The Paramedic's Secret Son

by Rachel Dove

  By watching Harry—her Harry—she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was in there too, right next to Aidan in the beating organ in her chest, and she knew that really he had never left. Now all she needed to do was decide whether she followed the beat of her heart or her head. Her mind was flip-flopping on a daily basis, and she didn’t quite know which one to trust. So she stayed in limbo. Looking for a sign, a concrete reason? She just didn’t know. So she focused on what she did know. The daily grind, her job, her son. Everything else was just too confusing to see clearly.

  With the handover done, the two of them were soon on their way, a princely breakfast fuelling their busy day. And a busy day it turned out to be. Two calls for chest pains, four elderly falls, one woman going into labour at home alone, and more than a dozen slips, scrapes and work-related injuries.

  ‘Wow, London is just full of poorly people today.’ Harry arched his back, shifting in the passenger seat of ambulance seventeen.

  Annabel drove through the city streets, focused on the traffic but flashing him a tired smile. ‘I know, and not one camel in sight.’

  ‘Ha-ha.’ Harry stuck his tongue out at her. ‘Funny. It’s not all desert dust and camels, you know.’

  The next call came in, and Harry took care of the details while Annabel put the lights and sirens on, following the quickest route to the casualty while Harry fed back their ETA to the control room.

  ‘Eight-year-old child, male, difficulty breathing. Mother is very anxious. High temp overnight first controlled with paracetamol and ibuprofen, but now the fever is spiking and he is unable to speak more than a few words without difficulty. Query for a possible asthma attack.’

  Annabel’s lips pursed, and once the road opened up she put her foot down on the accelerator. They pulled up outside the house in no time and were greeted by a man standing at the garden gate. He had a cigarette in one hand and a can of strong lager in the other. Harry nodded at the man, and his eyes focused on Annabel’s.

  ‘You get the equipment; I’ll go in first.’ Annabel rolled her eyes at him, but something about the man made her follow his lead for once. Their priority was the little boy inside. Harry got out and approached the gate.

  ‘Hello, sir—you called for assistance?’

  Annabel worked quickly, Harry talking to the man, who was swaying and bumping into the gate.

  ‘I didn’t. Her indoors did. I told her, Ben’s just trying it on. Coughing and wheezing all night. Kept us all up. He just doesn’t want to go to school. You’re wasting your time, mate, and your little woman here. Last thing I want is another panic-stricken female in the place.’

  ‘Well, we’re here now. Is Ben your son?’ He didn’t like the way the man was sneering at Annabel. He obviously had little respect for women.

  ‘Stepson,’ the man countered, not even looking at Annabel as she came to stand at the side of Harry. Neither of them missed the sneer on his face as he spoke. The man pointed a thumb behind him towards the house, showering ash from his cigarette over himself. ‘She panders to him too much; it’s only a cold.’

  ‘Can we come past, please?’ Harry said, his hand already on the gate. The man slowly and sluggishly moved aside, and Harry caught hold of Annabel’s shirt sleeve, taking one of the kit bags from her and leading her into the property.

  ‘Hello?’ Annabel called into the hallway.

  ‘Up here,’ a panicked female voice said. ‘Quickly, please! Second bedroom on the left.’

  The house was neat and tidy, aside from a full ashtray and a few empty cans littering the coffee table. A sports channel was on in the background, and they could hear the weak murmurs of the boy as they ran up the stairs.

  ‘I told you, you’re wasting your time. Isn’t there anyone else you could be helping? I’ve warned her not to push my buttons.’ The man was shouting up the stairs now, but the paramedics were already focused on the boy laid on the top of a single bed, his mother looking hollow-eyed and utterly panicked.

  ‘Hi, Ben,’ Annabel said, walking into the room as slowly as she could without losing time or panicking the boy. ‘We’re here to help, okay?’

  The little boy was red-faced and because he was bare-chested, wearing only character pyjama bottoms, she could tell from his torso that he was really struggling to breathe. The little mite nodded, and the pair of them got to work. They listened to his chest, put a monitor on his finger and took his blood pressure.

  ‘Mum, is it?’ Harry said softly, turning to the woman while Annabel hooked Ben up to the portable oxygen tank they had carried in.

  ‘Julie, yeah. Is he going to be okay?’

  ‘We’re here to get him sorted; this oxygen will help him breathe better, get his stats back up,’ he said smoothly. ‘Has he had any difficulties like this before? Any asthma, or any history in the family?’

  The worried mother shook her head, never taking her eyes off the boy. ‘No, nothing like that. I don’t think the smoke’s been helping him though.’ She looked at the doorway now, wide-eyed, as if her partner was standing there, but when Annabel looked, it was empty. The television channel had been changed downstairs, the noise blaring out. ‘He started with a cold a couple of days ago. Nothing major, but after last night I just couldn’t keep his temperature down for long, and now...’

  She crumpled, dropping a kiss on her son’s head and keeping him close.

  ‘Oxygen’s low, decreased breath sounds on both sides,’ Annabel said quietly, and Harry nodded once.

  ‘Julie, we need to pop Ben up to the hospital, get him checked over properly. Can you grab him what he needs, and we’ll set off? It sounds like he’s got a nasty chest infection. I’ll go get a chair. Be ready to transport.’

  He didn’t want to be carrying Ben down the stairs, and he had a feeling that the man downstairs wouldn’t be very pleased with the idea that the emergency services were ‘entertaining’ his stepson and his illness. He walked out of the room, running to the ambulance as soon as the boy was out of sight, heading upstairs with the chair as quickly and nimbly as he could.

  ‘Hey!’ The man got up from the couch as Harry got halfway up the stairs. ‘What the hell are you doing? Woman, I warned you!’

  Harry ignored him, entering the boy’s room and closing the door behind him. He didn’t hear anything further, but the television volume went up again. Harry clenched his jaw and focused on the job in hand. He wanted to get the boy out of this place, and the fact that Annabel was here was making him nervous. The urge to protect her was raging through his body. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being hurt. Someone with a temper and a drink in them was not a good combination.

  Not on my watch, he thought, and they got the boy out of there as fast as they could.

  * * *

  Much later, after Ben was settled in the care of the staff at A&E, Annabel followed Harry out to the ambulance.

  ‘Well, I thought that might go south at one point. I thought we might need to call for police assistance. He was a piece of work, wasn’t he? I felt sorry for them both.’

  Harry didn’t reply, and when they’d got back into the ambulance she looked at him with concern.

  ‘You need a minute? We have a little time, if you need it.’

  ‘I’ll never understand people like that. The poor boy was ill; she’d have called before if it wasn’t for him, I’m sure. He could have got so much worse.’

  ‘He didn’t though; he’s going to be fine. We got to him, got him help.’

  Harry responded through gritted teeth. ‘That’s not the point, and you know it. The kid deserved a father to be there for him.’

  ‘You don’t know that he hasn’t. Families split up; it doesn’t always mean that the father isn’t on the scene, or that he doesn’t care.’

  ‘I hate that Aidan never had that.’ He looked away from her, gazing out at the hospital’s comings and goings. ‘I h
ate that he thinks his father isn’t in his life.’

  ‘It’s not like that, and at the time I—’

  ‘I’m not having a go; it’s just hard, that’s all. I don’t blame you. I get your reasons. I hate them, but I get it. The thought of you getting hurt today... It tore me apart. I would have taken that guy’s head off if he’d come near you.’

  ‘You don’t have to worry. I can look after myself.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m saying. I know you can, but I want to be the one who looks after you too.’

  He grabbed for her hand, taking it into his and placing it in his lap.

  ‘I don’t blame you; I blame myself. For everything.’

  Not knowing what to say, how to make it right, Annabel squeezed his hand and then pulled away, clicking on the console that they were available for another call.

  ‘We’ve got another hour; let’s shake that last call off.’

  He didn’t reply, pulling on his seatbelt and jamming it violently into the holder.

  She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Listen, it’s Friday, and it’s been a week. You got plans for tonight?’

  That turned his head in her direction. She gave him a little smile.

  ‘I think Dad has his poker buddies coming round. I was just planning to stay out of the way. Sleep off the day.’

  ‘Well, as good as that sounds, I was thinking I might have a night off from cooking and order Chinese food with Aidan, maybe watch a film.’ He looked bemused, and she patted his hand. ‘I was thinking you could come over, share some noodles?’

  He still looked drawn, but the lines on his brow lessened as he gave her a grateful smile. ‘Noodles and a movie sound great. What time?’

  * * *

  Annabel, fresh from the shower, listened to Aidan giggle downstairs as he watched one of his favourite TV shows, camped on the couch under his comfy throw. The canned laughter from the comedy show filtered upstairs, and she smiled to herself as she thought of her son, sitting in his pyjamas, waiting for Harry to arrive. He’d be here soon, and the minute they’d left each other in the hospital car park, the butterflies had started. She was looking forward to it so much, and Aidan’s face when she’d told him had made her heart sing.

  They did rattle around a bit in the new house. When he was in bed fast asleep, she ended up going to bed early half the time, bored of sitting alone and looking at the newly decorated walls or the list of stuff she still wanted to get done. Tonight would be a welcome change, and she couldn’t help but think of it as a trial run either. Which meant she found herself wanting to make the effort, just a little.

  She turned to her wardrobe and the half dozen outfits she had picked out as possibilities for the evening. They verged from ballroom attire to full-on sex kitten, and she groaned at her choices.

  ‘Get a grip on yourself,’ she chided her reflection in the mirror. She put them all back into the wardrobe and, heading to her dresser drawer, she pulled out her comfy black jeans and a white T-shirt. There. Not too much, but she did look good. She made to head downstairs, but at the last minute she blow-dried her hair so it fell in waves around her face, and slicked on a little bit of pink lip gloss. ‘There, nothing too much.’

  She nodded at herself in the bedroom mirror and headed downstairs just in time to hear the knock at the door. She took a second to quell the frisson of nerves that fizzed through her body and, taking a deep breath, she stepped into the hall.

  ‘Hi.’ She opened the door to Harry, who looked stunning in a blue checked shirt, open at the neck, paired with dark blue jeans. She wanted to laugh as she took him in but held it back. They had both tried a little too hard to look casual, it seemed. ‘Come in.’

  ‘Hi.’ Harry smiled, stepping into the hallway and looking around him. ‘Wow, the builders really cracked on with the place. It’s looking great.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m still picking dust bunnies up but yeah, it’s getting there now.’

  Annabel motioned him to come into the kitchen, and she noticed for the first time that he was bearing gifts. One was a football, and the other a beautiful bunch of flowers. She’d been so focused on him, she’d never even registered what was in his arms. The lounge in the TV was still playing, and Aidan’s laughter filtered through to them. He hadn’t heard the door.

  ‘Selective hearing,’ she explained. ‘His show finishes soon. Come through?’

  Harry eyed the doorway to the lounge but followed her through with a nod. ‘I brought you some housewarming gifts. Thanks for inviting me tonight; it’s already getting rowdy at home.’

  Annabel’s heart warmed when she heard that he considered Abe’s to be home. The pair of them were so similar, they’d always butted heads. Abe had seemingly let go of the GP father-son dream, and when Annabel saw the two of them these days they seemed to be rubbing along quite nicely together, rowdy card nights aside. It made her so happy, after all those years of them being at loggerheads. It was nice to see, and Abe was far happier and less grumpy to boot. Win-win. He hadn’t even been angry at her for keeping the truth about Aidan a secret, which had surprised her too. Given their struggles over the years, it could have been a heck of a lot worse. Of course, Abe had kept his own counsel for years. He’d never let Annabel know that he’d worked it out. Like she’d said, they were so similar in many ways.

  ‘No problem. Aidan’s been looking forward to it. If he wasn’t glued to his programme, he’d already be in here chewing your ear off.’ She took the flowers from him, leaning in to smell the blooms. ‘Calla lilies too, my favourite.’ Her hair fell over her eye and Harry leaned in, brushing the strand away with his free hand.

  ‘I know. I remember.’ She shivered when his fingertips brushed down her cheek and, closing her eyes, she turned her face into his hand. His eyes went dark and he leaned in, just a fraction. The paper wrapping the flowers being squashed between them rustled as she followed his lead.

  ‘Is that for me?’

  Aidan bounded into the room, and the pair of them sprang apart. Harry threw her a look that made her pulse race and addressed his enthusiastic son.

  ‘Of course it is! I thought, with your new garden being sorted, you could get some practice in.’

  Harry whirled around on the balls of his feet, leaning down to show Aidan the football. Annabel knew it was a decent one; Harry had been eyeing it in the shop the other week when they’d been shopping for new boots.

  ‘It’s so cool! Thanks, Harry! Look, Mum!’ Aidan took the ball from Harry’s hands, showing her his gift.

  ‘Oh, that’s great! We’ll have to get a football net for out back; you can show us some skills.’

  Aidan’s expression was so happy and, looking at Harry’s flushed face, she could tell he was equally elated. His red cheeks also gave him away as feeling just as caught out by their son as she did. The two of them started to chat away, and she busied herself by finding a vase for the flowers. They really were beautiful. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had bought her any. Harry had always been a romantic in the past.

  This is a housewarming gift, though, not a declaration.

  Even her own thoughts sounded unsure. If they hadn’t been interrupted, she’d have kissed him again. Glancing back at Harry, who was looking at her over Aidan’s shoulder, she felt certain that he knew it too.

  * * *

  ‘Another prawn toast?’

  Aidan shook his head, groaning as he patted his little flat tummy. ‘No, thanks, Mum, I’m stuffed!’

  Harry sat back next to him on the couch, patting his own belly. ‘Nor me, I can’t do it.’

  The feast was sitting out on the coffee table, the credits of the family film they had just finished watching rolling on screen.

  ‘Well, more for me then. Waste not, want not!’

  Annabel swooped in for the last piece, eating it in two bites.

  Harry chuckled,
a low rumble. ‘You always were like a dustbin,’ he teased.

  ‘Hey!’ She flicked out a foot from her sideways position on the armchair, trying to kick him. He didn’t flinch, just grabbed her bare foot. His touch made her skin tingle, and he stroked the top of her foot and slowly let it go.

  Aidan was giggling at the side of him ‘He’s right Mum; you always order too much and then eat your way through it.’ He made a snorting pig sound, and Harry joined in. She pretended to glare at them both, and caught Aidan stifling a yawn.

  ‘Well, piglet, I think that means it’s time for you to go to bed.’

  ‘Aww, no!’ he tried to protest, but another yawn cut him off. ‘Okay,’ he said glumly. ‘’Night, Harry.’ He flung himself into Harry’s chest, hugging him tight.

  Harry looked shocked for a half second, before wrapping his arms around him and kissing the top of his head. ‘’Night, kiddo, sleep tight. And hey, if you want a goalie, I’m in.’

  ‘Cool. Can we, Mum?’ He lifted his head to look at his mother, and she found herself a little too choked to speak, seeing the two of them cuddled up on the couch, so natural with each other. She nodded and smiled robotically, pointing a finger towards the hallway.

  ‘I know, I know—brush my teeth. ’Night, Harry!’ He held out a hand and Harry high-fived him back.

  ‘’Night, Aidan. Sleep tight.’

  ‘I won’t be long. Make yourself at home,’ she said over her shoulder as she headed up the stairs after her son.

  Once teeth were brushed and hands and face were washed, Aidan snuggled down under the covers. Annabel tucked him in, turning his dinosaur night light down to low so the room glowed with a dull hue. The light from the landing trickled in, showing Aidan’s tired face over the covers.