Marion Lennox - Midwives On Call - Stealing The Surgeon's Heart

‘CIRO!’

Harriet’s smile was wide as she pulled open her front door to see him standing there, holding a large brown paper bag. Berating the fact that she didn’t have her robe ready to pull on in case there was a knock at the door and a certain doctor decided to check how she was doing, she’d had to settle for pulling on a pair of shorts and praying that the two triangles of her bikini top kept at least the essential bits covered.

For the last few days Ciro had been playing the part of the dutiful neighbour and doctor to perfection, dropping in each evening to check on her progress, telling her off when, bright red, she’d answered the door having clearly fallen asleep in the sun. As boring as it must have been for Ciro, his visits were fast becoming the highlight of Harriet’s day! Late springtime at Coogee Beach was arguably the best place in the world for some serious recuperation of the soul, but there was only so much introspection Harriet could stomach, and any diversion, especially one as stunning as Ciro, was rather gratefully received.

‘I wasn’t sure if you were home.’ Ciro gestured to the dark flat. ‘I thought you might need these.’

The open door was clearly enough of an invitation for Ciro and he walked in. Harriet flicked on the light, watching open-mouthed as he proceeded to empty the bag.

‘Red wine, chocolate, a very slushy DVD.’ He held it up for her inspection and then carried on depositing his wares over the bench. ‘More chocolate and a box of tissues.’ He gave a triumphant smile. ‘Now that you are physically on the mend, I figure it’s time to start on the emotional so I’ve bought all the ingredients necessary for a woman who has a heart that is broken.’

‘A broken heart, even!’ Harriet grinned. ‘What makes you such an expert on women?’

‘I have three sisters,’ Ciro groaned. ‘So you can lose the sarcasm. Back home in Spain I do not have much of a first-aid kit in my hacienda, but I have a bag like this packed and ready in my pantry for when one of my sisters drops by unexpectedly or calls for me to come over urgently.’

‘I’m sure you make a lovely agony aunt,’ Harriet said, picturing the scene and heading over to the bench to eye the goodies. ‘Yes, please, to the wine and chocolate and the DVD. Actually, this is one I’ve been meaning to get, but I won’t be needing the tissues.’

‘Harriet, you don’t need to be brave.’

‘I’m not being brave,’ Harriet insisted. ‘I’m doing fine.’

‘Sitting in the dark, feeling sorry for yourself, is not doing fine,’ Ciro pointed out.

‘I was actually sitting on the balcony, watching a glorious sunset,’ Harriet corrected him. ‘And, before you suggest it, my lack of emotion has nothing to do with the fact I don’t have your sisters’ passionate Latin blood running through my veins. The simple matter is, I did all my crying over the end of my relationship long ago.’

‘A week isn’t very long,’ Ciro pointed out.

‘A year is, though.’ She gave a small shrug, then wished she hadn’t. Her tiny bikini was not really geared for shoulder movement and for a moment, so small it was barely there, she felt Ciro’s gaze flick downwards, and about the same time her heart rate soared skywards. She was suddenly acutely aware of her lack of attire, and that she hadn’t had a pert bust since pre-adolescence. Her very exposed breasts were jiggling around to a tune of their own and it would make it even more embarrassing if she suddenly dashed off, dropped the chocolate she had picked up and ran to the bedroom to throw on a T-shirt. Instead, she had to ride out the suddenly uncomfortable conversation, horribly conscious of the fact that, though newly tanned, her stomach could hardly be described as toned. ‘I did all the emotional groundwork months ago. In fact, if I hadn’t found Drew in bed with that woman, I don’t doubt for a moment that I’d be exactly where I am now.’ She registered his frown. ‘I’d decided we were both going to face up to it once I was feeling better, even as I was riding home in the taxi…’ Her voice trailed off. Over it she may be, but that didn’t mean she wanted to relive it just yet.

‘Would you like some wine?’ Ciro offered after a suitably long pause, realising she wasn’t about to elaborate. Probably because his apartment was the same as hers, when she nodded her acceptance, he was able to locate the corkscrew and glasses with ease. ‘Why don’t we try and catch the end of that sunset?’

Grabbing a flimsy wrap from the sofa, Harriet led him onto her balcony, grateful for the spectacular pink sky that surpassed any need for small talk. Watching in amicable silence as the sun dipped lower, listening to the raucous laughter of some teenagers partying on the beach, sipping on her wine, feeling the warmth of the liquid spreading through her, the exquisite shyness of having him so near finally abated enough to allow her to steal a glimpse of his haughty profile.

‘It is very beautiful,’ Ciro said, staring out into the distance. And Harriet murmured her agreement, only she wasn’t talking about the sunset. ‘Sydney really is very beautiful.’

‘It is,’ Harriet agreed, because with the stars so low you could almost touch them, with the sound of laughter and scents of garlic and herbs winging their way up from the bars and cafés along the foreshore, it would, quite simply, be impossible not to. ‘I didn’t think so at first, though,’ Harriet admitted. ‘I wasn’t looking forward to moving here at all.’

‘How long have you been here?’

‘Six months.’ She took a sip of her wine before continuing. ‘Six months has been about par for the course for the last few years. Every time I started to feel at home, every time I made a few friends, another role would come up, the next big thing Drew simply had to chase.’ Realising she was running the risk of sounding as if she felt sorry for herself, Harriet adopted a more positive note to her voice. ‘It worked, though. I mean, he started off in Perth with mainly walk-on non-talking parts and the occasional advert, then he took a part in Queensland on one of the local children’s shows as co-presenter, which got him noticed.’

‘Where to then?’

‘Melbourne. He got a fairly big part in a soap, and from there he was invited to play the roles he’s doing now, but it meant another move.’

‘And how did you feel about all these moves?’ Ciro asked.

Harriet gave a tight shrug. ‘Nursing’s very portable.’

‘I know that,’ Ciro said patiently, ‘but how did you feel about constantly moving?’

‘Exhausted,’ Harriet admitted. ‘Perhaps the most stupid part of the whole fiasco is that finally we seemed settled, geographically of course. Drew’s career was really taking off. For the first time in our marriage suddenly we weren’t dependent on my wage. I was even thinking about…’ She didn’t finish, shaking her head in the darkness, determined not to get maudlin, determined not to dwell on the could-have-beens that simply weren’t.

But Ciro wasn’t about to be fobbed off.

‘What were you thinking about doing?’

‘It doesn’t matter now,’ Harriet started, but she realised there was nothing maudlin about what she was thinking—in fact, it didn’t even involve Drew. And there was something infinitely patient about Ciro, something so refreshingly open and direct about him that somehow, and not for the first time, she found herself opening up.

‘You know how I told you I spent some time on an adolescent psychiatric unit? Well, it really had a huge impact on me.’

‘Were you thinking of doing psychiatric nursing?’

Harriet shook her head, blushing at her own presumption as she voiced her dreams, wondering what a very senior doctor’s take would be on them. ‘I wanted to study psychology, maybe one day specialise in people like Alyssa.’