CHAPTER NINE

SOMEHOW, while Hugo helped Rachel put her belongings together and practically force-fed her toast and arranged for someone to drive her…somehow he got it out of her.

‘Craig and I were in a car smash eight years ago,’ she said, her voice laced with pain. ‘We were med students together. We’d gone out together since school. Dottie, Craig’s mum, is practically my mum. We were so close. We got married and everything was perfect and then some drunk driver smashed into us on a blind bend when we were coming home from one of Craig’s football matches. The drunk was on the wrong side of the road and there was nothing Craig could do to avoid him. I was hurt. Craig… Craig was hardly touched. Except for a blow to his head. One blow. One blow and he was unconscious. And he never woke up.’ Her voice broke on a sob and Hugo held her mug of tea to lips that were tight with the shock of past hurt and hurt still to come.

‘So Michael… The guy at the dog show?’

‘He’s a schmuck,’ she said. ‘Dottie said I should get away. Have some fun. And I met you.’

He took a deep breath. Did some fast thinking. Last night he’d made love to a woman he’d thought was in an unhappy marriage. Now…

Things had changed. She’d changed.

And his head… He was having trouble getting it around this.

But the pain on her face was real and dreadful and it needed to be addressed now.

‘Rachel, I’m really sorry.’

She pulled herself together then. Sort of. ‘Sorry? I’m not.’ She gave him a fleeting, hurting smile. ‘How could I be sorry for last night? It was the most wonderful…’ Her voice broke, but she managed to go on. ‘Hugo, it was fantastic. The best. I could never, ever regret it. But you do see that I need to go.’

‘Of course you do.’ It tore him apart that he couldn’t put her in his car and drive her to Sydney himself but, of course, he couldn’t. The town still had medical imperatives.

At least the road was open. Rain in the night had cleared the route out of town. He’d put out a call and someone would drive her all the way to Melbourne. He could arrange that at least.

But he couldn’t leave.

‘Rachel…’

‘I know.’ She swallowed the last of her tea and stood, looking down into the dregs at the bottom of the mug. ‘I know. I’m sorry, Hugo. I’m sorry, love…’


Hugo worked for that day-long hours of minor crises. He worked the next. The day after that…

The day after that he could bear it no longer. He talked to Myra and to Toby, contacted a locum service and found some help and went to town.


The thin blue line rose and fell. Rose and fell. Rose and fell.

How long does love last?

The young woman sat and watched as she’d sat and watched for years.

‘I love you, Craig,’ she whispered, but there was no answer, as there’d never been an answer.

Dappled sunlight fell over lifeless fingers. Beloved eyes, once so full of life and laughter, stayed closed.

The blue line rose and fell. Rose and fell.

Faltered.

‘I love you, Craig,’ she whispered again, and blessed his face with her fingers. ‘My love…’

How long does love last?

Maybe for no longer than a breath?


Hugo stood at the ward door and watched Rachel. She was sleeping. Her bright curls were tangled on the white coverlet. Her hand held his. Her face rested on his chest.

Hugo’s eyes moved to the monitor and stilled. The heartbeat was fast and irregular. He watched.

He’d learned so much over the last few days. Questions that should have been asked of Rachel had been answered by the consultant he’d called.

‘Eight years in a coma. He was a strong young man, Hugo, with nothing but a bleed into the brain to maim him. We thought he could live even longer than this. There’s been no end in sight. But a few months ago he suffered a clot…’

‘Deep vein thrombosis?’

‘You know it’s not uncommon in cases like this. The body’s so inactive… We thought maybe we’d lose him then. I think his parents and Rachel said their goodbyes. But he rallied. And Rachel went on waiting.’

‘Rachel…’

‘I’ve known Rachel since she was a medical student,’ the consultant said bluntly. ‘She and Craig were a great pair-lovely creatures with the world at their feet. Since the accident it’s as if someone’s blown Rachel’s flame out. She’s clever, she’s an extraordinary doctor but every night she sits by Craig’s bedside and she simply…well, she simply is.’

‘She must have loved him.’

‘It’s so hard to move forward,’ the consultant said gently. ‘Without a death. Dottie and Lewis, Craig’s parents, well, after the clot they seemed to let go. They pushed Rachel. She was making the first tentative steps. And now… The clots have reappeared. One’s sitting in his lung. This is the end, Hugo. The end of a very long story.’

So now Hugo stood at the door and watched her. He simply…watched her.

As she’d watched Craig for all these years.

With all the love in her heart.


She’d gone for coffee.

It had been one hell of a day. The emotions in Rachel’s tired mind were threatening to overwhelm her. How could this happen? While she was falling in love-for the second time-her first love was deciding to slip away from this world.

She didn’t feel guilty. She couldn’t. How could she? In a sense it was because of Craig that she’d fallen so heavily for Hugo. The love she felt for both men was mixed up, intertwined.

Because she loved Hugo, her love for Craig couldn’t die, regardless of what happened to the man in the bed. The man she’d loved for ever.

But she couldn’t think of Hugo now. He was still there in the background-a warmth and a joy in the back of her mind, a vast tenderness that filled the cold and the emptiness that had been with her for so long.

But for now there was only Craig. His breathing had become shallow. There was a pneumonia that wouldn’t clear. It was his time.

Time to let go.

She filled her coffee-mug in the relatives’ kitchenette at the end of the ward and walked slowly back to the small room where Craig lay by himself. And stopped short in the doorway.

Hugo was there. Hugo was sitting in the chair beside Craig’s bed and he was speaking.

‘Mate, I have no idea whether you can hear me. The jury’s out on brain injury-on this dying business. How much you know. How much you can sense. But I figured…the way I felt I had to come. I had to talk to you. You have the right.’

Rachel stepped back. He hadn’t heard her return. She leaned against the wall of the corridor and she closed her eyes. And listened while Hugo spoke to Craig.

While one love spoke to another.

‘I don’t know how much Rachel has told you, but I’m Hugo McInnes. I’m a country family doctor. I’m a widower, with a kid and a dog, and I’m thirty-five years old. And I’m in love with your wife.’

And I’m in love with your wife. It was such a bold statement that Rachel drew in her breath. She swallowed. And she waited.

‘It sounds pretty dreadful, doesn’t it?’ Hugo said, and paused. ‘I never thought I’d say that to someone I think of as a friend. That I’m in love with your wife. But maybe it’s because that’s the way I think of you that I can say it. As a friend.’

There was a long pause then. Out in the corridor Rachel set her coffee-mug down on the floor. Her fingers were trembling. A couple of nurses walked past and looked at her in concern but she waved them on.

He’d come…

‘Craig, you and Rachel have loved each other for a long time. I know that.’ Hugo’s voice was soft but pervasive, reaching where she strained to hear. ‘I know that. I can see it in Rachel’s eyes. I can see how deep your love was. After all this time…part of Rachel is you. Well, now I’ve fallen for her-fallen for her in a big way, maybe as hard as you ever fell. But, of course, it’s different. I’m not loving a girl straight out of school. I’m loving a woman who’s been loved before-who’s loved before. Who’s become what she is because some guy a long time ago made her smile. Lit up her world. Took her in his arms and loved her and made her feel that anything was possible when love was around.’

Hugo hesitated, as though finding difficulty in finding words. The right words. But somehow he kept going.

‘I’ve never felt like that,’ he said at last. ‘I drifted into a marriage that was a bit of a disaster. My wife died and that made me feel even more self-contained. Like love-married love-was something you read about in romance novels. Not something that changed the world. Only then I met Rachel.’

Another silence. Then…

‘She’s really something,’ he whispered. ‘She’s the best. You and Rachel must have been amazing. And what Rachel’s grown to be…because of you…

‘You know,’ he said, his voice still soft, ‘that’s why I’m here. To tell you that you’re a part of Rachel. And because of that… I guess you’ll be a part of our family. You’ll be with us. You’ll live on.’

Rachel’s eyes were filling with tears. She lifted a finger and wiped them away but more followed. Still he spoke.

‘It sounds corny, doesn’t it?’ Hugo was saying ruefully. ‘Lives on for ever in our hearts. It’s true, though. I’ve finally figured this love thing out. The more you have the more you seem to get. The more you give, the more it grows around you. Because you loved Rachel and she loved you…she’s reached out and she’s enveloped us. Me. My kid-did I tell you that? I have a six-year-old called Toby who thinks your Rachel is the best thing since sliced bread. Rachel’s promised to teach him to kick a football. She says you taught her that. Your football…living on in my kid.

‘And there’s more.’ He was smiling. Rachel could hear it in his voice. ‘We have a couple of dogs. Digger-he’s mine. He’s a mutt. And there’s Penelope. She belonged to some creep we met and didn’t like. I’m about to give the guy an offer he can’t refuse because our family’s too small. We need at least two dogs. We have another-Pudge-who’s staying with us while someone else we know and love recovers from an injury. There’ll be more. Rachel is the sort of woman who’ll keep an open door to strays, and I’m with her there. And there’ll be kids.’

Rachel drew her breath in at that. The tears dried. She was smiling. Stupidly she was grinning. The nurses passed her again and she grinned at them like a fool and they looked at her like she was demented.

It didn’t matter. What had he said?

How could she forget? There’ll be kids.

‘We’ll have babies,’ Hugo said softly. ‘At least, I hope like hell we’ll have babies. I haven’t actually discussed this with Rachel yet but, hey, this is the equivalent of girls’ talk with a bloke. We can say anything in here, right? Right. Well, having babies… Before Toby was born I thought one was enough, but he’s twisted himself round my heart like you wouldn’t believe. And if it was Rachel’s kid… Your kid…’

Out in the corridor Rachel drew in her breath once again.

‘You see, there’s the thing,’ Hugo said apologetically. ‘Because if we have another kid then I’m going to be thinking that he, or she, is part of you. Any baby we have would seem your gift to us. You’ve given me the gift of love. The gift of Rachel. I’ll never forget it, mate. I’ll never forget you. You’ll be held in our family in all honour. If we have a boy then there’s no doubt what he’ll be called. I’m not sure how we can swing Craig into a girl’s name…’ Rachel heard the smile in his voice. ‘Maybe we’ll just have to keep on trying until we get a boy. It’d be fine with me. As long as it’s fine by you.’

Rachel’s eyes were closed. The emotions surging around her heart were threatening to overwhelm her. She leaned hard against the wall-she needed its support to stop herself falling over. It seemed as if the whole world had stopped breathing. The silence went on for ever. And then…

‘Well, that’s all I wanted to say,’ Hugo murmured. ‘I needed to get that off my chest. You’ve got things to do. Breathing to concentrate on.’ Rachel peeped forward and saw Hugo’s hand lift Craig’s and hold it. Two big hands, men’s hands, intertwined. It was all she could do not to cry out at the sight of it. Her breathing started again, ragged and filled with tears.

‘And you have dying to face,’ Hugo whispered. ‘I’m sorry, mate, that you can’t live. I’m that damned sorry-and if giving up Rachel’s love would bring you back to us I’d do it in a minute. But the guys in consultant suits are telling me it won’t happen. So I’ll say goodbye. I’ll leave you to your parents and to Rachel. But know… Know, mate, that in our house-in any home that I’m lucky enough to build and share with your wife-you’ll be honoured and you’ll be loved for ever.’


It was five minutes before Hugo left the ward. When he came out into the corridor there was no one to be seen.

Just a mug of cold coffee lying abandoned on the polished floor.

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