A Place To Call Home (Willowbury)

by Fay Keenan

  ‘Feeling better?’ Holly’s expression was unreadable, but Charlie was sure he’d seen the slightest of smiles lifting her mouth at the corners.

  ‘Not much,’ he admitted. ‘But at least I’ve got rid of some of the frustrations.’

  ‘Lucky you.’

  An uncomfortable pause fell like the raindrops between them, made all the more so by a sudden gust of cold wind.

  ‘Look, can we get off this bloody hill and talk?’ Charlie made to stand up, but Holly’s hand on his knee stopped him.

  ‘No. You’ve come all the way up here, you might as well say what you have to say right here, right now, in the rain.’

  She was drenched from head to foot, but Charlie thought he saw a tear slide out from under her lashes as she raised her eyes to look at him before she scrubbed impatiently at her face.

  ‘OK.’ Charlie drew a deep breath. ‘You were right. You’ve been right this whole time, about my job, about the Department of Health, about the drugs campaign… and I’m hoping it’s not too late to do something about that to show you how right you were.’

  ‘What can you do? It’s over,’ Holly replied. ‘At least as far as you’re concerned. You made that clear when we last spoke, and in that ridiculous interview.’

  ‘Well, not exactly,’ Charlie replied. ‘One of the good things about being a rookie at this job is that, if I make a mistake, people tend to be a bit more forgiving for a while. Provided it’s not too serious, of course.’

  ‘Like involving a duck house or a brothel?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Charlie struggled to his feet, sopping-wet trousers flapping in the breeze. ‘So, from this moment on, I’m putting myself wholeheartedly behind the campaign to get these drugs on the NHS and to get them to Harry.’ He reached out a hand to Holly, who, after a moment’s pause, took it and stood up.

  ‘Forgive me if I’m a little sceptical,’ she said, ‘but you said that to me and Rachel before. Why should we believe you now?’

  Charlie took a risk and reached out a hand to brush the sodden hair from Holly’s forehead, so he could see her eyes better. ‘Because some things are more important than careers. And because you, and your family, are the most important things in the world.’ He felt dizzy as he stared into her eyes. ‘And one day, if you decide you’ll have me, I wouldn’t want to think that our children wouldn’t be able to benefit from the most up-to-date drugs, should they need them.’

  ‘I don’t know, Charlie,’ Holly said. ‘These are great words, but you’re a politician, that’s what you do. I’m struggling to see how that translates into anything actually helpful.’

  ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was wrong to back away because of my career. And I hope it’s not too late to do something about it. I want to put all of my weight, for what it’s worth, behind this campaign. I’ll talk to the committee, start making some proper noise in the House, anything it takes to help get this drug reassessed.’

  ‘But without the backing of the Secretary of State, you’re shouting in the wilderness,’ Holly replied. ‘You’re just one voice, at the end of the day.’

  ‘Wasn’t it you who told me off for saying your plastic bags and litter picks achieved nothing?’ Charlie replied, a note of frustration in his voice. ‘Isn’t it a start?’

  ‘Harry doesn’t have time for grand gestures,’ Holly dropped her hand from Charlie’s. ‘If he gets access to this drug now, he could get another twenty-eight years of life. If he waits until he’s twelve, it’ll be twelve more. Can you see how important this is?’

  ‘What do I have to do to convince you?’ Charlie tried to touch her again, but Holly, agonisingly, stepped out of his reach. ‘Jesus, Holly, I’ll cross the floor if I have to.’ Charlie was referring, of course, to the tradition of MPs who disagreed with the government, leaving their political party to sit on the opposition benches and act as independent candidates, which, at times of national crisis, seemed to happen with alarming regularity.

  ‘Then you’d be out of office quicker than a mouse up your trouser leg,’ Holly said. ‘And absolutely no use to us at all. Politically, at least. You know how Stavenham is about its politicians. They’ve only voted one way in the past twenty-five years.’

  ‘Then let me help. I know I messed up by backing off; my father always moaned at me that I thought too much and did too little, but this time I want to act. I want to make things count. Please, Holly, put your faith in me one more time.’

  ‘What do you propose to do?’ There was just a flicker of hope in Holly’s eyes, now, and Charlie seized on it, quickly.

  Charlie smiled. ‘What if I told you I was going to begin by tabling an Adjournment Debate on it? That your influence on me, and the media, might just be the thing that swings the drug company to lower the price and come back to the government with a deal?’

  ‘Then I’d say you were probably lying. Again,’ Holly snapped. ‘Besides, government has been talking for months. What difference can it make?’

  ‘Go with me for a second, please.’ Charlie took a deep breath. ‘If I can get some time, some real time, on the floor of the House, if I can get this debated, it might just be the step that we need to put those wheels in motion.’

  ‘That sounds very noble and high-minded, Charlie, but am I right in thinking that, by making your first proper speech all about CF drug funding, you’ll be trying to secure your future in the Ministry of Health, and that it’s got nothing to do with Harry, or me, or anything other than your own bloody self-interest?’

  Charlie jerked as if she’d hit him. ‘You know how much I’m risking by going out on a limb with this. The Secretary of State’s decidedly ambivalent about it. One week she’s warning me off, and the next she’s telling me I’ve got the PM’s attention. As far as I can see, my career in the ministry will effectively be fucked either way.’ He reached out and she finally allowed him to take one of her hands in his. Her hands were freezing cold, and he had to resist the urge to pull her into his arms before they both ended up with hypothermia.

  ‘But it could all be for nothing,’ Holly said. ‘And then we’re back where we started. And Harry…’

  ‘At least we’ll know we’ve tried everything we can to get this through.’ Charlie wrapped his other hand over the top of the one of hers he held, shocked by just how cold she felt. ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you. There are some things that are more important than politics. That supersede the bloody party line. This is one of them. You are one of them. And so is Harry. I will fight for you both until my last breath if I have to.’

  Charlie mentally kicked himself at the irony of his ill-thought-out phrase. But when Holly raised her eyes to his, he saw hope there, and something that very much looked like love.

  ‘Will you trust me now?’ he asked quietly.

  The pause seemed to stretch to the far edges of the vista that was slowly being revealed again as the mists of Avalon receded and the rain finally stopped. A dull, hazy sun struggled to cut through the higher cloud above and, standing on top of the hill, Charlie held his breath.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Holly replied. ‘But perhaps I’m willing to at least hope.’

  ‘For the moment, that’s good enough for me,’ Charlie murmured. He ached to kiss her, but he sensed that now was definitely not the right time to risk anything more intimate than he had already. It was a step, that they were talking again. The next one, he hoped tentatively, they’d take together.

  The ping of Holly’s mobile phone in her backpack broke the tension, and she bent down to get it from the front pocket where she’d safely stowed it. ‘Oh no,’ she whispered as she read the message.

  ‘What is it?’ Charlie was immediately alert. ‘Can I help?’

  Holly, visibly struggling, turned to him. ‘Rachel’s had a text from Mum, who was looking after Harry while she helped me with this session. She’s going to have to take Harry up to Bristol Royal Children’s Hospital again. That chest infection that knocked him out is still sitting on
his lungs. The GP’s just phoned and they’ve found staphylococcus aureus, a bacterial infection, in his swab sample. It’s likely he’s going to need to be in for at least a week this time.’ She shook her head. ‘This bloody condition!’ Putting her phone back quickly, she picked up her backpack. ‘Come with me,’ she said suddenly. ‘Come and see what it’s like to sit beside a child with CF during the bad spells.’ The challenge was in her eyes, and Charlie knew this was a test as well as an invitation back into her life.

  49

  Stopping briefly to get a change of clothes, Holly and Charlie sped up the A38 to Bristol at a pace just within the legal limits. Rachel had told them not to rush, that she was settling Harry in and there was nothing they could do except provide moral support, but Holly felt drawn to the hospital, with Charlie by her side, so that he could understand the true implications of what it was like to have a child with CF and an infection. But more than that, she wanted to be there for her sister and nephew, to help chase away the loneliness and isolation that walked hand in hand with cystic fibrosis.

  ‘We’ve been lucky so far,’ Holly explained as Charlie drove, his BMW being more reliable than Holly’s older Vauxhall Astra. ‘Harry’s had one stint in hospital, but the fresh air of Willowbury is great for him, and Rachel’s very vigilant. She’ll be blaming herself, unfairly, for this current hospital stay, but—’

  ‘Short of keeping Harry in a bubble, though, there’s nothing she can do,’ Charlie finished Holly’s obvious line of thought.

  ‘True,’ Holly replied, feeling, despite herself, comforted to have Charlie there by her side. ‘Of course, this new generation of drugs could change all that.’

  ‘I know,’ Charlie said quietly.

  They pulled into the nearest car park and headed swiftly down the hilly street towards the BRHC. It sat off to the side of the Bristol Royal Infirmary and was buzzing with activity, as always. Once through the doors, after a quick stop in the hospital’s gift shop, they headed up to the Paediatric Respiratory Ward and navigated their way to Harry and Rachel. After checking in with the desk, Holly turned to Charlie.

  ‘I’ll go and see how they are.’ She paused, looking up at him, searching his face, as if looking for an answer. ‘I think you need to see him, too, but they probably won’t let both of us in at once.’ Before she could think better of it, she leaned upwards and placed a light kiss on his mouth. She felt him stiffen in surprise, but then return the kiss, very tentatively.

  ‘Thanks for coming with me,’ she murmured.

  ‘I wanted to,’ Charlie replied. ‘Let me know when I can see them.’

  Holly, on slightly shaky legs, headed down the hallway to the room where Harry and Rachel were. Because of the high risk of cross-infection, CF patients could not be put together on a general ward, so needed to be kept separate from each other. Looking through the window in the door, she saw Rachel sitting in the high-backed chair beside Harry’s bed. The toddler was sitting up on the hospital bed, hooked up to an IV line that Holly presumed contained stronger antibiotics and wearing a nebuliser. Despite this, he looked chirpy, and she could see him smiling under the mask when she opened the door. For such a young child, he never failed to inspire her, handling everything that was thrown at him like it was normal when, in a lot of respects, his life was anything but.

  ‘Hey,’ she said gently. ‘How are you doing, titch?’

  Harry looked up and smiled. ‘OK, Aunty Holly,’ he said, his voice muffled by the mask.

  Holly leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead, and then passed him a fluffy rabbit she’d bought in the gift shop as they’d come in.

  ‘How’s he doing?’ Holly asked Rachel as she gave her sister a hug.

  ‘Not too badly,’ Rachel replied. Holly’s heart went out to her at how tired and anxious her sister looked. ‘Just a bit fed up, as I am, at being back here for the second time this year. But they’re great, as ever.’

  ‘I’ve got someone with me,’ Holly said. ‘Are you happy to see him?’

  Rachel’s eyebrows raised. ‘It depends. Were you happy to see him?’

  Holly smiled briefly. ‘To a point. He wants to lend us his full support.’

  ‘Haven’t we been here before?’ Rachel said wearily. She suddenly looked very, very tired. ‘What’s changed? The direction of the wind?’

  ‘I know he’s been indecisive, but there’s something different this time,’ as Holly said the words, she realised she believed them. ‘I think you should hear what he has to say.’

  Rachel smiled. ‘OK. But I don’t want this one disturbed or upset – he might look better, but he’s still fighting infection. Charlie can come and see him, but only for a minute.’

  ‘I’ll go and get him,’ Holly offered, relieved that Rachel would, at least, listen to what Charlie had to say.

  A couple of minutes later, Charlie poked his head around the door of the room.

  ‘Hey, Harry,’ Charlie said as he closed the door behind him, leaving Holly waiting in the corridor outside. ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘OK,’ Harry replied, beaming. The little boy liked having visitors, and he’d taken a shine to Charlie over the time he’d known him.

  ‘Hey,’ Rachel said. ‘Holly said you wanted to speak to me.’

  Charlie looked from Harry, who seemed incredibly little, propped up on the brilliant-white sheets of the hospital bed, to his mother, who, though calm, looked tired. This was the reality of a hospital stay with a CF patient, he realised; long hours waiting for medications to take effect, constant monitoring, and in between, trying to fill the time for a young child. No wonder Rachel was tired. He felt his throat constrict as he glanced back at Harry, who, aside from being a little bit pale, seemed in good spirits, possibly to do with the huge pile of sweets on the top of the cupboard next to him. Tearing his gaze back to Rachel, he took a deep breath.

  ‘I want to help properly this time,’ Charlie said, keeping his voice low, respectful of the fact that Harry, like all children, had ears on elastic. ‘I made a mistake by stepping away from your campaign. This time, I’ll do things right.’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘When Hugo Fitzgerald was the MP, I was frustrated because he wouldn’t speak up for us, but at least I knew where we stood. It became a fight from the grass roots, with people who truly understood what it was like to be in our situation.’ She paused, and Charlie swallowed hard. Her clarity and grace under pressure was inspiring; he wished he’d had half her composure when he’d been caught on the hop during that ill-fated interview. ‘When you stepped up and asked that question at PMQs, I actually dared to hope that finally we’d have some support for getting this new medication funded. For a little while, Holly, me and all of the other families affected hoped things would start to change. But then you stepped back, for whatever reason.’ Rachel held up a hand as Charlie opened his mouth to interrupt. ‘I don’t expect you to explain or justify yourself to me, Charlie. I’m sure you’ve been through all that with Holly, and she’s made you go through it until you’re blue in the face as it is. The fact is that it happened, and suddenly we were back on our own again.’

  ‘I’m sorry—’ Charlie said, but Rachel cut him off.

  ‘I know you are.’ She smiled gently. ‘But being sorry doesn’t make Harry get better any faster. We need action, and we need it now, Charlie.’ She reached over and squeezed Harry’s little hand, and he promptly stuck his tongue out under the mask. ‘If you truly do mean to help us, then make it count. Otherwise it’s all just hot air and wasted breath. And this little one, and all of the other patients out there, they don’t have the breath to waste.’

  ‘I will do everything I can,’ Charlie replied. ‘From here, I’m going straight home and Holly’s going to help me work on my opening speech for the Adjournment Debate I’m going to table.’

  ‘That’s a good start,’ Rachel said. ‘I know the big things move slowly in the political world, but time is important here, not just for Harry but for all of the CF patients.�
��

  ‘You’d be surprised how time seems to operate in Westminster,’ Charlie said, a wry note entering his low voice. ‘Sometimes it grinds so slowly, nothing ever seems to change, and then you blink and something’s been passed. Let’s hope the CF medication is one of those things.’

  Their attention was drawn quickly to the bed as Harry had a sudden fit of coughing. Rachel sat him up a little bit straighter and tapped him sharply on the back, starting a routine of physio that would help to keep the mucus from settling on his lungs. Charlie was struck, yet again, by the delicate balance Harry had to sustain in order to stay healthy and how easily this could be disrupted. He felt his resolve renewing to do something.

  ‘I promise you that by the time you two come home, I’ll have written my speech and be more than ready to give it,’ he said firmly. ‘And I’m going to speak to the Health and Social Care Committee, find out what’s holding up the decision. I will do everything I can, Rachel.’

  ‘I know,’ Rachel said, as Harry’s coughing subsided. ‘I trust you.’

  To a politician, that was a great endorsement, and to a man who had grown so attached to this family, it was an indication of much more. He leaned forward and kissed Rachel on the cheek. ‘I’m grateful for that.’

  As he walked out of the hospital room and rejoined Holly in the corridor, she glanced up from the book she’d been reading on her phone, obviously trying to distract herself from whatever conversation was being held between Charlie and Rachel.

  ‘OK?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Yes,’ Charlie replied. ‘Apart from the fact that I’ve now got to break the news to someone that they’re going to be spending their spare time this weekend helping me to compose a killer speech.’