It couldn’t be more different from the small, cosy, modern home he and Rosie had shared. That one had been like her; everything had had its place and the colour schemes had been perfect, the neat gardens with their carefully spaced plants drawing passers-by to lean over the fence in admiration. While this place—it was more like him. Out of sync.
No. Molly doesn’t need something like this.
He didn’t need Molly in his space. It wouldn’t remain a tranquil place to go when the world got on top of him if temptation came to live in the attached flat.
Occasionally he had tenants for short periods, usually medical personnel moving to Sydney General from out of town who needed temporary accommodation while they got somewhere more permanent sorted. He liked it when people moved in, and he was equally happy when they left again. Easy come, easy go. It was a waste having the flat going empty, and occasionally he’d thought of asking around work to see if anyone wanted to rent it permanently, but then he’d got cold feet. What if they didn’t get on? Or if the noise level increased? Or if he plain wanted his whole house to himself?
The flat’s more spacious than Molly’s apartment.
Molly wouldn’t be noisy or intrusive. They did argue quite often. But today he’d learned they could get along just fine.
But he’d find it very difficult to ask her to leave if the day came where he wanted to be alone.
Far safer for him to leave things as they stood.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘YOU ALL RIGHT?’ Nathan asked from the other side of the counter in the department’s central hub where Molly was supposed to be writing up patient notes. Her head was so messed up with this new awareness of Nathan and wondering what he was doing that she hadn’t seen him approaching.
‘Couldn’t be better,’ she lied. ‘I managed some sleep after my run.’ It was true, though her kip had been filled with dreams of being held in Nathan’s arms while she drove his car. Why were dreams so ridiculous? On all counts? ‘What about you?’
He grimaced. ‘I managed an hour before going to the airport, and then a couple more after an early dinner.’
That explained the shadows beneath his eyes. ‘It goes with the territory.’ Night shifts played havoc with sleep patterns.
‘At least next week I’m on three to eleven. Back to...’ he flicked his fingers in the air ‘...normal.’
‘Me, too.’ She glanced at the clipboard in his hand. ‘You seeing Colin Montgomery next?’
His thick, brown-blond hair tumbled over his forehead as he nodded. ‘I see he’s got history of arrhythmia and is presenting with palpitations and chest pain.’
Molly followed him to their seventy-one-year-old patient and immediately noted down Colin’s pulse and other obs. ‘Did anyone come with you to the hospital?’
Colin shook his head. ‘I’ve lived alone since my wife died two years ago.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. What about other family?’ There was nothing in the notes about relatives to contact.
He blinked, and his mouth drooped. ‘My son and I haven’t spoken in years. Last I heard he lives somewhere in Brisbane.’
‘How long have you had arrhythmia?’ Nathan read the heart-monitor printout and asked pertinent questions.
‘Twelve months, give or take.’
‘When did the pain start?’
‘Around eleven. When it didn’t ease off I phoned for an ambulance. I hope I’m not wasting everyone’s time. It’s very busy in here.’
‘A typical Friday night,’ Molly assured him.
‘Never think you’re wasting our time. With your known condition, it’s always best we check you out.’ Nathan listened to his chest through a stethoscope. ‘You’re on warfarin. How steady are your test results?’
‘Usually my bleeding times stay within the allowable range. Prothrombin, isn’t it?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘But last week the test ran really high and I had to have the test every day until the results returned to normal.’
‘Although that’s not normal for people not on the drug, it is within the required range for someone taking the anticoagulant drug,’ Nathan explained.
Colin looked worried. ‘Isn’t that dangerous?’
‘It’s what’s preventing you having a stroke. That must’ve been explained when you first started taking it.’
Colin looked sheepish. ‘It probably was, but at the time I was too worried about everything, and not being medically minded just accepted that I needed to take the warfarin to stay alive. I could’ve gone on the internet to find out more but I’d have confused myself further.’
‘Relax. You’re not the first to react that way, and you won’t be the last.’ Nathan locked a steady gaze on his patient. ‘I’m referring you to Cardiology so they can run more tests to find out what’s going on with this pain and that spike in your prothrombin results.’
‘Better safe than sorry?’ Colin enquired, his worry-filled eyes glued on his doctor.
Nathan calmed him with his straightforward manner. ‘I don’t believe there’s a major problem but I’d prefer you spent at least the rest of tonight in the hospital, where you can be monitored and not at home alone, worrying about what might or might not be going on inside your chest.’ He was good. ‘That’d only raise your blood pressure, which we don’t want happening.’
Colin relaxed more with every sentence.
While Nathan called Cardiology, Molly went to check on eight-year-old Ollie Brown, who’d fallen out of his bunk and broken an arm. ‘Hey, young man, how’s that head?’ There was concern he’d got a concussion as well and a scan had been ordered.
‘Hurts like stink.’ Ollie grinned.
The grin vanished as his grandfather snapped, ‘You’re not on the farm now, lad.’
Molly chuckled. ‘So you’re a country guy? What are you doing in the middle of Sydney, then?’ She wanted to observe Ollie for signs of confusion or amnesia.
‘It’s the school holidays,’ Ollie said, as though she was the dumbest woman out. ‘Granddad always lets us come to stay so we can do townie things, like go on the ferries and eat take-out food and stuff.’ There was nothing wrong with his coherence.
‘You forgot to mention that fighting with your brother was why you fell out of the blasted bunk in the first place.’ The granddad scowled, but there was a load of love in his rheumy eyes.
‘Connor started it.’
‘You know better than to let him rile you, lad.’
Molly clapped her hands. ‘Okay, guys, the orderly is on his way down to take you for the scan, Ollie. Mr Brown, you can go with him, if you’d like.’
Mr Brown nodded. ‘Someone’s got to keep an eye on the young pup.’
Before Ollie could say anything, Molly cut in, ‘I’ll be here when you get back. Then the doctor will decide if you can leave.’
Suddenly the bright, brave eight-year-old slumped and looked at his grandfather. ‘I don’t want to stay here. I want to go home.’