‘Yeah. It was bad.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘And there’s nothing like lying in a strange hospital thinking you’re facing death for making you look at life. Or what you’ve been calling life.’
‘You had radiotherapy?’
‘And chemotherapy.’ Luke dug his hands deep in his pockets and turned away. ‘The X-rays and CT scan were clear, thank God. The glands in the neck were the only ones affected, but the night sweats made me stage 1B instead of stage 1A. Hence they gave me the works.’
Nikki nodded. The appearance of a single tumour would usually be treated just by radiotherapy. The night sweats would mean chemotherapy, though. Involuntarily her eyes went to Luke’s shock of blond hair and he caught her look as he turned back to face her.
‘It’s grown back nicely,’ he said grimly, touching his hair. ‘That’s the least of the side-effects.’
Nikki nodded sympathetically. ‘But you’ve been in remission now for…?’
‘For close on two years.’
‘But that means there’s every chance you’re cured. The cure-rate for Hodgkin’s is…’
‘Over seventy per cent if it’s caught at stage one. I know, Dr Russell; believe me, I know.’
‘Well, then.’ Nikki took a deep breath. ‘Well, then, why aren’t you getting on with life again?’
‘I am.’
‘By running?’
‘I’m not running.’
‘So what are you doing here? Isn’t your career centred on the city? You’ll never get anywhere doing three-week locums.’
He shook his head. ‘On the contrary, Dr Russell. I’ll never get anywhere by being a successful city surgeon.’ He touched her hair lightly with his finger. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, Dr Russell, your locum is going to bed.’
To bed but not to sleep.
Nikki lay for hours watching the light of the full moon gradually move across her ceiling. The big ceiling fan whirred lazily, mesmerically, over her head. Usually it soothed her to sleep, but not tonight.
Hodgkin’s disease…The prognosis ran around Nikki’s tired mind as though she were being examined tomorrow. Even with the added symptom of night sweats, Luke’s prognosis was good. If he’d been in remission for two years he was nearly out of danger. Nearly…
And then something hit her tired mind, making her sit up in bed and turn on her light. Hodgkin’s disease…Treatment…
Was she right? Suddenly it was imperative that she know, and know right now. Now…
Padding softly through the darkened house, she found the text she wanted and returned to bed. Where was it…? Treatment of Hodgkin’s…Diagnosis… Management…Chemotherapy…
What regime had they used? Nikki flicked the pages over, missing what she wanted in her urgency and having to return.
There were two chemotherapy regimes listed. The first was MOPP…Nikki stared blankly at the printed page. ‘MOPP is associated with significant toxicity including infertility…MOPP therapy produces nearuniversal sterility in males…’
MOPP wasn’t warranted, though. Not for stage 1B. The lesser regime was ABVD: ‘Adriamycin, bleomycin, vinblastine and dacarbazine…Reduced risk of sterility…Recommended in stage 1B…’
Surely they’d used ABVD and not MOPP?
Even so…Even so, there was a strong chance that Luke Marriott was now sterile-that he would no longer be able to father children.
How would such an outcome hit a man who exuded masculinity as Luke Marriott did? To know that he could never father a child…
It was all just too hard. There was too much going on in Nikki’s tired mind for her to assess what she had been told. Somehow her eyes managed to close and she fell into a troubled, dream-filled sleep.
She woke to laughter.
Nikki stirred, her eyes moving automatically to her bedside clock. It was close on seven, later than she usually woke, but in her exhausted, troubled state the night before she had not set the alarm.
The laughter sounded again, the high, tinkling sound of Amy having fun. For a moment Nikki frowned, thinking how rarely she had heard that sound lately. Why?
And then she heard a splash, and Nikki rose to her feet before she was aware she was doing so, her feet flying to the door. Amy wasn’t allowed in the pool by herself. She knew the rules. It wasn’t safe…She flung open the French windows, stepped through into the soft, morning sunlight, and stopped dead.
Amy wasn’t alone in the pool. Luke Marriott was there too, his arms holding the laughing little girl high above the water and then swooping her down like a bird, so that her body flitted through the water and then swept up again, showering the man beneath her with sunlit water.
‘Do it again,’ Amy screamed. ‘Do it again.’ And Luke obliged, laughing with her.
Was this her daughter? Nikki put her hand to her eyes as if to rub the shreds of dreaming from them. Amy was a serious, grave little girl who seldom laughed. She took her life seriously, did Amy.
Or maybe that wasn’t true. As Amy had been brought up in a house with an elderly housekeeper and a mother who distrusted the world, maybe there just weren’t enough opportunities for laughter.
Amy looked up then and saw her mother. ‘Look at me,’ she screamed happily. ‘Look at me, Mummy. Dr Luke’s teaching me to dive. Look at me dive. Do it again, Dr Luke.’
Luke Marriott looked up at Nikki, his eyes quizzing her dangerously. ‘Maybe your mummy had better go put on her swimming costume and join us. She’d be more respectable that way.’
With a gasp Nikki looked down. Her nightgown was a short, soft cotton one that was years old, and its age meant that it was almost transparently thin. And the sun was behind her! She put her hands up to cover her breasts and backed away.
‘Mummy, do come in.’ Amy’s voice pleaded with her. ‘Please, Mummy. We’re having a really, really lot of fun.’
‘Amy, I have to work,’ Nikki said uncertainly. ‘You and Luke are enjoying yourselves without me.’
‘I always enjoy myself without you,’ Amy said sadly. ‘But if Dr Luke is here too…’
Oh, help…The tiny niggle of guilt which her daughter’s laughter caused now rose to overwhelm her. ‘I always enjoy myself without you’…
They were both watching her now-man and child. Amy was nestled in Luke’s arms as though she belonged. She watched her mother with eyes that expected to be rebuffed. Luke’s eyes gave away nothing.
‘OK.’ Nikki swallowed. ‘I’ll come in.’
She was rewarded instantly with Amy’s whoop of joy. ‘Yes!’ she yelled. ‘Mummy’s coming in. Mummy’s coming in! Hurry, Mummy. The water’s beeyoootiful…’ She arched back and plummeted her small body downwards, under water, and emerged, choking and laughing. ‘We’ll get Mummy in, won’t we, Dr Luke?’
‘It’s your Mummy’s decision,’ Luke grinned. ‘We have nothing to do with it.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ Nikki said to herself grimly, stalking in to find her bathing costume. This place had been sane before Luke Marriott arrived. The man was turning their lives upside-down.
Five minutes in the pool, she promised herself. A token to appease Amy. And then work!
Only of course it wasn’t five minutes.
The morning sun was hot by the time Nikki slipped self-consciously into the water, and the water was a balm to her tired body. She had slept badly and was thick with bad dreams and self-doubt. Somehow the sun and the water and her daughter’s laughter dispelled the black cloud. Luke was teaching Amy dead man’s float, taking his duty very seriously. Nikki floated aimlessly on her back, watching man and child enjoy each other.
This was what Scott should be doing. Enjoying his daughter. Loving his daughter. Instead of which… She had written to him, but Scott had never even acknowledged that his little girl existed.
It was a bitter thought, but this morning it didn’t seem as bitter as it usually did. Somehow the sting was eased.
Because Luke was here? The thought drifted around Nikki’s mind as she floated, and she had to acknowledge that while Luke was here she had no place in her mind for Scott. For the first time Scott’s face blurred in her mind, as though the memory was fading. The laughing eyes…the mocking smile. Where were they?