Carol Marinelli
CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’.
Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation and, after chewing on her pen for a moment, Carol put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked, ‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!
‘You need to get back out there, Cort.’
‘Leave it, Elise.’
‘I won’t leave it,’ his sister said.
‘Beth’s only been dead for a month—do you really think it appropriate that I start getting “back out there”?’
And on anyone else his argument would have worked, but his sister was too matter-of-fact, and had been there through it all, and would not be swayed.
‘You’ve been grieving for her for years,’ Elise said. ‘You mourned Beth long, long, long before she died.’
‘So now I should suddenly start partying?’
‘You’ve never partied in your life.’ Elise grinned at her rather serious older brother. ‘So, no, I don’t expect you to start at thirty-two.’ Elise had come here not just to see how her brother was doing since Beth’s death but with intention too, and she was determined to see this conversation through. ‘But there is more to life than work. You need to start going out a bit, do something you haven’t done before, try new things …’
Cort knew she was right—had it been Elise in his position he’d have said exactly the same, except he just didn’t know how to start. Cort had moved back to Sydney three years ago and had chosen not to tell his colleagues about his other life in Melbourne. He had moved back to Sydney to get away from the endless questions from colleagues, and pointless platitudes that did nothing to help.
The last years had been spent working in Sydney and then travelling back to Melbourne on his days off to sit in a nursing home and watch a woman who had once been so educated, so dignified, dribble her food and strip naked at whim. He had watched endless seizures erode what had been left of her brain and, yes, Elise was right—bit by bit, over these past years he had mourned.
‘Say yes.’ Elise drained her glass and bade her brother goodnight.
‘Say yes to what?’ Cort asked.
‘Just say yes next time someone suggests something.’
‘Sure,’ Cort said with absolutely no intention of doing so.
‘For Beth,’ Elise said as she headed to his apartment door. ‘She’d hate both your lives to have been cut short that night.’
She was right.
Cort knew that. He crossed his apartment and could hear the ocean from the open French doors, but he closed them to shut out the roar and the noise, and the room fell silent. Not just from the sound of the ocean but from the roar and the noise in his head. Beth was gone.
‘ARE you free to give me a hand in the suture room?’ Cort Mason, the senior emergency registrar, asked, and Ruby swung around. ‘It might take a while, though.’
Ruby jumped down from the footstool she was perched on while restocking the cupboard and turned to the voice that was aimed in her direction. She decided that she’d be delighted to give him a hand.
It had nothing to do with the fact he was gorgeous.
Really, it had completely nothing to do with it.
She just wanted an empty Resus before it filled again, which it inevitably would. Sheila, the NUM, had told her to stay in there today, that this was her area, but with a senior registrar asking for her to assist with a patient, well, surely she had no choice in the matter?
None.
‘I’d be happy to.’ Ruby beamed, except her smile wasn’t returned. In fact, he wasn’t even waiting for her response. Already Cort had walked off and was heading into the suture room, rightly perhaps assuming that a student nurse wasn’t likely to say no to his request for assistance.
‘Mr Mason has asked if I can give him a hand.’ Ruby let Connor, the RN in charge of Resus, know where she was going. ‘Is that okay?’
‘Sure,’ Connor said. ‘It’s not as if we’re