Ryan smiled, but his smile was perfunctory. ‘I could, though,’ he said. ‘I told you when I put your knee back, Abbey. My specialty’s orthopaedics.’
More silence.
‘Oh, yes?’ Abbey said finally, and her voice was faintly mocking. This was cruel. ‘Maybe you could. If we had the equipment. If we had an anaesthetist and back-up staff. If you were registered to work here. If pigs flew!’
‘Registered…’ Ryan centred on only one objection. ‘If I can organise everything else, is registration likely to be a problem?’
‘Well, maybe not,’ Abbey admitted. ‘You’re not Australian trained, but with your Australian citizenship, your training and the fact that we’re a remote hospital… ’
‘Remote?’
‘It’s why I accepted your offer of help this week,’ Abbey explained. ‘Because Sapphire Cove’s categorised as remote, if any doctor is stupid en-I mean, willing enough to work here and their basic overseas training is acceptable, we can get their registration through in a flash.’
‘I see.’ Ryan’s magnetic grin flashed out. ‘So…I’ve just offered to be stupid.’
‘I’m not having any hip operated on,’ Janet broke in harshly. She’d been staring from Abbey to Ryan in confusion. ‘Abbey, this is crazy. Who’d look after Jack if I was in hospital?’
‘If Ryan can organise a few pigs to fly I don’t see why you should object,’ Abbey said promptly. ‘If! But Ryan’s doing my work for me. Didn’t you hear him offer? And Marcia over the road was put off work last week. The resorts always lay off staff during stinger season. Janet, let’s not throw any more obstacles in his way than Ryan already has. He’s offered me his honeymoon and you a new hip. What next?’
What next, indeed?
Ryan sat at the table as Janet and Abbey talked across him, and he felt as if he’d been knocked sideways.
Why on earth had he made that offer?
To do a hip replacement here… in such a place…
It wasn’t that he doubted his ability to organise it. Routine procedures such as hip replacements were now left to those working under him and there were favours he could call in to get equipment and staff. It was just…
Well, this was his honeymoon, after all. He’d have to beg, borrow or steal equipment from a bigger hospital. Pull in favours from all over the place. It’d take a couple of days to get everything he needed. At a guess, Felicity would arrive just as he’d lined up Theatre.
Felicity would not be happy.
But Abbey was.
Ryan looked over the table and Abbey’s eyes were misting as she looked at her mother-in-law. And then Abbey turned to look at him.
‘If you could organise it, it’d be the best thing…’ she said, and her voice shook.
Ryan’s astonishment at what he’d just offered lifted a little.
He’d eased just a fraction of the load on Abbey’s slight shoulders and for some reason-well, for some reason he suddenly didn’t give a toss what Felicity would say. He had to do it. He felt lighter himself.
And then the phone rang.
One thing Ryan had learned early in medical school was that the most emotional moments of his life-or the most embarrassing-were always punctuated with the phone.
The mobile phone shrilled, and both Abbey and Ryan looked down at their waists.
Abbey grinned and held up her hands.
‘You win,’ she said, as Ryan flipped his phone open.
Then her smile faded as she watched Ryan’s face.
‘Ryan, what is it?’
Ryan was talking harshly into the phone.
‘They’re already bringing him in? OK, I’ll be there as fast as I can.’
And Ryan was on his feet, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. He didn’t even notice that he’d knocked it over.
‘What is it?’ It had to be something awful, Abbey knew. All the colour had drained out of Ryan’s face.
‘It’s my father,’ he said shortly. ‘It sounds like he’s had a heart attack.’
‘Oh, no…’ Janet went white and automatically clutched Jack, as if clutching the baby could ward off catastrophe.
‘Not another one.’ Abbey rose too, grabbing her crutches and shoving them under her arms. ‘Ryan, give me a hand out to the car.’
Ryan stopped dead, and stared back at Abbey. His face had grown suddenly haggard. ‘What do you mean-another? ’
‘He’s had three this year,’ Abbey told him bluntly. ‘He’s running on borrowed time.’
‘But-’
‘Ryan, shut up and move,’ Abbey ordered. She gave Jack a fast pat goodbye. ‘See you later, sweetheart. Mummy has to go back to the hospital. Be good for Gran. Janet, I’ll look after Sam for you, I swear. Don’t worry.’ And Abbey grabbed her crutches and headed for the door.
‘You’re not coming,’ Ryan said automatically, but Abbey was already on her way.
‘Just help me into the damned car,’ she said harshly. ‘I’m not leaving you to look after your own father and, besides, Janet and I love Sam Henry.’
And what Abbey didn’t say-and both of them knew-was that if Sam was in real trouble then Ryan could become next to useless. To be an efficient doctor was an impossibility when the patient was so close.
And if hard decisions had to be made… if life support systems had to be shut down…
Well, Abbey was coming!
Ryan was so shocked he didn’t speak again until they were halfway to the hospital.
When he did he sounded sick.
‘Tell me Dad’s medical history, Abbey.’
With Ryan’s help, Abbey had hauled herself into the back seat again, her leg stretched out before her. Her position hadn’t been achieved without cost. From the hip down, her leg was starting to ache as it had before the morphine, a dull, rhythmic throb.
‘Don’t you know?’ She shifted and winced.
‘I didn’t even know he had a heart problem.’ Ryan swore savagely. ‘So tell me!’
Ryan didn’t know? Abbey shook her head in concern. How much didn’t he know?
‘Well, Sam’s like Janet,’ Abbey said slowly, ‘only it’s more drastic. He desperately needs by-pass surgery but he won’t have it’
‘Why not?’
Abbey shrugged. ‘He says it’s because he doesn’t want to leave the farm. Myself, I think it’s more than that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean he’s a lonely old man with no family,’ Abbey said gently. ‘He’s fond of Janet and Jack and me, but we’re all he has and we’re not enough. I don’t think he wants to live to a ripe old age.’
‘But that’s…’ Ryan shook his head. ‘That’s…’
‘Nonsense?’ Abbey shrugged. ‘Well, I guess you’d know better than I do. You’re his son, after all. But, then, you’re his son and you didn’t even know he had a heart condition.’
‘I write.’ Ryan said explosively. ‘I write every week.’
Abbey screwed up her nose. She knew about those letters. ‘Yes, you do,’ she said gently. ‘I’m sure your concern does you credit.’
‘Abbey…’
‘Why has he had a heart attack now?’ Abbey asked, staring into the middle distance over Ryan’s shoulder. ‘Has he been stressed?’
‘How the hell should I know?’
‘There you are, then.’
‘Damn it, Abbey… ’
Abbey ignored his mounting anger. Someone had to lay the truth before Ryan Henry. A letter once a week… Sam had shown her a few. Proudly. And Abbey had felt sick inside when she’d seen them.
They were formal, punctilious letters, describing Ryan’s career, the weather, the news wherever Ryan happened to be in the world. Always a polite enquiry after his father’s health at the end.