Earthquake Baby

‘There are plenty of other areas to work.’

‘Nothing that gives me the job satisfaction.’

‘Doesn’t seem too satisfying at the moment.’

‘Oh, Jack. Sure, we get crazy busy and we lose some. But you know what it’s like! Nothing gives me a bigger thrill than seeing a critically ill patient get better and go home. Knowing you’ve been part of that is the best feeling.’

‘You still need to look after yourself. It’s not uncommon for post-traumatic stress to set in years after the initial incident. Maybe a word to Marie—’

‘Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare interfere with my work.’ She glowered at him.

‘Steady, Laura. No need to get upset.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Jack. You’re back in my life for two minutes and you’re interfering already. I think I’m allowed to be a little cross. I’m not a lost, scared twenty-year-old any more. Besides—no one at work knows. I’d like to keep it that way.’

‘It’s amazing you’ve been able to keep it quiet. No one ever recognised you?’

‘Well, I didn’t start here until a couple of years after Newvalley and the hype had died down by then. Plus, most people don’t know that my real name is Mary. I’ve been called by my middle name all my life, but thankfully backpacker hostels check you in as the name on your passport. As far as Australia’s concerned, the girl under the building was Mary Scott, not Laura.’

‘But…you’ve never confided in anyone?’

‘When you have photographers who’ll use every trick in the book to get a picture, it’s hard to know who to trust any more. I’ve had to become a very private person, Jack. When I started here I didn’t want any special treatment or be an item of curiosity. I’ve struggled to keep a low profile. If my past came out, it’d be all around the hospital…the press would find out…’

Jack’s face told her he thought she was exaggerating.

‘It’s true Jack. Every year, my lawyer is still inundated with offers from the media for an interview.’

‘You’re not serious?’

‘Unfortunately, yes. My lawyer thinks I should get an agent.’

‘You could be a rich woman, Laura.’

‘My memories are private and not for sale. Besides, I have to protect…’

‘Protect?’

‘Myself,’ she said rather lamely, thrown by how easily she had almost let the cat out of the bag. ‘And my family and the people I work with. The last thing anybody here needs is a three-ring circus following me around.’

‘Some people would kill for that kind of attention.’

‘Not me.’ She shuddered. ‘Those first few months after…the media camped out on my doorstep. That’s why I moved to Queensland.’

‘I had no idea you were on TV that much.’

‘I wasn’t. I declined all interviews and avoided the vultures like the plague. But it didn’t stop them from trying! Anyway, they finally grew tired of my constant refusals and decided to leave me alone.’

‘It must have been hard to get your life back together with that kind of scrutiny.’

‘You can say that again!’

So deeply engrossed in conversation were they that Laura and Jack had not noticed the arrival of other people. Splashing in the water alerted them. Laura checked her watch.

‘Please, think about coming to Newvalley with me.’

‘No, Jack,’ she said firmly.

‘Well, it’s not until next week.’ He smiled and stood beside her. ‘I’ll be seeing you around. You never know, maybe I’ll manage to convince you.’

‘Don’t hold your breath.’ She smiled back. Her lips slackened as she became caught up in his intense stare. ‘What?’

‘Why did you leave that morning, Laura?’

‘Oh, Jack, it was a long time ago. Let’s leave it in the past, where it belongs.’

‘I need to know.’

‘Impatient as always.’

‘What would you know?’ His voice had a hard edge to it now. ‘How do you know what I’m like? You walked out, remember. You never gave it a chance. Me a chance.’

All the old feelings returned in a rush. It was as if he had stepped back ten years into the morning after. The sadness and disappointment at finding her gone felt as real now as it had then.

‘Are you angry with me?’ His outburst had surprised her.

‘I thought we had something going and then you walk out in the middle of the night and I never hear from you ever again. Yes.’ The hard edge remained. ‘I was upset with you.’

‘Well, I didn’t notice you trying to contact me,’ she pointed out, peeved by his tone.

‘I tried. Quite a lot, actually. I rang and you never picked up. I called around and you never answered the door. Eventually I figured you just didn’t want to be found, so I gave up.’

Laura was shocked at his admission. Her phone had rung hot, night and day, from the media. She’d stopped answering it. She’d stopped spending time at her flat, too. She’d never known when a journalist was going to show up. She’d rarely been at home those first couple of months and then she’d moved to Queensland to be nearer her mum and dad.

‘Look, Jack, you picked a really bad day for this. I have a headache, and dredging up the past is only making it worse.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He sighed, taking her hand, instantly contrite. He took a deep breath, trying to rein in his chaotic feelings. That he still felt so strongly surprised him. But looking at her closed expression, he knew now wasn’t the time to push. He had to bide his time on this one. He didn’t want to blow it with her. She would tell him one day. He hoped. He pulled her to him and gently kissed her forehead.

Despite what had just happened, Laura felt a strange awareness creep into her bones. Every part of her body in contact with his became alive at a cellular level. It unsettled her. She stepped back.

‘No doubt I’ll see you about,’ she said as she started to walk away.

‘Count on it,’ he called after her.

‘I won’t change my mind,’ she threw over her shoulder as she let herself out the pool gate.

Jack watched her retreat until the wiggle of her cute behind was no longer visible. Her movements aroused him. It may have been ten years but his body was responding to her as if it had been yesterday. He ached for her physically but there was a deeper ache that had nothing to do with her body.

She’d certainly convinced herself that she’d dealt with the events of that day in Newvalley. But despite her claim that she was over it, he could sense an inner vulnerability. Maybe it took someone like him, who knew her intimately, to see what she couldn’t.

He had a feeling she was a time bomb ready to go off. It was better for her to do that in an appropriate situation, like the service, with him by her side, than have something else trigger it at work or at home. That could be catastrophic for her. Somehow he had to get her to that service.

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT a day! Laura drove to her outer suburban home, not really noticing the route. She went through the motions—stopped at the red lights, went on the green. But she was not concentrating on the mechanics of driving. She was preoccupied with him. Jack Riley. Back in her life again after all this time.

To say it was a shock was a gross understatement. In reality, Laura had known that one day they would meet again. It would be a necessity. There’d come a time when Isaac would want to know his father and she would not deny him that. She had been prepared for that eventuality. But not yet. She hadn’t been prepared for it today.

So, what now? she wondered as she turned the small hatchback into the leafy street that had been her home for the last nine years. Seeing him again had dredged up some intense feelings. Laura felt sure that avoiding him was probably the wisest move…for a while anyway. At least until she figured out whether to tell him about Isaac or not. And how to go about it and… Oh, it all seemed such an insurmountable problem. Too complicated.

It had been simple ten years ago when she had first learned she was pregnant. They’d seen each other only twice and one of those times a building had collapsed on her! They hardly had a relationship at all. Yes, they had a special bond. He had been her rescuer, saving her from certain death and risking his life in the process. They were connected, in a cosmic sort of way, but…a couple? With a future?

They had talked a lot during her rescue. From this she had learned that Jack’s career was his priority. A marvellous opportunity had come his way to study surgery in Adelaide. She remembered the note of barely suppressed excitement in his voice, which even several layers of concrete couldn’t muffle, as he’d confided his dreams to her. She wasn’t going to dash them because they had been irresponsible when making love. She wanted no further sacrifice from him.

Laura knew that it probably wouldn’t have been that difficult to track him down, had she been so inclined. But she had not. How could she have done it to him? She had refused to dump what she was certain would have been very unwelcome news in his lap. Heavens! She didn’t want him to think that the whole experience had unbalanced her, turning her into an obsessed lunatic, stalking him, professing to carry his love child.

No. She had wanted the best for him. She had wanted for him what he’d wanted for himself. She owed him her life. She hadn’t wanted to ask him to give up his. She’d been, in reality, just a one-night stand.

Even so, she’d agonised over her decision. Keeping a child from someone, even one who didn’t want kids, was a huge call. Truthfully, she’d hadn’t been in the best place emotionally at the time to make such a momentous decision. But she’d made it, truly convinced it was in Jack’s best interests.

Laura opened the door, disturbing the quiet within the house. Normally she would have swung by her mother’s and picked Isaac up after work, but he was holidaying with his grandparents. They took him away every year at this time.

Usually they took him for a week to their holiday home at Mooloolaba on the Sunshine Coast. But this year they had decided to splurge and take him to Disneyland. They had gone for two weeks. Two whole weeks!

Laura picked up a photo frame with Isaac’s cheeky, nine-year-old grin smiling back at her. He looked so like his father. Same big, gentle, brown eyes with long lashes. Tall and olive-skinned. His hair closely cropped, courtesy of a number-two blade. Jack would have to be blind not to see the resemblance.

Isaac. He had kept her sane through the rough times. A baby’s needs had to be met regardless of how the mother was feeling. He had been a good distraction. Someone to focus on when coping with the aftermath of Newvalley and the guilt of being the sole survivor seemed too much to bear.

She traced his face with her thumb.

‘Oh, Isaac. What should I do?’ She missed him. She was looking forward to hearing his voice on the phone tonight. But there was a lot of time to kill between now and then. Too much time to dwell on Jack. She had to stay busy, keep her mind off Isaac’s father.

Laura passed the time pulling out weeds while music blasted into her head via earpieces attached to Isaac’s Walkman. She sang along loudly, determined not to let her mind wander.

The job took a few hours to complete and it was nearly dark by the time Laura stepped into the shower. She wished she could wash her problems away as easily as the garden dirt being washed down the drain.

With a couple more hours up her sleeve, Laura headed out for a spot of late-night shopping. She walked back through her door with just enough time to unpack the groceries before ringing America.

Laura had prearranged dates and times to ring her parents and Isaac during their holiday. The price of phone calls from hotel rooms was notoriously expensive and international calls even more so. With her parents footing the bill for Isaac, she felt it was one small thing she could do to help with costs.

‘Hi, Isaac.’

‘Hi, Mum.’

‘How are you?’

‘Great, Mum. Wow! It’s really cool over here.’

‘How’s Disneyland?’

‘Excellent. It’s huge!’

‘Where are Gran and Pop?’

‘They’re in bed still. Something about jet-lag.’

Laura laughed, and it echoed around the empty house. Yep. That was Isaac. Always on the go. Jet-lag didn’t stand a chance with him. But her parents were in their sixties. She tended to forget that when they were both still so active.

He chatted on about their plans for the next few days. Laura soaked it up. He’d been gone for such a short time but she missed him fiercely already.

‘I wish you were here, Mum.’

‘So do I, Isaac. So do I.’

A tear squeezed out from under her closed lids as she swallowed a rising tide of emotion. If only he knew how much she wished she had gone with them. Then today’s unexpected meeting would never have happened. Eventually she and Jack would have run into each other but, with the hospital grapevine the way it was, she’d have known about his existence first and have been more prepared.

‘I’ll get Gran. Bye, Mum.’

‘Goodbye, Isaac,’ she said, amused by his typically abrupt farewell.

‘Hi, darling. How are you?’

Her mother’s soft voice put Laura on shaky ground. ‘Fine,’ said Laura. Why did mothers have the power to reduce you to a helpless dependent child all over again, no matter what your age?

‘What’s the matter?’ Her mother’s voice rose an octave.

She never could fool her mother. Suddenly Laura wished her mum was beside her. She desperately wanted to be hugged and soothed the way only mothers seem to know how.

‘I saw Jack today.’

Silence as wide as the Pacific greeted her statement.

‘Oh.’

‘Yes…oh.’

‘Well, how…? I mean, what did you…? Did you tell him…?’

‘Oh, Mum. It’s a long story but…no, I didn’t tell him about Isaac.’

‘What are you going to do, Laura?’

‘I don’t know, Mum. I don’t know.’

‘Darling, it’s difficult to talk now. Why don’t you wait until we get home next week before you decide anything? We can have a proper talk about it then.’

‘That sounds sensible to me.’

Laura was too tired and mentally exhausted to think about a solution. Her head started to throb again. What she needed was to sleep, but she was too afraid to succumb. She could control her waking thoughts but her sleeping?

She took some tablets for her headache and drank some warm milk in her silent house. Thankfully her exhaustion helped her to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

It was different at Jack’s place. He tossed and turned most of the night. His mind had been alive with thoughts of Laura since meeting her again. Shock, amazement, excitement—he had felt them all. Even the bitterness that still lingered over her desertion. But above all he could not believe the overwhelming urge he had to protect her. It was as strong today as it had been ten years ago.

No, no, no! He shook his head, trying to banish her image from his mind. He reminded himself he didn’t do involvement any more. Once you got too involved, women wanted more. Before you knew it there was talk of wedding bells and kids…that he couldn’t do. Since his marriage break-up and subsequent divorce, Jack had been determined to keep any relationship light and friendly and short.

Anna…he groaned as he thought about his ex-wife and the total mess he’d made of their marriage. Not for the first time he found himself wishing they had never married. He thanked God there had been no children. In fact, the whole issue had been the crux of their marital problems. He could not go through that again.

With his mind so preoccupied with Laura, it was inevitable that the dream would come again. There she lay, trapped, unhurt but unable to get out. She was reaching her hand out to him, her tear-streaked face pleading for his help. He tried to reach for her hand but the more he stretched the further away she became. Her sobs, bordering on hysteria, mocked his attempts to reach her. And then the remaining structure crumpled and…

Jack sat bolt upright in bed. Sweat glistened on his brow and his bare chest. His heart palpated like a galloping stallion and echoed loudly in his ears. He clenched the sheets in his hands and flung himself back on the damp material.

Dawn was breaking through his bedroom window. He sighed and closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep. Maybe he would see her today.

* * *

The next morning Laura sat with Marie and Steve, getting handover from the night shift. They sat at the nurses’ station where a central screen displayed information relayed from the bedside monitors.

Marie wasn’t taking a clinical load today but, as boss, she liked to keep up to date with the patients. Laura was in charge of the shift and Steve would float between the bed spaces, helping wherever he was needed.

Staffing was a major issue for intensive care units as a one-to-one nurse-patient ratio was essential. Critically ill patients could crash in seconds, necessitating the bedside nurse to be there all the time—just in case. This meant meal breaks through to toilet stops had to be covered by another nurse.

‘So,’ said Marie as they finished and rose to start work, ‘what’s the story with you and Jack?’

Even though Laura had been expecting it, she still wasn’t quite ready with an answer. Marie had been a good friend over the years, and it was only natural she would be curious.

‘Not much to tell really. I knew him briefly ten years ago.’ Laura shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

‘Looked a bit more than that. Looked like you knew each other well.’ Marie emphasised the last word, giving it just the right amount of innuendo.

‘If you’re asking me if we had an affair, the answer is no. Prior to yesterday I only knew him for a handful of hours. Probably doesn’t even add up to a whole day.’

OK, so she was being economical with the truth, but one night really didn’t count as an affair. Did it? Let’s be real, she thought, it was a one-night stand. Mindblowingly wonderful but nonetheless…

‘But—’

‘Marie,’ Laura interrupted, smiling to soften her words, ‘I really don’t want to talk about it.’

‘OK, OK.’ She laughed, putting up her hands in surrender. ‘None of my business.’

Laura breathed a sigh of relief to be let off the hook. Maybe now she could get on with her day. She was here to work after all!

Laura went from bed to bed, checking on patients and helping out where required. Mr Reid was her first port of call. She put on a gown and entered the isolation room. Mr Reid had had a bone-marrow transplant two weeks ago and had developed severe complications. In Theatre the previous day they had found a perforated bowel.

Today the tubes and wires running all over the bed seemed to have multiplied. She helped the bedside nurse who was scrubbing up to access the central line to administer another bag of blood.

The two drains that came from his operative site were half-full of blood. Laura looked at his lab results on the bedside computer and noted with concern the upward trend. If they continued to worsen and he went into full-blown kidney failure, dialysis would be the next step. Poor Mr Reid! He really had an uphill battle.

Laura de-gowned and moved on to one of the two postop cardiac bypass patients.

‘How are you feeling, Charlie?’ she asked. Now that his breathing tube had been removed, he could talk.

‘Awful.’ His voice was barely more than a whisper. ‘If I had known I was going to feel this bad, I’d have never gone through with it.’

‘I know you feel that way now,’ Laura said, squeezing his hand, ‘but in a week’s time, when you can actually walk around without getting chest pain or feeling out of breath, you’ll feel differently. I promise.’

Laura wished she had a dollar for every bypass patient that had told her the same thing. It was a huge operation involving the chest being cracked open and the blood being shunted out of the body through an artificial pump. Most patients described it afterwards as feeling like they’d been run over by a truck. But the improvement in their lives was astounding.

Laura saw Dr Jenny Dexter, the intensive care consultant, arrive and head for the tearoom. She checked her watch. It was time for morning rounds.

The only really routine event on the unit was eight a.m. rounds. It was a multi-disciplinary meeting with all specialities represented. Individual patients’ surgical and/or medical teams, as well as those in allied health fields, attended—occupational therapy, physiotherapy, pharmacy, social work. With a full unit, ward rounds often took an hour, sometimes longer.

As team leader, Laura attended. It was Steve’s job to relieve the bedside nurse as each patient was discussed, so they could also contribute information. The medical staff and the nurses worked as a close team on the unit. The doctors relied on the bedside nurses and valued their opinions and judgements. The good doctors, anyway.

Laura was surprised to see Jack enter the room. She knew from nursing handover that one of his patients had been admitted overnight but he didn’t need to be here himself.

She eyed him suspiciously as he smiled and plonked himself in the chair beside her.

‘Don’t you have a registrar?’ she whispered as she leaned in, immediately regretting the impulse. The smell of his aftershave lured her into the past. How could she ever forget how he had smelt the day they had made love? The mix of aftershave and pheromones had created an intoxicating aroma.

He looked at her and winked. Jenny called for quiet. Laura blinked, snapping back to the present. For heaven’s sake! It had been ten years. You’d think the man would have changed his brand of aftershave!

‘Right, as you’re here first, Jack, we might as well discuss Simon Adams. He’s your patient, I believe?’ said Jenny.

‘I’ve just taken over his treatment. He’s been clinically depressed since his wife died last year.’

‘Has he expressed a suicidal tendency before?’

‘Initially, yes, but not for some time.’

‘Well, something happened yesterday because his eleven-year-old son found him unconscious with two empty pill bottles beside him,’ said Jenny, indicating for the night registrar to begin her patient review.

Laura watched Jack as he joined in the discussion. He was quite animated when he spoke, using his hands, sitting forward in the chair. Every movement caused his sleeve to brush against her bare arm. It was like a caress and Laura fought the urge to purr.

His voice was just as she remembered it, too. Deep and rumbling. She knew his voice intimately, even more than his body. For hours, as she’d lain trapped, his voice had been her only connection with the outside world. She knew every lilt and nuance. His voice had kept her from the brink of despair.

‘How much longer does he need to be here?’ asked Jack as Laura got back on track with the round.

‘Because of the potential for cardiac toxicity and lethal arrhythmia, we’ll need to keep him for another twenty-four hours. He should be over the worst of the effects by then.’

‘Right, well, I’ll go and talk to him now and if you can discharge him to the psych unit tomorrow, we can follow him up properly. I may need to section him if he doesn’t voluntarily agree to stay. I hope it doesn’t come to that.’

There was a general murmur of agreement and they moved on to the next patient.

‘See you outside,’ Jack whispered in Laura’s ear, and then excused himself.

She took a sip of her hot tea as his aroma invaded her personal space again. She grimaced as the delicate mucous membranes of her mouth protested the temperature of the hot beverage. The discomfort gave her something else to concentrate on.

By the end of the round Laura had noted down three discharges. She emerged from the tearoom organising in her head what would be required and trying to factor in teabreaks and not think about Jack and his aftershave. Thankfully, he appeared to have left.

She noticed a young boy standing beside Simon Adams’s bed. It must be his son. Poor boy! He didn’t look much older than Isaac. How terrible to find your father like that.