‘I know.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘It should be me they’re burying today.’
She dealt with death and all the horrible stuff with a black, wry humour that would offend some, but never him. Somehow, on not quite Harry’s worst day, but it was certainly there in the rankings, she made him smile.
It felt strange as everyone started to leave. The department was on bypass and quiet, but all morning it had been a hub of activity, a meeting centre. Abby’s tears had already started as everyone filed out to get into the cars and Harry put his arm around Abby and then patted his pockets.
‘Here,’ Marnie said, handing him a box of tissues from the bench, and then they were gone.
The department was eerily quiet. The locum was calm and efficient with the few patients they had but there was an immense sadness that simply wouldn’t abate. Every time Marnie looked at the clock or paused a moment she thought about that last conversation with Dr Vermont or wondered how Marjorie was faring.
Harry too.
For that morning, at least, the focus wasn’t on rosters or filling in shifts, it was on the huge loss—the tremendous gap that a wonderful man had left.
Staff started to arrive early in the afternoon and the staffroom filled with hospital personnel—those who had been to the funeral and those who hadn’t been able to get away for it.
‘How was it?’ Marnie asked Harry. He seemed beyond exhausted, but had that grim-faced look of just pushing through.
‘Awful.’ Harry wasn’t stopping. ‘I just came in to drop some supplies off. Marjorie asked me to take some of the food from the wake for everyone here. I told her it had all been catered but she wanted to contribute to it too. Can you help me get some stuff out of the car?’
‘Sure.’
‘Where are the twins today?’ Marnie asked, as they walked out into the sunshine on what would normally feel a glorious day.
‘At Cathy’s till this evening.’ There were mountains of food, tray after tray of sandwiches and boxes of drinks, and they ended up loading one of the gurneys and covering it with a sheet before pushing it through the department and round to the staffroom.
‘So, this is your last day?’ Marnie asked.
‘It has to be,’ Harry said, as they unloaded the food and set up. ‘Cathy’s had to take this week off work.’ He didn’t want to think about it now—for the most part, they had Friday and the weekend covered.
‘You go home, Marnie.’ Miriam, back from the funeral, her eyes red rimmed, took over unloading the boxes. ‘You must be exhausted. I hope you’re not driving.’
‘No.’ Marnie shook her head. ‘I’m taking a taxi.’
‘I’ll drive you,’ Harry said.
‘Shouldn’t you stay for a bit…?’ Marnie started, and then stopped. After all, it was the story of Harry’s life at the moment and the reason he had no option but to quit his job.
‘They’re talking about building an extension in his name,’ Harry said. As they walked to his car, Marnie was shivering again. ‘The Vermont Wing.’
‘That would be nice.’
‘Well, there won’t be a Worthington Wing.’
‘Just as well,’ Marnie said as they climbed into his car. ‘Try getting your lips around that after a night shift.’
Harry actually laughed. ‘Beach Road?’ he said, because he remembered everything she had ever told him.
‘The dodgy end.’ Marnie smiled.
‘I can’t believe he won’t get to retire,’ Harry said as they drove out of the hospital. His phone was bleeping away but he just ignored it. ‘Though he’d have hated retirement—even Marjorie said as much—he loved that place.’
‘You do too.’
Emotional blackmail wasn’t going to work on Harry. He never took his eyes off the road. ‘I love my kids. I need to put them first. Charlotte’s becoming more precocious by the minute, Adam…’ He liked it that she didn’t push things, just waited as he voiced a potential problem that he hadn’t discussed with anyone. ‘I think he’s got a speech delay.’ His knuckles were white on the wheel. ‘I’ve been thinking it for months and I haven’t even had time to do a thing about it.’
‘Looks like I’ll be ringing Juan to come back from his honeymoon, then.’
‘You really aren’t romantic?’
‘Not at all,’ Marnie said. ‘Men always have to complicate things.’ She watched as Harry’s tense mouth curved into a smile—his problem was the same, but with women, of course. ‘They say they want an independent woman,’ Marnie continued. ‘They insist they do but then they get all misty-eyed and start to ask strange things like could I possibly iron a shirt? Or they think that just because you had sex last night it means you’re going to be overtaken by this sudden urge to cook for them…’
Harry laughed, really laughed, for the first time since he’d taken the call about Dr Vermont. It wasn’t the safest conversation to be having right now. He turned and glanced at her. There was a smile on her lips as she looked out of the window, a smile that told him she knew she was flirting. His phone bleeped again. Harry went to get it, but seeing cyclists up ahead knew better than to risk it, but he was worried that it might be work. ‘Can you get it out my pocket?’
She most certainly could.
Harry was used to making strange requests such as that one, used to concentrating on stitching, or something similar, as someone found his phone and held it for him to speak into. He could feel her bony fingers against his chest as her hand slipped inside his jacket and Marnie could feel the heat from his skin through his shirt.
‘Mind on the road, Harry,’ Marnie said, and he smiled. The air was almost crackling between them. ‘You’ve a text from Cathy.’
‘Which means Charlotte,’ Harry translated. ‘At least it isn’t work.’
‘What you need,’ Marnie said, ‘is a wife.’
‘I’ve got one,’ Harry said, and in a gesture that certainly wasn’t insolent—in fact, for Marnie it was the nicest thing he could have done—Harry held up his ring finger.
‘I know,’ Marnie said, because she did know. She had a son. It didn’t go away because time had passed.
He pulled up at her house and opened up the message.
‘So that’s that, then,’ Harry said as he read it.
‘Sorry?’
‘I wasn’t going to say anything but I was hoping that I might be able to juggle things next week—the incubation period is just about up and there was this tiny window of possibility that the twins could go back to day care on Monday…’ He gave a wry laugh as he read out the text. ‘Charlotte has spots—don’t worry, right now she’s delighted.’
‘Poor Atlas,’ Marnie said as she watched the load he was carrying drop just a touch heavier on his shoulders. She looked at his profile and knew she’d miss him.
A lot.
‘Do you need to get back?’
‘I’ll call her,’ Harry said. ‘And see how she is.’ Except his phone battery was almost flat. ‘Can I use yours?’
‘Sure.’ She went to go in her bag to get it but changed her mind. ‘Use the landline.’
‘Marnie…’ Harry started, and then changed his mind. ‘Sure, a coffee would be great.’ It was a long drive to his sister’s after all.
But