Mike could only marvel at the way Tess stayed silent and let Doreen spill out her guilt and her anguish. The walls between the room Tess used as a surgery and the room Mike used as a file room needed to be soundproofed-long term there were all sorts of arrangements to be made if Tess was to stay-and Doreen’s anguish was loud. Mike, sitting alone as he wrote up patient notes, could hear every word.
There were only gentle murmurs from Tess, though. Tess knew when to stay silent, as well as when to bounce with enthusiasm.
‘Why don’t you go to Melbourne and stay with Hugh?’ she suggested softly, when Doreen had sobbed herself dry. ‘Hugh will be feeling dreadful and that’s where you should be. At his side.’
Doreen finally left, still sniffing into her handkerchief but comforted all the same. ‘Are you sure it’d be OK?’ she asked as Tess saw her to the door. ‘I mean…our relatives all blame us for sleeping together in the first place. They think that’s one reason why Les is in the mess he’s in. If I go to Hugh now…’
‘You follow your heart,’ Tess suggested gently. ‘If you think it’s right, don’t let anyone else stand in your way.’
Follow your heart…
Then Mike watched the way Tess helped her grandfather find his feet again. She spent hours assisting him to make his unsteady way along the hospital corridors, as if she had all the time in the world, and as if spending hour after hour watching an old man learn the skills of using a walking-frame was the most important thing she could possible be doing.
Henry thrived under her care, and Mike couldn’t believe the speed of his recovery.
Tess got to know the locals. She introduced herself to every player of the Jancourt Football Club, and took the job of learning the rules of her new-found passion deadly seriously. To Mike’s astonishment, she even started knitting a scarf in team colours.
‘I think I’ll do two matching ones,’ she told him, clacking away at her knitting needles with the seriousness of a grandmother. ‘Or maybe just one long one so we can wear an end each…’
And at night…
At night the farm lay empty. Tessa had cleaned it so she could stay there, and she still visited Doris and her babies each night and checked on the place, but late each night she returned to town and she took Mike into her arms-and she slept exactly where she wanted to be. With her Mike.
Even Strop seemed to approve. When Tess was there the dog left the bed to them, and in Tessa’s body Mike found a peace he’d never thought to have.
Life had never been this good, Mike thought blissfully as he loved his woman. Mike had never known-never dreamed-it could be so good.
He held his love in his arms and he loved her-but only half of him believed in his good fortune. The other half of him knew he was living in a soap bubble.
‘Hey, I’m not about to disappear,’ Tess teased gently on the anniversary of their first two weeks together. ‘I’m here for good.’
Mike didn’t believe it, but he held her just the same.
In a town like Bellanor it was impossible to keep such a relationship a secret. After that first night-when Mike had emerged to Monday morning after a night spent with Tessa-he had been met with knowing looks and laughter.
‘Bloody good thing too, Doc.’ That was the general consensus. ‘What took you so long?’
So long… A whole three days…
By the end of the two weeks the general approval was becoming laced with a stronger message.
‘So, when are you going to make an honest woman of her, Doc? Get a mother for that crazy mutt of yours…?’
Marriage…
Mike had never thought of such a thing, but, once suggested, the idea stayed in his mind and wouldn’t leave. He looked at it from all sides and knew his vow had definitely been broken already. He could hardly make it worse.
That night, Tess came with him when he did his weekly house call to Stan Harper. Stan was still suffering his chest pains and Mike was increasingly worried about him. His heart seemed strong and healthy, and yet Stan himself seemed to be almost fading.
‘I’m just feeling bloody lousy, Doc,’ Stan told him with an apologetic look at Tess. ‘Pardon my French, miss.’
Tess had been sitting at ease at Stan’s kitchen table while Mike listened to Stan’s chest, and her face was sympathetic. ‘I don’t understand Australian swear words,’ Tess lied. ‘I’m trying to get Mike to teach them to me but he likes me unspoiled. I know “damn” means more than just a big puddle of water, but do you think he’ll explain? No way!’
Stan chuckled and his misery lifted for a little while-but only for a little while.
‘I’d like you to come into hospital for a few days,’ Mike suggested as Stan hauled down his sweater. ‘Stan, there doesn’t seem anything wrong with your heart and the last three electrocardiographs have been normal, but if you’re still having the pain…well, something’s going on. Let’s have you in and do a full check-up.’
But Stan would have none of it.
‘Nope. I’m staying here. But you’ll come again next Saturday?’ His voice was anxious and Mike knew just how lonely the old man was.
‘Tell you what,’ Mike suggested. ‘How about if I get the district nurse to call? I’ll still come next week, but she’ll come every other day as well. Just until we’re sure everything’s right.’
But Stan wasn’t having that either. ‘I don’t want a fuss,’ he said definitely. He sighed. ‘Sometimes…well, yeah, I get chest pain and, yeah, I’m miserable but it’s nothing that having Cathy back wouldn’t fix.’ He sighed again and looked closely from Mike to Tess. ‘But look at the pair of you. Here’s me fretting about myself when I should be saying how glad I am to see you finally wrapped around a woman’s little finger, young Mike. You’re smelling of April and May if ever anyone was. So when are you two going to tie the knot?’
Tess blushed and Mike shook his head.
‘That’s for us to know and you to guess,’ he told Stan firmly-but the thought of what lay ahead was warm inside him. He glanced sideways at Tess and smiled-and she smiled straight back.
‘Don’t hang around too much, then,’ Stan begged. ‘It’s too bloody important. You grab her while she’s here. And hold on for dear life.’
The conversation in the Aston Martin on the way home was strained. Mike was trying to think about Stan, when all he wanted was to concentrate on Tess. They’d left Strop snoozing under Henry’s bed for the afternoon, and it was lovely to be able to see Tessa instead of liver and white spots whenever he glanced sideways, but the sight of Tess-and Tess’s leggings-wasn’t helping his concentration.
‘I’m still worried about Stan,’ he told her stiffly.
‘Mmm.’ Tess pulled her knees up to her chin and hugged them. She was wearing black leggings and a vast purple sweater that covered her from her knees right up. She looked smashing.
‘I don’t think he’s eating,’ she said.
‘Why do you think that?’
‘Well, when we went there last week, I prowled,’ she told him. ‘When you had Stan in the bedroom, giving him the complete once-over, I poked my nose into his kitchen cupboards and just had a look at things-like the level of cereal in his cornflakes packet and what groceries there were and where they were. And tonight-when Stan walked us out to the car and I dived back inside because I’d left my bag- I had a fast look again and nearly everything’s exactly the same. He hasn’t touched his cornflakes. There’s exactly the same number of eggs in the fridge as last week and when I picked one up and shook it, it sort of rattled-you know how really old eggs do? I reckon he’s eaten a few bowls of tinned tomato soup, and not a lot else. Even the packet of bread in the freezer is the same one as last week. I ripped a little edge off the packet last week so I’d know it-and it’s the same packet, only about six slices down.’