still too raw to go near. To actually take a child into an operating theatre to harvest organs when you knew the kind of grief the parents were experiencing had to mean you could shut yourself away completely.
To stop caring to the extent that it was possible to think of those organs as ‘spare parts’?
Thomas could feel the muscles in his jaw tensing so much they made his teeth ache.
No wonder their marriage had failed.
Maybe they’d never really understood each other.
Their route had taken them right through Regent’s Park now and they were walking past the perimeter of London Zoo. A screech of some excited animal could be heard—an orangutan, perhaps? Thomas hadn’t been near a zoo for five years and he wasn’t comfortable being this close. There were memories everywhere, here. A lazy Sunday afternoon, pushing Gwen’s stroller down the paths and stopping to try and capture her expressions when she saw the animals and birds. The penguins had been her absolute favourite and she’d shrieked with laughter every time they waddled close to the fence.
They’d bought a stuffed toy penguin in the zoo shop that had been almost as big as she was but it had to be tucked into bed with her that night. And she’d fallen asleep, still smiling...
Thomas waited for the jolt of pain that always came with memories like that. He could feel his muscles tense and his face scrunch into a scowl, as if that would somehow protect him.
Rebecca seemed oblivious. She was heading for the other side of Prince Albert Road, clearly intent on getting to Primrose Hill and that was good. The further away from the zoo they got, the better. He wouldn’t have to mentally swat away more memories.
Like the way Rebecca’s face would light up with pleasure when they watched the otters which were her absolute favourite.
Or that photograph that someone had offered to take of them as a family, beside the huge, bronze statue of the gorilla just inside the entrance to the zoo. He’d been holding Gwen with one arm and had his other arm around Rebecca. Their heads had both been level with his shoulders and he must have said something funny, because they’d both looked up at him as the photo was taken and they were all grinning from ear to ear.
Looking so happy...
His scowl deepened as they reached the entrance to Primrose Hill Park because now they were going past the children’s playground.
For a split second, his gaze caught Rebecca’s as they glanced at each other at precisely the same moment. He knew they were both thinking the same thing—that the last time they’d been to this playground, they’d been with their daughter.
They’d probably both looked away from each other in the same moment, as well.
There were more memories, here. More jolts of pain to be expected.
Except...that first one hadn’t arrived yet.
That was weird. How could he actually have such a clear picture in his head of something like Gwen being tucked up with her toy penguin and not feel the same crippling blast of loss that he’d had the last time his brain had summoned something like that from that private databank of images?
As if he needed to prod the wound to check whether it was possible that it had miraculously started healing, Thomas let himself think about it again. He could see Gwen’s dark curls against the pale pillowcase, her cheek pressed against the fluff of the penguin. He could see the sweep of her dark lashes become still as sleep claimed her and he could see the dimples that came with even the smallest smile.
And yes, he could feel the pang of loss and a wash of sadness but it wasn’t really pain. He could—almost—feel his own lips trying to curl up at the corners.
Instead of relief, this awareness that something had changed brought something far less pleasant with it.
Guilt?
Was he somehow failing Gwen by being less traumatised at being reminded of her loss?
Maybe grappling with a sense of failure was familiar enough to be preferable to something strange and new.
He’d been over this ground often enough in the past few years. How he’d failed Gwen as a father because he hadn’t been able to keep her safe.
How he’d failed Rebecca as a husband because he hadn’t been able to keep their marriage alive.
But how could it have worked when they were such different people? People who had never really understood each other?
‘Do you mind if we stop for a moment?’
‘Not getting puffed, are you? We’re not even at the top of the hill.’ Unbidden, another memory ambushed him. ‘I seem to remember you ran up here the last time we did this. Faster than I managed.’
Rebecca’s face went very still.
She hadn’t forgotten that moment in time, had she?
Their very first date. A walk in the park and the decision to get to the top of the hill to admire the view.
‘Race you!’
‘Last one there is a rotten egg!’
She’d won that race but she’d had to throw herself onto the grass to try and catch her breath. And Thomas had lain down beside her and neither of them had bothered to look at anything more than each other between those lingering kisses. The walk down the hill had been much, much slower. Holding hands and exchanging glances so frequently, as if they needed to confirm that they were both feeling the same way—that they’d found a hand to hold that would get them through the rest of their lives...
Oh, man, this walk together really hadn’t been a very good idea, had it? It was doing his head in. This was all so hard and exactly what he’d been determined to avoid when he’d chosen to come back to Paddington’s.
But Rebecca was staring down the hill, her face still expressionless, seemingly focused on something that had nothing to do with any memories of their first date.
‘I just need to check something.’
‘What?’
‘Um...’ Rebecca’s eyes were narrowed against the glare of the sun as she looked down the slope. ‘We need a flat area for both the pony rides and the bouncy castle...’
Thomas blinked. ‘You’ve lost me.’
‘I’m on the organising committee for a big picnic that’s happening soon. It’s our fourth year and it’s going to get a lot more publicity this year because of Paddington’s being in the spotlight with the threatened closure. We need to make sure there are no glitches, so I’m checking out the plan.’
Something like a chill ran down Thomas’s spine.
‘I saw the poster in the relatives’ room. It’s for transplant patients, yes?’ He could hear the chill in his tone. He didn’t want to start talking about any of this. Except that this was the reason they couldn’t work well together, wasn’t it? And that was why they were here now.
They had to talk about it.
‘Not just the patients. It’s to celebrate everything that’s good about organ donation in the hope of getting people more aware and making it easier to talk about.’ Rebecca’s tone was cautious enough to reveal that she, too, recognised they were approaching the real point of this time together. ‘It’s for the patients and their families, of course, but also for all the people who devote their working lives to making the success stories happen. And...and it’s for the people on the other side, too. Some people have contact with the recipients of their child’s organs and...and even if they don’t, it’s a day where they can celebrate the gift of life they were able to provide.’
Julia had said something about a parent like that but it was in the ‘unthinkable’ basket for Thomas. To see another child that was having fun at some amazing picnic with pony rides and a bouncy castle because they had a part of his daughter?
The chill in his spine held an edge of horror now.
Did Rebecca know a child like that?
He wasn’t going to ask. He didn’t want to know.
Refreshing that smouldering pile that was the anger that had been ignited last week was a preferable route to feeling either so disturbed by unexpected memories or guilty about things he had or hadn’t done in the past.
‘Yes,’ he heard himself saying aloud. ‘I guess you need to drum up a good supply of those spare parts.’
The silence that fell between them was like a solid wall.
Impenetrable.
It stretched out for long enough to take a slow breath. And then another.
They weren’t even looking at each other. They could have been on separate planets.
And then Rebecca spoke.
‘I should never have said that. I’m sorry. It was completely unprofessional. And...and it was cruel.’
‘I couldn’t agree more.’
‘It’s not what I believe,’ she said softly. ‘You know that, Tom.’
It was the first time she’d called him Tom since he’d come back and it touched a place that had been very safely walled off.
Or maybe it was that assumption that he knew her well enough to know that she would never think like that.
And, deep down, he had known that, hadn’t he? It had just been so much easier to think otherwise. To be angry.
‘So, why did you say it, then?’
‘You’ve been so distant ever since you came back. So cut off. I don’t even recognise you any more.’ There was a hitch in Rebecca’s voice that went straight to that place that calling him ‘Tom’ had accessed. ‘I guess I wanted to know if the man I married still exists.’
His words were a little less of a snap this time.
‘I haven’t changed.’
‘Yes, you have.’ He could feel Rebecca looking at him but he didn’t turn his head. ‘Something like what we went through changes everyone. But you...you disappeared. You just...ran away.’
There was that accusation again. That he was a coward.
The reminder of how little she understood came with a wave of weariness. Thomas wanted this over with. He wanted to put this all behind them effectively enough to be able to work together.
He wanted...peace.
So he took another deep breath and he turned his head to meet Rebecca’s gaze.
‘Everyone processes grief differently. You should know as well as anybody that it’s not a good idea to make assumptions.’
‘But that’s the problem,’ Rebecca whispered. ‘It always was.’
‘What?’
‘That you didn’t process it. You shut yourself away. Emotionally and then physically. You left me. You left Paddington’s.’
That was unfair.
‘I didn’t leave you. It was you who asked for the divorce.’
‘You did leave me.’ Rebecca’s eyes were bright enough to suggest gathering tears. ‘You started walking away the day Gwen died and I felt more and more alone until the idea of staying in our marriage was worse than escaping.’
Thomas was silent. He had a horrible feeling that those words were going to haunt him from now on and that they would be harder to deal with than an accusation of cowardice.
‘You don’t even want to talk to me any more. You’ve been here for months now and you’ve avoided anything that doesn’t have something to do with a patient. You can’t even ask whether I’ve had a good day, let alone talk about something like the Teddy Bears’ Picnic. And...’ Rebecca was clearly struggling to hold back her tears now. She sniffed inelegantly. ‘And you never smile. And you call me Rebecca. Or Dr Scott. Like I’m...a complete stranger.’
Thomas closed his eyes for a moment. It was true. He’d created as much distance as he could to try and make their first meeting easier and he’d kept it up. For months...
‘I... I’m sorry.’
Rebecca nodded. She sniffed again and then scrubbed at her nose with the back of her hand.
‘Excuse me. I don’t have a hanky,’ she said.
‘Neither do I.’ Thomas wished he did. Offering one could have been an olive branch. And they needed an olive branch.
‘You’re right,’ he said slowly. ‘I have been distant. I knew it was going to be hard working with children again. I thought I’d be making it a whole lot harder if I spent time with you, as well.’
‘You don’t have to spend time with me to be friendly. Just a smile would do. Or saying something friendly that made me feel like a person and not just a surgical consult.’
Thomas nodded. ‘I could do that. Something like “Have you had a good day?”’
It was Rebecca’s turn to nod. But then her breath escaped in a huff of sound that was more like a sob. ‘Actually, I’ve had a horrible day. Ever since you glared at me for being late for the meeting this morning and everybody was reminded of how much you hate working with me.’
‘I don’t hate working with you. You’re the best surgeon I have available. I think...your skills are amazing.’
‘But you’d rather it was someone else with my skills.’
‘You probably found it easier to work with the cardiologist I replaced.’
She shook her head this time. ‘Not professionally. You’re the best, too.’
‘But personally,’ Thomas persisted, ‘you don’t find it any easier than I do.’
‘Only because you hate me.’
Thomas sighed. ‘Oh, Becca... I could never hate you.’
The short version of her name had slipped out, as Thomas turned to look at her directly, so he could see the effect it had. Her face became very still but something in her eyes changed. Became softer. Like a smile that didn’t reach her lips.
And something softened inside Thomas, too.
‘Come here,’ he said gruffly. ‘Friends can have a hug, can’t they?’