Sydney Harbour Hospital: Ava's Re-Awakening

No, they just shared the same brief nod and greeting.

Grief recognising grief perhaps.

Respecting it.

Avoiding it.

‘I can’t believe we’re going to have to go through all this again.’ Evie broke into her thoughts. ‘I really don’t think he’ll consent to surgery a second time.’

‘Why did they cancel the operation?’ Ava asked. ‘I thought they had everyone on board, it’s been planned for weeks.’

‘This piece of equipment they need,’ Evie explained, ‘they’re having trouble calibrating it. There’s a technician coming over from America so it looks like it will be another week before the surgery can go ahead. They just can’t risk even a single mistake.’

‘What did he say when they told him?’

‘Not much—a few choice words and then he took out his drip, put on his suit, told me where to go, and not very nicely either, and now he’s back at work—he’s doing a ward round as we speak, no doubt chewing out everybody in his path. Ava …’ Evie’s eyes were anguished ‘… the thing is, with Finn and I, I know it’s very on-and-off, I know how appalling he can be, but in the last few days we’ve been close. Last night we …’ She let out a startled half-laugh. ‘I can’t believe I’m discussing this.’

‘You won’t make me blush,’ Ava said.

‘We had a really nice night.’ Evie was awkward. ‘I mean, it was really intimate, amazing. It wasn’t just sex, it was so tender, we were so close.’ Ava said nothing, reminded herself she was thinking as a friend, not a therapist, and she let Evie continue. ‘And now, just like that, he’s told me to get out, that he doesn’t want me around.’

‘Give him some time,’ Ava said. ‘He would have been building himself up for this surgery, and to have it cancelled at the last minute—’

‘But cancellations happen all the time and you don’t see couples breaking up over it,’ Evie interrupted. ‘He said that now he knows a bit how the patients feel when we cancel them at the last minute.’

‘Ooh, are we going to get a new, compassionate Finn?’ Ava was pleased to see Evie smile. A cheerful person, Ava found that a little dose of humour helped in most situations.

Most, not all.

‘Finn compassionate?’ Evie rolled her eyes, and then sat quietly as she finished her drink. Ava sat in silence too, a comfortable silence that was perhaps needed by Evie before she headed back out there, but after a moment or two in their own worlds it was time to resume appearances, to play their parts. Evie drained her drink and stood. ‘Thanks so much, Ava.’

‘Any time,’ Ava said.

‘Oh.’ Evie suddenly remembered. ‘That gorgeous husband of yours comes back today, doesn’t he?’

‘This morning.’ Ava nodded. ‘He’s heading straight in to work. That’s James.’

‘Well, you can see him tonight,’ Evie said. ‘He’s the luckiest guy in the world, isn’t he? Married to a sex therapist …’

Ava grinned. ‘Again, I’d be patronising you if I laughed, if you had any idea of the amount of times I hear that each day …’

She was sick of hearing it.

So too must James be.

The assumption that they must have most amazing sex life and wonderful relationship was a pressure in itself. As if people thought her job followed her home, as if the smiling, cheerful, practical Ava, who was open to discuss everything, who managed to deal with the most sensitive subjects with barely a blink, translated to the Ava at home.

Finn would never say such a thing, Ava thought as she saw Evie out.

Or maybe he would, she mused—nervous, embarrassed, new to a wheelchair, maybe Finn would crack the same old jokes if she offered her help.

She stood alone in her office and looked out the window at the glittering view and wondered if she could stand to leave it, not so much the view but her work here. She didn’t want to start over at another hospital or open a private practice. Because SHH was so cutting-edge she got the patients in her office that she was most interested in helping. It was no doubt the same reason James would remain here, but how hard would it be to work in the same hospital, to see your ex-husband most days?

Ex-husband.

There, she’d said it and she didn’t like how it sounded.

More than that, she didn’t want to be James’s ex-wife.

CHAPTER TWO

‘LOVELY flowers.’ Elise was a bit flustered but George was friendlier this time. ‘From your husband?’

‘They are.’ Ava smiled. ‘Come in, take a seat.’

She had been seeing them for a few months now. For George and Elise it was a complicated process and not as simple as writing a prescription. George had been in an accident at work last year, an appalling accident where he’d seen a colleague die. It wasn’t just George’s physical injuries that had caused him pain. Over and over he had relived the moment of the accident and the depression and anxiety had been all-engulfing. He’d seen his GP but the medication for the depression had affected his libido, which had increased his anxiety, and by the time they had arrived at Ava’s, the pair had all but given up, not just on their sex life but on themselves.

She was seeing them monthly as a couple and George was also having one-on-one counselling with Ava, but more about the accident and the flashbacks he was getting and his appalling guilt that the colleague who had died had been so much younger than him.

‘How have you two been?’ Ava asked.

‘We’re doing fine,’ George said, handing over a folder. ‘I’ve done my homework.’

Ava grinned and checked off their sheets. Her methods were a bit flaky at times, and with some couples she made things a bit more fun. With George and Elise she had them playing Scrabble, taking walks, doing little quizzes to find out more about each other, just little things, and she looked through the sheets.

‘Elise?’ She saw the woman’s worried expression as she handed over a folder. She looked as if she was about to start to cry. ‘Elise, the homework’s for fun …’

‘It’s not that.’ She was really flustered, Ava realised. ‘You know you said we weren’t to …’ She could hardly say it.

‘I suggested that you didn’t try to have sex.’

To take the pressure off George Ava had suggested a sex ban, kissing and holding hands only—which apparently they hadn’t done for decades.

‘Oh, we haven’t,’ Elise assured her.

‘Okay.’

‘We did get a bit carried away, though,’ George admitted.

Quite a bit carried away, it turned out! By the time their hour was up, they were all smiling. ‘I’ll see you again next month and, George, you in two weeks,’ she said to the couple. ‘And follow the rules this time.’

She grinned at her own success. Okay, they had a long way to go, but they were both determined to get there, and with a couple as lovely as them, they would, Ava was quite sure.

‘Ava?’ She heard a knock at the same time she heard her name, Elise and George had left the door open. She felt her stomach tighten at the sound of her husband’s voice, and she turned round.

‘James.’ There he stood, tall, strong, gorgeous and different. His light brown hair, which usually fell rumpled and messy, now had a modern cut, and usually his chin was crying out for a razor, but he was clean-shaven today. Generally James wore jeans and a T-shirt or jumper, depending on the season. His patients, he’d explain, had more on their minds than whether or not the doctor was wearing a suit—but now and then he donned one and when he did, he quite simply took her breath away.

He wasn’t wearing a suit today but, dressed in grey linen trousers and a black fitted shirt, he was a mixture between the two versions of James she adored and it almost killed her to see it. James never bought himself new clothes; they simply didn’t interest him. Her heart stopped in her chest for a moment, seeing him in new attire, wondering who had bought them for him, or who James had bought them to impress. She had a horrible glimpse into her future if they both worked at SHH, watching the man she loved and knew so well change before her eyes.

‘You’ve lost weight,’ she said, because he had. He was a big man, and had never been that overweight, but he’d lost a lot and now stood broad, lean and toned.

‘A bit.’ He shrugged.

‘How was your flight?’ How stilted and formal she sounded when really she wanted to run to him, to rest her head on his chest, to welcome him home, to say how much she had missed him, except she greeted him like a colleague and clearly it was noticed, because he didn’t even answer the question, just shot her a slightly incredulous look that that was all she had to say after his three months away.

‘I’ll see you tonight,’ James said instead, and then as he turned to go, he stopped. ‘Ava, we need to talk.’

He’d been saying that for months—no, years—as more and more she’d shut him out, only this time it was a different conversation to be had. ‘I know we do.’

‘I’ll speak to you tonight.’ He didn’t come over and kiss her, he just turned and walked away and headed out to work, to involve himself in his patients. Only it wasn’t his familiar scent that lingered. Instead she smelt cologne. Ava wished she had patients scheduled this morning, that she could think about someone else’s problems instead of her own.

Instead, she was giving a lecture.

She had her little case packed, filled with aids that would make the student nurses laugh at first, but she would push through it, hoping to get her message across, hoping that one day in the future her words would be recalled and a sensitive, informed word might be had by one of them to a patient, that there was help available.

Except she felt a fraud as she stood there, this cheerful, laughing, sexual dysfunction specialist married to the gorgeous James.

She couldn’t remember the last time that they had slept together and wasn’t stupid enough to think in the three months he’d been away, in the years they’d been away from each other physically, that James wouldn’t have seen someone else.

Someone he liked enough to lose weight for, to tone up for, to buy new clothes for and splash on cologne for—it wasn’t the James she knew. She knew that she’d lost him long ago.

Lost them.

CHAPTER THREE

‘LOOK at you!’

The reception that greeted him as he walked onto the unit for the first time in three months was far more friendly and receptive than Ava’s had been.

‘Where did you disappear to?’ Carla, the unit manager on the day ward, asked.

‘Brisbane,’ James said.

‘She meant this.’ Harriet gave a friendly sort of pat to his stomach as she walked past and, yes, he’d forgotten that Harriet had been getting a bit too friendly before he’d gone away.

‘Ava’s got herself a whole new man,’ Carla said, and winked at him, and he grinned back, because Carla would soon have a word if needed. ‘Bet she’s delighted to have you back.’

‘She is,’ James said, and as Harriet pulled on her gloves he watched her cheeks flood with colour as he made things clear. ‘And I’m really glad to be back—I’ve just been up to see her.’

He’d read through files and results and it really was good to be back—at least on the unit. He tried not to think about Ava’s lukewarm—or, rather, stone-cold—reception. A long breath came out of his nose as he tried not to think about it but, hell, he’d thought she might be at the airport, he’d even emailed his flight times as a prompt, and then when she hadn’t been he had stopped by the flat, just in case she’d taken the morning off, but of course she was at work.

‘We’ve a new patient this morning.’ Carla handed him a file. ‘Richard Edwards. He was supposed to be in on Friday for his first round of chemotherapy but he cancelled. I wondered if you could have a word with him as he’s ever so anxious. Wouldn’t be surprised if he refuses again.’

‘Sure.’ James read through the file and his colleague Blake’s meticulous notes. Richard was nineteen and had been recently diagnosed with testicular cancer. He was stage one and all his markers were good, but after discussion with Blake he had decided to go ahead with chemotherapy, though he was clearly wavering on that decision now.

‘Where is he?’

‘He’s in the coffee room. Do you want me to bring him through to your office?’

‘I’ll find him.’

James headed down to the patients’ and relatives’ coffee room and met with the young man and his worried parents. ‘I’ll have a chat with Richard …’

‘We’ll come,’ his anxious parents said, but James shook his head.

‘I’ll speak with you all shortly, but first I’d like to speak with Richard himself.’

‘He gets overwhelmed—’

‘I’m sure he does,’ James said. ‘That’s why I’ll go through everything again afterwards.’

‘Thanks for that,’ Richard said as they took a seat in James’s office. ‘They’ve been great and everything, but …’ He struggled to finish his sentence and James tried for him.

‘They’re not the ones going through it?’

Richard nodded. ‘They don’t understand why I wouldn’t want the chemotherapy if it gives you more chance that it won’t come back. Blake seemed to think it was the better option, but he did speak about waiting and watching,’ Richard said. ‘I’ve just started a new job, I’ve got a new girlfriend and she’s been great and everything, but I just can’t imagine …’ He closed his eyes for a moment and James didn’t interrupt. ‘I always look after myself. I’m a vegetarian. I just think I might be able to take care of this myself. I’ve been looking into things …’

‘It’s called watchful waiting,’ James said. ‘There’s no evidence your cancer has spread so if you adopt that approach then you’ll come back regularly for tests—and if it does come back the treatment is still there for you. Some people prefer that, whereas others find it far more stressful and just want the treatment straight away.’ He spent time with Richard, going through everything, giving him pointers to do his own research, and it was good to be back at work with real patients. He liked informing his patients, liked them informed, and Richard was. He didn’t, at this stage, want to go ahead with the treatment, but as they wound up the discussion, along came the question, the one he was asked so many times. ‘What would you do if it was you?’ There were variations to the question, of course—if it was your wife, your mother, your daughter, your son. So often James was asked what he would do in their place, and normally he answered it easily, but maybe he was out of practice, because he hesitated a moment before answering.

‘What you’re doing,’ James said. ‘I’d weigh up my options. Do you want to make another appointment so we can talk again in a couple of weeks?

‘That would be great,’ Richard said. ‘Will you speak with my parents?’

‘Sure.’

It didn’t go down very well, but James took his time with them too, assuring them that it was a valid option, that Richard wasn’t closing any doors—and sometimes, James thought as he headed back to the treatment area, it was the relatives who had the hardest time dealing with things.

‘No go?’ Carla asked.

‘Not at this stage,’ James said. ‘I’ve given him some decent sites to look at and some reading material.’

As he wrote in Richard’s notes James could fully understand Richard’s decision. He was fortunate that he did have options, and chemotherapy wasn’t a decision to be made lightly, or pressured into. He looked through the glass screen at the patients in for treatment this morning and recognised a couple of them.

There was Georgia, back to do battle again, her headphones on. She gave him a smile as she caught him looking over and James returned it, and then he let her be because she closed her eyes and went back to the affirmations she played through the headphones each time her treatment was delivered. Then he looked over at Heath, who didn’t look over or up. He was still too busy controlling the world from his laptop, still insisting the world wouldn’t survive without him for a couple of days …

It just might have to, though.

James must have dropped his suitcase off on his way to the hospital because when Ava walked into the apartment, laden with bags, there it was in the lounge.

She could smell that blasted cologne in the air, just a trace that lingered, and she opened a window to let in some fresh air. They had a two-bedroom apartment at Kirribilli Views. It was the perfect place for a young professional couple and several other medical staff from the hospital lived there. One of the bedrooms was used as James’s study. Many times while he had been away Ava had found herself in there and she found herself in there now. It was always messy. James had forbidden her from tidying it, insisting he knew where everything was. There was their wedding photo on the desk and Ava couldn’t help but think how young and happy they looked. She wandered into their bedroom—well, for the last year or so it had been her bedroom. She kept her home far neater than she kept her office, though it was hard to keep anything tidy with James around, even though they had Gladys, the cleaner, coming once a week. Really, for the last three months Gladys must’ve thought herself on holiday—well, she’d get a shock when she came in this week now that James was back.

She wandered into their en suite. Gladys would have a fit when she saw it, because for the last three months it had been spotless. Ava routinely wiped down the shower after use and folded towels and put them back. James left his clothes where they dropped and his towels too. Funny, that even though he slept on the sofa, he always used the en suite. There was a small bathroom in the hallway, a guest bathroom, and James probably didn’t want to be a guest in his own home.

God, she was nervous, and she jumped when her phone bleeped a text from James telling her he’d be home about seven.

Well, he wasn’t exactly racing home his first night back.

So she put the shopping away and marinated some chicken and tried to tell herself it was ridiculous to feel so nervous. It was just James coming home.

‘Sorry about that.’ She jumped as she heard James’s key in the door. ‘I dropped into Mum’s.’ He was balancing containers of food from Veronica, who seemed to think he needed rations to fortify him. He gave her a kiss but he was still holding the containers, so it was rather hit-and-miss.

‘No problem.’ Ava was used to him being late, so she didn’t put the vegetable steamer on till she heard him come through the door. ‘Dinner won’t be long.’ It felt strange to be cooking for two again. The last three months she’d been eating mainly frozen meals, healthy ones, though, and with extra steamed vegetables, and she’d taken up exercising again and lost a little bit of weight too. Still, cooking for two really meant cooking for two in this house. James liked jacket potatoes and butter with everything and he hated steamed vegetables, which were what Ava liked. She’d started eating really healthily when she’d lost the first baby, and she couldn’t quite let go of it, but she was trying to get her old self back.

‘Do you want veggies?’ she asked as she served up, and he gave her the oddest look. ‘I mean, you’ve lost weight, I thought maybe you’re on a diet.’

‘I joined a gym.’ James shrugged. ‘I can eat what I want now,’ he said. ‘It’s great.’

No, she wanted to correct him, because it wasn’t just about that, but she didn’t want to start the night with nagging. She’d already pursed her lips when he’d come home with cartons of chicken and stir-fried rice from his mum’s.

‘You look like you’ve lost weight too.’ James followed her into the living area and they sat down at the table for the first time in a very long time. She felt more awkward than one of her patients on their first visit. ‘I’ve been riding,’ Ava said, ‘and swimming.’

‘That’s good,’ James said. ‘That’s good, Ava.’

It was good, except she felt as if she was giving up on her dream … She’d given up so many things trying to hold on to their baby. Their first pregnancy the doctor had said that of course she could ride, given that she regularly did, and she was incredibly fit after all. So she’d carried on riding and swimming each morning and they had made love lots, as they always had.

The second pregnancy, she’d given up riding, figuring that it seemed stupid to risk a fall.

The third pregnancy, she had felt as if she were on a tightrope and had given up swimming, and by the fourth she had given up James.

And when she’d lost that one, Ava simply knew she couldn’t go through it again. It had been a relief to go on the Pill, to decide that children weren’t going to happen for them, to get on with their lives.

Except they hadn’t.

She sliced her grilled chicken, tried not to think about it. She didn’t want to think about babies. It was hard not to, though. She never had any problems getting pregnant. It was staying pregnant that had proved impossible. Six weeks, nine weeks, seven weeks and then ten weeks once …

She remembered Finn dragging her to the door.

Remembered his voice as he’d called her husband, but by then it had already been too late.

‘So what did you get up to in Brisbane?’

‘Not much. The teaching was pretty full on.’

‘You seemed pretty busy.’

He stood to get another bottle of water.

‘Might treat myself to sparkling,’ James said, and she knew it was a dig, because after three months apart they should be popping corks.

‘Can you check I turned the oven off?’ She watched his shoulders stiffen, knew it drove him crazy when once it had made him laugh, but she was forever checking things like that.

‘Well?’

‘It’s off,’ he said, cracking open the sparkling water, filling his glass and then raising it. ‘Cheers!’

She was quite sure he hadn’t checked but didn’t say so, very determined not to start a row.

Or face that conversation.

‘I got you Mum’s present for her birthday.’ God, but it was awkward. They hadn’t seen each other for three months so they should be at it over the table right now, completely unable to keep their hands off each other. Instead, there had been no contact and, worse, the conversation was strained. They simply had nothing to say to each other—it was worse than a first date.

‘How’s your work?’ James asked.

‘Busy.’

‘I heard about Finn’s operation being cancelled.’

‘Postponed.’

‘Ava.’ He’d finished his chicken and she had barely started hers. ‘While I’ve been away, I’ve been—’

‘I had a chat with Evie …’ They didn’t speak at the same time. James started and she interrupted and then stopped. ‘Sorry.’ She knew she had to face it. ‘You were saying?’

‘It can wait,’ James said, because he didn’t want to face it either. ‘How was Evie?’

They watched a movie, or tried to, but it was a crime one and she hated those, so midway through Ava gave up and went on her computer, writing up patient notes, fixing other people’s lives instead of her own.

‘I’m going to bed.’ She didn’t bend her head to kiss him and James hardly looked up, neither quite brave enough to have that talk.

He sat in the semi-darkness, teeth gritted, and tried to concentrate on the film, because if he didn’t he might just march into that bedroom and say something he’d regret.

Some welcome home.

He was a night person, and once Ava had been. She’d been a morning person too—up at the crack of dawn and swimming on weekdays, riding at weekends, and he was glad she was doing that again. It was the early nights he couldn’t stand and she was going to bed even earlier. Now it was lights down at ten, like some school trip.

James hauled himself from the sofa and wandered into his study, saw the wedding photo on the desk and he barely recognised them so he closed the door, went back into the living room, opened up his case then headed to the cupboard and took out a blanket and pillow and tossed them down.

God, but he hated that sofa.

There was a small bathroom in the hall and he was quite sure she’d prefer that he use it, but he refused to, so he took out his toiletry bag from the case and walked into the bedroom where she lay pretending to be asleep as he went into the en suite.