He shrugged helplessly, with his hands tighter on the wheel. ‘It became obvious, even to her parents, that we were increasing her suffering without any hope of a future. They finally agreed to a day.’ Although he was talking, she felt it wasn’t to her. Maybe to himself, maybe to his wife, maybe to her parents or his friends, who didn’t understand.

But she was the one listening. She and listening were old friends, too. ‘That must have been heavy on you.’

‘Thank you.’ His face turned towards her. ‘Funny how you pray for someone’s suffering to pass, yet when the time approaches you wish for more time.’

She nodded. ‘I’ve had a little to do with palliative care, with babies who come home to die because nothing can be done for them. I’ve seen that. Felt that tension, that maybe if we waited something would change.’

He nodded. ‘I think you do understand.’

She did. Life was precious. But sometimes the cost was too high.

He sighed. ‘So the morning came.’ His voice dropped and she strained to hear. ‘It was a beautiful day. I think that made it harder. Like that song about the seasons in the sun. Her seasons were all gone and Roslyn needed to sleep in peace, and this machine that hissed in and out, dragging the air in and out of her reluctant lungs, had to let her go. We had to let her go.’

‘And this was two months ago?’ No flipping wonder he’d looked emotionally drained after one night shift. He wasn’t just physically empty, he was also spiritually empty. Her heart ached to give comfort. To him. To Roslyn’s parents. To Roslyn, even.

He said, ‘The machine stopped. I’ll never forget the silence in the room as we watched her heart slow, falter and stop. No breaths. No heart rate. Nothing. What was left of her was gone. It was tragic. Horrible. But Roslyn’s death was a release for us all.’ There was another pause and then he said, ‘Especially Roslyn. Twelve months is a long time to be held back from peace.’ His eyes briefly met hers. ‘But those internal conversations make you guilty, too.’

Ah, guilt. Ava understood feeling guilty even when everyone else said you were innocent. She’d been there. Guilt explained a lot. Poor guy. He’d made the sort of horrible decision she hoped she’d never have to make. ‘It’s tough all around,’ she said, and impulsively rested her hand on his arm. She squeezed and felt his muscles tense under her fingers.

He lifted his other hand and touched hers briefly in appreciation, then put it back on the wheel. He huffed out a pent-up breath. ‘After the funeral, I needed to get out of the city. Thought I’d try remote locum posts. Last month, Weipa …’

Ahhh. ‘This month, Alice.’