CHAPTER NINE
FREYA’S assurance faltered at the hospital’s admissions desk. Gus expected her to abandon him here, but how could she?
‘I don’t need your help to fill in a form,’ he told her gently. ‘You hurry on to see Nick. He needs you now.’
‘But I’ll try to get back to you before you go to Theatre.’
‘Stay with Nick, Freya. I’ll be fine.’
She’d never felt so torn. She was desperate to see Nick, but it was so hard to leave Gus. Above his lopsided smile, his dark eyes seemed to smoulder and glow, as if his emotions were as riotous as hers.
‘If I don’t make it back before you go down to the theatre…’ Freya hesitated, fighting tears while her heart played leapfrog with her stomach. She wanted to tell Gus she loved him but the admissions nurse was watching them and, besides, Gus might not want to hear her confession. Mightn’t he be shocked that she’d jumped to conclusions about their relationship after just one night together?
‘All the best,’ she offered instead. ‘Good luck, Gus. Break a leg.’
With a soft sound that might have been a groan, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her.
‘Thanks,’ she whispered into his shirt. ‘Another hug just might get me through this.’
‘Me, too.’
Releasing her, he gave her a wink and dropped a warm, comforting kiss on her cheek. ‘Off you go. Give my love to Nick. And don’t forget to grab a coffee. You’re not expected to fast just because we have to.’
No way could Freya drink coffee—her stomach was churning. As she hurried away, the happiness and confidence that had buoyed her since she’d woken crumbled hopelessly and her fear returned.
Doubts rushed back. Today was going to be such a huge emotional strain. How could she stay strong for hours and hours? What if anything went wrong? Could she bear it?
She wanted to be brave—she had to be brave—but what could be scarier than having the two people she loved most in the entire world undergoing major surgery?
Outside Nick’s room, she stopped and took a deep breath. Nick was so quick to pick up on her mood. Her reaction became his reaction, so she couldn’t let him see any sign of her fear. Squeezing her face muscles, she fixed her smile into place.
To her relief, the smile held as she breezed through the doorway.
‘Hey, Mum.’ Nick was beaming. ‘Look who’s here.’
Freya’s smile slipped when she saw the dignified silver-haired couple standing by her son’s bed. The man was in a grey suit, the woman a picture of elegant conservatism in navy linen and pearls. It had been years—but she recognised them instantly. Gus’s parents.
Freya’s hand leapt to press against her rioting heartbeats. Of course, she’d known that at some stage she would have to face up to Bill and Deirdre Wilder, but she hadn’t expected to see them this morning.
‘My grandmother and my grandfather have come to see me,’ Nick announced proudly. ‘They’re Gus’s parents and they’ve flown all the way from Western Australia.’
Freya managed a shaky smile and extended her hand. ‘Mr and Mrs Wilder, how lovely to see you again.’
Gus’s parents nodded. His mother’s eyes, which were the same dark brown as Gus’s, regarded Freya sternly.
At least they returned her handshakes.
Gus’s father nodded solemnly. ‘How do you do, Freya?’
‘Hello, Freya.’ His mother spoke cautiously and without smiling.
‘It’s wonderful that you could get here so quickly.’ Freya spoke in her warmest tones. ‘You must have flown all night.’
Deirdre Wilder’s mouth tilted awkwardly as she smoothed a non-existent crease in her navy linen jacket. ‘Actually, we arrived last night. We tried to ring Angus at his hotel, but we couldn’t seem to raise him.’
Freya couldn’t miss the mild accusation in her tone.
‘Is Gus all right?’ This question was fired by Gus’s father.
‘Oh, yes.’ Freya gulped. ‘He’s being admitted right now, as we speak.’
Freya hoped she didn’t look guilty. No doubt the Wilders already viewed her as the scarlet woman who’d seduced their son and stolen their grandchild. She knew it was silly, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling that they’d also guessed that their son had spent last night in her bed.
In the awkward pause that followed, Freya said, ‘You have no idea how grateful I am—how grateful both Nick and I are. If it wasn’t for Gus…’ She had to stop as tears threatened. She was very aware that this situation was as hugely emotional for Gus’s parents as it was for her.
Taking a deep breath, she slipped an arm around Nick’s shoulders. ‘Now Nick gets to meet his grandparents.’
As much to reassure herself as anyone, she bent to kiss Nick’s cheek and she couldn’t resist stroking his hair. ‘So how are you feeling, champ?’
‘Hungry. The nurses won’t let me have any breakfast.’
Freya smiled. ‘Gus can’t eat anything either.’
Deirdre Wilder said in a choked voice, ‘Nick looks so much like Angus.’
‘Poppy always says my eyes are like Mum’s.’ Nick was lapping up being the focus of everyone’s attention, and Freya found that she was grateful for any distraction from the impending operation.
‘Well, yes…your eyes are quite light.’ Deirdre Wilder smiled at Nick with surprising gentleness, although a chill crept into her features as she turned to Freya. ‘Is your mother here, Freya?’
Deirdre managed to look down her nose as she said this, as if she’d clearly expected Poppy Jones to renege on her grandmotherly duties.
‘Poppy’s on her way,’ Freya said. ‘She’s coming down on the train this morning.’ She gave Nick another reassuring smile. ‘Poppy will be waiting to see you when you wake up.’
Truth be told, Freya had been surprised when Poppy hadn’t insisted on coming to Brisbane at the same time that she and Gus had driven down with Nick. But her mother had been adamant that Nick, Freya and Gus needed time alone together.
‘To bond,’ Poppy had said with mysterious significance. ‘I’ll mind Urchin till then. Then Nick’s friend Jamie will have him, and I’ll jump on the train first thing on the day of the operation. I’ll be ready for Nick when he needs me most.’
Freya wondered how much ‘bonding’ her mother had anticipated. She suspected that Poppy was feeling a tad guilty about her insistence all those years ago that her daughter didn’t need a man in her life, that they could raise Nick just fine on their own.
Whatever her mother’s reasons had been, Freya was beyond grateful for that time with Gus. Heavens, how could she have dreamed they would become so close, so quickly? But it would be impossible to explain any of this to Deirdre Wilder.
Sudden footsteps outside announced the arrival of a nurse.
‘Good morning, Nick.’ She breezed into the room with a bright nursey smile. ‘I’ve come to wash you with special soap and to dress you in this gown.’ Grinning, she held up a green cotton hospital gown. ‘What do you think of the latest fashion?’
Nick eyed it dubiously. ‘Will my dad have to wear one of those, too?’
‘He’s probably getting into his right about now,’ the nurse said. ‘And without any argument.’
Deirdre Wilder stiffened and turned to her husband. ‘We’d better hurry if we want to see Angus.’
There was a flurry of kisses and calls from the door of ‘good luck, darling’, and then Gus’s parents were gone.
As the nurse began to unbutton Nick’s pyjamas, he sent Freya a satisfied grin. ‘Now I’ve got a father and four grandparents. How cool is that? I’m like Jamie Galloway now.’
Seeing the shining excitement in her son’s eyes, Freya felt her throat tighten painfully. She wanted to tell Nick that he mustn’t expect that his family would suddenly be like Jamie Galloway’s.
Jamie, Nick’s best friend, had both sets of his grandparents living right in the Sugar Bay hinterland. Both families had cane farms and the
y hosted huge get-togethers at Christmas and on birthdays. Their homesteads regularly overflowed with aunts and uncles and cousins, and Nick viewed these family gatherings as his version of heaven.
It was impossible to imagine that the Joneses and the Wilders would ever get together for something like that. But, as the nurse began to wash Nick, the boy grinned at Freya.
‘Actually, I’m even luckier than Jamie. His dad hasn’t given him a kidney.’
Oh, help. Freya almost sobbed aloud. Instead, she focused on giving him another brave smile.
Almost as soon as Nick was bathed and dressed, a friendly young anaesthetist arrived to insert an IV line into his arm.
‘This is where the medicine goes while you’re having the operation,’ the doctor told him.
Nick paled as he eyed the tubes and syringe. ‘Is my dad having these in him, too?’
‘I’ve just finished fitting his.’
That was enough to satisfy Nick and he submitted without a grimace. Freya wished she could rush back to Gus to tell him how wonderfully reassured Nick was, just knowing that his dad was sharing his ordeal.
But she wouldn’t leave Nick now. Besides, the thought of Gus’s parents watching her interaction with their son made her distinctly nervous.
To Gus’s shame, his spirits took a dive when the footsteps in the corridor materialised into his parents. He hadn’t expected to see Freya again, but a guy could always hope. How had his folks got here so soon?
‘Angus,’ his mother sobbed, rushing to hug him. ‘You poor darling.’
‘Whoops. Watch the IV tube, Mum.’
Gus submitted to her hugs and to his father’s handshakes and backslaps.
‘Are you OK, son?’
‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks. I’ve had so many health checks lately.’ He managed to crack a grin. ‘Seems I’m close to perfect.’
His mother chatted nervously while she stroked his hair as if he were ten years old—although Gus couldn’t actually remember her being so demonstrative when he was a kid and had longed for signs of affection.
‘We had to see you before you went down to Theatre,’ she said. ‘But we’ve met Nick, and he’s a lovely boy, isn’t he? He’s so much like you.’
‘How’s he doing?’ Gus asked, hoping his mother hadn’t upset the boy. ‘Is he OK?’
‘Oh, yes. He’s being very brave. And we saw Freya, of course. She looks—’
‘Is she OK, too?’ Gus interjected. Despite his concern for Nick, it was Freya who filled his head. Poor girl, she must be so stressed right now.
His mother’s mouth pursed, sour lemon tight. ‘Freya looks well.’ She managed to make Freya’s glowing health sound like a character fault.
Gus’s father cleared his throat. ‘You’re doing the right thing, son. Your mother and I want you to know we’re proud of you.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’ Gus’s gratitude was genuine. ‘Thanks for coming.’
He’d half-expected to be hammered by questions—about why Freya hadn’t told him about their grandson, and would they have ever known about Nick if he hadn’t needed a transplant?
He could just hear his mother’s questions. What’s happening about access? Freya can’t keep you out of Nick’s life any more, Gus.
No doubt the questions would come later.
Something to look forward to, Gus thought, mentally wincing.
‘Now, don’t worry about a thing,’ Deirdre said. ‘We’ll be here to look after you once you’re through with this.’
‘There’s no need. I’ll be—’
‘Of course there’s every need, darling. We’ve come all this way, just to care for you. You’ve been looking after other people for far too long. It’s time you had some pampering.’
That might be so, but the only pampering that interested Gus was the kind that involved Freya. He wasn’t going to argue about it now though, and he was rather relieved when two male nurses arrived.
‘Time to take you down to Theatre,’ they announced cheerily.
At last. Gus was keen to get on with it. In vain, he tried to reassure his mother, who’d begun to cry. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.’
Tears streamed down her face as she waved him goodbye.
‘Keep an eye on Freya,’ he called.
His mother cried harder than ever.
It was the longest day of Freya’s life.
While Gus’s surgery commenced, she waited with Nick in his room. He played with his Game Boy and she tried to read a magazine, but she couldn’t concentrate on photos of celebrities pushing babies in prams or holidaying in the South of France. And, although Nick madly pressed the buttons on his tiny screen, his face expressed none of his usual enjoyment in high-speed battles with aliens.
One good thing—the doctors in the operating theatre sent word back that Gus’s procedure was going according to plan, and that was a wonderful relief. Then it was Nick’s turn to go down to Theatre.
Freya’s stomach flip-flopped. This was the moment she’d dreaded but, for Nick’s sake, she had to hold up a brave front. She thought of Gus, already down at Theatre, giving up his kidney, and she clung to the doctors’ assurance that everything was going well. Nick was simply going down there to receive Gus’s gift. That was all.
When this was over, Nick would be healthy again and, with luck, he would go on living healthily for a very, very long time.
But, as he was lifted onto a trolley, he looked impossibly young and small and vulnerable. She remembered the day he was born and how she’d fallen instantly in love with his tiny pink perfection.
Tears prickled her eyelids. She ignored them. ‘Off you go, then,’ she said, lightly kissing him goodbye as if he was heading off to school or to a football game. ‘Poppy will be here when you wake up.’
Nick tried to smile but his face was pale and worried as he disappeared around a corner.
Freya was left alone.
Too anxious to sit still, she paced the corridors. She passed a water fountain and realised she hadn’t had anything to drink all morning. Sipping iced water from a paper cup, she told herself again that everything would be fine. Nick and Gus were in good hands. Even so, her insides were hollow with dread.
She should probably eat something, or at least get a coffee from a vending machine, but the very thought of ingesting anything stronger than water made her ill. She tried to ring Poppy, who would be midway through her train journey to Brisbane by now. The sound of her mother’s warm, smoky voice would be such a comfort, but she couldn’t get through. Poppy hated modern technology and hardly ever turned on her mobile phone.
Leaving a message, Freya continued her pacing. She was desperate to stay positive so she pictured Nick in the future, living with Gus’s kidney, happy and well. No rejections, please, please…
She imagined Nick graduating from university, getting a plum job and getting married, becoming a father. She so wanted her boy’s life to be perfect in every way. She would have to be careful not to interfere. She would let Nick make his own decisions, his own choices. She only hoped he’d make wiser choices than she had.
When it came to thinking about Gus, however, Freya couldn’t picture his future, or perhaps she was afraid to. Her mind seemed to freeze whenever she tried. Could she dare to hope or was that totally foolish?
She wished she’d talked to Gus about the future last night when she’d had the chance. But he’d offered her nothing more than one night, and that night had been so fabulous, she hadn’t wanted to spoil the magic.
Of course, she couldn’t help reliving all the lovely memories. Gus’s special mix of tenderness and passion couldn’t be faked, surely? Her heart did a tumble turn every time she thought about it, especially when she thought about his surprising confession about his marriage. Poor man. Guilt, even when it wasn’t really warranted, was a heavy burden to carry.
She tried to hold the memories close, like a protective fire blanket around her vulnerable heart, but already the night was beginning to feel like a
dream. Had it been too good to be true?
All she actually knew about Gus’s plans was that he was going back to the Northern Territory as soon as he was well enough, and his project would take months to complete. There was nothing in that scenario that encouraged rosy dreams.
Reluctantly, she turned her thoughts to Deirdre and Bill Wilder, who were no doubt sitting quietly and sensibly in the waiting room, as they’d been told to, as any news from the theatre would be relayed there.
So what am I doing, trying to avoid them and blundering around in corridors?
Dismayed by her foolishness, Freya hurried back down the maze of corridors. Twice she got lost, but eventually she arrived at the waiting room, shaking and rather breathless.
There was no sign of Gus’s parents.
CHAPTER TEN
THE family group sitting in the corner of the waiting room turned in unison when Freya came in.
‘I’m sorry to trouble you,’ she said. ‘I…I don’t suppose you saw an older couple waiting in here?’
‘Their son was having surgery, but he’s out now,’ a woman told her. ‘They’ve gone back with him to his room.’
‘Oh.’ Adrenaline made Freya’s heart pound. ‘Thank you.’
She felt sick as she hurried back down the highly waxed corridors, pausing at the nurse’s desk to ask where Gus’s room was, then speeding on as quickly as her shaky legs allowed.
When she reached Gus’s room, she caught a glimpse of him lying in the bed, apparently asleep and with a distressing number of tubes attached to him. He was flanked by his mother and his father, and Deirdre Wilder rose quickly and hurried to the door on tiptoe, a finger raised to her lips, her eyes fierce, demanding silence.
‘Angus shouldn’t be disturbed,’ she hissed.
‘Is he OK?’
Frowning elaborately, Deirdre stepped out into the corridor. ‘He came through the operation splendidly, but he’s sleeping off the anaesthetic. The nurses warned us he’ll need strong painkillers and they might make him sleepy.’
A Miracle for His Secret Son Page 13