Chapter Ten: Prescribing Advice
Posted on Thursday, 20 September 2007
‘Just try one.’ Adam implored, waving the oyster shell beneath her nose.
Elizabeth swiped his hand away, her nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘I don’t care how delicious you say they are. I am not putting one of those disgusting creatures into my mouth’
‘Disgusting creatures!’ Adam retorted indignantly. ‘Need I remind you that you were the one who went out and purchased them?’
‘But that’s because I know how much you like them,’ she replied archly. ‘I couldn’t exactly throw you a celebratory dinner without making sure that at least something on the table was one of your favourites.’
Adam smiled his appreciation as he placed the shell to his lips, pointedly ignoring Elizabeth’s slight grimace as he slid the oyster into his eager mouth.
‘Wrinkle your nose now, but you’ll appreciate these little ‘creatures’ later, Lizzy,’ Adam fixed his gaze upon her, eyebrow raised suggestively as he placed the empty shell onto the platter in front of him. ‘You know what they say about oysters!’
‘I don’t know how a man of sense and education, a man of science no less, can believe such old wives tales.’ Elizabeth exclaimed amusedly, rolling her eyes. ‘Scientifically, you do know that oysters are nothing more than the bottom-dwelling filters of the ocean, don’t you? I may as well drink water out of a toilet.’
’Thank you for ruining my appetite,’ Adam groaned melodramatically. Elizabeth laughed and his expression instantly transformed to one of pure adoration. Reaching over the table he entwined his fingers with hers. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you planned tonight, Lizzy. It means the world to me.’
Elizabeth smiled in response, squeezing his hand lightly. Both sat back contentedly, soaking up the ambiance created by the candles shimmering brightly against the dusky night. Elizabeth had painstakingly threaded tiny fairy lights around the columns surrounding their backyard gazebo, and the gourmet meal spread on the ornately decorated table had been the work of several harassed calls to Lily and Fran. Blessed with a perfect balmy summer night, the overall effect was everything Elizabeth had hoped it to be, intimate, inviting, and memorable.
‘I’m just sorry that it’s taken us two weeks since your promotion was announced to finally find the time to celebrate,’ Elizabeth replied with a sigh.
‘It’s times like this that I’m so thankful that I married a doctor,’ Adam mused, stroking her fingers gently. ‘Only another doctor could ever appreciate, or accept, the personal sacrifices that come with the job. I’m extremely blessed.’
Elizabeth gazed wistfully at their entwined hands, as the garden crickets burst into chorus.
‘I believe that at times like this it’s necessary to propose a toast,’ she said, raising her flute filled with orange juice delicately towards her husband. ‘To you, my unbelievably talented husband, on your very well deserved promotion to Chief of Surgery.’
They clinked glasses gently before raising the flute to their lips.
‘And I propose a toast to you, my beautiful wife,’ Adam added, raising his glass again. At her look of confusion he smiled. ‘For assisting on your first heart-lung transplant. That’s something to celebrate, don’t you think?’
Elizabeth waved away his praise nonchalantly, but her shining eyes betrayed her excitement.
‘I must admit that it was quite an adrenalin rush.’ Elizabeth smiled in recollection. ‘Although I’m pretty sure that the other residents believe that the only reason I got to assist with the surgery was because I’m married to the boss.’
‘A bit of healthy competitiveness in medicine is quite normal, Lizzy. Just look at Wentworth and I. Unfortunately some doctors are spiteful, and will clutch at anything which justifies their feelings of envy,’ Adam replied, sipping his drink. ‘If the other residents put as much effort into their work as they did with their gossip, they might find they receive more opportunities to assist with complex surgeries too.’
‘Oh, I’m not worried. Ever since I entered medical school, I’ve become accustomed to whispers and speculation wherever I go.’ Elizabeth replied, arching her brow as she sipped her juice. Placing the flute down, she flashed a brilliant smile towards her husband. ’Besides, this dinner is supposed to be all about you and your accomplishments. How about we discuss your celebratory gift?’
‘Discuss?’ Adam responded, mystified. ‘Aren’t gifts supposed to be a surprise up until the moment they’re given?’
‘Ordinary, yes,’ Elizabeth nodded in agreement. ‘But I can’t exactly organise this gift without consulting you about it!’
‘What exactly is the gift that you have in mind?’ Adam asked, his curiosity peaking.
Elizabeth paused to build the anticipation.
‘How about we take a break and go somewhere together?’ Elizabeth suggested tentatively.
Adam grinned widely.
‘I can see why this gift would require some consultation,’ he remarked. ‘Well, as you know I’ve got quite a bit of leave owing. What exactly were you thinking of? Lorne?’
‘Lorne?’ Elizabeth echoed indignantly, brow furrowed. ‘Adam, we can go there anytime. I was thinking of something a little different.’
‘Like what? Queensland? Perth?’ he suggested.
At her silence, his eyes widened. ‘Sweetheart, please, tell me you’re not thinking of Longbourne.’ Adam implored, his eyes pleading. ‘I’ll go anywhere for you, but not Longbourne. You don’t know how much your mother terrifies me. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me for encouraging you to elope.’
Elizabeth laughed as he sighed helplessly. ‘I said we need a break, not a punishment,’ she giggled. ‘No, not Longbourne.’
Adam’s brow knit in confusion. ‘Well then?’
‘I was thinking something a little more adventurous.’ Elizabeth began tentatively, leaning forward in her chair. ‘Adam, why don’t we go overseas? Somewhere far away and exotic? We can take that long delayed honeymoon we promised each other.’
Adam sighed, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. ‘Honey, I hate to deny you anything, but that’s just not possible,’ he replied gently. ‘I’ve just been promoted to a position with added responsibilities. I just can’t take off on an extended break overseas.’
‘I’m not saying our trip has to be immediate.’ Elizabeth insisted, her face falling. ‘This is something which we can take our time planning together, maybe for the middle of the year. Imagine, we could escape to the northern summer, avoid winter all together.’
‘Lizzy…’
Elizabeth held up her hand to silence his beginning protests. ‘Adam, you yourself said that you’re owed leave. You’ve taken less than four weeks off in the four years I’ve known you. That’s twelve weeks not counting the long service leave loading,’ she calculated nimbly. ‘As a doctor I perfectly understand how committed you are to your patients, and you know that I share your commitment. But the hospital isn’t going to collapse if you take your entitlements.’
‘I’m not saying it will,’ Adam replied. ‘Lizzy, as long as we spend time together, it doesn’t matter where we are. Look, how about we go to Lorne for a couple of days?’
Elizabeth shrugged in exasperation.
Adam reached for her hand again. ‘Darling, please, I can’t bear the thought of disappointing you,’ he whispered gently. ‘I promise you when the time is right for both of us, I’ll take you somewhere extravagant.’
Elizabeth snorted her disbelief, even as she suppressed the small smile that threatened her lips at his penitent expression. ‘And you’ll be kicking and screaming the entire way, I suspect.’
‘That’s not true!’ Adam replied indignantly. ‘I went to the Australasian Conference in Singapore last year, did I not?’
‘Yes, you did,’ Elizabeth agreed good-naturedly. ‘And only because Professor Lucas forced you to go. And you complained the entire time. I have to resign myself to the fact that by the time you finally overcome your fear of travelling we’ll be going on our honeymoon as geriatrics.’
‘I am not afraid of travelling,’ Adam grinned wryly.
‘If you say so, darling,’ Elizabeth soothed sweetly.
‘Lizzy, I’ve always planned to travel some day.’ Adam insisted earnestly. ‘If you must know, several years ago I had every intention of joining Médecins Sans Frontières and volunteering my services as a surgeon on the African sub-continent. It was something I had always dreamed of doing, after completing my surgical qualifications.’
‘Really? You never told me that!’ Elizabeth exclaimed in surprise. ‘You would have been a wonderful asset to them. What stopped you from fulfilling that dream?’
‘I fell in love,’ Adam smiled tenderly, his eyes fixed on hers. ’She was a beautiful young intern fresh out of medical school, with bewitching eyes and an amazing spirit. And by some miraculous stroke of luck, she somehow reciprocated the feeling.’
Elizabeth’s face was flushed, her eyes shining.
‘She was so precious to me that I knew that I couldn’t leave the country without her firmly by my side.’ Adam continued, voice low, the candlelight dancing on his face. ‘Even if she consented to join me, I knew that the MSF couldn’t guarantee that we would end up on the same assignment, let alone the same continent.’
‘So you gave up your dream?’ Elizabeth whispered softly, deeply touched. ‘For me?’
‘Don’t you understand, Lizzy?’ Adam moved closer, touching her face with his slender fingers. ‘Dreams come. Dreams fade. Dreams change. But love, our love? I know without a shadow of a doubt that our love is going to lasts forever.’
At that moment, as his face inched closer towards hers, eyes darkened in passion, Elizabeth knew there was no greater truth than the love that enveloped them in their own private cocoon.
Although the Departmental Seminars’ official proceedings had ended late in the afternoon, it was late evening by the time Elizabeth finally returned home. She felt lighter than she had for a long time, cruising on a wave of adrenalin, buoyed by the unanimous admiration of her peers, basking in the success of her well-delivered presentation. Charlotte had insisted upon taking Elizabeth to dinner in celebration of her successful debut on the Seminar circuit, and she had happily obliged, especially when her favourite Thai food was on offer. With leisurely speed, the dishes piled high with spring rolls, satay sticks and samosa were stripped of their contents, as Charlotte relayed the many comments and snippets of praise that she had heard from the audience throughout the presentation.
‘I’m impressed with the way you interacted with Dr Crady during the presentation,’ Charlotte said. ‘I’m glad to admit that I was wrong in my earlier assumptions.’
‘And what would they have been?’ Elizabeth asked smilingly.
‘It doesn’t matter what they were because you certainly didn’t fulfil them,’ Charlotte teased. ‘You were very masterful, Lizzy. With the exception of Crady, yourself and I, no one else in that theatre would have had a clue that there was another meaning to your presentation.’
‘Well, Crady left me in no doubt that he definitely understood what I was saying.’ Elizabeth replied, arching her brow in emphasis.
‘It was pretty audacious of him to say what he did to Dad,’ Charlotte replied in agreement.
‘Char, I don’t want to waste my time thinking of Crady any longer,’ Elizabeth sighed, leaning contentedly into her seat. ‘I just wanted to teach him that there are two sides to a pancake, no matter how thinly you spread the batter. Crady is entitled to his opinion. It’s true that I would much rather those opinions were based on well-informed facts, but that is his right, as long as he doesn’t disparage those who hold an alternate view.’
‘Speaking of pancakes, are you down for a double at Il Ciccio’s?’ Charlotte suggested.
Elizabeth rubbed her stomach as she entered the darkness of her bedroom. Throwing herself on the bed, she closed her eyes briefly, absorbing the silence surrounding her. She felt slightly unsettled by the realisation that there would be no Charlotte snoring in the room down the hall, and that for the first time she would spend the night alone in their house. Charlotte had headed straight to her parents’ house after dinner; Lily was hosting a morning tea for her Tuesday morning tennis team, and had pleaded with Charlotte for assistance. Mumbling her unhappiness at how co-incidental it was that her mother’s morning tea was planned on her rostered day off, Charlotte had begrudgingly agreed to spend the night in her old bedroom in preparation for an early rise in the morning.
Elizabeth sighed deeply, as she grabbed one of the pillows and hugged it to her chest, eyes glassy and unfocused. Dinner with Charlotte had been wonderful, but it didn’t compare to the comfort of a strong pair of familiar arms enveloping her in a congratulatory hug, or an encouraging smile fixed on a masculine face filled with pride. Today had been a milestone in her career, and even now, despite the passing sands of time and the gulf between the living and the dead, she found herself wanting to share her moment of glory with Adam, to bask in his praise, to share his opinions, which for so long had helped shape her own.
Examining the clock on her bedside table, Elizabeth heaved herself off the bed and slowly began undressing. She pulled the pins from her hair, and shook her head to release the curly mane, sighing as she ran her hand through her scalp to the tips of the curls cascading down her back. Pulling on her Bugs Bunny flannelette pyjamas she peered at herself pensively in the mirror, thankful that the image peering back reflected only the youthful physical outer shell and not the troubled inner spirit touched by melancholy, tragedy and premature adulthood. But today, the eyes shined a little bit brighter, the brow was a little less furrowed. She turned her face to the left, then the right, and the shallow words of Dr Crady voicing his obnoxious opinions about Australian women suddenly echoing in her head, filling her with anger. The arrogant, presumptuous…. She shook her head slightly to dispel the angry thoughts, determined not to waste one moment reflecting on anything the man had to say. Striding to the kitchen, she busied herself making a mug of warm cocoa before settling back onto her bed, cordless phone in hand.
At eleven pm, when she had deemed it sufficiently late enough to presume that Jane had returned home from work, Elizabeth punched in her sisters’ number, chewing her lip impatiently as the phone rang and rang. Her anxiety increasing exponentially with every unanswered peal, and she was ready to assume the worst when her sister’s breathless voice answered in hasty greeting.
‘You had me worried half to death,’ scolded Elizabeth, relief coursing through her body.
‘I’m sorry, I just got in!’ Jane replied apologetically. ‘Traffic was horrible, and I needed to get some things from the supermarket. Did Charlotte tell you I called yesterday?’
Elizabeth eased herself into her pillows. ‘Of course she did! Sorry I couldn’t call you back until now. It would have been too late to return the call when my shift ended this morning, and I was busy with the Seminar this afternoon.’
‘Oh Lizzy, did your presentation go well?’ Jane asked, with an excitement stemming from sisterly affection.
‘Jane, it went really well.’ Elizabeth replied happily. ‘I think I managed to convince the few remaining critics out at Memorial that I’m not a mutated double-headed impostor in their midst.’
Jane giggled. ‘I had absolutely no doubt that you would blow them away, especially if you included some of those heart-wrenching photos you took in Kenya. They truly do paint a thousand words, you know.’
Elizabeth took a sip of her cocoa. ‘They do. But enough talk about me. How are things with you? I was initially worried that something was wrong when Charlotte told me you rang last night, and when you didn’t answer straight away I was about the presume the worst. Is everything alright?’
‘No, no everything is fine,’ Jane reassured quickly, pausing briefly. ‘It wasn’t anything serious anyway.’
Elizabeth placed her mug on the bedside table. ‘Are you sure about that? You sound like you have something on your mind.’
A long pause ensued before Jane released a shaky breath.
‘Lizzy, how is it that you could always read me like a book?’ she whispered softly. ‘Am I only that transparent to you?’
‘Jane, what’s happened?’ Elizabeth demanded, gripping the phone tightly.
A second long pause had Elizabeth on the verge of fear.
‘It’s…. it’s Charles.’ Jane replied, sniffing suspiciously.
‘You’re crying!’ Elizabeth exclaimed, slamming down the mug hastily. ‘What did he do? Did he hurt you? I swear….’
‘No, no,’ Jane interrupted, sniffling repeatedly. ‘Lizzy, it’s nothing like that. Don’t presume the worst.’
‘Then please explain it to me Jane. What has Charles done to make you cry?’ Elizabeth muttered through clenched teeth.
Jane sighed deeply. ‘These aren’t sad tears, Lizzy. I’m emotional because I’m just so happy!’
‘Happy?’ Elizabeth replied impatiently. ‘Start right at the beginning.’
‘Lizzy, ever since our talk at Longbourne I’ve tried to be rational and objective in my relationship with Charles.’ Jane began tentatively. ‘I want you to know that I truly treasure the advice that you gave me that day. The day I left, I promised myself that I would take things slowly, so that I wouldn’t rush into something that I would regret later. And Lizzy, it’s so hard. Some days its easier to keep my resolve, other days I just want to throw caution to the wind, come what may.’
She paused again, evidently struggling to find the right words.
‘Lizzy, I want to be with him. Of that I am certain. But then I remember that he’s leaving in a couple of weeks….’ Jane’s voice trailed off into a whisper. ‘I feel like I’m stuck on the edge of a precipice. I want to protect my heart, but at the same time I don’t want to live with the regret of allowing something wonderful to pass me by just because I was too reticent with my feelings.’
‘What is this about, Jane? Is he pressuring you to sleep with him?’ Elizabeth asked gently.
‘No! Lizzy, he knows and respects my views of that subject.’ Jane retorted emphatically. ‘I’m not naive enough to think that he hasn’t been sexually active in previous relationships. But since that night when he first learned I was a virgin, and despite the frustration I know he is feeling, Charles has been nothing less than a perfect gentleman.’
‘Then what is the problem?’ Elizabeth probed.
‘Yesterday, we had dinner and then we came back to my place and watched some Seinfeld repeats.’ Jane continued, sighing deeply. ‘Lizzy, it was such a wonderful night. I made some good old-fashioned popcorn, and we spent the whole time laughing and recalling our own favourite Seinfeld moments. Then Charles started telling me all these lame blonde jokes. For some reason there was just something too funny about two blondes spending their evening comparing their repertoire of blonde jokes.’
Jane chuckled to herself in remembrance. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, a slight smile playing on her lips. ‘And?’
‘Well, we were both laughing so hard at the ridiculousness of it all, when he suddenly grabbed me and started tickling me on the sofa,’ Jane continued. ‘You know how ticklish I am, and how I start to hiccup when I laugh too much. Somehow, I found myself lying beneath him, and he was gazing at me with this gorgeous smile on his face. He stopped tickling me, looked down on me and said that I had a beautiful laugh. That it was one of the things that had made him fall in love with me.’
Elizabeth sucked in her breath. ‘He said he was in love with you?’
‘Lizzy, I was in shock.’ Jane replied, her words rushed. ‘I knew how I felt about him in my heart, but I was a little unsure as to how he truly felt for me. I knew he cared a lot, but to actually say that he loved me….’
Jane paused and Elizabeth remained silent, remembering a time long ago when a similar declaration had been made and shared.
‘I was speechless, Lizzy. I don’t know why I didn’t immediately reciprocate, but I was so caught in the shock of his words, and before I knew it he was kissing me.’ Jane sighed audibly. ‘Lizzy, the kiss… it that was so sweet and tender. I don’t know how I found the strength to leave his arms on that sofa, but somehow I found the way to do so before things escalated out of control. It felt so right, so beautiful, being with him like that. Like I was moulded to fit into his arms.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ Elizabeth responded quietly.
‘I know how I feel about him, but I couldn’t put it into words yet. I couldn’t say that I loved him too. I don’t know why I am allowing this fear to consume me.’
Elizabeth knotted her brows. ‘What fear, Janey?’
‘The fear of breaking my heart.’ Jane responded, voice trembling. ‘The fear of allowing myself to be happy only to have it snatched away from me.’
‘I encouraged you to be cautious, not pessimistic.’ Elizabeth remarked. ‘Why are you so afraid?’.
‘Well, you must admit that the Bennet women haven’t exactly been lucky in love,’ Jane retorted, and then gasped in mortification. ‘I’m so sorry, Lizzy, I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘I understand what you mean.’ Elizabeth replied quietly. ‘And I wish I could guarantee that you’ll never have to experience what Mum and I have had to, but I can’t. Life doesn’t come with any guarantees.’
‘I know,’ Jane whispered shakily.
‘Then don’t allow what happened with Adam and Dad affect the decisions you make in your life,’ Elizabeth replied. It’s enough that they haunt mine.
‘I’m not,’ Jane blurted, and then burst into tears. ‘I don’t know why I’m being so hesitant. Why I can’t show more of what I’m feeling? I’m afraid that this hesitancy is already giving him doubts’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘After he kissed me, he just help both my hands in his. It was exquisite the way he rubbed his thumbs over the palms of my hands, and we were both relishing the moment.’ Jane sighed audibly. ‘But I’m afraid that my hesitancy has given him reason to doubt the way I feel about him. The entire time he was holding my hands, he looked like something was troubling him, like he had something on his mind. Several times he looked as though he wanted to ask me something, but something would stop him.’
Don’t you think that maybe you’re over-exaggerating Jane?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘I don’t know. I’m so confused at the moment.’ Jane retorted in exasperation. ‘He told me that he might need to go interstate later in the week. I mean, he only has two weeks left here in Australia, and he’s decided to spend some of that time away from me. How am I supposed to interpret that? How can he tell me he loves me, and then chose to spend time away from me when our time together is so precious at the moment?’
‘Jane, I think you both need to sit down and discuss where this relationship is going.’ Elizabeth stressed. ‘There are some very deep feelings involved and a lot of potential for misunderstandings. Both of you could end up hurt.’
‘But I don’t want him to think that I’m pressuring him into something that he isn’t ready for.’ Jane said hesitantly. ‘Did you know that he was named the UK’s Bachelor of the Year last year? Do you have any idea as to the number of beautiful and confident women that have thrown themselves at him? He’s gone through life being hunted by women and I don’t want him to feel like that with me.’
‘Well what are you going to do? Are you going to drive him to the airport in two weeks time, kiss him on the cheek and wave goodbye to him forever? I know you don’t want that.’ Elizabeth retorted emphatically. ‘Talk to him, a serious talk, on where he sees this relationship going. Believe me, it will be much better that imagining the worst and living with uncertainty.’
‘I know,’ Jane replied softly. ‘I know you’re right.’
‘Of course I’m right,’ Elizabeth echoed. ‘And by serious discussion, I mean nothing pre-empted with ‘Two blondes walk into a bar’.’
Jane giggled in remembrance. ‘They really were the lamest jokes I’ve ever heard.’
‘Worse than the golden standard of lameness ‘what’s brown and sticky?’ Elizabeth enquired laughingly, settling deeper into the pillows.
‘Not quite, but close to it,’ Jane laughed, her good humour restored. ‘This one was particularly bad: there’s a blonde, a brunette and a redhead….’
Charles Bingley was temporarily put aside in the mind of at least one Bennet sister, as the remainder of Elizabeth’s night was filled with such humour, cringing and laughter that it became easy to conveniently forget that she was home alone.
There was no such mirth across the bay in Beacons Cove, no lightness of spirit to chase away the darkness that had descended upon the sole occupant of the spacious beachfront apartment. William sat silently, the room illuminated by the radiance of the silvery moon, unobstructed by clouds, and the glowing light of the laptop monitor that rested upon the pristine dining room table. Semi-reclined into the plush sofa, his eyes were fixed in an unfocused stare, his jaw clenched as tightly as the fist that encircled the tumbler of scotch that rested on his lap. Were it not for the occasional raising of the tumbler to his lips, William could have easily been mistaken for the wax double on display at Madame Tussade’s.
Despite the calm exterior, William’s mind was still buzzing with the events of the day, specifically the scenes that had played out during and after the Departmental Seminar. His mind had played back the events like a slideshow on continuous loop, souring his mood with every minute of reflection, and robbing him of his already weak appetite for the sushi he had half-heartedly purchased on the way home. He had fled the hospital as soon as humanly possible, preferring the solitude of the apartment to the empty pleasantries of colleagues who were, after all, mere strangers. The sushi sat unopened on the living room table, failing to entice him in the same way that the stocked bar seemed able to do. A couple of drinks later, and he had sat down at the dining room table, laptop opened, typing away furiously, searching for the evidence that would exonerate Darcy Pharmaceuticals from the accusations levelled at it’s doors. Denial, often recognised as the first stage of emotional shock, had set in, and William allowed himself to ride on its wave like a seasoned surfer.
Logging into the Darcy Pharmaceuticals intranet had been easy enough, his codes delivering instant access with the highest levels of security clearance. Finding the information he was seeking presented a harder challenge; a comprehensive list of all the drugs that Darcy Pharmaceuticals had produced since his fathers’ tenure as CEO. He had searched through file after file of research patents, ethics applications and trial data before firing off an urgent email to his personal assistant Sandra, requesting immediate information. A second email, to the head of the Legal division, followed the first, and the wait began. As the time ticked by with excruciating slowness, William transitioned into the second stage of emotional shock: anger. Anger that he, Fitzwilliam Darcy, had been made to feel the fool by a woman barely through the first stages of adulthood, and she had done it in such a way that, had he not borne the brunt of it, would have impressed him with her eloquence and cunning. Anger that she continued to unjustly label his company as a mercenary profit-seeking conglomerate with no regard for human life. Most of all he was angry with himself, because he, in an uncharacteristic act of charity, had deigned to offer her paracetamol for her bloody headache.
Twenty minutes later, the chiming of his inbox heralded the long-awaited arrival of the answers that he sought to exonerate both Darcy Pharmaceuticals and his father from Dr Bennets’ unjust generalisations. Greedily perusing the list of drugs, his expression, initially hopeful, had transformed into one that indicated his growing moroseness as he found himself inwardly praying for the letters appearing on his screen to morph into a more pleasing arrangement of words, pledging to reduce the price of any drug Darcy Pharmaceuticals had developed for the Third Word if only he could determine their existence. Welcome stage three: bargaining. The words he craved to see upon his screen did not materialise, and the second email, received shortly after the second, delivered worse news. Darcy Pharmaceuticals was suing two Indian companies producing generic HIV drugs, for breach of patent law. Rising to generously refill his tumbler, he threw himself onto the sofa, an undeniable truth nagging at his conscience. Dr Elizabeth Bennet had been generous in her assumption that Darcy Pharmaceuticals had likely produced only four drugs out of four hundred, over the period of his fathers’ reign, for diseases specifically affecting the developed world. Indeed, his painstaking examination of the list revealed evidence of only one such drug, an attempted anti-malarial vaccine that had failed the Phase I testing, resulting in the discontinuation of further research, some twenty years previously. By this time, William was deep into stage four: depression.
The majority of the drugs developed during his father’s reign were directed at cancers and autoimmune diseases. He couldn’t fault his fathers’ motivation. He knew that deep down, George Darcy’s passionate crusade against these diseases had stemmed from the grief he had suffered at the hands of the cancer that had claimed his beloved wife and left his children motherless. Indeed, had not he, Fitzwilliam Darcy, done exactly the same thing? Since taking control of Darcy Pharmaceuticals he had waged a similar battle, steering the company into the development of cardiac drugs. Regardless of the profitability such drugs presented to the company, had it not been more infinitely satisfying knowing that under his direction other sons and daughters might be prevented from experiencing the pain that he and Georgiana had felt when their father had died? No, William concluded, moving into the final stage of emotional shock: acceptance. George Darcy, the philanthropic businessman and loving father, would never have deliberately neglected producing drugs that specifically treated developing world diseases, any more than he, a doctor, would. With neither a scientific or medical background, his father would have relied upon Darcy Pharmaceuticals’ advisors when it came to research and development. But the lawsuits! As CEO, how could he himself possibly be ignorant of those proceedings…
The ringing of his phone interrupted his reverie. Glancing down, a slight distracted smile tugged at his lips as his eye alighted upon the name that flashed impatiently across the screen.
‘Charles Bingley.’ William greeted warmly.
‘Darce, mate.’ Charles responded lightly. ‘Or should I be calling you Crady now?’
William chuckled half-heartedly. Within days of his arrival in Melbourne, William had contacted Charles to inform him of his plans in Australia, with strict instructions not to divulge the information to anyone, especially Caroline. Charles’ first reaction was delighted incredulousness that his dearest friend was but a small flight away, and smug satisfaction that the great Fitzwilliam Darcy had finally taken his impulsive advice. Although he initially contemplated not divulging the true nature of his visit to his friend, William quickly decided that Charles would keep his secret. Indeed, William reasoned, if anyone could understand the driving force behind his decision, it was Charles Bingley. Charles himself had eagerly jumped at the opportunity to run the Netherfield Tower projects in Perth, motivated primarily by his desire to escape his overbearing mother and tyrannical father. Since those first initial phone conversations with Charles, an opportunity to properly catch up had been temporarily shelved due to Charles’ deadline on the Netherfield Towers project, and Williams’ own preparations for Memorial.
‘I guess the more people calling me Crady the sooner I will become accustomed to it.’ William replied, swishing the amber fluid within the tumbler in a circular motion. ‘I’m afraid that someone will call my name and I’ll just walk straight by.’
‘Well, I’m not surprised that you would chose an anagram of your surname,’ Charles added. ‘Even your attempts at deception are tinged by principle.’
William frowned, and shifted slightly in his seat. ‘I’m not proud that I had to resort to that deception, Charles.’
‘I know you aren’t Darce….I mean, Crady’ Charles soothed. ‘But I wonder if you’ve given any thought to how your colleagues are going to feel once your real identity becomes known.’
‘That, Charles, is not going to happen,’ William responded confidently. ‘I’m in Australia to do a job, and then I’m out of here. I’m not intending to form social relationships, or lasting friendships. This is all business for me. Believe me, when I leave, there will be nobody to lament my departure. On the contrary, some may even rejoice.’
William’s mind flashed back to a pair of flashing green eyes and a well-timed French barb, his face burning in shameful remembrance.
‘I’m sure the male staff will be glad to see Dr Hotloins go,’ Charles surmised, laughing. ‘So do they have you on a tight schedule?’
‘Actually, I’m pretty useless at the moment. All new personnel have to go through a mountain of occupational health and safety standard protocols.’ William replied, his frustration evident. ‘I feel like a bloody intern on his first day at the hospital, except that the interns had more patient contact today than I did. So much for residents outranking interns.’
‘So your not on nights yet?’ Charles probed. ‘Not working the weekend?’
William sighed. ‘No. I’m pretty much waiting for ethics approval to begin the bulk of my work, and I’ll be in training the entire week before they allow me to touch the patients.’
‘Great.’ Charles boomed. ‘I hope I’m not going to inconvenience you Darce, but I desperately need to see to you. I’m coming down Saturday morning.’
‘That’s great Charles.’ William replied in surprise. ‘Dare I ask to what do I owe this expected pleasure?’
‘We haven’t seen each other for almost 6 months Darce,’ Charles replied evasively. ‘I’m leaving in a fortnight and you are staying here for another 6 months. I think it would be a good opportunity while we are on the same continent to have a proper catch-up.’
‘Believe me, I’m not complaining Charles,’ William assured his friend. ‘I look forward to seeing you again. How long will you be down for?’
‘Perhaps a couple of days, I’m not sure yet,’ Charles replied. ‘Maybe you can show me around the place, now that you’re a seasoned Melburnian.’
William laughed. ‘Hardly! I’ve been at the mercy of my chauffer the past week, so haven’t had much opportunity to explore. I collect my lease car on Wednesday, so I’ll finally have greater freedom of movement.’
‘Fantastic, so you can pick me up from the airport then?’ Charles replied cheerfully. ‘It’ll be just like old times, before my sister set her sights on you.’
‘Do you think you can do me a favour and not mention the c-word while you’re here?’ William retorted, a scowl marring his handsome features.
‘No problems, Dr Crady.’ Charles replied compliantly. Promising to contact him later in the week with an estimated arrival time, the call ended.
William smiled to himself, as he stretched himself up off the couch and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the bay. It would be good to see Charles again, to renew a friendship that had inadvertently suffered as a result of circumstances that had arisen since his father’s death. His father. Sighing deeply, William moved slowly to the laptop. Casting a cursory glance at the document fixed on the screen, William set his jaw, leaned forward and deliberately pressed the off button. He fervently hoped that the morrow would not throw him into the presence of Dr Elizabeth Bennet.
Having used the Departmental Seminar as the means through which she hoped she could humble the new doctor over his presumptuous opinions and indifferent attitude, Elizabeth shared a similar desire to spend as little time in his company as possible. It was abundantly clear that Dr Crady disapproved of her and resented the means through which she had attempted to enlighten him; his attempt to paint her the hypocrite in the eyes of Professor Lucas was evidence of that. Elizabeth, happily, was spared the necessity of interacting with the new resident throughout the remainder of the week, for his first week coincided with the beginning of her paediatric cardiology rotation. With the children’s wing housed in the east wing of the hospital, Elizabeth only had to dread the likelihood of bumping into Dr Crady at the staff locker room or the cafeteria. Providence seemed to be smiling upon her, for these potentially tense meetings were pleasantly avoided, and Elizabeth was free to approach her week in the children’s wing with optimism unhindered by distractions.
In her early years of medical school, Elizabeth had been uncertain as to which specialty she should pursue: cardiology or paediatrics. One of her less politically correct professors had suggested that female doctors were drawn to paediatrics or obstetrics because it suited their maternal natures. She had reflected on his words after the first time she had entered into a neonatal intensive care unit and found herself oohhing and aahhing at the sight of the helpless tiny newborns. Although fascinated by the workings of the human heart, she had enjoyed her the time spent in the paediatric wards during her intern rotations. It amazed her how these children could maintain their optimism and cheerfulness in the face of serious disease and suffering. The tremulous smiles on pale faces had tugged at her heart, even as the lure of cardiology had stimulated her professionally. The decision was made in her fifth year, when she learnt that the young cancer patient she had been monitoring throughout her rotation had passed away overnight. Although she understood that life and death was a natural cycle, she knew that witnessing the death of children, and the accompanying loss of youth and innocence, would be more than she could bear. Cardiology would always be her forte, but spending time in the paediatric cardiology ward was an easy way to combine her two professional passions.
She was in the Clown Doctor’s room, smiling as the clowns, decked in scrubs and brightly coloured wigs, made animals out of balloons and painted little faces. For an hour they danced and entertained, and for an hour the children were not defined by their diseases, or the nature of their symptoms, but were united in fun and laughter. The Clown Doctors had been an institution at Memorial almost as old as the Departmental Seminar, proving that although laughter was not the best medicine, it did go a long way towards healing the emotional and psychological wounds that often remained untreated in the war against their physical ailments. Elizabeth picked a long strand of silly string from her hair, and glancing at her clock as the rehearsed routine of the clowns came to its conclusion, she signalled the nurses to return the children back to their respective wards. As the clowns gaily ushered them out with the hypnotic power of the piped piper, Elizabeth sighed as she looked around at the disarray that remained, a smile playing upon her lips.
Slowly, shuffling through the balloons and confetti that littered the floor, she moved towards the grand piano nestled in the corner of the room. The clowns often entertained the children with silly songs, and the polished instrument had witnessed the laughter of hundreds of children singing along to its tune. Sitting down silently at the piano bench, she stared at the black and white keys, her mind occupied. Gingerly she reached out and touched the surface of the ivory keys, softly, hesitantly, her eyes fluttering shut.
‘So this is where you hide?’
Eyes flying open, Elizabeth whirled round to face Dr Wentworth as he stood casually against the doorframe. She grinned awkwardly.
‘You do realise that now I have to kill you?’ Elizabeth responded lightly. ‘I can’t have this quiet space invaded by doctors.’
Dr Wentworth slowly ambled into the room, taking in the mess with raised eyebrows.
‘It looks like I just missed the next World War,’ he deadpanned. Moving towards Elizabeth, he nodded at the piano. ‘Do you play?’
Elizabeth shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I used to, a long time ago. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten the essentials.’
Dr Wentworth made to sit down next to her on the piano bench, and she charitably scooted across the accommodate him.
‘It’s a shame. Playing the piano is a wonderful accomplishment.’ Rick said distractedly as he pressed down on one of the keys. The rich sound of the note reverberated across the room, and a small grin graced his lips. ‘This is a beautiful instrument.’
He pressed the key again. He stared ahead, absorbing the sound, his eyes slightly glazed.
‘The first time I met Anne was over eight years ago, the last medical soiree before graduation.’ Elizabeth’s eyes widened, as the suddenness of the words as they left the lips of the notoriously private cardiologist. He seemed unaware of her surprise. ‘ She was sitting at the piano, dressed in blue velvet, accompanying the choral. She was so beautiful, a little slip of a woman with large eyes, even back then. Her fingers flew over the keyboard with such mastery that I was instantly mesmerised, both with her and her music.’
Reality intruded in on his reverie, and Rick blinked in awareness. Coughing lightly, he darted a quick glance towards Elizabeth before studiously focusing his gaze upon the keys. ‘You know, Elizabeth, the ability of human beings to associate memories with sights, smells and sounds is extraordinary. In the years that we were apart, I could never hear anything played on the piano without being transported back to that time. And at the time, I never experienced anything else that gave me equal measure of pleasure and pain.’
Elizabeth gazed at him in understanding. ‘And now you’re engaged to be married. There is a happily ever after for the both of you, after all.’
‘It can’t happen soon enough, Lizzy. Eight years is a very long time.’ Rick replied, a smile gracing his lips before being replace with a slight scowl. ‘Unfortunately, her father wants a big wedding, an opportunity to walk his daughter down the aisle, he says. I swear to God the pompous narcissist thinks this is his opportunity to be in the limelight. He doesn’t give a damn about his daughter.’
‘You could always elope,’ Elizabeth suggested lightly, pressing a key distractedly.
‘God knows, that would be the best solution to our problems.’ Rick sighed deeply. ‘I don’t care about the expense of throwing a fancy wedding, but I do care about the waste of time.’
Elizabeth nodded in understanding, her memory triggered. She turned to face him, a smile schooled onto her face.
‘Your time must be pretty precious at the moment,’ she said with meaning. ‘Please forgive me, Rick. Although I heard the news when I first returned, I never got the opportunity to congratulate you over your appointment to Chief of Surgery. Congratulations.’
A blush crept across Rick’s neck, and he cleared his throat in a hasty cough.
‘Ah, yes, well…’
Elizabeth placed her hand on his arm in reassurance. ‘It’s okay, Rick.’
Wentworth glanced at her briefly, and nodded his head slowly.
‘I’m not sure how much Adam told you about our rivalry,’ he said suddenly. Elizabeth nodded in understanding. Even if he hadn’t, she would have learnt of it from their competitive interaction. ‘As residents our rivalry was legendary. We competed for everything professionally, the most difficult procedures, authorship on papers, and the best cases. It was intense, but it was a healthy rivalry between two men that above everything respected one another. You know what I mean?’
Elizabeth nodded silently.
‘Although I was disappointed to miss out on Chief of Surgery two years ago, deep down I knew that Professor Lucas had made the right decision when he promoted Adam to the position.’ Wentworth continued. ‘In addition to his skills, Adam just had this amazing fire in him….’
Rick paused and cast her a quick look before he pressed another of the ivory keys.
‘Knowing that my promotion to Chief of Surgery was only made possible by his death brings me little joy Elizabeth,’ he concluded lightly, shifting in his seat. ‘I’m sure you agree with me in that regard, but I thank you anyway for your gracious congratulations.’
Rick got up nimbly and strode to the window. His back towards her, he cleared his throat.
‘You remember Monday’s patient, the one with the tumour? All tests confirm that the tumour was a primary carcinoma. Do you have any idea how extremely rare that is?’ Wentworth queried, his tone professional. ‘In all my years as a surgeon, any cardiac tumours I’ve witnessed have all been secondary.’
‘She has a long road to recovery ahead of her.’ Elizabeth noted from her position on the piano.
Wentworth nodded briefly. ‘She does. She’s young, and we caught it relatively early. I’m optimistic that the tumour hasn’t metastasised, but it’s still going to be a difficult time for her.’
At her silence, Wentworth turned to face her.
‘Elizabeth, how would you feel about co-authoring a paper with me on this case?’
Elizabeth’s eyes, and she was momentarily struck dumb with surprise. ‘You want me to co-author a journal article?’
Wentworth nodded. ‘I do. I think it’s a wonderful opportunity for you to get published in one of the cardiology periodicals.’
‘But I didn’t do anything, other than observe.’ Elizabeth exclaimed. ‘I’m sure Edward Ferrars has more right to co-author on this case than I do. He assisted, I watched.’
‘Dr Ferrars has numerous papers to his name, Elizabeth, some of them in very prestigious journals.’ Wentworth replied smoothly. ‘And, unfortunately, the last thing his family would appreciate right now is him spending more time on work commitments.’
Elizabeth knew that ‘family’ was limited primarily to ‘fiancée’. Evidently, she hadn’t been the only colleague to whom Dr Ferrars had unburdened his personal woes.
‘It’s not that I wouldn’t love to co-author a paper with the Chief of Surgery,’ Elizabeth replied hesitantly. ‘I just don’t want the other residents thinking that I’m getting preferential treatment. First the Departmental Seminar, now this…’
Wentworth waved away her concerns brusquely.
‘Elizabeth, don’t you think that the other residents have had ample opportunity to submit papers in the year you were away?’ he assured her. ‘They have. It’s hospital policy to encourage residents to publish during their residency.’
Elizabeth chewed her lip nervously.
‘Believe me, Elizabeth, there is nothing preferential about this offer.’ Wentworth stressed firmly. ‘The only difference is that this case comes at a particularly good time, with the Lorne Cardiology conference coming up early next month.’
‘How so?’
‘Well, naturally, as is the norm with our most novel cases, the Department would want one of the authors to present the case as a poster during the conference.’ Wentworth explained. ‘Obviously, due to my increased personal and professional commitments, I will be unable to attend this year, and will rely upon you to be there on my behalf.’
‘I hadn’t intended on attending this year.’ Elizabeth replied, brow furrowed in consternation. ‘I mean, I’ve only just come back from Africa. I don’t think the hospital would look too kindly on its wayward resident taking more time off.’
‘I’ve already taken the liberty of speaking with Professor Lucas, Elizabeth, and if you were to accept he’ll have no hesitation in granting you leave,’ came the reply. ‘After all, it’s not as though you took the last year off to spend time tanning on some tropical island.’
Elizabeth stared mutely ahead.
‘Why don’t you take some time and think about it?’ Wentworth added. ‘Go to the conference website, and look up the schedule of speakers. Who knows, maybe you’ll find something that attracts you, and motivates you to attend. Just don’t take too long coming to a decision.’
Wentworth’s beeper sounded loudly. Quickly glancing at the screen, he apologised for the interruption before striding out the room, leaving Elizabeth staring pensively in the space he had occupied.
William expertly manoeuvred his sleek black Holden into the short-term parking lot at Melbourne Airport, thankful for the GPS that had made a potentially long journey shorter. Standing outside the domestic terminal, it wasn’t long before Charles Bingley had bounded in with the energy of a small tornado, his megawatt smile in full throttle. Approaching his friend, the two men shook hands, slapping each other’s shoulders with all the awkwardness of close male friends reunited after a long separation. Clutching only a small carry-on bag, William directed his friend out to the car.
‘It’s freezing down here,’ Charles declared, warming his hands on the dashboard heater the moment they had bundled into the car.
‘When I first arrived, I remembered everything you had said about the weather being warmer than England and I just wanted to kill you.’ William remembered with a reproachful look.
‘Hey, Perth is warmer than here. Must be because we are closer to the equator or something,’ Charles chirped, holding up his hands in innocence. ‘Instead of killing me, do you think you could feed me instead? I’m starving. The airplane food was revolting.’
William punched in the directions on his GPS, and they departed in obedience to the vocal instructions relayed. Charles kept William amused with tales of his time in Perth, most of them strongly featuring the Jane that he had previously spoken of, and twenty minutes later they pulled into a rare free parking spot outside the restaurant in Lygon Street.
‘What an utterly charming little place!’ Charles exclaimed, as they entered La Cuccina and awaited the maitre de. The aromas of an authentic Italian kitchen lingered in the air, the red and white checked tablecloths beckoning the hungry patrons waiting to be seated. It wasn’t long before the two men were ushered to a quiet corner. Taking their seats and opening their menus, the maitre de left them in the capable hands of the waitress, who expertly rattled off the specials before scurrying away to bring their drinks.
‘So what is good here?’ Charles asked, surveying the menu with knotted brows.
‘Well, I haven’t been here long enough to discover the best places to dine, but this entire precinct is quite famous for it’s Italian cuisine.’ William responded, studying the pages thoughtfully. ‘I came earlier in the week with a colleague and the tagliatelle was quite nice. My colleague ordered a tiramisu that I admit looked particularly tempting.’
‘So your hospital is right around the corner from here?’ Charles queried as he turned the pages studiously. ‘That must be convenient for you.’
‘On the contrary, once I begin my proper work load it’s going to be agony knowing that this strip is so near and yet so damned out of reach.’ William replied. ‘I’m going to be at the mercy of the Memorial cafeteria I am afraid.’
‘So, now that you’re here, what are your immediate plans?’ Charles asked curiously.
‘Well, being allowed access to patients is obviously the first,’ William replied dryly. ‘Finalising ethics approval so that the trial of our new ACE inhibitor drug can start is second. Third will be trying to convince more clinics in the region to trial it.’
‘Well being the medical ignoramus that I am, how are you going to manage to do that without blowing your cover?’
William shrugged nonchalantly.
‘There’s a Cardiology conference in someplace called Lorne next month. I’m hoping that it will provide me with an opportunity to find other groups willing to collaborate with Darcy Pharmaceuticals and participate in the trials.’
‘Lorne?’ Charles queried, squinting his eyes as he searched his memory. ‘All the Australian guidebooks I’ve looked through insist that a trip to Lorne is a must for any traveller. Apparently it’s a small town on the ocean, reached by a scenic drive on some famous winding road.’
‘Never heard of it before yesterday, when one of my colleagues first mentioned the conference.’ William replied, snapping his menu shut. ‘It’s hardly the European Cardiology Congress, but apparently it does attract some decent researchers from Australasia. Ready to order?’
Beckoning to the waitress, they placed their order, and the two men chatted amicably as they awaited their meals. News of friends and family was exchanged, although Charles was true to his promise not to drop the C-bomb, although he did profess his surprise at Richards’ temporary elevation to CEO. Before long, their food arrived, and soon their mouths were agreeably engaged in demolishing the mountain of steaming pasta that rose before each of them.
‘So,’ said William at length, applying a liberal sprinkling of Parmesan over his remaining gnocchi. ‘Not that I don’t appreciate the visit, but don’t you think its time you came clean as to the real reason why you flew hours to come here?’
Charles shrugged nonchalantly, twirling his pasta around his fork with exaggerated concentration. ‘Can’t a man have lunch with his closest mate without raising suspicion?’
‘Charles, ever since you arrived here, you’ve called me twice in total, and sent me three single line emails,’ William replied, lowering his fork. ‘And suddenly, you’ve evidently cleared your entire schedule to fly thousands of kilometres to see me. So I repeat, what is the real reason behind this?’
Charles shifted in his seat uncomfortably. ‘Am I really that transparent?’
‘You’ve just forgotten how good I am at reading you,’ William grinned. ‘Does this have something to do with that woman you’ve been dallying with up in Perth? Jane wasn’t it?’
‘Dallying?’ Charles retorted indignantly, dropping his cutlery hastily onto the table. Wiping his mouth on the napkin, he reached into his pocket, producing a small velvet box. Opening it deftly, he thrust the enormous diamond solitaire nestled within under William’s eyes. ‘Does this look like I’m a man who is dallying?’
William looked at the ring, his eyes widening briefly. Taking a small sip of his mineral water, he fixed his gaze upon his friend, struggling to remain composed. ‘You plan to propose to this woman?’
‘I do,’ Charles replied, his eyes scrutinising Williams face. ‘I love her William. I want her with me forever.’
‘I see,’ William stated, leaning back in his chair. He paused. ‘It’s a big commitment.’
‘And one that I’m ready to make,’ Charles retorted smoothly, his eyes bright.
‘Well, I must admit that of all the reasons I could think of for your visit, this comes as quite the surprise,’ William responded, wiping his mouth on his napkin. ‘Can I ask what the rush is?’
‘I’m not rushing anything. I just simply do not need any more time to know my heart.’ Charles replied, gazing at the sparking jewel, face besotted. ‘I’ve had enough of the bachelor tag, and the invasion of privacy that comes with those paparazzi thinking I’m fair game for harassment. I’ve met a wonderful woman, who is both beautiful and smart, and I’ll be a fool to pass that up.’
‘I see,’ William repeated, jaw set.
‘Is that all you’re going to say?’ Charles retorted in exasperation, running a hand through his hair.
‘Well, what else would you like me to say, Charles?’ William snapped, throwing his hands in the air. ‘Congratulations? That I’m happy for you? Or would you prefer the truth, that I think you ‘re making a decision you’ll live to regret?’
Charles snapped the ring box shut and clenched his jaw. ‘If that’s what you truly feel, then sure. Anything is better than ‘I see’, however misguided those feelings are. At least it shows that you give a damn.’
‘Of course I give a damn. Charles, you’re like a brother to me.’ William softened his tone. ‘And because I look upon you like a brother I am not going to sugarcoat this. I’m going to give it to you straight. I’ve known you for all of your adult life. And though it pains me to say this, and it will pain you to hear it, you don’t exactly have the best track record for commitment.’
‘I’m not listening to this rubbish again,’ Charles retorted angrily, his voice rising.
‘Because you know it’s the truth,’ William retorted hotly. ‘How long have each of your previous relationships lasted? A week, a month, maybe two?’
‘I’ve been with Jane for over five months, William,’ Charles muttered angrily.
‘And that’s most likely due to the fact that she hasn’t given you the one thing that every other woman has been quick to offer you,’ William replied, raising his eyebrow knowingly. ‘Sexual frustration is hardly a healthy basis for a long and lasting marriage.’
‘I told you it’s not just about sex.’ Charles retorted, his voice carrying throughout the restaurant. At the startled looks from fellow patrons, he leaned over the table, his voice low and angry. ‘I’m not your cousin, and this is not a game. I love her, all of her. Of course I desire her. But there’s so much more that I love about her than her body: the way she laughs when she’s happy, the shyness is her eyes when I compliment her, the gentleness of her nature. It’s not just about sex.’
William studied Charles silently, his face grave. He had seen Charles in love before, but he had never seen him fall so completely and utterly, so dangerously.
‘And no doubt she’s encouraged the development of your affections with profuse declarations of her own.’ William stated slowly.
Charles sat back, breathing deeply. ‘Everything about our interaction together shows me, more than words could, how much she loves me,’ he replied, his voice slightly tentative.
‘More than words could?’ William echoed, his brow furrowed in confusion.
‘You have to understand that Jane is very shy,’ Charles responded hesitantly. ‘She grew up with only four sisters, and the only man in the house, her father, died a few years ago. She doesn’t have a lot of experience with men. She didn’t date a lot, probably because her beauty intimidated a lot of men. She is naturally guarded with her feelings.’
William pondered over the statement with dawning incredulity.
‘You mean you’ve purchased an engagement ring to propose to a woman who hasn’t even verbally expressed her feelings for you?’
Charles opened his mouth briefly before clamping his lips shut, eyes fixed on the neglected pasta cooling on his plate.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ William growled in a low voice. ‘Are you insane?’
‘It’s not what you think.’ Charles replied defensively. ‘You don’t know Jane like I do, so don’t you dare judge her. Who the hell are you to judge anyone?’
An image of Dr Elizabeth Bennet, parading confidently on stage during the Departmental Seminar, flashed briefly through William’s mind.
‘There are more ways to say ‘I love you’ than words.’ Charles spat. ‘Surely you of all people should know just how cheap words can be.’
‘And it’s because of that that I don’t want to see you make the same mistakes and have the same regrets in life that I’ve had to shoulder.’ William retorted sharply.
‘Loving Jane would not be a mistake,’ Charles replied passionately.
‘But marrying her without even being assured of her feelings towards you, would be.’ William stated emphatically.
They were interrupted by the waitress nervously enquiring about the meal that lay uneaten in front of them. William reassured her, as Charles sat sullenly, staring at his lap. As she flitted off, William edged his seat closer to his friend.
‘Look, Charles.’ William began in a conciliatory tone. ‘You’ve obviously come this way because you value my opinion, and that’s not a trust that I take lightly. It’s obvious that you have deep feelings for this woman.’
‘I do,’ Charles interrupted fervently. ‘I have no doubt you would love her almost as much as I do, if only you knew her.’
William thought back to all of the plastic blonde socialites Charles had favoured previously with his attentions and fought to suppress his grimace.
‘If you truly love her, and you have confidence in her feelings for you, then you’ll be willing to wait to propose,’ he stated..
‘Wait?’ Charles growled, his expression incredulous. ‘I’m leaving the bloody country in a bloody week.’
‘You know what I mean.’ William sighed, rasing his brow pointedly.
‘So, what are you suggesting? That I just walk away from this amazing woman?’ Charles spluttered aghast. ‘And for what purpose?’
‘It’s the only way to determine that your feelings and hers are truly sincere,’ William reasoned.
‘So you think going through the agony of separation is the only way to prove that I truly love her?’ Charles exclaimed.
‘Excuse me, but it’s not your feelings that I doubt.’
Charles sat flabbergasted, shaking his head slightly, as he stared at William as though he hardly recognised him.
‘Have you given any thought to your parents and how they will react if you were to come home engaged to a woman they’ve never met?’ William pressed.
‘It’s my life, William,’ Charles hissed vehemently. ‘Mine. Not theirs.’
‘True, it’s your life,’ William assented. ‘And it’s a life which has been financially supported by your fathers’ wealth. He’s made no secret of the fact that he has rather ambitious plans for you that don’t include marrying an unknown Australian woman. How do you propose to deal with his anger in that event?’
‘Oh please, cut the crap,’ Charles snorted sarcastically. ‘We both know that those plans revolve around me marrying any bloody woman from any bloody aristocratic family, my own feelings be damned. He’ll do anything to remove the taint of the new money label, even if it means prostituting his own son. I’m not willing to sacrifice my personal happiness for his stupid quest for acceptance.’
William stared at his friend.
‘And don’t even mention Mother,’ Charles continued angrily. ‘Why the hell would I even consider giving Jane up for the sake of a woman who abandoned her own children to the care of nannies and boarding schools, just so she could devote her time to worming herself into the highest social circles?
‘You’re angry…’
‘Damn right,’ Charles seethed. ‘Don’t bring my parents into this, in the hopes of emotionally blackmailing me, and not expect me to be angry. If I lived my life the way they wanted me to, then I’d be engaged to your under-age sister just so they could boast about having an earl’s niece as their daughter-in-law.’
‘Look, I’m sorry I mentioned them, but I wanted you to be aware of the consequences of your actions. Your parents disapproval aside, tell me what harm is there in waiting?’ William insisted. ‘Go back to England and get some perspective. Give it a few months, and if your feelings and hers are constant then you can take things further.’
Charles picked up his glass and gulped his wine morosely.
‘If you do this, I promise you that when the time comes and you do offer your hand, I’ll support you in any way humanely possible, with or without your fathers approval.’ William continued, pained to see Charles’ discomposure. ‘Just don’t marry in haste and repent at leisure.’
‘She’ll be so far away…’ Charles muttered, obviously inattentive.
‘Surely love can overcome any obstacle that time and distance can throw at it?’ William stated. ‘What other way to test the strength of a relationship?’
Charles remained in stony-faced silence.
‘Deep down you know that what I’m saying makes sense.’ William continued, running his hand through his hair. ‘Why else would you have you come all this way to seek my advice, after you have already purchased an obviously expensive engagement ring, if you didn’t have doubts in your own mind?
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Charles retorted.
‘Is it? I’ve known you my entire adult life, and when the Charles Bingley I know firmly decides upon doing something, he jumps into it with little warning and with no consultation.’
‘I didn’t come here to seek justification to act on my feelings.’ Charles repeated soberly, eyes downcast. ‘I came here because I wanted my closest friend in the world to be the first to know, and the first to congratulate me. But I guess I know the true Fitzwilliam Darcy as little as he knows the real me.’
‘Charles,’ William felt his chest tightening. ‘This is the first time we’ve seen each other in months, and I don’t want things between us to turn sour. You must know that I never intended to hurt you.’
‘I know that you’re concerned. I guess I should appreciate that at least,’ Charles replied slowly, casting a glance at his watch. ‘Look, I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’ll cut my trip shorter than I anticipated. Can you drive me to the airport, or will I need to call a taxi?’
William looked affronted. ‘You’re just going to leave.’
‘I have only one week left with Jane before I leave for home. You might think me the lovesick fool, but I want to spend every possible minute with her,’ Charles responded quietly.
William nodded. ‘And so you’re….’
‘Going to wait?’ Charles interrupted. ‘I am only resolved to act in that manner which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness. Don’t ask for more than that.’
‘Okay,’ said William quietly. His gaze fell on the congealed pasta resting on Charles plate, and he felt a pang of remorse upon remembering his friends’ earlier hunger. ‘You didn’t finish your pasta, Charles. Can I entice you to have some tiramisu instead?’
Charles shook his head.
‘I seem to have lost my appetite, William,’ Charles explained, as he stared absentmindedly over William’s head.
The atmosphere of the trip back to Tullamarine was vastly different from the one they had enjoyed earlier in the day. Charles remained pensive, answering any question directed at him with monosyllables spoken in a dejected monotone. A gnawing sense of regret was eating away at William at the thought of hurting his dearest friend, but deep down William knew that his intentions had been noble and just: deep concern for his friend’s future happiness. As they pulled into the terminal, Charles tersely turned to William and halted his attempt to accompany him into the building. Sticking out his hand, Charles stared at it distractedly for a nanosecond longer than was polite before he finally reached out to shake it. Before turning to leave, Charles finally spoke.
‘One day, if you ever overcome the past and your own mistrust, you’ll find a woman that will capture your heart completely with her love, beauty and goodness, in the same way that Jane has captured mine,’ Charles spoke wearily, eyes filled with sadness. ‘She’ll complete you, and fill your world with her presence, so much so that you’ll feel like your life is empty in her absence.’
He paused.
‘I only hope that when that day comes, you never experience the pain of having your family and friends try to separate you from her. And if I live to see the day, I hope that I’ll be kinder to you, than you have been towards me.’
With these words, Charles turned hastily and strode into the terminal, leaving William, for the second time that week, standing alone and thoroughly humbled.
© 2007 Copyright held by the author.