Stoney Beck

by Jean Houghton-Beatty

  Jenny wanted to hug him, guilty now at her doubts. How to tell him she prayed he’d be all right, but there was this shyness that kept them both apart.

  “I wish I could have given Sarah a kidney,” she said. “There isn’t anybody else except Uncle Tim, but his blood’s O-positive, same as mine.”

  Her father placed his hand on hers, his eyes incandescent. “Aren’t you forgetting someone? Someone even closer than your Uncle Tim. Her father for instance?”

  Jenny’s hand went to her mouth. “But you can’t do that. You, well, you’re a priest.”

  “Yes, and a priest with A-negative blood. That’s where I’ve been these last few days. Getting tested. I asked the doctors not to tell you. Didn’t want to put the cart before the horse. Even though our blood matches, there were other tests. They’ve checked heart, lungs, and almost every organ in my body. I’m having a psychological test this afternoon, and afterward there’ll be transfusions from me to Sarah. Don’t think they’re anticipating any snags. Otherwise they wouldn’t have given me the OK to tell you.”

  “Oh,” Jenny’s voice was soft, her gaze locked with his. “Oh, man. I never expected this. Never in a hundred years.”

  “I don’t know why not,” he said with a smile, sounding as if he did this sort of thing every other day. “What father wouldn’t do this for his own daughter.”

  Jenny ached to fling her arms round his neck and by the look on his face, he felt the same, but they both sat there, frozen. “I love that you said that,” she said. “It’s just that—She felt the goose bumps pop out on her skin, as she tried to push the apprehension to the back of her mind. What if something went wrong?

  Charles saw the fear in her eyes, the way she bit her lip. “There’s no need for you to be apprehensive. These operations are done every day. They’re practically routine. But just to make sure, I’ve been praying hard. I rang Father Doyle last night, he’s my replacement, and asked for prayers from the congregation. Sarah’s the one who’ll need them the most. If her body rejects the kidney, she’ll be right back where she is now.”

  Jenny looked down at the same two pigeons, still pecking around at their feet, interested only in a handout and insensible to the dramatic conversation between her and her father.

  “What did the doctors say about you being a priest with two grownup kids?”

  He shrugged. “Not much. Doctors seem to be a bit like priests themselves, unshockable. There’s nothing they haven’t seen or heard. I stressed Sarah still doesn’t know I’m her father and that I wanted her to hear it from either you or me. They agreed of course. Keeping her blood pressure down is critical.”

  Jenny still couldn’t reach out, still didn’t have the courage or whatever it took to give him that first embrace like an ordinary daughter would her father, or tell him how proud she was of him. Instead she pulled the sandwich out of the bag, tore it into bits, and threw it to the pigeons. “Perhaps I should be the one to tell her. What do you think?”

  “Oh, would you. It’ll sound better coming from you. Less of a shock.”

  She looked at her watch as she got to her feet. “Come on up to the waiting room in about twenty minutes.”

  ***

  Sarah clutched her Paddington Bear to her chest as she eyed the spot under the sheet where a hollow plastic tube had been stuck in her tummy. Mr. Sidney had laughed when she’d said it looked like a little hose right there next to her belly button. It was called a cannula, he said, and after a few weeks, when it had settled itself, it would make dialysis much easier.

  In this great big hospital she had a room all to herself, with a telly and everything. Still, she missed the ward at Craighead, with Lottie in the next bed. Not that Sarah felt much like talking. Mr. Sidney had promised she would feel better after dialysis, even spit on his hand and crossed his heart, then said hope to die. What a big fibber he was. She’d already had two treatments but they hadn’t helped one little bit. Then, just yesterday, he had said she was doing so well, she would be discharged soon. Easy for him to say. He didn’t have her legs. When she tried to move them to get comfy, they felt like five-pound bags of sugar. Her back ached and her head throbbed. She glanced at the bedside table to make sure the pan was there in case she had to be sick.

  When she had asked a nurse if they’d found her a kidney, the woman said they weren’t that easy to get. Sometimes it took years. Years! Sarah had half opened her mouth to tell the nurse she didn’t have years because hadn’t Biddy said mongoloids didn’t live as long as ordinary people. If there was no new kidney soon, Sarah might not live to see next Christmas. But she just smiled and told the nurse to have a nice day like Jenny often said.

  They didn’t have a kidney for her and now were sending her home. Mr. Sidney had said she was getting better just so they could get her out of the hospital without a big fuss. She had heard Ada talking with customers about this very thing. When you were very poorly and the doctors couldn’t make you better, they sent you home to die. Sarah closed her eyes. What home? Oh, she and Jenny were in Andy’s house, but it wasn’t her real home. Maybe Jenny wanted to go back to Charlotte and if she did, who could Sarah turn to then? And what about that Biddy? What if they never got her out of Glen Ellen? What did any of it matter anyway? God already knew all this and was probably making plans to call her up to heaven. Mummy and Daddy were bound to be missing her.

  With her arms round her Paddington Bear, she must have drifted off to sleep because when she opened her eyes, on the dresser opposite her bed were some pretty yellow chrysanthemums. They were the little kind, baby mums, mixed in with Baby’s breath and looked so pretty in a green plastic vase. She picked up the seven or eight envelopes somebody had placed on the night table, then let them slip through her fingers. She would read them later when she wasn’t so sleepy.

  She looked toward the door as it slowly opened. Someone tall and golden glided toward her along the shaft of sunlight coming through the open door. She rose off the pillows. “Are you an angel?” She whispered, squinting her eyes, looking for the wings.

  “Sarah, honey, it’s me.” Jenny’s American voice was shaky but it was Jenny all right. “Here, let me put your glasses on.”

  Sarah saw Jenny more clearly now, enough to see the tears. “You glowed all over. I thought you’d come for me.”

  Jenny blew her nose with one hand and pulled over a chair with the other. “It was probably the light from the hall shining on this yellow outfit.” After she’d settled herself in the chair, she leaned forward and took Sarah’s hand. “There won’t be any angels coming for you for a very long time.”

  “Were you frightened coming in? Did you whistle?”

  “Yeah. Did “Roll out the Barrel” twice, then got halfway through “You Are My Sunshine.” She plumped up Sarah’s pillows and pulled the chair closer to the bed. “How’s it going, pumpkin?”

  “OK. I can’t seem to stay awake. I keep nodding off.”

  “How about if I tell you a story? A very special story?”

  “Is it true?”

  “Yes, but it’s not finished. What it needs is a real good ending.”

  Sarah tried to give a big brave smile. “I’m extra special at doing good endings.”

  “OK but I don’t want you getting excited. Mr. Sidney said if you do, your blood pressure will shoot way up.”

  There was something about Jenny’s face. “I knew it. I just knew it,” Sarah said, her voice beginning to rise, as she pulled herself up on her elbows. “They’ve found me a kidney.”

  Jenny jumped up and closed the door. “Sarah, please, for cryin’ out loud. Are you trying to get me thrown out?” She flopped back in the chair. “Now I’ll count to ten real slow while you take deep breaths. Then I’ll tell you a story about us. You, me, and our family.”

  Sarah leaned back on her pillows and took big deep breaths while Jenny counted. “Perhaps if you tell it like a fairy story. You know, Once upon a time.”

  “If you like. Let’s see now.
Once upon a time, there was a young American girl who came to Stoney Beck. She was feeling kinda lonely and homesick until this real cute guy comes walking up.

  “You should say American princess,” Sarah said, already settling into the story. “And the boy is always handsome. He’s called a Prince Charming. Did they fall in love?”

  “They were crazy about each other, went everywhere together. One day they asked someone to take their picture, right outside the Hare and Hounds.”

  Sarah clutched Paddy to her chest. Something special was coming here. Jenny’s voice had gone all breathless, as if she’d just run up the stairs.

  “It was the same picture you showed to Father Woodleigh.”

  “You mean the one of him and Beverly?”

  Jenny nodded. “She was the American Princess and Father Woodleigh was her Prince Charming, except he wasn’t a priest yet. Beverly called him Charles. They were in love but poor Beverly couldn’t stay and when she went away, Charles was broken hearted. They never saw each other again. But Beverly never forgot Charles, her handsome Prince Charming, and he never forgot his beautiful American princess. Then one day—”

  After Jenny had gone, Sarah sat the bear on her propped-up knees. She knew he wasn’t real or anything but just had to tell someone. “Everything’ll be all right now, Paddy. I’ve got a brand new daddy who loves me. There aren’t many priest fathers. His kidney’s bound to be blessed, sort of like a gift from God. I’m a very lucky girl.”

  When Jenny reached the waiting room, her father stood with his back to her, hands in his pockets, staring out the window. She put a hand on his arm. “You can go see her now.”

  That night when they left the hospital, Charles told Jenny he was driving back to St. Mary’s and could he drop her off at her hotel. He pulled out his keys as they walked across the parking lot, rummaging through them, looking for the right one.

  “Sarah said because I’m a priest, my kidneys are bound to be holy.” He smiled as he rolled his eyes toward the heavens. “Her words, not mine.”

  “She’s really something else isn’t she,” Jenny said, as they stood beside his car. “Can you believe someone like her could be so brave. I only wish I had her nerve.”

  Charles stopped and put his hands on her shoulders, his gaze locking with hers. “Yes, Sarah is something else as you put it, but courage takes many forms, Jenny. You helped take care of the only father you’d ever known, then watched him die in one of the worst ways. When you lost your mother so soon afterwards, your heart must have been close to breaking. Yet look what you did. You boarded a plane and came thousands of miles to a strange place with nothing but a half-finished note.”

  “It was my therapist’s idea,” Jenny said. “Uncle Tim was worried and to tell you the truth, I was too. But not now. I’m glad I came.”

  “So am I,” Charles said. “So is Sarah. You’ve saved her life, you know.” He waved his arm as Jenny opened her mouth to protest. “Oh, I’m giving her the kidney, but without you none of this was possible. Can you see that? Can you see how proud I am of you?”

  And Jenny could see. His eyes shone and for the first time she saw a resemblance between him and herself. Her mouth was his mouth, the same full lips, the same square teeth. And there was that one dimple in the right cheek. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Without taking her gaze away from his face, she opened her bag and felt around for the book of sonnets. “You’ll remember this,” she said handing it to him. “Mom kept it hidden all those years and gave it to me right before—well, you know.”

  He stared at it as if it were a priceless volume, then ran a hand gently across the cover. “We read every poem in this book,” he whispered thickly as he slowly turned the pages. “And to think she kept it all those years.”

  “She never forgot you any more than you forgot her,” Jenny said.

  He put a hand on her wrist. “Everything’s going to be all right. You must believe that.” He looked up at the sky. “Don’t forget the Man upstairs. This is all part of His plan?”

  A few minutes later, they pulled up outside her hotel.

  “Goodnight, Father,” she said as they shyly gave each other that longed for hug. “You be careful driving home now. It’s a long way.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Since Sarah’s first dialysis, Jenny’s relationship with Mr. Sidney had improved. What impressed her most was his kindness toward her sister. Everybody loved a hero, the surgeon said, and it was well-nigh impossible not to wish Sarah well. He’d never known anyone try harder. And now, as Jenny reached the top of the hospital stairs, he was in the hall talking to a nurse. When he spotted Jenny, he motioned for her to stop, then excused himself from the nurse.

  “We tried to contact you but you’d already left,” he said. “We’ve brought the transplant forward to next Wednesday.” He stood with his back to the window, the sun filtering through his pale wispy hair. Jenny wondered why she hadn’t liked him before. He was strange looking all right but somehow, when you got to know him, it only added to his charm.

  “Your father’s a perfect match, an excellent donor. We’ve got Sarah stabilized, as good as she’ll ever be. This is why we need to get on with it. There’s an element of risk if we wait. Don’t want to take a chance on her regressing.” He gave a self-satisfied smile as he stuck his clipboard under his arm. “It took a bit of finagling to jump the queue for the operating theater but because a transplant is more cost-effective than dialysis, we finally got the go-ahead.”

  Jenny leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. “Does my father know? He didn’t tell me.”

  “We didn’t get in touch with him until just an hour ago. He probably tried to get you but you were probably already on your way.”

  Jenny called Walter’s sister who ran the bed and breakfast, and asked for a room starting tomorrow. Gertrude Tillman said she had a nice en suite for thirty pounds a night, her best room with a lovely view of the park behind her house. Jenny said she’d take it and gave the woman her credit card number. It was half the price of the hotel and just one block further away. Not only that, with this one you got breakfast. She then drove to Stoney Beck making her first stop the Hare and Hounds. Walter rubbed his hands in that special way when she told him she’d reserved a room at his sister’s place. Over a beer, she brought him up to date on the transplant. He said he’d put it on the notice board in the hall. The archeologists, especially, were always asking for the latest on Sarah.

  After she left the inn, she pulled into Andy’s garage. He put a finger under her chin and raised her face. “You look exhausted. If you don’t give yourself a day off, you’re not going to be any help to Sarah or your father.” He looked up at the sky. “It’s a nice day. How about putting your feet up for a few hours on the terrace. I’ll make you a sandwich and get you something to drink.”

  He fixed a pillow at her back while Pete trotted over and stretched out beside her. She stroked his back, then rested her hand on his head.

  When Andy came out with her snack, she was fast asleep. He stood holding the tray, looking down at her. Did she love him as much as he loved her. He had to admit his chances of her staying were looking better since Sarah and her father had come on the scene. He went inside and came back with a light blanket. “What are we going to do about her, Pete?” he whispered to his dog as he spread the blanket over her. “We can’t let her get away.”

  When Jenny woke up, Ada and Walter were on the terrace, holding hands and talking softly to each other like a couple of love birds. At the same moment, Dr. Thorne came out of the house with Andy.

  “Take a look at this,” Dr. Thorne said to Jenny as he handed her the Lakes Chronicle.

  “We’ve all seen it. Such a good human-interest story. It might even be picked up by the national papers. You’re famous, Jenny.”

  She stared at the front page.

  Father Charles Woodleigh, the priest at St. Mary’s in Daytonwater, who discovered only recently he is the father of twin g
irls, one American and one English, has offered to donate a kidney to his English daughter who is suffering from kidney failure. The operation will take place in Manchester Royal Infirmary.

  On page six was the gist of the story, American girl looking for her roots, discovers she has English twin with Down syndrome and a father who is now a priest. Father Woodleigh had no idea he was the father of twins from a romance he had twenty-three years ago until his American daughter came to mass at his church.

  Jenny had held her breath so long, it came out in a rush. There were pictures of the priest, one of Sarah outside Malone’s and another of Jenny on the bench outside the Hare and Hounds.

  “I don’t remember anybody taking this,” she said.

  “That’s the media for you,” Ada said, “but what are you worried about. You look like a million dollars.”

  Jenny laughed, looking at the picture again. “It isn’t bad, is it.”

  “I’ll scan it,” Andy said, “and e-mail it to your Uncle Tim. Then I’ll call Trudy’s B&B and ask her to book me in for the night of the transplant. After that we’ll see how it goes.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Sarah had her eyes on the ceiling as the trolley was wheeled through the double doors into the operating theater. She had the funniest feeling in her tummy, like little mice scurrying around in there. From the operating table, she looked around for her brand new father. She’d expected him to be right next to her, so they could lift the kidney out of him and put it into her. But he was nowhere to be seen. Mr. Sidney was there, came over, and smiled down at her.

  When she told him about the mice, he gave her shoulder a nice comfy squeeze. “You’re my little trooper, Sarah. When you wake up, those little devils will have packed their bags and scooted away.” After he patted her hand, he turned to talk to one of the nurses. The room was just like he said it would be. Everybody had shower caps on their heads and masks hanging round their necks. They would put these over their mouths when the operation started so they wouldn’t be breathing all their germs on the good kidney. A nice chubby nurse smiled at Sarah as she fiddled with the bag of clear fluid already dripping into her arm. A doctor leaned over her. It was Dr. Stardust, the man who had come into her room last night and told her he’d be here today to sprinkle stardust in her eyes and send her to dreamland.