Fiona Lowe

Letting Go With Dr Rodriguez


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composure, she spoke softly but with an edge of steel. ‘When last week?’

      For the first time, he dropped his gaze. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

      She gripped the support rail as her knees turned to jelly. ‘Yes, it bloody matters.’

      He ran his hand over his short-cropped hair. ‘Look, Luce, there’s no point—’

      ‘Tell me!’ She heard her tears in the shout as she lost the battle to hold herself together.

      ‘Wednesday afternoon.’

      It was as if the cable of the elevator snapped right there and then, releasing the silver box into free-fall. Only it was her life that was tumbling and crashing down around her, and taking all the supporting pillars with it. Pillars she’d barely shored up after they’d spectacularly collapsed in on her six months ago, making her question everything she’d ever believed in.

      Every part of her was numb—her lungs refused to move and tears blurred her eyes. How could this be happening? Why now when everything else in her life, including her career, was so unsettled? A shot of righteous anger suddenly pierced through the numbness giving rise to blessed pain. ‘You bastard.’

      His head snapped up. ‘Oh, that’s rich. I’m the bastard, but you’ve been the one who’s been closed off for months. You might be standing next to me, but you’re never really here. Jess at least understands me. Jess gives me something. You’ve given me nothing for way too long, Lucy.’

      Her anger swelled, propelled by a hammering heart and utter devastation. ‘You’re not just a bastard, Dan, you’re a selfish bastard. You know what’s been going on with me and Da—’ She stopped herself, not able to finish that particular word. She swallowed and pushed on. ‘With William. You know what I’ve been going through, but that doesn’t count for anything, does it? Nothing matters if it’s not all about you.’

      His mouth tightened giving his boyish face a hard edge. ‘It’s been all about you for months, Luce, and I’ve had enough.’

      She’d known in her heart things weren’t good between them, but she’d never expected such a bitter betrayal. ‘Then why didn’t you just leave? Why take my friend with you?’

      A light came into his eyes. ‘I think I love her.’

      The simple words plunged into her heart making her double up in pain. Words he’d never voiced to her in all their time together. Her chest rose and fell way too fast and she put her hands around her mouth so she didn’t hyperventilate.

      Daniel slammed his hands against the ‘door open’ button. ‘Come on.’ He hit every other button too, wanting out of this box of torrid emotions as much as she did.

      Lucy dug deep and found her voice. ‘You say you love Jess and yet you still had sex with me? Oh, that’s classy, Dan, really classy.’ The combined infidelity of her friends burned through her soul. ‘You both deserve each other.’

      A trace of contrition played across his cheeks. ‘Look, Luce, I’m sorry it ended this way, but it’s not all my fault.’

      Utter wretchedness dragged at her and she nodded mutely, not because she agreed with him, but because she couldn’t voice even a tenth of her feelings at the utter disloyalty of the two people she’d drawn on for support over most of the year.

      A whirring noise sounded, followed by the elevator moving slowly down. Finally the doors opened with a ping and Daniel muttered, ‘Thank God,’ before stepping out and walking away without a backwards glance.

      The doors slid shut and Lucy sank to the floor, closing her eyes. Even in her darkest moments she’d never imagined she would have been part of the conversation that had just taken place. She lurched from one memory to another, searching for clues, hints—anything at all that might have prepared her for Daniel’s bombshell. Things had been strained, but there’d been no hint of him and Jess.

       None that you noticed. But then again, you haven’t noticed much lately, have you?

      Her head pounded and resentment burned through her. She felt her smart-phone vibrate and she pulled it out of the deep pocket in her white coat, expecting a message from the ward asking where she was and how much longer she’d be, because her patient was overdue for IV antibiotics. The message wasn’t from the ward, but an email from an unfamiliar name.

      She squinted through her headache to make the words come into focus.

      Ms Patterson,

      As you know, your father, Dr William Patterson, has fractured his tibia. He is not a man to ask for help so I, as his doctor and the second medical practitioner in Bulla Creek, am asking for you to visit at your earliest convenience. Marco Rodriguez (Dr)

      She stared at the email, reading it three times before the words finally sank in. Fractured tibia? She bit her lip as guilt spun around worry. Of course she hadn’t known about William’s leg. She hadn’t communicated with him in months and the emails he’d sent had dealt only with the information she’d requested. None had mentioned his health. Neither had he mentioned a doctor with a Spanish name and a formal writing style, which indicated that English wasn’t his native language. What was a Spaniard doing in outback Bulla Creek?

      At your earliest convenience. She instinctively shook her head and then, from the tangled mess that was currently her life, she stared up at the ceiling of the elevator absolutely certain about one thing. No way was she going back to Bulla Creek.

      You mean home.

      ‘No, I mean Bulla Creek.’ Her emphatic voice sounded strident in the confines of the otherwise empty elevator.

       Right, so you’re ignoring duty, staying in Perth where your boyfriend’s just dumped you, and your housemate has utterly betrayed you. That’s gonna be cosy. Kinda makes Bulla Creek almost attractive, doesn’t it?

      Lucy dropped her head in her hands and wished she could wind back the clock one year—back to a time when she knew who she was, knew where she belonged and where she was headed. Instead she now faced a road that stretched way out in front of her that was filled with a pea-soup fog.

      Every part of her railed against the idea of going back to Bulla Creek, but the news about William tore at the box she’d shoved all her feelings about him into—feelings she didn’t want to revisit. They came back anyway in unsettling waves. No matter what had happened between them and no matter how much she didn’t want to see him, she couldn’t just ignore the fact he’d broken his leg. Not at his age. The doctor in her knew that only too well. Acknowledging it smoothed out her tangled thoughts.

      ‘I’ll take some annual leave, fly up to Bulla Creek for a quick visit and check that William’s receiving the correct medical care. Then I’ll come back here, find a new place to live and sort out the rest of my life, which won’t include disloyal friends and cheating, bastard men.’

      You do realise there isn’t anyone here listening except me and I don’t need to hear you talk to know exactly what you’re thinking.

      ‘Shut-up.’ The yell propelled Lucy to her feet and she brushed down her white coat. Her life was in tatters, but at least she had a plan. One she was clinging to like a floating log in a choppy sea.

      The red dust of Bulla Creek was covered in a layer of green, courtesy of a record-setting wet winter followed by a sunny spring. The sheep wore thick fleeces, lambs gambolled on fat legs and the farmers smiled, which was almost as uncommon as the weather. Dr Marco Rodriguez returned a farmer’s hat tip and grin as he strode down the main street toward the Bulla Creek Medical Centre. It wasn’t the first time he’d reflected on the fact that, in general, farmers in Western Australia shared a taciturn approach to life that was very similar to that of the farmers of his homeland of Argentina. Life on the land was tough and a good season was cause for celebration.

      He turned left at the rust-and-sand-coloured church, which stood diagonally opposite the pub. Both buildings had been built