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There she was. The woman who had just offered him her love, standing alone near the doorway, hands covering her face as she sobbed. She loved him. Melody loved him—and he was leaving. He had to. He had to return to Melbourne to find out what his life was all about because right at this moment he really had no clue.
Who was he? How could he let go of the past? What was he supposed to do when the tour ended? He shook his head sadly as he continued through the process of boarding the plane, barely hearing a word Carmel or anyone else said. How had he reached a point in his life where he had no earthly idea what he was doing? Could he ever hope to be happy again, or was he doomed to the loneliness that stretched before him?
Lonely widower George Wilmont. Was that all?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WHEN THE DOORBELL RANG, George walked through his house, a slight spring in his step. He opened the door with anticipation and smiled at Carmel. ‘I never thought I’d be happy to see you at my door,’ he stated, and Carmel laughed. ‘Come in.’ He beckoned.
‘Would it be crazy to say I’ve missed you?’ she asked as she followed him through to the dining room, which was strewn with papers. ‘I can’t believe it’s almost two whole weeks since we finished the tour.’
‘I can’t believe I’ve written so many reports and papers in those two weeks.’
‘Are they all finished?’
‘Ah…there’s that Miss Efficient Organiser tone I haven’t missed at all.’ They both laughed and sat down to chat.
‘How are you doing, George?’ She gestured to the sparse room. ‘I mean, Christmas is two days away and not a decoration in sight.’
He shrugged. ‘Not really in the Christmas spirit this year.’
‘Are you doing anything on Christmas Day? Seeing Veronique’s family?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m rostered on at the hospital.’
‘I didn’t think you were back there until the New Year.’
‘I’m just doing a few shifts over the Christmas and New Year period. The acting head of department needs to spend some time with his family.’ Even as he said the words ‘acting head of department’ his thoughts immediately went to a different acting department head, a beautiful redhead with mesmerising green eyes who had captured his heart.
Ever since leaving Sydney to complete the visiting orthopaedic specialist tour, George had been hard pressed to get Melody out of his head. Two days after they’d left he’d received an official email from her, on behalf of the rest of the department, thanking him and his staff for choosing St Aloysius as part of the VOS tour. It had been formal, official and he’d been miserable on reading it. Melody. He couldn’t go to sleep without thinking of her smile, without dreaming of being with her, laughing with her, kissing her.
‘You’re like a bear with a sore head,’ Carmel had accused him five days later. ‘For heaven’s sake, email Melody, call Melody, text her with a plethora of emojis if you’re unsure what to say, but do something, George. You’re making the rest of us miserable.’
And so he’d emailed her, an equally polite message, stating that he and his team had enjoyed their stay. He’d signed off the email asking her what her favourite part had been. He’d received a one-word reply—You. Clearly that hadn’t been an official email but the reply had made his heart soar with delight, and along with the delight had come the guilt, the guilt that he was moving on from his marriage, that he was moving away from Veronique and everything they’d shared together.
Since then, he’d taken Carmel’s advice on board and had sent Melody a text message with emojis. His usual one had been the exhausted or sleeping emoji. She would often reply with emojis of her own, all of them upbeat and encouraging, as though she was eager for him to finish this tour.
Carmel waved a hand in front of his face. ‘I know that blank look. You were thinking about Melody, weren’t you?’
George sighed, not bothering to deny it. ‘She’s constantly on my mind. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Do you love her?’
‘I…’ He shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes I think yes, sometimes I think no. Sometimes I think we had such an intense time together, it must all have been an illusion. Perhaps there’s nothing more between us than infatuation?’
‘That doesn’t sound like fun.’
‘It isn’t. That’s why I was more than happy to pick up a few shifts at the hospital. Work will help.’
‘That’s what you told me after Veronique’s death. Work would help.’
