and Emily was watching him.
Her face was quietly thoughtful. He saw her acknowledge that he would not be here for the next birthday. Or the one after that, because he had no continuity like these women and their years of family traditions epitomised by this handmade diary of life.
Suddenly he needed fresh air and a cold breeze on his face to snap him out of melancholy. He pulled his phone from his pocket. Pretended to glance at it. ‘Excuse me. I need to make a call.’
He left her standing in the middle of the room and Emily watched him go. She couldn’t help but wonder about his childhood. What had formed the man who froze at the idea of permanence? She crossed to the kitchen and looked out the window. He wasn’t on the phone. He was staring at the empty bird feeder and the silhouette of his face made her ache for the loneliness she saw in his usually smiling face.
She turned, picked up the seeds for the birds, and followed him out. ‘The lorikeet isn’t here today.’
‘I should not have come.’
‘Why? Because you don’t think you’re welcome?’
‘Because I cannot have a healthy future with any woman.’ He turned to face her squarely. Lifted his head. ‘I cannot be the man you deserve, Emily.’
Emerrrlee. Yes, it would have been nice. More than nice to have a normal, evolving relationship with Marco. One with a future and stability and new excitement every day. But in reality life wasn’t like that, she of all people knew that, and from this last hour she’d discovered she was still glad she’d connected with Marco D’Arvello and really believed she always would be.
She wished she knew what had him running so scared from forming relationships. ‘We don’t have to be intensely involved in each other, Marco. The last couple of days were just a mirage for both of us.
‘But if you want a family to join for the next couple of weeks before you head off on your next high-powered assignment, please join mine.’
She spread her hands. ‘We’d love to have you. Anyone who blows up my balloons is welcome at my door any time.’
He smiled but the humour was missing. ‘I worry that it will be difficult for you when I leave.’
Maybe it would be difficult for him too? She shrugged. ‘My problem, not yours. I’m single, free to have what friends I choose, and I think regret for time we could have spent together could be worse than being safe with no friendship at all.’
She touched his arm. ‘But it’s up to you.’
That night at work Emily couldn’t help thinking about the day. How it hadn’t been as awkward as she’d expected it would be. How Marco had been unobtrusively supportive of Rodney and Annie, and circumspect with her. Maybe too circumspect, according to Annie’s view of her mother’s love life.
But the idea of just getting to know Marco without actually touching him could be a good idea, could help her see that a globetrotting, super-specialist was not in the realms of reality for her life. The problem was she really did like the caring man she could see beneath the handsome exterior.
Today she’d been glad he’d come back inside. Stayed another hour and helped. Had steadied her while she’d climbed the ladder and precariously placed the last balloon on the lightshade so that everyone clapped when it was done.
The phone rang and she blinked her way back to on-duty. ‘Maternity, Emily.’
‘Emergency Department. We’re sending up a thirty-four-weeker in prem labour. Helen Roberts. She’s a booked Caesarean for foetal abnormality and we have the team coming in for that if you can get her ready. We’re up to our ears down here.’
She knew Helen from the antenatal clinic. ‘No problem. Thanks.’ Emily put the phone down and scooted over to the cupboard with all the pre-admission notes for the women booked to have their babies with Sydney Harbour Hospital.
She pulled Helen’s notes and flipped them open on her way back to the desk. ‘Prem labour coming in.’ Helen would be stressing.
‘Must be the month for it.’ Lily reappeared from her ward round with a torch.
‘Helen was a booked Caesarean for next month. Baby has an oomphaceal picked up on late ultrasound. I’ll grab the IV stuff and theatre clothes if you set up the catheter trolley.’
‘Who’s going to Theatre with them?’ Lily was an experienced plastic surgery nurse and Emily was the more experienced with Caesareans.
‘I’ll go this time because I know her, and you hold the ward.’
Lily nodded as they hurried together to the sterile storeroom and loaded their trolleys.
Lily was frowning. ‘That’s a weakness in the skin around the navel, isn’t it?’
‘Yep. So part of the baby’s intestines and sometimes organs are not zipped inside.’ Emily grabbed an IV pole with one hand and pushed the trolley with the other. ‘The good thing about oomphaceals are the tummy contents are protected by the same membrane that covers the cord. So they’re usually safe and can be replaced over time as the skin grows and makes room until it can be replaced inside the abdomen. Or they can have surgery earlier.’
‘Imagine the mum.’ Lily shook her head. ‘It must be hard to be told your baby has something like that. You’d want to see your baby’s face in your mind but you’d have to be thinking about his tummy.’
Emily glanced at Lily as they hurried down to an empty room, set up their work areas and turned down the bed. ‘That’s very true. Helen’s amazing, though. I do wonder if sometimes the imagination is much worse than the actual reality.’ She grinned. ‘You and Luke not getting clucky, are you?’
‘Us?’ Lily shook her head but she did blush. Emily let it go with a smile. Lily changed the subject. ‘I’ll bet this mum will be looking forward to seeing her baby. Then she can stop imagining so much.’
They heard the lift doors open and Lily went out to direct them down the hall. Emily leaned over, stuck the name badge to the wall and shifted the bed across so the trolley could come in easily.
She was surprised to see Marco accompany the trolley but he’d said he was on call tonight. Apparently he’d offered to do call for the rest of the week so there’d be no more Limoncello for him when he got home from work.
HE SMILED at her and it was crazy, but just for that split second she felt the room light up and her heart swell. Then it was gone. She greeted her patient as she arrived at the door.
‘Hello, there, Helen. Your baby decided to do this in a rush?’
‘Hi, Emily. It started all of a sudden.’ Helen looked pale and anxious and Emily touched her hand in sympathy.
She gestured to Helen’s belly. ‘Maybe she decided it was time she called the shots? Where’s Ned?’
Helen grimaced. ‘Minding the kids. We couldn’t get anyone at such short notice.’
Emily nodded. ‘I’ll stay with you until he can get here.’ She glanced up at Marco. ‘It will take us about ten minutes to get Helen ready. Then I’ll come down with her.’
Marco leaned down and smiled at Helen. ‘I’ll see you in Theatre.’ He patted her shoulder and sent one last look Emily’s way before he was gone.
Emily glanced at the porter who’d helped Marco push the trolley. ‘So you’ll come back here for us as soon as you drop the baby resuscitation trolley in Theatre?’
‘Okeydoke.’ The man smiled at their patient. ‘See you in a minute.’
The next seven minutes saw Helen admitted, changed into a gown and hat, and an IV cannula inserted for