The Pregnant Registrar. Carol Marinelli

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СКАЧАТЬ the money goes to a good cause.’

      ‘It’s a bloody rip-off.”

      He thought she was joking. Looking up, she watched him laugh, waiting for her to pull out her cheque book, to sign herself up for taxi fare both ways and a maternity ballgown that would make the ticket price pale into comparison, but for the first time in her adult life Lydia couldn’t do it, couldn’t write a cheque for the sake of it, couldn’t rob Peter to pay Paul. Suddenly money mattered when it never had before.

      ‘I’ll let you know.’ Frowning into the telephone, Lydia turned away but still he persisted.

      ‘You’re not working.’ Corey grinned. ‘I’ve checked, so there’s no excuse.’

      ‘How about this for an excuse?’ Swinging her chair around, Lydia met him face on, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at having to admit the appalling truth, her voice too harsh, too sharp as she choked on the pride she was being forced to swallow yet again. ‘For someone who’s so up on the price of orange juice, for someone who checks their change three times before moving off from the checkout, you’re terribly careless where other people’s money is concerned.

      ‘Did it never occur to you that just because I’m a registrar, just because I’m supposedly affluent and raking it in—maybe that isn’t the case?’ She watched his eyes widen, watched as he attempted to beg to differ, but Lydia was on a roll now. ‘Would you be quite so accepting if your wife strolled home with a two-hundred-dollar ticket in her hand?’

      ‘I don’t have a wife.’ Corey shrugged.

      ‘Well, girlfriend, then,’ Lydia snapped. ‘The poor woman’s received a five-minute lecture into the variances of orange juice prices and she has to show you her cashier’s receipt, yet you don’t bat an eyelid when it’s a co-worker’s money you’re spending!’

      Suddenly the temperature seemed to have dropped, suddenly the usually stifling nurses’ station seemed to be taking on arctic proportions. As she watched his face darken Lydia knew she’d gone way too far. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘That was way below the belt.’

      ‘It was,’ Corey agreed grimly, and Lydia shifted uncomfortably as he carried on talking. ‘Adele’s not my wife and neither do I have a girlfriend or a son.’ He watched her frown, watched her squirm for an uncomfortable second before continuing.

      ‘Adele’s my sister, Bailey’s my nephew, and for your information I personally couldn’t give a damn about the price of orange juice, but given the fact my sister was involved in a car accident two years ago and she has changed from an eloquent, educated woman into someone with the personality of an errant teenager, it seems rather more fitting to show her that ten dollars can be spent on staples like bread and orange juice rather than a basket full of crisps and bubble gum or cheap wine and cigarettes.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’ Lydia’s voice was a faint whisper. ‘I’m so very sorry.’

      ‘Not as sorry as I am,’ Corey responded curtly, and picking up his stethoscope he shot her a black look before stalking off to his office. She was vaguely aware of a voice on the telephone line, vaguely aware of someone asking how they could help, but mumbling her apologies Lydia hung up the telephone, appalled at what she had done and desperate if not to put things right exactly to at least make some sort of amends.

      Knocking on his office door, she neither expected nor received a response. Pushing the door open, she stood for a hesitant moment watching as Corey scribbled furiously on the paperwork in front of him, determinedly not looking up. Lydia rather less determinedly moved the pile of folders herself this time and, after making sure the door was firmly closed behind her, tentatively sat down.

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘So you said.’

      ‘I’d like to explain something—’

      ‘There’s really no need,’ Corey cut in, fixing her with a most withering glare.

      ‘But there is.’ Dragging her eyes down, Lydia went to fiddle with the solid gold band around her wedding finger, as she did when she was nervous, but like everything else familiar to her it wasn’t there. ‘What I said out there was wrong. Whether Adele is your sister, wife or girlfriend, I had absolutely no right to pass judgement on you, no right to infer you were mean.’ She was tying her fingers in knots now. ‘Which you’re not, of course, but even if you were, even if you do care about the price of loo rolls…’

      ‘We were in the soft-drink section,’ Corey pointed out, and if she’d looked up at that point she’d have been rewarded with a ghost of a smile. ‘Where do loo rolls come into it?’

      ‘They don’t.’ Her eyes did meet his then, briefly, awkwardly and she immediately pulled them away. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I was way out of line.’

      ‘You were,’ Corey agreed, but more gently this time. ‘But I was probably being overly sensitive.’ Those massive shoulders moved downwards as he gave a ragged sigh, and Lydia saw the lines of concern grooved around his eyes. ‘There’s a lot going on there.’

      ‘With Adele?’

      Corey nodded. ‘She was a lawyer. Hard to believe it now, but she was the epitome of sophistication. Somehow she and Luke made it all look so damn easy.’

      ‘Luke’s her husband?’ Lydia checked, wincing when Corey continued.

      ‘Was. He was killed in the car accident. Adele was in a coma for six weeks. We were so close to making that awful decision—to discontinue treatment. She was so sick and there really seemed no hope.’

      ‘But look how well she’s done,’ Lydia said optimistically, her voice trailing off as Corey shook his head.

      ‘She suffered massive brain injuries—she’s got frontal lobe damage, which means no inhibitions and no responsibility for her actions. Sometimes I wonder if we did the right thing.’ Strained eyes met hers. ‘You’ve seen Bailey. No doubt you think the kid needs a good smack, to be disciplined…’

      Lydia shook her head, but her blush gave her away.

      ‘You wouldn’t be alone,’ Corey said sadly. ‘Bailey was in the accident as well. He’s undergoing a load of tests, they’re not sure if he suffered brain damage himself or if he’s got attention deficit disorder. His paediatrician has even started to suggest autism.’

      ‘What do you think?’ Lydia asked, hearing the doubt in his voice.

      ‘I think it’s a rather more basic problem.’

      ‘Such as?’ The room was deathly quiet now and it took an age for him to answer.

      ‘Neglect,’ Corey said finally. ‘I’ve made so many excuses for her, rushed over there to clean up before the social worker comes, filled up her fridge with healthy food. I go round every night or morning and bath him, cut his toenails, clean his ears, all the things Adele wouldn’t even think of doing, but…’

      ‘It’s not enough?’ Lydia ventured, watching as Corey shook his head sadly.

      ‘I don’t know what to do,’ Corey admitted. ‘So if I jumped down your throat out there, it was with reason.’

      ‘You СКАЧАТЬ