Her phone rang. ‘Conor?’ Nope. The screen showed Kelli.
‘Are you all right, girlfriend?’
Tamara stifled the threatening tears. ‘I’m wagging work.’
‘Now I know there’s something wrong. You don’t take time off for anything.’
Calming breaths. ‘I’m fine. A bit jaded. Think the pregnancy is taking its toll and what with everything else that’s gone down these past days I’m exhausted. A day off is about the baby and looking out for him.’
‘You’re sure? I can come around at the end of shift.’
Sniff. ‘Don’t you dare. Come three o’clock you’re on a week’s leave, and I’m not going to be responsible for you missing that flight to Queenstown.’
‘Okay, if you promise you’re okay.’
‘Promise.’ Hopefully Kelli hadn’t heard the crack in her voice. But in case she had, Tamara said goodbye and hung up. Now she’d lied to her best friend, but for all the right reasons. She wasn’t subjecting Kelli to another round of her heartbreak.
Shuffling down the bed, Tamara pulled the sheet over her head and pretended to sleep.
* * *
Monday took for ever to arrive. Not that Tamara wanted to show up at work with the shadows highlighting her cheekbones and the shine gone from her eyes. Everyone would guess something was up between her and Conor. But working with patients to distract her was way better than hiding in her flat. There was only so much washing and dusting she could do and she’d done it all by midday Friday.
‘Ambulance bringing in an elderly lady from Ponsonby. Found unconscious on her floor by a neighbour,’ Michael told her. ‘Can you take this one?’
‘Cubicle three,’ she acknowledged. ‘How was your birthday?’
The morning dragged by, barely faster than the weekend had. Every turn she made, she fully expected to see Conor with a patient or reading patient notes or typing details into a patient’s file or smiling at her. Every single time her gaze came up blank and her heart rolled over to belt her ribs. He was in Sydney and she missed him so much it was a permanent ache.
While she’d been in the shower yesterday, Conor had left a message on her answering machine that had quickly become her addiction. Hearing his voice was her only solace while at the same time it brought its own brand of agony. That Irish brogue stirred her deeply, tormented her and reduced her to tears every time she replayed the message. Not that she needed to hit replay.
‘Hey, Tamara, heard you were off work on Friday. Hope you’re not ill. I’ve made appointments to look at rental properties near the hospital next week. Will keep you posted. Oh, and you won’t have a problem getting work at Sydney Hospital. Catch you.’
The actual words did nothing to comfort her. He sounded as though nothing was wrong between them. Unfortunately she couldn’t stop listening to his voice.
Conor had left her. Sure, they’d get together over Sebastian, but that wasn’t the same. That wouldn’t satisfy her hormones, feed her desire, make her happy.
‘Tamara, your patient’s arrived in the ambulance bay.’ A nurse nudged her.
Cripes. Concentrate. ‘On my way.’ Leaping up from the computer, her head spun and she had to grab the counter.
‘Are you sure you should be back at work?’
‘Didn’t eat much over the weekend.’ Stale bread was so not appetising. Neither was three-day-old salad. Hitting the supermarket was top of her to-do list after work today. The only thing on the list.
‘Nearly three o’clock and home time,’ a nurse eventually told her with sympathy in her tone.
‘Great.’ Home. Alone.
* * *
At home with a bag of heat-and-eat meals that didn’t excite her taste buds but should keep baby happy, she made a cup of raspberry and pomegranate tea and sat with her feet up on the couch and the TV filling the empty space with background noise.
On her lap lay a courier parcel with Judy’s handwriting scrawled over the address section. A bigger package than the last one, it had been sitting on her doorstep when she’d staggered up the path.
Should she even open it, considering she and Conor were no longer together? But Judy was still Sebastian’s grandmother-in-waiting. As was her mum.
Putting the parcel aside, Tamara picked up her phone and hit ‘Mum’. Listening to the endless ringing, she kept up a line of Please, please, please.
Finally, ‘Hello?’
‘Don’t hang up. This is important.’
Click.
Write to her. Let her hold your letter, see your writing. Conor’s advice wove around her, making her sit up straighter.
Did he have a point? Before she could overthink what she was doing, she scrawled two pages of news to her mother about her baby and moving to Sydney and sealed them in an envelope.
Then she picked up Judy’s parcel and used her teeth to tear a hole big enough to push her finger through and rip it wide open. A teddy bear with one ear reattached with black thread and a leather patch stitched onto its front landed in her lap. Pressing it against her face, Tamara took a deep breath and smelled childhood and possibly Conor.
Soon the fake fur was saturated with tears, and still she clung to the bear. A letter had fallen out of the packet too.
Dear Tamara,
I hope you don’t mind me sending you some of Conor’s baby things, but I’ve waited so long for this day I can’t hold back. Tell me to stop if you don’t want any more parcels.
I know I’m being sentimental, but I love my son and know you’ll be wonderful for him.
The page became a ball in her fist.
No pressure, Judy.
At least by now Conor’s mother would know the score and was probably regretting sending the teddy. Lifting the bear, she stared at it, unable to toss it aside. It had been Conor’s, would be Sebastian’s.
Flattening the letter with her hand, she reread Judy’s kind words, and through more tears felt her heart slow. Reaching behind her, she lifted her copy of the image of Sebastian taken during her scan. ‘Sebastian, this is your teddy now. It used to be your daddy’s. What do you think? Isn’t he cute?’
Where was Conor? Swanning around Sydney like he hadn’t gone and broken her heart? Chatting up his new colleagues, making himself popular?
Preparing for his son? And finding somewhere for her to live?
Damn it. She could find her own place. Didn’t need his help. Certainly didn’t want his input if he wasn’t going to be a part of her life.
‘Conor, I am missing you so much it’s unbearable.’
Saturday afternoon Tamara listened to Conor’s message one last time and hit delete.
For the hundredth time since he’d left, her heart broke all over again. He really had gone. Time to accept it and start planning the future.
If only Conor loved her then he wouldn’t have left her. But he hadn’t wanted to fall in love at all.
Just like she hadn’t.
Ding-dong.
Her heart picked up its pace.
Conor? You’ve come back to spend the weekend with me, to make plans for our living arrangements and talk through your parting speech and maybe find a way out of this abyss.
Excitement rushed through her as she tugged the door open and swiped at the tears on her cheeks. She had another chance. He’d returned to try again.
‘Oh, girlfriend, you look terrible.’ Kelli was inside and hugging her before it completely hit home that Conor hadn’t come back for her.
Her earlier tears had nothing on the flood now hosing out of her eyes, deep sobs racking her body.
Kelli held her until the storm abated. ‘Conor?’
‘H-he’s g-gone,’ Tamara hiccupped.
‘That was the plan. To go sort out his new job and set up a place for you bot
h to live.’
‘He doesn’t want to get married.’ She started for the kitchen to put the kettle on. That’d give her something to do with her hands if nothing else.
‘When did he tell you that?’ Kelli demanded. ‘I’m going to knock his block off for hurting you.’
‘Thursday night last week.’
‘That explains why you weren’t at work last Friday. Why doesn’t Conor want to get married? Changed his mind about loving you, has he?’ There was an angry glint in Kelli’s eyes that spoke of danger to Conor if he came anywhere close.
Water splashed over the front of her shirt when she turned the tap on too hard. ‘He never said he loved me.’
‘Has he got cold feet about becoming a father? Because leaving you doesn’t change a thing about that. The baby is still going to arrive.’
‘No, Conor would never shirk responsibilities. Anyway, he wants to be a part of Sebastian’s life.’ She nibbled her bottom lip.
‘Then what’s the problem?’
‘He says he’s protecting me from getting hurt if he has another heart attack.’
‘What?’ Kelli’s question ricocheted off the walls.
Now she’d gone and spilled the beans. ‘No one’s meant to know but he had one fourteen years ago. He’s terrified it’ll happen again.’
Kelli sank onto a stool. ‘Never saw that coming. But are you sure that’s all? I mean, people have health problems all the time. Doesn’t mean they don’t get married and have families.’
‘You don’t think I didn’t tell him that?’ Tamara growled. ‘I love him so much, it’s crazy.’ How was it so easy to admit that to Kelli when she’d struggled to tell the one person who mattered? The man who needed to hear it?