‘I don’t know how you managed without her,’ Mike was told over and over, and only he knew that he’d managed a darn sight better without her than with her. He was tearing himself in two!
‘We were fine by ourselves,’ he told Strop, but Strop’s big, mournful eyes looked more mournful than ever, and his tail didn’t wag at all. He hadn’t minded sharing his Mike with Tess-and Tess was a dab hand with a can opener.
Mike’s pain couldn’t go unnoticed, especially by Tessa.
‘You’re being a dope,’ she told him bluntly, six weeks after Stan’s death. It was eleven at night. She’d come in to see a patient she’d admitted to hospital that afternoon, and came past the kitchen door to find him cooking himself bacon and eggs again. ‘You’ll kill yourself on that diet, and you’re still working too hard.’ She stood in the doorway and glared. ‘You know damn well I want more work, Mike Llewellyn. Give it to me.’
‘You can’t work full time and look after Henry.’
‘Henry’s getting better every day. He’s almost independent now.’ She hesitated and then walked all the way in, sitting down at the table while he cooked. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving, if that’s what you’re hoping. Mike, I’m not going away. If anything, I’m getting closer. Henry and I have decided to sell the farm.’
‘Sell the farm!’ That rattled him.
‘We love it but we don’t need sixty acres,’ she told him. ‘And, living out there, I’m too far from the hospital. It was Grandpa’s idea. There’s a great little place down by the river just half a mile from here. Grandpa’s been to see it and he loves it.’
‘But he loves his farm.’
‘So do we both. But we love being together more. This way we can stay together. Just me and Grandpa and Doris the pig…’
‘And the eight porky babies?’ He couldn’t help himself. Mike’s eyes twinkled and Tess twinkled right back.
‘Come out and see our babies some time. They’re what you might call good-dooers. Even Doris is feeling the strain. We may keep little Mike-or rather big Mike-but that’s about the limit.’
‘I see.’
‘Mike…’
‘Yes?’
Tess hesitated and then sighed. ‘You’re still blaming me for Stan’s death-right?’
‘No. I’m blaming me.’
‘That’s worse.’
‘It can’t be helped,’ he said stiffly. ‘It’s the way it is.’
‘So you’re intending to stay solitary for the rest of your life? And keeping on working just as hard as you can?’
‘That’s the plan.’
‘Well, it’s a really stupid plan,’ she burst out. ‘Just crazy. Do you think your mother would thank you for doing it? For grudging me every piece of work I can get my hands on and for turning your back on a really magnificent love life? What with me and Grandpa and Doris and Strop, who could ask for more? And for running yourself into the ground because you’re so damned miserable you’ve stopped looking after yourself?’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘No, it’s not,’ she snapped. ‘You should be eating three solid meals a day, with a nice family routine. Like with me and Grandpa and our appendages. Even with a couple of kids.’ Tess flushed and then managed a smile. ‘Well, if Doris can have little Mikes, I don’t see why I can’t. And as for living on bacon and eggs…’
‘I like bacon and eggs.’ Mike flipped his egg out on top of his bacon and stared down at it. Then he shoved the whole plate away. Suddenly he didn’t feel like anything at all.
And Tessa’s voice suddenly lost its aggressiveness. ‘You’re OK, aren’t you, Mike?’ Her face creased in sudden concern. ‘You’re not sickening for something?’
‘No.’
‘So you’re not dying of a broken heart?’ Her words were flippant, but her face was still worried. ‘Mike, are you losing weight?’
‘No.’
‘I reckon you are,’ Tess said slowly. Her eyes narrowed as she checked him out. ‘In fact, I’m sure you are. And don’t tell me. You don’t really feel like that eggs and bacon.’
The plate lay before them, untouched. Mike hauled it back before him and picked up his knife and fork. ‘Yeah. I do. OK?’
‘So eat.’
‘I’ll eat when you leave.’
‘I’m not leaving until I see you eat.’
‘Tess…’
‘Mike, is there something really wrong here? There is, isn’t there?’ All of a sudden Tess looked really worried. ‘Mike, tell me-’
‘There’s nothing wrong,’ he said explosively. ‘I’ve just got a bit of a belly ache. That’s all.’
‘And tonight’s the first time you’ve had it?’
‘Yes!’
‘OK.’ Tess held her hands up in mock surrender. ‘I know when I’m not wanted. But if it really has been going on for longer… If there’s something wrong…’
‘There isn’t.’
‘If there is…and you won’t talk to me about it…’ Tess hesitated. ‘Or even take a few days off and see someone in Melbourne… Well, a man would be fool-wouldn’t he?’
There was nothing wrong.
Tess left. Mike abandoned his eggs and bacon and took himself back to his apartment, but Tessa’s words kept playing in his head. A man’d be a fool…
There’s nothing wrong, he told himself harshly, blocking off the thought of a few faint worries. There was no need to talk to Tessa or anyone else about this. It was just a nagging gut ache, that was all, and it was caused by nervous tension. There. The diagnosis was easy. He’d got himself in an emotional state over a woman and it was physically taking its toll.
He just needed time to sort himself out, he figured. He needed to divorce himself from what he was feeling for Tessa and then he’d be fine. He took some antacid and managed to eat and hold down a dry piece of toast. Then he said goodnight to Strop and went to bed.
That was at midnight. By dawn he was sicker than he’d ever been in his life.
‘Have you seen Dr Llewellyn?’
Tess had been in the hospital for a whole five minutes before she was hit by the question. It was Horrible Hannah, about to go off night duty. Tess met Bill Fetson, coming on duty, in the hall and Hannah met them both.
‘Mrs Carter’s drip packed up about an hour ago and I need orders,’ the nurse told them. ‘I rang Dr Llewellyn’s apartment but he’s not answering. He must have gone out on a call but he’s not answering his mobile phone either.’
‘Maybe he’s out of range,’ Bill said. Then he frowned. ‘But he knows where the phone cuts out. If he’s going to be out of range then he rings first and tells us where he can be contacted.’
‘Maybe he doesn’t think it as important any more,’ Tess said. ‘Now that I can be contacted, he has back-up.’
‘He doesn’t like us contacting you.’ Hannah shrugged. ‘But I guess that must be it. Or he’s somewhere where the lines are down. That’s quite a storm outside.’
It was. The wind had been rising all night and now it was screaming around the sides of the building in the full blast of the onset of winter. A storm like this would be bound to bring the odd telephone wire down. Tess frowned but forced herself relax.
‘OK, let’s not worry,’ she said-but she was worrying. ‘I’ll check Mrs Carter for you.’
She did and she ended up doing a full round of Mike’s patients. There must be an emergency to keep him away, they decided, but there was nothing they could do until he contacted the hospital.
Tess had a house call of her own. She should leave now, but instead she made her way back to the nurses’ station. Hannah was still there, having decided she didn’t want to walk home until the worst of the weather had abated, and so was Bill.
‘So, where is he?’ she asked, and Bill shook his head.
‘Beats me.’
‘Has anyone checked his apartment?’