WHILE THE NIGHTS remained filled with sensual delight and sexual satisfaction, the days developed a routine, Steve implanting tiny embryos, Fran freezing those that had developed sufficiently to be used in the future. It was here that she had to be meticulous, showing Arthur how to choose the best ones to freeze, then how to extract all the water from the tiny bunch of cells, replacing it with a special anti-freeze.
Next came freezing, placing the tiny embryo in a straw, cooling them very slowly so no shards of ice formed to pierce the precious cells. Once frozen, the straws went into canes, and with this the embryologist had to be particularly careful with identification. Fran continued using coloured tags within the little containers, further labelling them all with names and numbers corresponding to the various couples.
But even though she was busy with the freezing, she was finding the wait for confirmation of pregnancy very difficult. She knew it was partly because it brought back memories of her own days of waiting, but it seemed worse because she knew and liked these people, had spoken to them, and now dreaded to think how they’d react if they found the IVF cycle they’d been through had failed.
‘Worrying about failure?’ Steve asked, breezing into the lab where she had been watching Arthur do ICSI on Mrs Yellow’s eggs.
‘Do I look worried?’ she snapped, mostly because seeing him unexpectedly like this did terrible things to her heart, and different terrible things to her body.
Her heart was weeping because it knew their time together was nearly over, while her body still wanted to rush him off to bed—or anywhere private—every time she saw him.
‘Yes,’ he said, coming closer and resting his hand on her forearm. ‘Knowing the statistics—that terrible forty percent success rate that’s considered the norm—we’re all entitled to worry. But we never take on patients unless they’ve been through a lot of counselling and they know the odds as well as we do.’
‘I know, I know,’ Fran said. ‘I suppose it’s different because I’ve met them, talked to them. Back in the lab at the hospital in Sydney, I not only didn’t know the couples, but often I didn’t know who’d conceived and who hadn’t. This is too close, I suppose.’
Steve was watching her as she spoke, and guessed there was more to it than she said. She was as uptight as the couples who were waiting for news, possibly more so. And in bed there seemed to be a desperation in her lovemaking, as if she wanted to drown out all thought with passion.
Could he take her away?
Over to Kakuhla?
He did the numbers in his head.
‘What’s worrying you?’
Fran’s voice broke into his calculations.
Aware Alex was in the room with them, he had to phrase his reply carefully.
‘I was thinking, as we’re nearing the end of your visit to the islands, I could show you around a little, maybe take you over to Kakuhla Island, which is beautiful and not too far to travel.’
‘But won’t the Reds be ready for testing about the same time you’re implanting the embryo in the Purples?’
He nodded. He might have known she could add up as well as he could.
‘I was thinking that I could leave Alex to do the first of the pregnancy testing—after all, the couples involved have no doubt been doing tests themselves. But then I realised I couldn’t—couldn’t let down the couples by not being there should this cycle have been a failure. I want to be the one with them, and to talk to them about options. It’s why we stay a month.’
He brooded on it for a moment, then rather reluctantly added, ‘Although you could go over to the island, or do a few island-hopping trips yourself. Zoe would be happy to show you around.’
Her smile was so bright he was struck by the realisation he loved this woman, so when she said, ‘You’re a good man, Steve Ransome,’ he was filled with happiness.
And knew he had to fight to keep her.
He left the lab, needing to think through this latest development.
Yes, he’d known almost from the start that he’d wanted the relationship to continue when they both returned to Sydney because she was intelligent, good company, understood his work and another dozen reasons, including their compatibility in bed.
But love?
He’d set romance aside after the disaster with Sally. Instead, he’d concentrated on learning all he could about IVF before setting up his own clinic. There’d been women since, but none had been more important than his work, so they’d shared mutual enjoyment and passed on.
But Fran was different.
Fran really was a keeper!
But how to convince her that they were meant to be together?
Did she not love him?
That was certainly a possibility but their lovemaking was no longer ‘fling’ stuff, it had grown into something special, wild at times admittedly but nurturing, caring…
Loving?
He shook his head, going back into the clinic to talk to Alex because thinking about Fran was driving him insane.
Especially when she appeared five minutes later, not having given him time to get her right out of his head.
‘What about the other couple?’ she asked. ‘The ones you said might not be quite ready for egg retrieval. Surely by now they would be?’
Still reeling from the realisation that he was in love with her, Steve couldn’t work out an answer, so Alex took the question.
‘The cycle failed,’ he said quietly, and Steve saw Fran flinch. ‘The eggs failed to develop. Steve and I were discussing it now, thinking we might try IVM on them. Not right away, of course, because the cycle might have caused some special problem, but in a couple of months.’
Fran nodded, although the pain she felt for this couple was almost overwhelming. Her third cycle had ended this way, and that’s when she had been told it would be useless to try again.
Which had seemed only to please Nigel.
She turned to Steve. ‘You’d come back to do it?’
‘Alex and I were talking about that as well. I’ve got a young O and G specialist who’s been working in my clinic for a few months. I’m wondering whether, with his experience and Alex’s, and a good embryologist, they could do it themselves. It’s where we’d always hoped to go, to have people here who could handle the whole process.’
Fran thought about it for a moment.
‘Do the islands have the population numbers to make it viable?’ she asked, and he smiled.
She wished he wouldn’t—it distracted her—so she had to catch up with what he was saying.
‘Probably not, although time will tell. But it wouldn’t have to make a profit and the hospital can use the services of two O and G specialists. The embryologist would be a problem as there wouldn’t be full-time work.’
And suddenly a way opened up and the future became clear.
Steve was setting this up so he could be at home, finding a wife, starting a family, so…
And Andy would know…
Talk to her about it…
Which would be a thousand times worse than her mother’s progress reports on Clarissa’s pregnancy, which, now she came to think of it, no longer bothered her at all!
‘I could stay,’ she said, letting the thought settle about her and feeling how right it was. ‘I don’t need a full-time income, and I already love this place and the people. I could help with counselling too, because I’ve done that with couples who want to know how the whole process works. I’d have to give notice at work, and sort out my apartment, sell or rent, pack up, but I could do it.’
‘That would be wonderful,’ Alex said, ‘because your job is so important to the whole cycle. Arthur is good but he is still learning, and with your experience you could help with advice to me, and the new doctor, should we need it. We could make a wonderful team.’
‘Andy would kill me for taking you away from him,’ Steve said, although his voice seemed strained as if there were other things he’d rather be saying. ‘He went on about it enough when I only wanted to borrow you for four weeks.’
‘Andy has plenty of good people to take my place,’ she told him. ‘I should know, I trained most of them.’
‘Then maybe one of them might like the island life as much as you seem to,’ he said, and she had to smile, although she knew it was a weak effort.
‘I was here first,’ she said firmly, although inside she was quaking, well aware she’d made this decision because it seemed to solve her loving-Steve dilemma. Removed from him by a large ocean, she’d surely get over him one day?
‘Well, if you’re really serious that’s a fantastic offer,’ Steve said bluntly, ‘but I think we’re running before we can walk. Alex and I were still at the talking-about-it stage, and I’ll be back in three or four months anyway so the couple who failed can join that programme. Now, if we’re quite finished here, I’ve got an appointment at the hospital.’
Alex looked rather surprised by this announcement, and as Steve walked out the door, Alex turned to Fran.
‘What’s eating him?’ he asked. ‘I’ve known Steve for years and although I’ve seen him upset when cycles don’t produce pregnancies, and angry when people make mistakes, today he just seems grumpy, and I’d have sworn he was one man who didn’t do grumpy.’
‘Everyone does grumpy,’ Fran told Alex, hoping she didn’t sound similarly bad-tempered.
She left the clinic, going back down to the quarters, feeling thwarted. For a few minutes it had seemed as if she’d been offered a lifeline—a way of getting away from Steve for long enough to get over him—but he’d cut it off.
Although…
She remembered Andy asking her if she’d known Steve, way back when this trip had first been mooted, and she’d told him no, so if they’d both been living in the same city for years and hadn’t run into each other, how likely was it that they would when they got back?
Unless he persisted with this idea that whatever they had could continue in Sydney.
She should tell him.
And have him pity her?
Hadn’t she had enough of that from Nigel’s colleagues’ wives, who had apparently known about her trouble getting pregnant from the start?
Former friends they were now, unable to understand the pain she felt whenever she saw their happy, healthy, children.
Body in automatic mode, she’d pulled food from the refrigerator while these dismal thoughts raced through her head. But looking at it now, the makings of a salad, a wrap to put around it—she didn’t feel hungry. She had nothing to do, so she’d go for a walk—maybe even a run.
* * *
Steve made his way over to the hospital, only too aware there was no reason for him to be going there, although he knew he’d find someone to talk to or something to do.
Not that he’d be much use to anyone, his mind was too full of questions.
First was the revelation that had struck him back at the clinic—the realisation that what he felt for Fran might be love.
Could it be?
His reaction to her offer to stay on here certainly suggested it was. He’d felt physically sick at the thought of not seeing her, not sitting with her over meals, sleeping in the same bed.
His gut was still knotted, while his brain was circling helplessly around her offer.
She wanted to stay here?
Because she’d grown to love the place?
Hardly! She seen two beaches, a restaurant and barely knew the place at all.
Or could it be a way of escape—either from something happening back at home or from him?
She was adamant that their relationship must end when they left the island, so maybe offering to stay on was her way of making sure that it did.
That made the most sense, but wasn’t it a bit drastic? Shifting countries to avoid a relationship?
What of her friends and family?
He was sure she’d mentioned a mother.
It was at this stage he realised just how little he knew about the woman he loved.
There, the word had come out with no hesitation that time, so maybe it was love.
He had to find out, get to know her better, which seemed ridiculous given they’d spent almost every night since she’d arrived together.
He turned and headed back to the little apartment they shared. They’d go to lunch down at the waterfront—there was a lovely seafood restaurant just out of the main town.
But she wasn’t there.
* * *
Fran had walked down through town, listening to the sounds of this strange, exotic place, revelling in the aromas of food and flowers and sea.
She could live here.
Her mother would have a fit at the very idea, but eventually she’d give in and come to visit. After all, these days she loved to travel.
Her mother would meet the local people, realise how special they were, see the beauty of the beaches, and…be convinced it was why her daughter had chosen to live here?
Fran shook her head at the thought.
It wouldn’t have to be for ever. Steve would soon find another woman—there’d be plenty of women who’d love to marry him.
Not that he’d mentioned marriage, but where else would continuing this affair lead?
Regret for what could not be seized her, clutching at her stomach, burning in her lungs.
She wouldn’t cry, she’d used up her life’s allotment of tears years ago.
Realising she’d reached the waterfront, she wandered along to a small café, went in and bought a sandwich, and a pretty fruit drink that tasted more of coconut than anything else she could name. Then she sat on the jetty to have lunch, seagulls swooping in circles above her, waiting for her to drop a crumb.
Looking out over the clear waters of the bay calmed her mind and body to the extent that she realised that, yes, she could live here. Maybe not for ever, but certainly for a year or two…
Though walking back up the hill in the heat of early afternoon made her think maybe not.
Silly really, even considering it all, when there was no certainty that Steve would go ahead with his plan to have a permanent IVF clinic here.
Silly, too, to think he’d pursue her back in Sydney. He was a rational, intelligent man and no doubt once back in the real world he’d totally forget her. She was making mountains out of molehills, as her mother would have said.
‘You do realise why we’re both a bit tetchy,’ Steve greeted her when she finally reached their accommodation and sank down in the shade of the deck.
He was standing leaning back on the railing, the green jungle growth of the garden behind him. ‘It’s because tomorrow’s the first testing day. Reds, and the day after that the Yellows. We mightn’t be consciously thinking about it but those doubts are there, nibbling away at the edges of our minds.’
He flung out his hands as if to say, There, what do you think of that? and Fran had to smile.
In fact, she realised now she usually had to smile when she saw him, even when he was causing chaos in her body.
‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘we’ve done no sightseeing lately.’ A wicked grin flashed across his face as he winked and added, ‘Can’t think why not!’
For someone who didn’t blush she wasn’t doing too badly at it since she’d come to Vanuatu. Fran just hoped he hadn’t noticed, and waited for what was coming.
‘So, this afternoon I’m taking you to the Blue Hole. Swimming costume and shoes that can get wet are the order of the day. The rocks around the water are mostly coral and very rough. It’s fairly shaded but suntan lotion is a good idea. I’m happy to help with that.’
He came towards her as he finished speaking, took her hands and pulled her to her feet, looking deep into her eyes, his eyes saying things she didn’t want to hear.
His arms enfolded her, holding her close, and when she finally relaxed into his arms, she leant against him and longed for this to be her place.
Eventually he moved, easing her away from his body so he could look into her face again.
‘Okay?’ he asked, and she nodded, then headed for her bedroom to get dressed for their outing.
It wasn’t okay, Steve knew, as he too headed for his room to get organised. Her eyes had been shuttered against him, her thoughts and feelings hidden behind a blue-green wall.
* * *
At least the Blue Hole was magical enough to bring a smile to her face, her expressions of delight so genuine his heart began to hope again.
‘It’s actually a series of pools, the last of them opening to the ocean down that narrow end. You can’t see it for the jungle but it means the water is a mix of salt and fresh.
She pulled off her shirt, revealing the pale body he was beginning to know so well, and handed him the sun lotion as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
He smoothed it onto her skin, making sure he covered all of it, wanting to protect her now, thoughts of sex far from his mind.
‘I think I can manage the front,’ she said, smiling at him as she turned and took the bottle from his hands.
Had his hands lingered too long on her smooth, straight back? On the swell of her hips, the narrowness of her waist, the delicate bones of her spine?
He’d been learning her in a different way, although he knew full well he didn’t know her. Not in important ways! Didn’t know much about her past—married and divorced, full stop—or what brought the shadows to her eyes, or what kept her from committing to him when they were back in Sydney.
She finished putting on the lotion and handed him the bottle.
‘For all you’ve got to-die-for olive skin, you should put some on your face.’
And although he knew the fierce heat was gone from the sun, he did it because she’d suggested it.
‘Last in’s a wuss,’ she said, diving neatly into the clear water.
He followed and came up beside her, pleased there were no tourist ships in port and that it was a weekday so they had the pool to themselves.
‘Like it?’ he asked, and was rewarded with a brilliant smile.
‘Love it!’ she said. ‘It’s the rainforest crowding all around it that make it special. And the jungle vines there, like the ones Tarzan swung on, so you can imagine him and Jane splashing around in here.’
She paused then added, ‘Though if you do a “me Tarzan, you Jane” joke I’ll probably hit you.’
It had been on the tip of his tongue but, duly warned, he shut his mouth, diving down to find one of the smooth pebbles that lay among the rougher coral rocks on the bottom of the hole.
He brought one up, pleased it was a pretty one, and handed it to her.
‘A present?’ she said. ‘But it’s lovely!’
Then somehow they were kissing, and soon doing more than kissing, their coming together almost cataclysmic in its intensity, so when he held her afterwards he knew his trembling was matching hers.
‘We must be cold,’ she said, with a pathetic attempt at a smile.
‘We must be,’ he agreed, then stopped further conversation with a long, deep and very satisfying kiss.
Fran eased away and swam, up and down the small part of the pool Steve had chosen, her mind in chaos.
She loved this man and was reasonably sure he might feel the same way about her, but how could she deny him the family he had wanted since he’d been ten years old?
She couldn’t, and that was that.
Neither could she tell him about her failed attempts at IVF. He was such a positive man, there was never a glass half-empty for him. He’d want her to try again, urge her to, but the last failed attempt had almost broken her, and she knew, for certain, another one would do the same.
And then he’d walk away?
She couldn’t blame him, knowing how important children were to him, but she’d had enough men walk away from her, with her father and then Nigel, and she knew just how much it hurt…
But if it succeeded?
Hope flared but common sense reminded her that what Steve wanted—needed—was a family, not another only child.
And she loved him too much to deny him that.
He was swimming beside her now, matching his strokes to hers.
Perfectly!
She stopped, feeling for the bottom, feeling also the pebble he’d given her pressed against her flesh in the bikini top.
And when he stopped, it was her turn to reach for him, to hold him in a close embrace and kiss him.
She had just one more week of kisses and she intended making the most of them.