The Good Father

by Maggie Kingsley

  ‘And both his intercom and phone have stopped working?’ Maddie said caustically as she gave Jonah the report he wanted and he left mouthing, ‘You’re a star.’

  ‘He has Simon and Rhona Scott with him, and he doesn’t want them to hear what he’s saying,’ Nell said, and Maddie frowned.

  ‘Diana’s parents? Why does he want me to go to his office if Diana’s parents are there?’

  ‘I’m guessing it’s something to do with Diana’s ventricular tapping,’ Nell said. ‘Rhona and Simon are really upset about it and maybe Gabriel’s hoping—as you were the one who spotted the intra-ventricular haemorrhage—that you might be able to persuade them it’s necessary.’

  It made sense—sort of—and Maddie reached for her notepad and pen. ‘Actually, while you’re here, Nell, I need a favour,’ she said as she stood up. ‘Could you look after Charlie and Susie for me tonight for a couple of hours?’

  ‘Don’t tell me Gabriel’s got you working overtime already?’ Nell groaned, as she led the way out of the office, and Maddie smiled.

  ‘No, it’s Jonah. He’s asked me out to dinner.’

  Nell stopped dead in the middle of the corridor. ‘Jonah’s asked you out on a date?’

  ‘Well, it’s not really a proper date,’ Maddie said hurriedly, feeling suddenly quite ridiculously embarrassed. ‘It’s more a sort of a thank you because I typed his report so quickly.’

  ‘I see.’

  Nell didn’t look happy. In fact, Nell’s enthusiasm was positively underwhelming and Maddie said, ‘Look, if babysitting Charlie and Susie tonight is a problem I’ll ask Jonah to make it another night.’

  ‘It’s not a problem.’

  It obviously was.

  ‘Nell, you were the one who said I should start going out again,’ Maddie pointed out defensively, ‘and I thought you liked Jonah?’

  ‘I do…I just…’ Nell coloured slightly. ‘I wouldn’t have thought he was your type.’

  ‘I don’t think I have a type.’ Maddie sighed. ‘Unless it’s for low-life scum who hurt me.’

  ‘Jonah won’t do that, but…’

  ‘Look, is there something about Jonah I should know?’ Maddie demanded. ‘Like he’s a serial dater, has a commitment phobia or a wife and twelve kids in Edinburgh?’

  ‘Of course he hasn’t,’ Nell said irritably. ‘He’s a lovely man, but he hasn’t had much luck with women, so…well, just don’t hurt him, OK?’

  Maddie stared at her cousin thoughtfully. ‘Have you ever thought that maybe you should be reconsidering your engagement to Brian?’

  ‘Whatever for?’ Nell said, genuinely bemused. ‘Jonah is a friend—a good friend—but I love Brian.’

  Are you sure about that? Maddie thought, but she didn’t say it. She never would.

  ‘Good luck with the Scotts,’ Nell continued, lowering her voice as they drew level with Gabriel’s consulting room. ‘Judging by the mood our boss is in, I reckon your biggest task will be preventing them from hitting him.’

  That was Maddie’s fear, too, but after just ten minutes of listening to Gabriel explaining to Diana’s parents that their daughter’s condition wasn’t stabilising, she decided that the likelihood of them hitting him was nil. The likelihood of them not understanding a word he was saying, however, was infinite.

  For heaven’s sake, simplify it, humanise it, she thought as he talked about tapping and butterfly syringes, blood pressure and internal catheters. You’re confusing them, and they’re frightened enough without you confusing them.

  ‘I’m a good listener,’ he’d said, but listening involved more than simply hearing what people were saying. Listening meant interpreting the unspoken. It meant watching people’s body language, being aware of the expressions in their eyes, so you heard not just what they said but also their unvoiced fears—and he wasn’t doing that.

  ‘This tapping thing you’re talking about,’ Simon Scott said eventually, white-faced and tense. ‘Does that mean you think Diana could develop hydrocephalus—water on the brain?’

  Don’t answer him directly, Maddie prayed. This couple have enough on their plate without you adding to it, so don’t answer him. To her relief Gabriel didn’t.

  ‘We’re hoping we’ll be able to drain the excess fluid much more frequently with a tap than we can with lumbar punctures,’ Gabriel said, but Simon refused to be sidetracked.

  ‘I was reading about hydrocephalus last night on the internet,’ he said, ‘and on the web site I found…it said babies with that condition often become brain damaged.’

  Maddie held her breath. Gabriel couldn’t lie—she knew he couldn’t—but she hoped desperately he would remember to temper the facts with some positive information. To her relief, he did.

  ‘There’s certainly a possibility of hydrocephalus,’ he said, ‘but if we can stabilise Diana, get her weight up to 1,800 grams, there’s a good chance her condition could resolve itself.’

  ‘But what if it doesn’t?’ Rhona said unhappily. ‘She has this heart problem—’

  ‘One thing at a time, Rhona,’ Gabriel interrupted. ‘And the medication we’re giving Diana for the blood vessel seems to be working, so let’s take one thing at a time.’

  ‘I just feel so useless,’ Rhona said with a sob. ‘I can’t even express enough milk to feed her.’

  ‘There’s absolutely no need for you to be concerned about that,’ Gabriel declared. ‘While breast milk is undoubtedly the best for newborns, powdered milk will give Diana all the nutrients and vitamins she requires.’

  That wasn’t what Rhona meant, Maddie knew as she watched the woman. OK, it was what she’d said, but all too often the mothers of preemies felt sidelined, marginalised, by the high-tech equipment and medical treatment, and they needed to feel needed, to feel they were contributing something to their baby’s care, irrespective of how small that contribution was.

  ‘Feeding your baby isn’t the only thing you can do, Rhona,’ Maddie said quickly. ‘If you’d been able to take Diana home right away, you would have talked to her and sung to her, so why don’t you talk and sing to her now? That way she’ll get to know your voice, know her mum’s there for her.’

  ‘What good will that do?’ Rhona murmured, and Maddie reached out and clasped her hand in hers.

  ‘Rhona, the nursing staff can give care and attention, but every baby—no matter how premature—needs its mother, and if you sit with Diana you’ll eventually know, even before the medical staff do, when she’s stressed and needs to rest, or when she’s ready to bond with you. Later on, when she’s bigger—’

  ‘What if there is no later on?’ Rhona said raggedly. ‘What if she dies?’

  Maddie glanced across at Gabriel to see him reaching for a piece of paper and a pen. He was clearly going to give the couple a list of statistics outlining the survival rates of premature babies, but that wasn’t what Rhona needed, not right now.

  ‘Rhona, I can’t promise you she won’t die,’ she said. ‘Nobody can, but your daughter’s a fighter. She’s already been through so much, and yet she’s still here, so hold on to that thought.’

  ‘This is all my fault, isn’t it?’ Rhona said, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks. ‘I know none of you has ever said it, but if I’d waited—not gone to the private clinic for IVF treatment—my other babies might not have died, and Diana…’

  Maddie bit her lip. Lord, but this was a tough one. All she could do was speak from her own heart and hope it helped.

  ‘Rhona, I don’t think there’s anybody alive who hasn’t thought, If only I’d done this, or if only I hadn’t done that. Hindsight’s a wonderful thing, but the truth, is none of us can ever know how things might have turned out if we’d done things differently.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘You can’t rewrite the past,’ Maddie continued. ‘We might sometimes want to, but all we can do is deal with the here and now, and Diana is receiving the best possible care. Mr Dalgleish is one of the finest neonatologists in Scotla
nd—’ he’s also the biggest pillock in the world, but we won’t go into that right now ‘—and if anybody can pull your daughter through this, he can.’

  Simon and Rhona glanced across at Gabriel, hope, fear and uncertainty in their eyes, and Maddie wondered how she would feel if it was her daughter whose life was hanging by a thread, or if it had been Charlie or Susie. It didn’t bear thinking about, but she’d meant what she’d said about Gabriel. He might have zero social skills, but when it came to medical expertise she’d never seen anyone better.

  ‘Thanks for sitting in with me,’ Gabriel said when the Scotts had gone.

  For a second she wondered if she should tell him he really needed to work on his people skills, but decided against it. Things were difficult enough between them as it was.

  ‘I’m sure you would have managed fine without me,’ she said bracingly, but to her surprise he shook his head.

  ‘How do you do that—get inside people’s heads to find out what they’re really thinking?’ he asked, clearly bemused. ‘Is it because you’re a woman, and statistically women are more empathetic, can read signals better than men?’

  ‘I think it’s more a question of putting yourself in somebody else’s shoes,’ she said. ‘Imagining how you might feel in their situation.’

  He frowned. ‘It can’t be that simple.’

  She shrugged. ‘I’ve always found it works for me.’

  He leant back in his seat and stared at her. ‘I was right, you know. You are wasted as a secretary.’

  She got to her feet. ‘This conversation was boring the first time we had it, and it’s not improving with repetition, so if you’ll excuse me—’

  ‘No, please, don’t go,’ he interrupted. ‘I want to talk to you about Charlie.’

  Her expression hardened, but she sat down again. ‘OK, I’m listening.’

  ‘Maddie, I’m so sorry for what I said to him. I ought to have known better—I should have known better—but I spoke without thinking.’

  ‘I’m sure that will make him feel heaps better,’ she said, and he bit his lip.

  ‘I was thinking of buying him something, like a book or a toy by way of an apology.’

  ‘I can see how that might ease your conscience, but I don’t see it doing much for Charlie, do you?’ she said, and he shook his head.

  ‘I guess not. Maddie, I’m sorry.’

  ‘You’ve already said that.’

  ‘And I’ll keep on saying it until you believe me,’ he said. ‘If I could take back what I said, I would. If I could wipe out my stupid, thoughtless words and the effect they’ve had on Charlie, I’d do that, too, but I can’t. All I can do is to somehow try to make amends.’

  ‘Yeah, well good luck with that one, Gabriel,’ she said, and he raked his fingers through his black hair, making himself look vulnerable and uncertain and all the things she didn’t want him to look.

  ‘What do you want me to do, Maddie?’ he demanded. ‘You want me to grovel at Charlie’s feet? I’ll do it. You want me to tell him I’m a jerk, an idiot? I’ll do that, too.’

  ‘Gabriel—’

  ‘What was it you told Rhona?’ he said, talking over her, his voice strained. ‘That everybody has thought at one time or another, If only I’d done this, or hadn’t done that? Well, that’s me, Maddie. I bitterly regret what I said but I can’t take it back. All I can do is to try somehow to lessen Charlie’s pain, and I can’t do it on my own—I don’t know how—so I’m asking you—I’m begging you—to help me, to show me what to do.’

  He meant it. She could see the misery and guilt in his dark grey eyes, and though part of her wanted to tell him to rot in hell for hurting Charlie, the other part whispered, You don’t kick somebody when they’re down, and this man is down.

  ‘I think what you said to Charlie was thoughtless and cruel,’ she began, then held up her hand quickly to silence him when he tried to interrupt, ‘but you’re right, you can’t undo it. If you want to buy him something by way of an apology, I’d suggest a game for his Game Boy, but I think what would help him most would be you telling him you were an idiot. Kids are great believers in fair play, and if you admit you screwed up it might help.’

  He nodded, stared down at his desk for a second, then up at her hesitantly. ‘What about you?’

  ‘Me?’ she said, confused.

  ‘Do you forgive me?’

  She didn’t. It was too soon for her to do that. The memory of Charlie’s stricken face was too raw, too vivid.

  ‘I’m working on it,’ she said, and he smiled. A gentle, rueful smile that coaxed a reluctant answering smile from her.

  A smile that slowly faded when his eyes continued to hold hers and she saw the guilt in them replaced by something altogether darker, hotter, more disturbing. Get out of here, Maddie, she told herself as she felt her pulse kick up and every nerve ending she possessed spring into life. This man could keep a psychoanalyst in work for years, so get out of here, fast.

  ‘I…I ought to get back to my work,’ she said, trying to jerk her eyes away from his—only to find she couldn’t.

  ‘Must you?’ he said, and she swallowed, hard.

  Oh, Lord, but it would be so easy to like this man. Hell, she was halfway there already, but this time it wouldn’t just be her who would get hurt if it all went wrong. It would be Charlie and Susie, too.

  ‘I have so much to do,’ she said. Stop looking at me like that. Please, don’t look at me like that.

  ‘Maddie—’

  ‘The departmental report,’ she continued desperately. ‘Admin wants our report, and—’

  ‘Maddie, I was wondering whether you might like—’

  She never did find out what Gabriel was wondering because the door of his consulting room suddenly opened and Jonah’s head appeared.

  ‘There you are,’ he said with clear relief, then frowned when he glanced from her to Gabriel. ‘Are you guys OK? You both look a little strange.’

  Being suddenly unable to breathe does that to you, Maddie thought, getting hurriedly to her feet. ‘I’ll leave the two of you to it.’

  ‘Actually, it was you I was looking for,’ Jonah interrupted. ‘I’ve booked a table at the Casio Antonio for seven o’clock so I’ll pick you up at a quarter to seven if that’s OK?’

  Couldn’t he have waited until they were alone to tell her that? Now Gabriel knew about her date and, though she knew she shouldn’t care, stupidly—irrationally—she discovered she did.

  ‘A quarter to seven’s fine,’ she muttered.

  ‘Terrific.’ Jonah beamed, and, when he’d shut the door again the silence in the consulting room was deafening.

  ‘I’d better go, too,’ Maddie said, and this time Gabriel didn’t try to stop her.

  This time he let her walk all the way to his consulting-room door before he cleared his throat and said, ‘So you’re going out with Jonah.’

  It wasn’t a question, and to Maddie’s acute annoyance she felt her cheeks redden.

  ‘It’s a sort of thank you for some work I did for him,’ she began, ‘and I haven’t been out for ages, and…’ She came to a halt. Why the hell was she justifying her acceptance of Jonah’s invitation? What she did, and who she went out with, was none of Gabriel’s business. ‘Yes, I’m going out with Jonah,’ she said, and he picked up a folder on his desk and flicked it open.

  ‘I hope you have a pleasant time.’

  There was an edge to his voice—an edge that grated—and her chin came up.

  ‘I fully intend to,’ she said, and walked out of his room without a backward glance.

  ‘You were right, Jonah—it is nice here,’ Maddie said as their attentive waiter took their order and she sank back into the plush red leather of their cosy booth to admire the vibrant landscapes that adorned the walls of the Casio Antonio.

  ‘Anywhere’s nice when the company’s perfect.’ Jonah smiled and she rolled her eyes at him.

  ‘Flatterer.’

  ‘I never flatter,’ he s
aid. ‘You’re pretty and smart—’

  ‘Enough—enough,’ she said. ‘Much more of this and you’ll have me believing you.’

  ‘Good.’ He grinned and she laughed.

  ‘You know, I can’t believe you and Gabriel have been friends for almost eighteen years,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you had anything in common.’

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ Jonah said. When their waiter returned with two steaming plates of spaghetti carbonara, Maddie folded her arms across her chest and said, ‘OK, surprise me.’

  ‘We both love our work, we both suffer from low self-esteem and we both have a burning need to prove ourselves.’

  ‘I can believe you both love neonatal medicine,’ Maddie said, ‘and maybe—though heaven knows why—you both need to prove yourselves, but you’ll never get me to believe either of you suffers from low self-esteem. Good grief, Gabriel is arrogance and rudeness personified. He crucifies his staff—’

  ‘But if you call him on it—tell him how hurtful he’s been—he’s always genuinely horrified, and will do his utmost to make amends,’ Jonah interrupted.

  That was true, Maddie thought, remembering how contrite he’d been about Charlie.

  ‘OK, if it isn’t arrogance that makes him so rude, what is it?’ she demanded, picking up her fork. ‘Did somebody steal his favourite dummy when he was a baby and he’s still making people pay?’

  ‘The only way you’ll ever understand Gabriel is by meeting his parents. Believe me, they are not nice people.’

  Maddie put her fork down again. ‘You mean, they abused him—beat him?’

  ‘You don’t have to hit a child to scar it for life, Maddie,’ Jonah said. ‘Have you heard of Letitia Underwood?’

  ‘The big-cheese cardiologist?’

  ‘She’s Gabriel’s mother, and his father is Charles Dalgleish, chairman and owner of Reay Technologies.’

  ‘An even bigger big cheese,’ Maddie said dryly. ‘In fact, a veritable Stilton.’

  ‘With not an ounce of love in either of them for anybody but themselves,’ Jonah observed, helping himself to a roll from the basket in the centre of the table. ‘Gabriel went through hell when he was young, trying to be what his parents wanted him to be. It was only when he started med school that he finally saw them for what they really were, and he still has problems, times when he forgets success isn’t the be-all and end-all in life.’