Russ shut the door andsat on the corner of his desk. He knew these were the final divorce papers fromPaula's solicitor. Forcing down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat,he slid his finger under the flap and tore the envelope open.
He scanned thepaperwork before calling his receptionist again. "Carol, I need a fewminutes to myself. I'll let you know when I'm ready for the next patient."He put down the phone and sat in his chair. A wave of sadness washed over him. So,she has made her mind up and now there’s no going back, no matter how much Imight want to.
Holding the papers inhis hand was hard. He took time to read them before picking up a pen. Layingthe papers on his desk, he signed where marked and put them in the returnenvelope before he could stall. He had to accept she wouldn’t change. Not thathe wanted her back. It was too late for reconciliation. Russ couldn't lovesomeone who refused to see past the financial gains. Paula could neverunderstand why he continued to work in the public hospital system and why itmeant so much more to him than having his own practice.
He was happy workingwithin the public system, able to go wherever he was needed. The money was goodenough and he wasn't stuck in one place for too long. Lately though, he’d felta need to get away from the chaos and rush of the city. Sydney was great forstudy and work but with his marriage breakdown, it was all too overpowering andhurried.
With a rush ofnostalgia came the sudden urge to go home but he doubted his father wouldwelcome him with open arms. Memories of his childhood raced through his mindand he leaned back in his chair. The large fig trees in the front yard wherehis brother and sister sat high in the branches, pelting him with the smallhard figs that littered the crushed granite driveway.
His thoughts driftedback to the last time he’d stood on that drive with his father. Bitternesshad crept into the old man's voice when Russ returned for his mother's funeral.
"If you’d hungaround, you would at least have noticed she was ill and done something aboutit. She would have listened to you." His father scowled and poked hisfinger into Russ's chest before turning from him. Giving up, Russ climbed intohis car and slammed his hand on the steering wheel in frustration. He turnedthe key, starting the engine as his father turned back to him once more.
"You can tell yoursister she's gone too. I'm not going to waste my time on that one."
"I don't knowwhere she is."
"Don't go makingit my fault, sonny. Laying naked in the barn with that useless boy from downthe road. I'm sure if it was your daughter, you would have done the same. Justlucky he got away from me when he did, all I can say."
His father walked away,leaving him alone in front of the high pillars and wide veranda, the historicalhome devoid of life and the happy family that should be living there. The sunwas setting and cast shadows over the red brick walls. He felt a shiver overhis skin as he drove away without looking back.
Russ swallowed the bitternessbefore he opened his door and strode angrily out to reception, handing over thesealed envelope before he could take it back. "Could you make sure thisgoes in today's mail please, Carole?"
"Sure, DoctorWilliams. Are you ready now for your next patient?"
"Certainly. Who isit?"
"Mr Watson. He'sin the waiting room."
The rest of the daypassed in a blur of patients and paperwork. As he walked out of the hospital,the fatigue settled in. Weariness seeped into his bones and numbed his mind ashe made his way home to his flat. Russ parked his car and locked it beforewalking to the letterbox. He leaned his head against the wall as he collectedthe envelopes protruding from the slot with his flat number on it.
His lower back musclesscreamed in pain as he looked at the flight of stairs. He grabbed the rail andlooked at the climb in front of him. All twenty two of them taunted his sore,tired body. Russ pulled himself up, only stopping when he reached the top.
Fidgeting to find theright key, he opened the door. Life was getting too damned hard. He walked upthe tiny hallway into the kitchen and dropped the mail on the counter. Maybe heshould look at moving to a slower pace of life. A country hospital or practicewould suit him more than the bustle of city life. He let the thought take rootin his mind as he grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked through to thelounge room. His mother had encouraged him to reach his potential and grow,something he wasn't doing in his present position. With a sigh, he fell intohis favourite chair—the only piece of furniture Paula left him—resting his headback, and let his mind wander while he sipped his beer.
He chewed over the ideawhile sipping the cold brew before he got up and threw the empty can in thetrash. Logging on, he went to the site for medical vacancies and trolledthrough the job opportunities. A few years in a country practice is startingto sound just like what I need to get myself back on track.
He thought briefly ofgoing overseas and spending some time in the French countryside where he’dback-packed as student with a group of friends. Quickly, he discarded that ideain favour of staying in Australia where his roots were.
Doctor needed. Incharge position. Small country hospital. Immediate start, housing provided.
Russ gazed at thewords, his heart pounding as he thought about. Small towns didn't have the rushof humanity found in the big cities. The pace was more relaxed and certainlyfriendlier. You actually got to know who your neighbour was. Here Russ had noidea who lived next door. The thought of coming home in the evenings and wavingto people he knew was appealing. His wounded pride could do with the change ofpace and he looked at the closing date for applications.
Shit, today.
