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There it was again. Grateful.
‘It seems to me you’re not happy about the arrangement, and I don’t want you to be unhappy.’
‘I’m not—unhappy about you working. It’s simple, Margaret. If you want to go back to nursing, take the job the hospital is offering. I’ve no problem with you working. I never have.’ He cracked a half smile and so did she, because that’s what they always did. Half smiles and skirting around personal topics.
Was that it? They could talk about medicine and politics and any number of broad topics, but they never really talked about feelings.
Not until that day.
They sat side by side as Meg gathered her thoughts. She was grateful they were on Vera’s swinging seat. Back when she was pregnant and later, after Jennifer’s birth, she and Vera had sat and talked through life and disposed of most problems while swinging gently, a soft breeze off the river clearing their minds. She needed that clarity tonight.
‘Right from the start after you proposed to me, you were fine with me nursing. But since we’ve been married, something has changed.’ At last, a thought occurred to her, one so big and terrifying, she could hardly breathe. ‘Do you think I’m past nursing? Have I been out of it too long?’
Geoffrey reached for her hand. He wasn’t a demonstrative man and the action surprised her. His hand was warm and smooth, and grounded her before fear overcame her. His touch, infrequent as it had been, had always done that.
‘First up, you’re not past doing anything. Maybe you’ll be a little slower at first, although I doubt it, but I’ll start you on smaller procedures. You’ll soon be back in the swing of things. As to the rest of it . . .’ He enfolded her hand in both of his. There was real pleasure in his touch, and hope in the small physical connection.
The longer he held her hand, the more she believed she would find a way to break through the barrier he’d thrown up. She liked the feeling that his strength flowed through their clasped hands and into her. Odd to think of her husband in such terms, but the image felt right.
Their eyes met in the lambent light from the street, his, intense. She waited while he gathered words before dispensing them like precious gems—only the best and as few as did the job. ‘Do you remember much of the time after Jennifer was gone?’
Meg shook her head. ‘It’s a blur, but what’s that got to do with—’
‘What do you remember?’
Meg frowned. ‘We got married. Gerry was a witness, and Roger. I was sad. But what has that to do with us now?’
‘That’s why, Margaret. You changed. You were barely functioning with ordinary day-to-day tasks. Your child had disappeared into the adoption system, and when you got her back, you barely let her out of your sight. And that’s understandable, but how would you have handled the pressure of working in a hospital when you were worrying about her?’
It slammed into Meg then. The knowledge Geoffrey had protected her from. ‘I was grieving for Jennifer as though she’d died.’
He nodded. ‘After you got her back, you watched her like a hawk. It took such a long time before you stopped doing even simple things automatically and started to relax. Started living. A long time till you came back.’
Back? The word jumped out at her and snagged her conscience.
‘Came back as in I was finally wholly present? Was I so very distracted?’
‘Yes, but it was understandable after what you’d been through.’
‘I’m so sorry, Geoffrey. I know you cared about helping me get my daughter back, but why ever did you marry me?’
He was quiet for a long time. At last, he took a deep breath, the sort of breath one took before doing something scary. Something that could change everything without knowing if it would be for the better.
‘I loved you, Margaret. I knew you weren’t in love with me, but I thought I could give you what you needed and maybe one day, you’d see me. Fall in love with me. I wanted to give you everything, but for a time, I feared I couldn’t give you the one thing you most wanted – your daughter.’
‘Oh, Geoffrey.’ Emotion rose like a wave building out at sea and rushing towards the shore. ‘I do love you.’
He raised the hand he held and kissed it. ‘I’ve waited a long time to hear you say so.’
‘Have I never told you? I’m sorry. I don’t know when I started loving you. I’m not even sure I recognised it for a long time.’
‘But you’re sure now?’
She nodded and reached up to cup his cheek. ‘Gerry suspected I was falling for you back in the Currajong days. Perhaps she was right, and I was afraid to acknowledge the truth.’
She’d been blessed to know the love of two wonderful men, but why had it taken her so long to truly see what Geoffrey had given her? How dark her life must have been that she hadn’t understood what he’d done for her. ‘I am truly sorry I never spoke those words.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Meg’s throat clogged with years of emotion and grief she hadn’t acknowledged. But Geoffrey had. Geoffrey—her rock and her strength. He’d saved the shell of a woman she imagined she’d been and slowly, painstakingly, helped her build a new life.
‘I love you.’ Slipping off the seat she sat on his lap, wound her arms around his neck and kissed him. Intentionally. Deliberately. With love.
He wrapped both arms round her, enfolding her in his love, a love she’d only now recognised. He’d saved her, loved her, and now . . .
‘I love you, Geoffrey Ransom. You are my life.’
