well and truly locked away and you won’t get hurt.
So that was what he’d done at the hospital. He’d been nice and polite to everyone. He’d joined in with jokes, he’d gone on dates but at no time had he ever made a serious commitment to anyone. He’d been like a leaf on the wind.
That had been until he’d come to Didja. The people of this community didn’t allow doctors to treat them as numbers, or as just another patient. They were people in their own right and they demanded their doctors acknowledge that and get involved not only in the community but in other people’s lives. Some of his closest friends were also his patients, which made the level of treatment at the Didja Clinic that of first-class quality.
Dex had changed a lot in the past two years. Even he could see it. Didja had been good for him and he’d come to realise that offering compassion, offering a listening ear, showing people he really cared could also go a long way in restoring them to full health.
It made him wonder what type of care Iris had received. Had her treating doctors viewed her as a person or just a number? Emotional wounds took far longer to heal thanphysical wounds, something he was well aware of himself. Had Iris been nurtured through her healing process? With the way she was sobbing now, he had his doubts.
Dex stopped rubbing her back, not wanting her to think he was being insensitive. He still held her close, though the tears were now starting to subside. He fished in his pocket for a handkerchief and pulled one out, getting it ready to offer.
‘I want to forget about what happened,’ she said softly, her words a little more controlled then before. ‘I don’t want to forget Tim but I want to forget what happened. I want the memory—the vivid, Technicolor memory—of that awful day to be wiped away.’ Iris eased back, sniffing as she raised red-rimmed eyes to look at Dex.
‘Tim was your husband?’
‘Yes.’
‘How long were you married?’ His questions were soft and caring.
‘Two years.’ Iris swallowed and accepted the handkerchief he offered. She gave him an embarrassed smile. ‘I must look a sight.’
Dex shrugged. ‘Even if you do—and I’m not saying I agree with that statement—who’s going to know?’
‘You.’ Iris eased from his arms and sat in the closest chair. ‘I can’t believe I had such an outburst.’
‘I wouldn’t call it an outburst as such.’ Dex sat next to her, bringing his chair a little nearer.
‘I would.’
Dex shook his head. ‘Well, it was a fairly tame one.’ He leaned back in the chair and looked up at the starry sky. ‘When I found out I was adopted, after my parents confirmed the contents of Melissa’s letter to be the truth, I had an outburst and it was nowhere near as sedate as yours.’
Iris was intrigued. ‘What did you do?’
‘I decided to wrap my very expensive Ferrari around a tree.’
‘On purpose?’
Dex exhaled slowly. ‘At the time, I wasn’t sure. I was just so angry, so out of control that I wanted to get away from everyone and everything and so I drove. I just drove and drove, going faster around the corners, heading away from civilisation and everything it stood for. The power of the machine, the noise from the engine. I wanted it all to wipe out my thoughts, my feelings—and then I woke up in hospital.’
‘You don’t remember the accident?’
‘No, but from the pictures Joss showed me of my car, which was literally wrapped around a tree, it’s a complete miracle I survived.’
‘You’re lucky.’
‘Lucky I survived or lucky I don’t remember what happened?’
‘Both.’ Iris couldn’t believe how nice, how understanding, how human Dex was being. Melissa had told her that there were more layers to him than just the surface ones and she couldn’t believe he was letting her see them. Perhaps he felt compelled to share given that she’d all but soaked his T-shirt with her tears. ‘But more that you don’t
So that was what he’d done at the hospital. He’d been nice and polite to everyone. He’d joined in with jokes, he’d gone on dates but at no time had he ever made a serious commitment to anyone. He’d been like a leaf on the wind.
That had been until he’d come to Didja. The people of this community didn’t allow doctors to treat them as numbers, or as just another patient. They were people in their own right and they demanded their doctors acknowledge that and get involved not only in the community but in other people’s lives. Some of his closest friends were also his patients, which made the level of treatment at the Didja Clinic that of first-class quality.
Dex had changed a lot in the past two years. Even he could see it. Didja had been good for him and he’d come to realise that offering compassion, offering a listening ear, showing people he really cared could also go a long way in restoring them to full health.
It made him wonder what type of care Iris had received. Had her treating doctors viewed her as a person or just a number? Emotional wounds took far longer to heal thanphysical wounds, something he was well aware of himself. Had Iris been nurtured through her healing process? With the way she was sobbing now, he had his doubts.
Dex stopped rubbing her back, not wanting her to think he was being insensitive. He still held her close, though the tears were now starting to subside. He fished in his pocket for a handkerchief and pulled one out, getting it ready to offer.
‘I want to forget about what happened,’ she said softly, her words a little more controlled then before. ‘I don’t want to forget Tim but I want to forget what happened. I want the memory—the vivid, Technicolor memory—of that awful day to be wiped away.’ Iris eased back, sniffing as she raised red-rimmed eyes to look at Dex.
‘Tim was your husband?’
‘Yes.’
‘How long were you married?’ His questions were soft and caring.
‘Two years.’ Iris swallowed and accepted the handkerchief he offered. She gave him an embarrassed smile. ‘I must look a sight.’
Dex shrugged. ‘Even if you do—and I’m not saying I agree with that statement—who’s going to know?’
‘You.’ Iris eased from his arms and sat in the closest chair. ‘I can’t believe I had such an outburst.’
‘I wouldn’t call it an outburst as such.’ Dex sat next to her, bringing his chair a little nearer.
‘I would.’
Dex shook his head. ‘Well, it was a fairly tame one.’ He leaned back in the chair and looked up at the starry sky. ‘When I found out I was adopted, after my parents confirmed the contents of Melissa’s letter to be the truth, I had an outburst and it was nowhere near as sedate as yours.’
Iris was intrigued. ‘What did you do?’
‘I decided to wrap my very expensive Ferrari around a tree.’
‘On purpose?’
Dex exhaled slowly. ‘At the time, I wasn’t sure. I was just so angry, so out of control that I wanted to get away from everyone and everything and so I drove. I just drove and drove, going faster around the corners, heading away from civilisation and everything it stood for. The power of the machine, the noise from the engine. I wanted it all to wipe out my thoughts, my feelings—and then I woke up in hospital.’
‘You don’t remember the accident?’
‘No, but from the pictures Joss showed me of my car, which was literally wrapped around a tree, it’s a complete miracle I survived.’
‘You’re lucky.’
‘Lucky I survived or lucky I don’t remember what happened?’
‘Both.’ Iris couldn’t believe how nice, how understanding, how human Dex was being. Melissa had told her that there were more layers to him than just the surface ones and she couldn’t believe he was letting her see them. Perhaps he felt compelled to share given that she’d all but soaked his T-shirt with her tears. ‘But more that you don’t
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