They spoke for a few more minutes then Sawyer replaced the receiver. “Wow.” He leaned against the wall.
His head was spinning. His eyes swept across the room. Everyone was going about their business quietly and efficiently. What effect would this news have on the people here?
In a way it was a relief to finally have a diagnosis but with no known treatment it still made things difficult. He racked his brain, trying to remember what he could about monkeypox. It wasn’t much.
He only hoped there was a plan.
Had he just thought that? Him, Sawyer, wondering if there was a plan?
Callie was obviously rubbing off on him.
Callie—where was she?
He started walking along the corridor, stopping people on the way past. “Have you seen Callie? Do you know where Callie is?” Time after time his colleagues just shook their heads.
Finally, one of the contact tracers furrowed his brow. “I saw her go down there a little while ago.” He pointed down one of the long corridors.
Sawyer strode along. He couldn’t remember this part of the building on the plan. It was well away from the small labs and isolation ward. He reached a double door at the end of the corridor and pushed it open.
It took his breath away.
The tiny little room was extraordinary. A small stained-glass window was set into the facing wall, with the sun streaming through causing a kaleidoscope of colors across the white walls. It was like a magical light show.
Callie hadn’t even heard him enter. She was sitting on one of the wooden pews near the altar at the front. There was no particular religion celebrated here. It was one of those non-denominational rooms that could be used by anyone.
A quiet place. For contemplation.
He walked along the carpeted aisle and sat down next to her. She jerked, conscious of no longer being alone, and opened her eyes. He slid along a little. She was sitting directly in the stream of coloured light. Her face and skin were lit up like a rainbow. It was dazzling. He’d never wanted to reach out and touch anyone more than he did right now.
Papers were scattered all around the floor at her feet.
“What do you want, Sawyer?” She sounded weary, exhausted. The relief that had instantly flooded him when he’d heard the diagnosis disappeared. All of a sudden he could hear the countdown in his head. Now they had a definitive diagnosis, it was another step closer to getting out of there.
It was a step closer to getting away from the dreaded DPA. It was also a step closer to getting away from Callie.
And he wasn’t prepared for the way that made him feel.
“Sawyer?”
He was still looking at her pale skin bathed in myriad colors. It was taking his breath away. As were the feelings sweeping over him.
He took a breath. “We have a diagnosis. It’s monkeypox.”
“Monkeypox?” Her voice rose automatically then she looked around her, as if conscious she shouldn’t shout in a place of worship. She fell to her knees on the paper-strewn floor where papers had been tossed in all directions.
He joined her. “Do you think there’s something about monkeypox in here?”
She nodded. “There is. It isn’t much, just some basic information and guidelines.” Her head shot back up, “Who did you speak to?”
“Frank. And before you ask, he was positive. He said you could call him back. He’ll stay at the lab until he gets a chance to speak to you.”
“Here it is!” She pulled a few crumpled pieces of paper from the floor. Her eyes started racing across the text. She was mumbling under her breath, “Same transmission precautions, slightly shorter incubation period.” Her eyes lit up. “I’m not entirely sure—I’ll need to check—but I think this is good news for Alison. It seems to be a larger droplet infection. There’s a good chance she won’t have been infected.”
He nodded. “Actually, it still has a seventeen-day incubation period. She’ll need to wait a little longer before she can go home.”
Callie nodded but the smile reached all the way up to her eyes. “It’s something. I was dreading a smallpox diagnosis.”
“Me too.” He looked around him. “How did you find this place?”
She let out a little laugh. “Curiosity got the better of me. It wasn’t marked on the plans and I wanted to find out what was down here.” She put her hands out. “Once I’d found this place I wanted to keep this little piece of paradise to myself.”
“I don’t blame you.” His eyes met hers. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want a confrontation. Both of them knew they needed to talk. But this just wasn’t the right time or place.
She looked down at the mess she’d made on the floor. A bright red folder had been pushed under one of the pews. “I came here to escape. To get out of the rat race.” She edged the folder with her foot. “I had a bit of a disagreement with the plan. It sort of ended up all over the place.”
He folded his arms and gave her a lopsided grin. “Shock, horror. Callie Turner threw the plan away?”
“I guess I did.” She was biting her lip as she stared at the scattered papers. Didn’t she know how much that distracted him?
He rested back against the wooden pew. Not exactly designed for comfort. Any minute now Callie would be off, her brain kicking into gear and taking off at full speed. He could picture her talking nineteen to the dozen and shouting instructions to everyone.
That’s why he kind of liked this place.
“How long have you had this hidden gem?”
She arched her eyebrow at him and had the good grace to look embarrassed. “A few days. Right after we bumped into each other in the kids’ cinema room. I needed somewhere I could have a little space.”
“From me?” He didn’t want her to say yes. He really didn’t want her to say yes. But somehow it was more important that she was honest with him than that his feelings were hurt.
She sighed. “From you, from me, from everything.” She threw up her hands but her voice was remarkably steady. “I had to sort a few things out in my head.” She gave him a sad sort of smile. “I spoke to Callum. He wanted to call you—to interfere—but I wouldn’t let him.”
It was probably the first time in his life that he didn’t automatically jump to his own defense. He didn’t need to. He knew exactly what she would have said to Callum and exactly what he would have said in response.
“So, is he going to kick my ass?”
She let out a little snigger.
“Just as well I changed my number, then.” He turned to face her. “Seriously, is he well enough to call?”
She nodded.
“Do you mind if I call him and tell him about the monkeypox? It might be the only thing that distracts him from tearing me off a strip or two.”
“I think that would be fine.” She stood up, her feet brushing against her paperwork. She looked a little lost. “I’ll come back for this later. I still haven’t really figured out if this is the place for me. I need to do a little more thinking.”
“The place for you?” He looked around him in confusion. “A chapel?”
She shook her head slowly and took a deep breath. “No. The DPA.”
There it was, he thought. The thing that was bothering her most. Him kissing her had only been a distraction.
And it was obviously the first time she’d said it out loud.
The underlying issue was still there. She was uncomfortable. She wasn’t truly happy in her work—he knew it and she knew it. He’d known it right from the beginning. So he wasn’t the main cause of her problems, only an antagonist.
“You’re doing a good job, Callie.” It seemed important to tell her. It seemed important to rally her confidence.
“You think so?” She’d reached the door now and turned back to face
him.
He nodded. “I do. And don’t think about things too long, Callie. Take it from someone who knows. Sometimes while you’re doing all that thinking, life passes you by.”
She pulled her shoulders back as if she was a little startled by his words. Her hand wavered on the doorhandle and then she came back and sat down beside him again.
It didn’t matter that she had other things to do. Other news to spread. Other plans to follow. Sometimes you just had to act on instinct. To take the moment before it passed.
“Is that what happened to you, Sawyer? Life has just passed you by?”
He froze, lowering his eyes and taking a few breaths. Her hand crept over and held his, interlocking their fingers.
He nodded, still looking at the floor. “I’ve lost six years,” he whispered “being angry at everyone and everything.”
His gaze rose again and fixed on the wall in front of him, staring at the beautiful light streaming through the stained-glass window. She squeezed his hand. Sometimes it was better to say nothing. Sometimes it was better just to give someone the time to say what they needed. Sometimes the best gift to give to someone was just to listen.
It struck her like gold. This was part of what she wanted to do. Not just for Sawyer but for her patients too.
“I was angry with Evan for sending her into the field. I was angry with myself for not knowing my wife was pregnant. I was angry with Helen for not realizing she was pregnant.”
He turned to face her. His eyes were wet with tears and he wrinkled his brow. “I was angry that the plan didn’t have any contingencies for things like this—a member of staff needing surgical intervention in the middle of nowhere.”
He took a deep breath. “But most of all I was angry at myself for not being able to save her. I was her husband. I should have been able to save her...”
She let his voice tail off. She wanted to put her arms around him. She wanted to hug him as tightly as she could.
But there was a balance here that could so easily be tipped. He’d shared something with her that she doubted he’d shared before. What did that mean?
It seemed almost like a step towards her. But she couldn’t be sure. And was she ready to take a step like that while she still had demons of her own?
Something twisted inside her. Could she talk about Isabel? Was she ready to share? She was still faltering. She still had to step out of Isabel’s shadow before she could do anything else. Too much was happening all at once, so where did Sawyer fit into this equation?
She rubbed her hand over the top of his. Words seemed so futile now but she had to say something so she kept it simple. “Thank you for sharing, Sawyer. I know it was hard. And I’m glad you did.” Her words were whispered and he gave her a little smile.
“I think it’s time you went outside and faced the masses. Better share the good news and tell them what they need to know.”
She nodded and slowly stood up. He needed some time. He needed some space. She could appreciate that.
And if she really cared about him, she had to give it.
“Come out when you’re ready.” She gave him a little nod and walked out.
Sawyer leaned back against the pew. In a matter of minutes it would be chaos out there again. Everyone would have questions and be looking for answers. The people currently quarantined would need up-to-date information. They would need to know what would happen next. Everything would have to be reassessed, re-evaluated, reconfigured.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Sawyer felt the air in the room become still. He didn’t feel any urge to hurry after her. It would all still be out there in a few minutes—or a few hours. It was truly peaceful in here. No outside noises and far enough away from the clinical areas and staff to shield it from any external influences. Not even the noise of the birds tweeting outside.
He sat there for the longest time watching the colorful reflections from the stained-glass window dance on the wall to his right.
He looked at the scattered pieces of the plan around his feet.
Plans. He’d spent so long hating plans and everything about them. Blaming them and the DPA for the part they’d played in Helen’s death.
It didn’t matter that he was supposedly an intelligent, rational man. Nothing about his wife’s death had seemed rational to him.
It had all seemed so random.
The DPA planned for every eventuality—or so he’d thought. But it hadn’t planned for that. It hadn’t planned for his wife to collapse with an ectopic pregnancy in the middle of nowhere and too far away for any emergency treatment.
And it had made him mad.
It had made him behave in a way that would have embarrassed Helen. He had questioned everything. He had torn up plans and set them on fire. He’d refused to follow any of the protocols that the DPA had set. And then he’d walked away from it all.
He’d walked away because he hadn’t wanted to deal with anything.
He couldn’t possibly believe that they’d just been unlucky. That Helen’s death had simply come down to dumb, rotten luck.
He’d tried to forget everything and push everyone away.
But now it was time to stop all that. It was time to open his eyes.
It was time to remember—both the good and the bad.
And he remembered. He remembered everything about his wife that he’d loved.
And for the first time in a long time he took joy in remembering.
The dark shade of her hair, the chocolate color of her eyes. The fact that every item in her wardrobe had been a variation of a shade of blue. Her collection of bells that had sat on the window ledge in their bedroom. The smell of her favorite perfume, which she’d worn every single day. The candles she’d lit around her bath at night. The grey and blue felt hat she’d worn in winter that he’d always said made her look one hundred and five.
All the things that he’d been terrified to forget. Once—just once—he’d forgotten who her favorite author had been. It had sent an irrational, horrible fear through his entire body. How could he forget something about his darling Helen? Those books were still sitting on her bedside cabinet.
So he’d made lists and chanted things over and over in his bed at night. He hadn’t been able to stand the thought of her fading from his memory. That the love that he’d felt for her would ever die.
He remembered their first date at the movies, their first kiss, their first fight and their first home. Their wedding day. Their wedding night.
And the way he’d held her on that last, horrible day when they’d both known she was going to die.
That nothing could save her. Even though he kept telling her she’d be fine.
The way she’d felt in his arms as he’d felt the life slowly drain from her body.
The way she’d told him she’d love him forever. And to live a good life.
Here, in this special place, it felt right. It felt right to remember her. It felt like a celebration.
Of life.
Of love.
Of forgiveness.
A single tear rolled down his cheek. He’d cried an ocean’s worth of tears but now it was time for the last one.
Now it was time to let go.
Now it was time to live his life.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE ALARM STARTED sounding sharply. Sawyer and Dan were on their feet almost simultaneously. Even though the ventilator was breathing for Jack, his blood results had shown that his organs were starting to fail.
“Cardiac arrest. He’s in V-fib.”
Sawyer was almost through the door before one of the nurses blocked his path. “Gown!” she shouted.
Dan hadn’t been so forgetful and already had a gown half on and his mask in place. Sawyer hated this. What was the point? How
effective were the masks really? How much protection did the gown really offer? Wouldn’t it make more sense just to get in and defibrillate him?
He hauled the gown and mask on and entered the room just as Dan placed the paddles on the boy’s chest. “Clear!”
Jack’s little body arched and all eyes fixed on the monitor.
Still VF.
Callie ran into the room, her gown barely covering her shoulders. “No!” she gasped, and ran to the other side of the room.
It was then Sawyer heard the high-pitched squeal. The squeal of a little boy watching people attempt to resuscitate his brother and not having a clue what was going on. He cursed and pulled the curtain between the beds. Why hadn’t he realized? Why hadn’t he even thought of that?
But Callie had. She had her arm around Ben’s shoulders and was whispering to him through her mask. Her face was mainly hidden but he could still see her eyes. And there were tears in them.
Dan was moving quickly, seamlessly, shouting instructions to the surrounding staff. Jack’s mother and father appeared at the window, horrified at what was happening to their son.
Jill Keating promptly dissolved into a fit of tears, her legs giving way beneath her.
They started CPR, a nurse with a knee on the bed using one hand on Jack’s small chest. Regular, rhythmic beats. It was painful to watch.
The ventilator had been unhooked. Another doctor was bagging Jack down the tube already in place.
Drugs were pushed through Jack’s IV. Anything to try and restart his heart.
“Everyone stop a second!” Dan shouted.
Callie’s head shot up, a look of horror on her face. She moved from Ben’s bed over to where Sawyer was standing. “You can’t stop!” she shouted. “Don’t you dare stop!”
* * *
A hand tapped Violet on the shoulder. “You’ve to go the boardroom.”
Her head shot up. “What for? I’m in the middle of something right now. Can’t it wait?”
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