The January Wish (9 page)

But maybe
this
was supposed to be her second chance—getting to know Grace and being some kind of mother-figure in her life. Sure she’d missed the early years, but mothering didn’t stop when the child grew up. That’s what her mother had said, when sixteen-year-old Sylvia briefly wondered, ‘What if I
could
bring this baby up myself?’

‘You’ll never be able to become a doctor if you keep this baby,’ her father had said, and he was right. Maybe she could have done it later on, but being a young single mother would have been hard enough. Although her heartbreak grew as her belly grew, Sylvia knew it was the best choice. The only choice. If she’d missed out on her dream she would have resented Grace, even though it wouldn’t have been her fault.

A few minutes later, Grace walked victoriously out of the bookstore. ‘Looks like I
will
be staying here for a while!’

‘You got the job, already?’

Grace nodded and smiled. ‘Like she said, they needed someone right away. They’re going to start training me tomorrow.’

Even though her life had already changed in the few days since Grace’s arrival, there was no doubt about it, Sylvia’s life was about to change even more.

‘Nice house,’ Grace commented as they walked up the steps to the front porch. ‘Who’s that?’ She discreetly eyed the house next door.

‘That’s Nancy.’ Sylvia chuckled as Nancy took up residence in her usual position. She tried to be inconspicuous, but was always visible through the slightly open curtain of her kitchen window.

‘Bit of a stalker by the looks of it.’

‘Ah, she’s harmless,’ Sylvia said.

‘Do you ever speak to her?’

‘Not really, we wave to each other sometimes, and I’ve tried to be nice when we’ve crossed paths out front, but she’s pretty quiet. I think she’s lonely. Doesn’t get many visitors, although I can’t be sure, because I’m not here during the day.’

‘Maybe you should bring her a cake or something,’ Grace suggested.

‘Maybe.’

Sylvia let Grace through the door first, into the small entry foyer that merged with the modern kitchen to the left, and gave way to the open plan dining and living area on the right. Neutral tones of beige with a hint of caramel unified the interior and there were accents of burgundy in the sofa cushions, a lamp, and a vase on the dining table. Sylvia loved that her place was easy to maintain, probably because she didn’t have visitors very often, and certainly no kids. As an only child, she hadn’t been subjected to visits from unruly nieces or nephews, and her three cousins and their kids lived interstate. She didn’t even own a pet. Sylvia was used to living alone, but sometimes on a Sunday afternoon, or a Friday night, she wondered what it would be like to share her life with someone. She’d had a glimpse of that scenario with Richard, but had never really felt completely comfortable with anyone before. There was always this niggling feeling that she had to put on a performance, appear to be the model girlfriend. In a way, being single was a relief.

‘Nice,’ Grace said as she scanned the room. ‘So tidy.’

‘Thanks.’ Sylvia pulled a book from her alphabetised collection in the bookcase near the dining table. ‘Here’s
The Woman in White
.’

Grace took hold of the book. ‘Great, thanks! Wow, it even looks old. I love books that have that ancient appearance, makes you just want to curl up in front of a fireplace and read them.’ Grace held the book to her chest.

‘Although not in this weather!’ Sylvia remarked. ‘Can I get you a tea or coffee, or a cold drink?’

‘A cold drink please. Whatever you have is fine.’

‘Okay. First though, I just have to duck to the bathroom,’ said Sylvia, pointing down the hall.

‘Sure.’ Grace slipped her sandals off with her toes and walked into the expansive living area. ‘Oh wow, you have a piano?’ Her eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning.

‘Oh, that old thing? It belongs to my mum, she used to teach. She and my father moved into a unit after Dad retired, but there was no room for it so they brought it here for storage. She couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it.’

‘May I?’ Grace gestured towards the piano, raising her eyebrows.

‘Sure, go for your life. I’ll be back in a tick,’ Sylvia said as she scurried down the hallway and into the bathroom.

So the day’s gone well,
she thought, apart from the encounter with Mark. No wonder he’d said he might see her there. He must have been trying to drum up business for his new start at the clinic. Why did she feel so awkward around him?

Sylvia flushed the toilet, and as the sound abated it was replaced with music. A beautiful melody filtered through the walls of the bathroom.
What the?
Was that really…
Grace
playing?

Sylvia opened the door quietly and edged out into the hall where she could see Grace sitting at the piano, playing the keys enthusiastically.
Oh my God. She’s brilliant!
Sylvia stayed in the hall and listened until Grace finished playing and turned to look at Sylvia.

‘Oh, I didn’t know you were watching, hope you don’t mind me giving it a good workout. If there’s a piano in the vicinity I can’t help myself.’

Sylvia seemed stuck to the floor.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Grace…that was amazing!’ Sylvia walked slowly towards Grace, as if walking too fast would somehow destroy the memory of what she’d just heard. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you could play piano?’

‘It didn’t come up in conversation I guess. Anyway, it’s just something I do for fun; we’ve got a piano back home. My mum plays—er,
played
too.’ Grace stood.

‘With that level of skill, you must have had many lessons over the years?’ Sylvia asked.

‘Not really. I had a few when I was about thirteen, but they got interrupted by…’

Sylvia nodded, waiting for her to continue.

‘Um, never mind, I ah…just got out of the habit of going to lessons. Most of the time I taught myself, and Mum taught me a little too, but she was better at playing than teaching—too impatient!’

‘Seriously, you should be doing something with that talent. You really are amazing.’

‘I could go on one of those television talent shows but I’d get heaps nervous. I’ve never even performed in front of anyone before, except my parents, my cats—who aren’t with us anymore, God rest their little souls—and now
you
.’

‘Well, anytime you want to practise, feel free to come over and use it. It’s just sitting there gathering dust.’

‘Thanks, I’d love to,’ Grace responded.

‘Oh, let me get you that drink.’ Sylvia poured two glasses of juice and plopped in a few ice cubes before handing a glass to Grace.

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. And thank
you
for that little performance.’ Sylvia clinked her glass to Grace’s, and a smile of astonishment graced her face.

I don’t think she has any idea how good she really is.

Sylvia had an idea, a great idea, but she’d bring it up with Grace at a later time. She didn’t want to scare her off.

‘Welcome to your first day, Mark,’ Joyce chirped as Mark walked into the clinic on Monday morning carrying his equipment from yesterday. ‘How did your stall at the markets go?’

‘Really well, thanks. Got quite a few bookings out of it. Here are the adjustments to my appointment schedule,’ Mark said, handing Joyce a sheet of paper.

‘Thanks, I’ll get these into the computer system now for you.’

‘Thanks Joyce, you’re a gem.’

‘Just doing my job.’ She smiled. ‘Morning Sylvia,’ she said as Sylvia walked into the clinic at precisely eight-thirty.

‘Good morning Joyce, Mark.’

‘Sylvia.’ Mark gave a quick nod of his head. ‘Well I better get organised, first patient’s at nine-thirty, right?’

‘Right.’ Joyce nodded.

Mark closed the door to the consultation room behind him. He set his iridology camera up on the desk, plugged in his laptop, and turned the power points on. He checked that his dark field microscope was working then laid out the small boxes containing glass slides and cover slips so they were within easy reach. He opened the filing cabinet and withdrew the files of existing patients who were coming today. Even though the old clinic at his father’s pharmacy was about thirty minutes drive away, many of his patients had agreed to continue seeing him after he moved to Tarrin’s Bay. This pleased Mark; although he was a proactive promoter of his business, he didn’t want to have to start again completely from scratch.

He placed the files on the desk then added a few empty files to the pile, to be filled with the history, complaints and concerns of patients he had yet to meet. He always enjoyed seeing a new patient for the first time, finding out what they wanted help with and assessing their state of health before working out a treatment program. Sometimes he’d try to guess what they were coming to see him about as soon as they entered the room. Sometimes he was right, and sometimes he wasn’t. Once he presumed that a young, slim woman entering his room was perhaps coming to him for help with headaches, or tiredness, but in fact she had breast cancer and was about to undergo aggressive treatment. She’d wanted to know if there was anything to support her body during the treatment, and had eagerly accepted an acupuncture treatment there and then to calm her nerves.

Mark had seen a huge range of complaints in his seven years of clinical practice. Some minor, some major, but each and every one fuelled his motivation to maintain an optimal state of health himself. Congruence was important in his profession. He had to practise what he preached and set a good example. He was a confident practitioner, and knew if his patients did what he said there was every chance they would improve in some way. But he also knew there were cases that just couldn’t be fixed. He’d learned that the hard way two years ago.

Knock, knock.

Joyce popped her head into the room after Mark asked, ‘Yes?’

‘I’m just getting myself a coffee, can I get you anything?’ she asked.

Unaccustomed to this sort of hospitality at work, Mark shifted his stance awkwardly. ‘Oh, a peppermint tea would be great, thanks Joyce.’

Minutes later she brought in a plain white mug, steam rising and curling as the peppermint scent reached his nose. He blew gently into the tea and it bubbled and rippled, then he took a few slow sips, before placing it on a coaster next to his penholder.

At a quarter past nine, he was ready and waiting for his first patient to arrive. He’d heard what appeared to be Sylvia’s quick footsteps going down the hall twice already. He’d noticed her smart heeled shoes when she walked in this morning; beige coloured with a tiny pearl on the tip of each one. Sensible but sexy, in a classy way. She really should be in
this
room, he thought, as it was closest to the waiting room and she need only duck her head out the door to summon the next patient.

It had been nice to see Sylvia at the markets, even though she seemed to be trying to avoid him. The glow of her red hair in the sunlight had reminded him of rich red autumn leaves. He’d noticed that the girl, Grace, had similar hair. She must be Sylvia’s niece or something, or even a young cousin perhaps. After what Grace had told him in confidence yesterday he was anxious for her appointment on Wednesday to come around. He enjoyed challenging cases and hoped he’d be able to help her. She certainly needed it.

Knowing he had time to spare, Mark closed his eyes and breathed deeply, visualising the day being a success. He’d tried to do this at the start of each day in the past, but some days had a life of their own and seemed to be one endless rush hour. Not anymore. Things were going to change, starting now. He was in a new town, with new people, and a new job. It was time to take control.

‘Denise Fairweather?’ Mark quietly called as he opened his door and peered into the waiting room which was now a bustling lobby. An overweight woman of about fifty rose from her chair, smiling as she walked towards him.

‘Hi,’ she said, as Mark led her to the consulting room.

‘Nice to meet you Denise, I’m Mark. How can I help you today?’

Denise settled in the armchair, sighing with a smile and commenting on how comfortable it was. ‘Well, a friend of mine sees a naturopath in the next town and said I should see one too, and when I saw that you were starting at the clinic this week I thought I’d try it out. I’m a patient of Dr Greene’s you see, so it makes sense to come here. With you two and my physio, it’s now a one-stop-shop!’

Mark smiled and nodded, keeping quiet to allow her to continue.

‘The thing is, I’m at risk for diabetes. Runs in my family. I’ve been diagnosed with insulin resistance and metabolic syndrome, and Dr Greene has had me on some medication as of two months ago, but the progress is slow and I’m feeling so tired. Can’t lose weight either. I was wondering if there’s anything to help boost my energy and speed up the results?’

‘Sure, once I’ve assessed your overall health I’ll have a better idea of where things stand, but I’m confident we can get some improvements happening.’

‘Oh, that’s good. I just hope I haven’t left it too late.’

‘Denise, it’s never too late to make positive changes.’

Over the past few months, Mark had been trying to make a few of his own.

Inspired after her consultation with Mark Bastian, Grace stepped out the door of Tarrin’s Bay Medical Clinic and took a deep breath of warm salty air. She hadn’t seen Sylvia at the clinic. She’d obviously been in her room with a patient both when Grace had arrived and when she’d left. Not to worry, she wouldn’t have had time to chat anyway, and they’d arranged to go to the movies together on the weekend.

This week the focus was on her new job at Mrs May’s Bookstore, and giving her health some attention. Mark had spent about an hour with her, asking questions and performing various tests. She’d already had the iridology done, so that saved some time. She’d been amazed to see the photos of her eyes up close and to learn what each marking meant, but she was even more amazed when Mark took a tiny drop of blood from her fingertip and in an instant her blood cells were visible on the monitor. It was like a whole other universe. She could see cells floating around like bubbles and tiny white dots dancing on the screen. Mark explained what everything was, but she’d already forgotten. Anyway, it had been really cool to see.