The Nurse's Twin Surprise / A Weekend With Her Fake Fiancé. Sue MacKay
fence lining the front lawn to stare across the public green space on the other side of a wide walking path to the Tasman Sea beyond. The light breeze meant no windsurfers doing their number on the waves. Which was a shame because right now he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do than get up on a board—and no doubt fall off just as quickly, since it had been a while since he’d last surfed. At least that would occupy his mind and put these damned fool ideas to bed.
Bed? Nathan groaned. He was exhausted, and needed sleep more than anything before signing on again that night. More than thinking about Molly.
But the idea of sprawling over his couch in front of the television and trying to doze off turned his blood to thick soup. There’d be no sleep while she rampaged through his mind. The hell of it was he didn’t know why she was doing this to him when up until today he’d been more likely to get annoyed with her and wish she’d pester someone else. Sure, he was annoyed with her right now, but for all the wrong reasons. So much for getting her to put that cold shoulder to rest. Instead she’d been winding him up tighter than ever. At least she didn’t have a clue how badly she was rattling his cage.
You sure about that?
Good question. He’d been determined not to let her see his reactions to her, to the scent of limes from her fruit basket, to relaxing and laughing in her company.
Yeah, and what was that doubt in her face when she’d picked up her phone and seen no ID displayed? Because something had darkened her eyes and tightened her face. Certainly more reaction than called for by someone wanting to ask why she hadn’t paid the power bill or had she forgotten she was meant to be at the dentist. One thing he knew for certain—she’d never tell him.
The apartment had been a shock. ‘Poky’ had the place sounding larger than it was. It was tastefully decorated, though. Was that Molly’s taste? Or had she rented the place fully furnished? The late morning sun had shone through the large, sparkling windows to brighten the atmosphere. The place was spotless, her few possessions gleamed. The two mugs on the shelf, the two glasses and dinner plates, said lonely.
Turning back towards his house, Nathan hesitated. Molly had mentioned maybe looking for somewhere else to live with more space, a place that was connected to the outside world. There was a twist to her story. Maybe she came from a tight community and was missing that easy friendship with all the neighbours, except she didn’t like the way the old woman had told him which apartment was hers. He looked left, right and back to his house. He knew his neighbours. While they didn’t live in each other’s pockets, they were there for each other if the need arose.
Don’t even think it.
This place was further from work than her apartment, which meant a bus or car to the train station.
He strode towards the back, stopped and studied his house. Slowly that familiar sense of belonging, of having found his new place in the world right here, rose, pushing other annoying emotions aside. With each front room opening out onto the veranda that ran the full width of the house with an overhanging roof, it was a haven in summer and winter.
He’d said, ‘I’m buying it,’ the moment the real estate salesman had pulled up outside. An impulsive purchase, made two years after Rosie’s death, yet nothing had caused him to regret his decision. At the time he’d been stuck in the past, so he’d gone looking for a new home that didn’t echo with Rosie’s laughter.
Coogee might be a little way out of the city for travelling to work, but the vista at the end of his lawn cancelled out any annoyance about that. He’d weathered storms that had wrecked the cliffs, baked in unrelenting sun, and surfed the waves, and had finally known a quiet within himself that had been missing for far too long. The large house and sprawling, uncontained grounds were his sanctuary.
It couldn’t be more different from the small, cosy, modern home he and Rosie had shared. That one had been like her; everything had had its place and the colour schemes had been perfect, the neat gardens with their carefully spaced plants drawing passers-by to lean over the fence in admiration. While this place—it was more like him. Out of sync.
No. Molly doesn’t need something like this.
He didn’t need Molly in his space. It wouldn’t remain a tranquil place to go when the world got on top of him if temptation came to live in the attached flat.
Occasionally he had tenants for short periods, usually medical personnel moving to Sydney General from out of town who needed temporary accommodation while they got somewhere more permanent sorted. He liked it when people moved in, and he was equally happy when they left again. Easy come, easy go. It was a waste having the flat going empty, and occasionally he’d thought of asking around work to see if anyone wanted to rent it permanently, but then he’d got cold feet. What if they didn’t get on? Or if the noise level increased? Or if he plain wanted his whole house to himself?
The flat’s more spacious than Molly’s apartment.
Molly wouldn’t be noisy or intrusive. They did argue quite often. But today he’d learned they could get along just fine.
But he’d find it very difficult to ask her to leave if the day came where he wanted to be alone.
Far safer for him to leave things as they stood.
‘YOU ALL RIGHT?’ Nathan asked from the other side of the counter in the department’s central hub where Molly was supposed to be writing up patient notes. Her head was so messed up with this new awareness of Nathan and wondering what he was doing that she hadn’t seen him approaching.
‘Couldn’t be better,’ she lied. ‘I managed some sleep after my run.’ It was true, though her kip had been filled with dreams of being held in Nathan’s arms while she drove his car. Why were dreams so ridiculous? On all counts? ‘What about you?’
He grimaced. ‘I managed an hour before going to the airport, and then a couple more after an early dinner.’
That explained the shadows beneath his eyes. ‘It goes with the territory.’ Night shifts played havoc with sleep patterns.
‘At least next week I’m on three to eleven. Back to…’ he flicked his fingers in the air ‘…normal.’
‘Me, too.’ She glanced at the clipboard in his hand. ‘You seeing Colin Montgomery next?’
His thick, brown-blond hair tumbled over his forehead as he nodded. ‘I see he’s got history of arrhythmia and is presenting with palpitations and chest pain.’
Molly followed him to their seventy-one-year-old patient and immediately noted down Colin’s pulse and other obs. ‘Did anyone come with you to the hospital?’
Colin shook his head. ‘I’ve lived alone since my wife died two years ago.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. What about other family?’ There was nothing in the notes about relatives to contact.
He blinked, and his mouth drooped. ‘My son and I haven’t spoken in years. Last I heard he lives somewhere in Brisbane.’
‘How long have you had arrhythmia?’ Nathan read the heart-monitor printout and asked pertinent questions.
‘Twelve months, give or take.’
‘When did the pain start?’
‘Around eleven. When it didn’t ease off I phoned for an ambulance. I hope I’m not wasting everyone’s time. It’s very busy in here.’
‘A typical Friday night,’ Molly assured him.
‘Never think you’re wasting our time. With your known condition, it’s always best we check you out.’ Nathan listened to his chest through a stethoscope. ‘You’re on warfarin. How steady