Secrets In Sydney: Sydney Harbour Hospital: Tom's Redemption. Fiona Lowe

rubbed his arm and swore at the offending fingers. He couldn’t deny it was happening more often—this loss of sensation that had him dropping things. Hell, he’d already had some time off and rested exactly as Rupert had suggested. He hated following instructions, but he’d done everything the neurosurgeon had suggested. On his return to work he’d cut back his surgery hours so he wasn’t standing for long periods. He’d taken up swimming, he’d even tried Pilates, which galled him, and none of it was working. He was still swallowing analgesia tablets like they were lollies and he refused to think about his Scotch intake.

      He ran his left hand over the back of his neck, locating the offending area between cervical vertebrae five and six. Wasn’t it enough that the bomb had killed Isaac, stealing his only brother from him? Apparently not. Its remnants now lingered with him way beyond the pain of grief. The blast that had knocked him sideways, rendering him unconscious, had jarred his neck so badly that the soft nucleus of the cushioning disc now bulged outwards, putting pressure on the spinal cord. That something so small could cause so much chaos was beyond ironic. It was sadistic and it threatened to steal from him the one thing that kept him getting up in the mornings. His reason for living. The one true thing that defined him.

      Surgery.

      So far he’d been lucky. So far he’d been able to survive without mishap the few times his weak arm and numb fingers had caused him to stumble in surgery. So far his patients hadn’t suffered at his unreliable hand and they wouldn’t because he now made sure he only operated with a registrar present.

      His gut sent up a fire river of acid and his chest constricted as the horrifying thought he’d long tried to keep at bay voiced itself in his head.

       How long can you really keep operating?

CHAPTER NINE

      HAYLEY was exhausted, but at least she was now warm. It always amazed her how therapeutic a hot shower could be. She’d finally got back to Tom’s place at eight p.m., after the SES guys had boarded up her windows and lashed a tarpaulin over her roof. She still couldn’t believe that ten minutes of freaky weather could wreak so much havoc. She smiled and hugged herself whenever she thought of how Tom had quietly and methodically organised things, including helping her neighbour, a single mother with a young baby. Thea had rushed in crying and he’d calmed her down, asked Hayley to make tea for everyone and had then made phone calls for her as well.

      Hayley knew that if she’d been on her own she would have made herself cope with everything, but having Tom deal with the SES and the insurance company while she busied herself with the practical clean-up had made it all much more bearable. They’d made a great team, but whenever she’d tried to tell him that and thank him, his mouth had flattened into a grimace and he’d brushed her appreciation aside. Oddly, he’d accepted Thea’s thanks with grace, which Hayley didn’t understand at all, and it had left her feeling disgruntled.

      Hunger had her quickly brushing her hair and padding out to the main living area, which was cloaked in darkness except for the glow of Tom’s computer screen. She automatically reached for the light switches and flicked them all on.

      Tom immediately turned toward her and smiled. ‘My light bill has plummeted since I went blind.’

      She jumped. ‘I’ll pay the electricity bill while I’m here.’

      He frowned. ‘I was making a joke, Hayley.’

      She forced out a laugh because as far as she was concerned the dark was nothing to joke about. She crossed the room and, with her heart racing, quickly closed the curtains. Despite the pretty twinkling lights, there was too much dark around them and it made her feel anxious. Shutting out the night was an evening ritual for her no matter where she was so she could bathe in the glow of artificial light and pretend it wasn’t dark at all.

      Her stomach rumbled and she said brightly, ‘Do you actually cook with that flash stainless-steel gas stove or is it just for decoration?’

      ‘Even with the lights on, can’t you enjoy the night view of the city lights?’

      The quietly asked question was tinged with surprise and it made her shiver. ‘Of course I can, but it’s cold tonight so I’m keeping the heat in.’ She sucked in a breath and rushed on. ‘Theo, at work, he’s been hammering us with sustainable living information and closing curtains at night cuts greenhouse gas emissions and saves you money. So, what are we doing about dinner? I’m starving.’