Reunited...in Paris! Page 15

  But he was stuck on the fact that Tori hadn’t told him. He’d have dropped everything to be at her side. His career could’ve taken a back seat for a few weeks.

  Had they ever been right for each other? He’d believed so, still wanted to believe it, but the facts showed differently.

  Had they been in lust rather than love? No, he wouldn’t accept that. He still held her in his heart, and knew he always would. But getting back together was a recipe for disaster when they couldn’t tell each other the really important things. It seemed that when the chips were down they reverted to being individuals who didn’t communicate, who deliberately kept things from each other. He’d expected total transparency from her.

  Hypocrite.

  Yep.

  But hadn’t he stood his ground and faced up to his shortcomings despite the old man’s fury? Yep. But he hadn’t told Tori. He’d been gutless, hadn’t trusted her to love him enough. And now he wasn’t trusting her again.

  ‘Can you fasten your seatbelt for landing, sir?’

  Ben blinked, stared out and down, saw the green fields of England speeding beneath the wing. ‘Sure.’

  England. The place he called home these days. He waited for the usual buzz of excitement to touch him. It didn’t happen.

  He needed a distraction. Not one with long, red hair and eyes the colour of emeralds that filled with excitement and sadness and guilt and laughter. Any old everyday distraction would do fine.

  He got one. Striding out into the arrivals lounge, he was greeted by Jason, one of the partners he worked for at the cardiology clinic. ‘Hey, Jason, what brings you out here?’

  Jason shook his hand. ‘How was the conference?’ Obviously not in a hurry to answer the question.

  ‘Excellent.’

  ‘I hear your ex was in Nice, and that she went to the Paris teaching hospital, too.’

  Jason wasn’t afraid of treading on toes—he leapt on them. ‘Yes, Tori was in both places. Yes, I spent time with her. No, we’re not getting back together.’

  ‘How do you feel about that?’

  ‘Jason, shut up, will you?’

  The damned man just shrugged. ‘The car’s outside the main entrance.’

  The car, as in the chauffeured Bentley. ‘I’m getting the royal treatment.’ Not that Jason wasn’t averse to offering his friends a lift, but to have swung by Heathrow seemed a bit extreme. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘We’ll talk in the car.’

  Ten minutes later Jason told him, ‘Maxwell’s not returning to work. He’s resigning his partnership. Mary has liver cancer and the prognosis isn’t good.’

  Ben had known Maxwell’s wife was ill but this was worse than anything he’d expected. ‘Surely Maxwell can take leave for as long as he wants?’

  ‘He doesn’t want to. Says he should’ve resigned before and now it’s almost too late.’ Jason stared out at the passing scenery.

  ‘I’m very sorry.’ Life was precarious. John’s cardiac arrest had told him that. Friends were precious. As was his ex-wife.

  ‘Of course, Maxwell might change his mind later, and if he does we’ll work something out, but right now we have to accept his wishes.’

  And I thought I had it bad, leaving Tori in Paris. At least she was fit and well and he knew exactly where to find her if he couldn’t control the urge to see her and hold her and kiss her again. But he felt raw. Raw and aching and desperately in need of resolution.

  Jason cleared his throat. ‘The partners, me included, have been discussing where to from here. We’re offering you a partnership.’

  Yes. I’ve done it. Yee-ha. It was hard not to punch the air.

  Tori would.

  A great lump of pride and gratitude clogged his throat. A partnership in Harley Street. Seven years on from disaster and he’d finally paid his dues. He wanted to tell Tori. First. Then John and Rita, and his family, especially his father. Take that, Dad. Honesty did pay.

  Gloating isn’t attractive.

  Gloating was what his father did. Ben gulped. He didn’t want to sound like him. Hell, was he like his old man? Shock stunned him. He couldn’t be. He could be. Hell. Ben nearly choked. No way. But he was just as driven.

  ‘You can take time to think about it,’ Jason said with a dollop of disbelief and a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

  Ben turned to him, his face split into an easy smile. ‘I don’t need to.’ But again he hesitated.

  Are you sure? Is this what you really want? To be permanently in London? Cutting off any chance of getting together with Tori?

  Tori and he were over. Had been since the night he’d walked out of their apartment. These past days had been an aberration, a bit of fun with a woman he’d once loved, still loved. There was no future for them.

  Jason’s offer was real, waiting for him to sign up. ‘This is what I’ve been working for.’

  ‘That’s a yes, then?’

  Ben put out his hand. ‘Definitely a yes.’

  ‘Good. The partners will be pleased. You’re expected at dinner tonight. My place.’

  Despair nearly swamped his happiness. Why couldn’t he just accept this amazing offer and what it entailed? Hell, he had accepted it.

  Ben leaned back into the corner of the car and took the glass of champagne Jason held out.

  ‘This is just a quiet toast between you and me.’ Jason tapped his glass. ‘I knew I’d picked a winner when you came for your interview.’

  Sipping the champagne, Ben finally grinned. ‘Thanks.’ Suddenly excitement gripped him, making him want to shout out to everyone they passed. Partner in a renowned cardiac clinic. Amazing. The only glitch was the reason a partnership had become available.

  ‘You haven’t hauled out your phone and told anyone about the partnership,’ Jason observed with a wry smile. ‘I would forgive you in the circumstances.’

  ‘I’ll get to it. At the moment I’m celebrating with one of my partners.’ Even while wanting to shout this fantastic news from the rooftops, Ben felt unusually reticent.

  Growing up, every time he’d achieved something big and rushed to tell his dad, expecting high praise, he’d got a curt nod and been told to do even better. It had always taken the gloss off his achievement. He didn’t want that this time, even if his father wouldn’t be the first person he told.

  And who would that be? She would only congratulate you and hang up. Is that what you want?

  * * *

  Of course, it started to rain when Ben was farthest from his apartment. ‘Typical,’ he growled as he ducked into a pub close to Southwark Bridge. But the weather did suit his despondent mood.

  ‘I’ll have a pint, thanks, pal,’ he told the barman as he settled onto a stool. Looking around at the noisy patrons, he shook his head. What a difference seven days made. This time last week he’d been in a restaurant in Paris, having a wonderful meal with Tori before going to the show. Now John and Rita were ensconced in his apartment with their kids, Tori was back in Auckland, and he’d been made a partner in the Harley Street practice, thereby achieving his goal.

  ‘Here you go.’ The barman pushed his drink into his line of vision and waited to be paid.

  ‘Cheers.’ Shoving his wallet back into his pocket, Ben took a thoughtful mouthful of the beer, which turned his mouth sour. Nothing wrong with the beer, just his mood. He should be on top of the world.

  He missed Tori. That was all. Nothing else bothered him. Much. Tori was everything. Even London wasn’t the same without her to talk to, and she had never been here. He hadn’t phoned to tell her about the partnership. How could he when he’d left her that note in Paris?

  Yeah, moron. Saying you’d learned the two of you weren’t meant to get back together wasn’t exactly your brightest move.

  Gulp. The beer was not getting a
ny better.

  Even with his friends here in his apartment, he was lonely—for Tori. This was worse than when they’d split up in the first place. Then there’d been so much going down he’d had plenty to focus on. Now he had a partnership to sign up for and yet all he wanted was to see Tori, talk about random things, go for a walk with her in those ridiculously high shoes she adored.

  ‘Something wrong with your beer?’ the barman asked.

  ‘No.’ Ben shook his head. ‘Can you get me a vodka, please?’

  Tori used to drink the occasional vodka and lime. Towards the end of their relationship she’d been drinking more than the occasional one. He’d known she’d been drowning her sorrows but had never reached out to her because he’d felt too guilty about being the cause of her sadness. He hadn’t been able to bear to think that she blamed her drinking for the miscarriage, especially as she hadn’t even realised she’d been pregnant. If anyone was responsible, it was him. For pushing her away, instead of leaning on her and telling her how much he needed her.

  Tori, Tori, Tori. Always in his head.

  Why didn’t he just phone her? Now? Say hi, and ask how she was settling back into work after her trip.

  Suddenly Ben’s phone was in his hand and he was scrolling through his contact list. Tori’s number glinted at him, tormenting him to press the phone icon so he could hear her voice, listen to her talk about her young patients and the clinic.

  His heart slowed. Should he? What would Tori say when she heard his voice? Go away and leave me alone, most likely.

  The vodka tasted better. His thumb slid back and forth over the phone. It would be so easy to press the screen and wait for her to pick up. Bang. The phone lay on the counter. Get real. If he phoned and talked to Tori, told her about the partnership, chatted about Nice, then what? Tell her how much he missed her? That would go down like a lead balloon. She’d laugh at him and hang up.

  Gulp. The vodka disappeared in record time—for him anyway. He stared at the phone, even though the back light had gone off. When had he got to be such a coward?

  ‘Want another?’ The barman was back.

  Yep, followed by yet another. ‘No, thanks, pal.’ Getting drunk only delayed things, didn’t solve them. Picking up the phone, he felt a thrill as a text came through. Tori?

  Of course not. He pressed the phone icon on the number. ‘Hey, Rita, I’ll be there in twenty. Want me to bring anything home for dinner?’

  ‘Just that ugly butt of yours. John could do with some company. Apparently the kids and I have driven him crazy.’ Rita didn’t sound at all perturbed, more like happy.

  ‘He’s getting restless, thinks he’s ready to be up and at everything, when he’s still not a hundred percent well yet.’

  ‘You got it. Are you still at work?’

  Not a silly question. It was barely eight. ‘I’m in a pub. Got rained on when I went for a walk.’

  ‘Ah, doing the Tori thing. See you soon.’

  Ben smiled for the first time all day. Rita got how he missed Tori and didn’t take a back seat when it came to mentioning it. Was he missing something here? Apart from Tori? Would this be easy to sort if he actually tried, instead of avoiding it for fear of losing his chance?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  TORI STRAIGHTENED HER aching back and wrote down Dean’s latest obs. Had she really been in France last month? Since arriving home three weeks ago she’d barely come up for air. Flu had struck, taking out the staff one by one. This past week Conrad and three nurses had been away.

  Operations had been postponed but Tori had refused to cancel any appointments, which meant the waiting room was chock full of families with ill children desperate to see her. Fingers crossed, they were through the worst of it all and would soon be back to full strength.

  ‘At least this young man will be improving very soon.’ Dean had become gravely ill and early that morning he’d had surgery for a bleeding stomach ulcer. He’d been brought back to the ward an hour ago, Tori and the gastro surgeon having agreed it was best for Dean to remain under her care rather than add to his distress by moving him to another ward that was full of adult patients.

  ‘He’s had more than his share of bad luck,’ Karen, the nurse assigned to him, commented.

  Dean lay so still Tori wanted to touch him to make sure he was breathing. She knew he was, she’d just done the obs, but his little chest barely rose on every intake of air. It was very tempting to pull up the chair and sit with him for a while, to give him her undivided attention, even when he had his own nurse right there. Anyway, if she sat she’d probably nod off, given the exhaustion dragging at every muscle in her body.

  Gently brushing an errant curl off Dean’s brow, she told him even though he couldn’t hear her, ‘That T-shirt will look cool on you.’

  ‘How many did you bring back?’ Karen grinned.

  ‘Quite a load. There’s a case full of them in my office. Help yourself to one.’ Her eyes were still fixed on Dean, her heart crunching for this brave wee man. After a long moment she turned to Dean’s parents, sitting apart on the far side of the bed. ‘Hey, you two, he’s doing well.’

  ‘He’s so sick.’ Julene began to cry. ‘I don’t think he’s going to make it this time, Tori.’

  ‘Don’t say things like that,’ Leo snapped, moving his chair farther sideways.

  ‘Look at him. Think what he’s been like this past month. He’d even stopped smiling.’ The tension between the two of them was at breaking point.

  Tori sighed. It was incredibly difficult for them, watching their son fight for his life and not being able to do anything. ‘Because Dean’s so anaemic it’s going to take time before he’s completely back to his normal cheery self. Anaemia drains a person of all their energy. He’s being given whole blood right now and when he wakes up you’ll notice a change in his disposition.’

  ‘Why did he get an ulcer in the first place?’ Leo snapped. ‘Ulcers are what adults get, not kids.’

  ‘From the information I received about all drugs Dean’s been given over the last two years, I suspect those tablets for headaches he took earlier this year may have been the culprit. They’re known to cause stomach problems, including ulcers, especially in children.’ Why the GP had prescribed them to a child when there was a liquid version available Tori had no idea, but it made her want to scream with frustration. ‘That’s why pharmacists advise taking those pills with food.’

  ‘I’ve always made certain he eats before taking anything,’ Julene ground out through clenched teeth. ‘Always.’

  ‘The good news is that we can safely say the assist device wasn’t the cause of Dean’s exhaustion. His heart’s working just fine.’ That had been a load off her mind.

  ‘I guess we can be thankful for that.’ Leo crossed his legs, uncrossed them again. ‘I can’t help wondering what’s next.’

  ‘How about a full recovery?’ Tori certainly hoped so, and in reality there was no reason why Dean wouldn’t be up and about soon. But these two were going to take longer to relax. ‘Go take a break. You both need it. Dean’s under one-on-one care for the next twenty-four hours so he won’t be alone at all. His surgeon will be keeping an eye on him. Go home, have a meal together, get some sleep.’ Make love and remember why you’re together.

  She wouldn’t have thought that until Nice and Ben. Benji. Pain stabbed her. She missed him so much. Unbelievable considering how long they’d been separated. It had been a mistake to spend time with him, and yet nothing could’ve stopped her. She loved him, and that had made her careless with her heart.

  ‘I’d feel guilty, going home,’ Leo muttered.

  Guilt. There was a lot of that about. ‘Don’t.’ Like she had any right to tell him that. ‘You’re no good to Dean if you’re asleep on your feet.’ Tori paused, added quietly, ‘If you’re both arguing because o
f that tiredness, he’s going to pick up on your tension. Do yourselves a favour and get out of here for a while. I’ll phone if anything changes but Dean will probably sleep most of the day.’

  ‘Tori.’ Julene lifted her head and stared at her. Her tone softened. ‘Thank you for everything. Not just the medical stuff but things like this. You understand us and that’s been so important all the way through.’

  ‘Get out of here,’ she growled, as warmth expanded in her chest. This was why she worked the hours she did, trying to make a difference for a few families. That in turn filled her life with happiness. But it would be so much better if she had Ben with her. Or she was with him. Like that’d ever happen. Watching the couple leave, Leo’s arm at last around Julene’s shoulders, Tori couldn’t help wondering what her own future held in the couple stakes. Right this moment it looked bleak. Ben’s face flitted into her mind, making her ache with love. What she wouldn’t give to have him here, to be able to lean against him and feel his arms around her, giving her strength.

  Since when had she relied on someone else to support her?

  Shaking that useless question away, Tori told Karen, ‘Call me if anything changes.’ But she didn’t move.

  ‘Will do,’ Karen answered quietly, as she re-tucked the blanket around Dean.

  Her next patient was thirteen-year-old Katherine, who’d been born with a congenital heart defect. Tori dug into her case to find a T-shirt in the right size. ‘Hey, try this on when you get home.’

  Katherine’s eyes widened. ‘Did you get that for me? Great. Thanks, Tori.’ No one called her ‘Doctor’ around here. It was Tori or the Heart Lady. Patients of Katherine’s age and older thought it cool to use her first name.

  ‘Right, so how have you been?’

  ‘Just crackerjack. I’m training for the disabled national bowling team.’