‘You know we do our best!’ Betty said. ‘Of course we’ll pick him up.’
Bridgette looked over at the caseworker, who gave a bit of a nod that told her to go on. ‘He’s due to have surgery…’ She was finding a voice and she knew what to do with it, was grateful for Dominic’s advice because she’d heeded it. ‘He’s on the waiting list for grommets and if that comes up while he’s in my care I want to be able to go ahead. I want written permission obtained so that when Harry is in my care, or at any time I’m concerned, I can speak to doctors and I can take him to appointments. And I want—’
‘I don’t want him in daycare,’ Courtney chimed in. ‘I’ve told you—I’m not going anywhere. I decide what treatment he has and who he sees.’
‘That’s fine.’ Bridgette looked at her sister. ‘You have every right to refuse what I’m offering. But I can’t stand aside any more. If you don’t accept my conditions…’ It was the hardest thing she would ever say and could only be said if it was meant. Whether he was serious or not, she was incredibly grateful for Dominic’s offer last night. ‘Then you can deal with it. I’ll move to Sydney.’
‘Bridgette!’ Her mum almost stood up. ‘You know you don’t mean that.’
‘But I do—because I can’t live like this. I can’t watch Harry being passed around like a parcel. So it’s either you accept my terms or I’m moving to Sydney.’
‘You said you’d always be there for me.’ Courtney started to cry, only this time it didn’t move Bridgette. ‘You promised…’
‘Well, that makes us both liars, then,’ Bridgette said. ‘Because I can remember you saying exactly the same to Harry the day he was born.’
‘Bridgette.’ Her mum was trying to be firm, to talk sense into her sensible daughter. ‘You know you’re not going anywhere. Why Sydney?’
‘I’ve met someone,’ Bridgette said. ‘And he’s from there.’ Betty had seen the happy couple, that were back as Bridgette’s screensaver, when she’d had a nose in her daughter’s spare room, had tutted at the two faces smiling back, and she had a terrible feeling her daughter might actually mean what she was saying.
‘You love Courtney…’ Maurice broke in.
‘I’m not sure if I do,’ Bridgette said, and she truly wasn’t sure that she did. ‘I honestly don’t know that I do.’
‘You love Harry.’ Betty triumphed.
‘Yes, I do. So if she wants my help then she can have it, but those are my conditions and she needs to know that any time I think Harry is at risk I will speak up.’ She walked out of the meeting because she had nothing left to say. It had to be up to Courtney. She walked over to the ward and saw Harry sitting in his cot, building his bricks. She let down the cot side and held out her arms. She had meant every word she had said in that room, had convinced herself of it last night, but there was a piece of her that was hidden apart, a piece of her that no one must ever see, because as she picked up her nephew and buried her face in his curls, she knew she could never leave him. They just had to believe that she might.
Dominic watched her cuddling Harry and he wanted to go over, to find out what was happening, but instead he picked up the phone.
It was the longest morning, even though he had plenty to do, but he could not get involved, or be seen to be getting involved, which surely she knew, but still he felt like a bastard.
‘Do you want me to give Harry his lunch?’ Jennifer, one of the nurses, offered. ‘You can go to the canteen, maybe have a little break?’
‘I’m fine,’ Bridgette said. ‘They’re still in the meeting. I’ll give him his lunch and then—’ she took a deep breath ‘—I’m going home.’
‘Jennifer!’ Dominic’s voice barked across the ward. ‘Can you hold on to Harry’s lunch for now, please, and keep him nil by mouth until I’ve spoken to his mum?’
‘What’s going on?’ Bridgette frowned.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Jennifer admitted. ‘Wait there and I’ll find out.’ And she went over and spoke to Dominic, but instead of coming back and informing Bridgette, Jennifer headed off to the conference room. The group was just coming out and it was clear that Courtney had been crying but, along with Jennifer, they all headed back inside.
‘What’s going on?’ She went up to him.
‘Someone’s coming down to speak to his mother.’
‘Dominic!’ She couldn’t believe he’d do this to her.
‘I’d go home now if I were you.’
‘You know I can’t.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You can.’ She looked at him, met those lovely black eyes and somehow she trusted him. ‘Go home,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you’ve got an awful lot to do.’ She just stood there. ‘Maybe tidy that bedroom, young lady.’
And she trusted him, she really did, but she knew he was leaving tomorrow, knew that right now he was saying goodbye.
‘Go,’ he said, ‘and when she calls, don’t come back.’ He gave her a small wink. ‘You only answer if it’s me.’
‘I can’t do that. I can’t just leave him.’
‘You can,’ he said. ‘I’m here.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHEN her phone rang fifteen minutes later, she was driving, just approaching the roundabout, and she didn’t pull over so she could take the call, as she usually would have. She didn’t indicate when she saw that it was Courtney and instead she drove straight on.
Dominic was there.
She felt as if Dominic was there in the car beside her.
It rang again and this time it was her mum. Still, she ignored it.
Then it rang again as she arrived home and she sat at her computer before answering.
‘Oh. Hi, Mum!’
‘You didn’t pick up.’
‘I was driving.’
‘Where are you?’ she asked. ‘I thought you’d gone down to the canteen.’
‘I’m at home,’ she said, as if she was breathing normally, as if home was the natural place she should be.
‘Well, you need to get here!’ Bridgette stared at her screensaver and tried to shut out the sound of her mother’s panic. ‘The doctors are here and they say Harry needs an operation. There’s a space that’s opened up on the list and they want him to have an operation!’ she said again really loudly.
‘What operation?’
‘He has to have surgery on his ears, and if she doesn’t sign the consent, he’ll go back on the list…’ She could hear the panic in her mother’s voice. ‘Bridgette, you need to get here. You know what your sister’s like—Courtney can’t make a decision. She’s gone off!’
‘It’s a tiny operation, Mum. It could do him an awful lot of good.’
‘Bridgette, please, they’ve added him to the list this evening. Courtney’s going crazy!’
‘Mum…’ Bridgette looked into Dominic’s eyes as she spoke, and then into her own and wanted to be her again, wanted to be the woman who smiled and laughed and lived. ‘It’s up to Courtney to give consent. If not, he can go on the waiting list and wait, but it would be a shame, because his hearing is really bad.’ She stood up. ‘I’ve got to go, Mum. I’ve got things to do. Give Harry a big kiss from his aunty Bridgette. Tell him that I’ll bring him in a nice present for being brave.’ And she rang off.
She took the phone into the bathroom with her and because she didn’t have any bubble bath, she used shampoo, put on a load of washing while she was waiting for the bath to fill and every time the phone rang, she did not pick up.
And then she did her hair, straightened it and put on blusher and lipstick too, even though she knew Dominic was on call and wouldn’t be coming round. Then when her phone finally fell silent, she tackled her bedroom, worked out how to use a stud finder and put up the shelves that had been sitting in cardboard for way too long. Then the phone bleeped a text and it was
from Dominic.
She took a breath and read it.
Op went well—he’s back on ward and having a drink. Home tomoz.
She felt the tension seep out of her.
Should I come in now?
She was quite sure what the response would be, that he’d tell her to stay put, that Courtney was there and to let her deal with it, but as she waited for his reply, there was a knock at the door and when her phone bleeped he didn’t say what she’d thought he might.
No, stay put—your mum’s with him.
She wanted to know what was happening so badly. She had this stupid vision it was him as, phone in hand, she opened the door.
Instead it was her father and Courtney.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IT WAS a long night and he was glad when it hit six a.m. and there were just a couple of hours to go.
‘Cot Four.’ Karan, the night nurse, looked up from the baby she was feeding. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Dominic said, and headed in.
He took off his jacket, glanced again at Harry, who sitting there staring, and then proceeded to wash his hands. When he turned around, Harry was smiling. Dominic couldn’t help himself from looking at the pull-out bed beside him, relieved to see that Betty was there.
He didn’t know what had happened.
He’d heard the explosions from the fuse he’d lit when he’d asked for a favour from Raymond and a certain blue-eyed theatre nurse, but he’d been up and down between here and NICU and had never caught up as to what had really gone on.
He smiled back at Harry and then headed over to the cot opposite him, carefully
examining the baby who was causing concern, pleased with her progress.
‘How’s Harry Joyce?’ he asked Karan. He had every right to enquire as he was the paediatrician on call that night and Karan wouldn’t know that he had stepped aside from the case.
‘He’s doing well.’ Karan smiled. ‘You could see the difference in him almost as soon as he came back from Theatre. He must have been struggling with his ears for a while. He’s much more smiley and he’s making a few more noises, even had a little dance in his cot. He’s off home in the morning to the care of Mum.’ She pulled out a notebook. ‘Hold on a moment. Sorry, he’s home with his aunt tomorrow. There was a big case meeting today apparently. Lots of drama.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I haven’t had a chance to read the notes yet.’ She stood up and collected the folder and put it in front of him. ‘Should make interesting reading.’
Karan walked back to the nursery to put down the baby she had been feeding and Dominic sat there, tempted to read the notes, to find out all that had gone on. It would be so easy to. ‘So this is your last morning.’ Tony stopped by the desk, just as Dominic went to open the folder. Tony had been up and used the parent showers before all the others did, was dressed and ready for when Abuela came in.
‘It is,’ Dominic said. ‘I’m flying to Sydney this afternoon.’
‘Well, thanks again.’ Tony stifled a yawn.
‘You must be exhausted.’ It was Dominic who extended the conversation.
‘Ah, but it’s Saturday,’ Tony said. ‘I’m going home to sleep. That’s if the twins and Esperanza let me.’
‘You’ve got a lot on your plate,’ Dominic said, but Tony just grinned.
‘Better than an empty plate.’
Dominic stood up and shook Tony’s hand and when Tony had gone he stepped away from the notes. Bridgette didn’t deserve her ex reading up on her private life. If he wanted to know, he should ask her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘HARRY!’ She took him into her arms and wrapped him in a hug, truly delighted to have him home. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’ And she carried him in to what had been her study as well as Courtney’s room and spare room. The cot had been folded and put away (well, it had been neatly put away under Bridgette’s bed till she hauled it to the charity shop on Monday) and the bed that had been under a pile of ironing now had a little safety rail, new bedding and a child’s bedside light. There were new curtains, a new stash of bricks in a toy box and an intercom was all set up.
‘You’ve been busy,’ her mum said when she saw Harry’s new bedroom. ‘Isn’t he a bit young for a bed?’
‘Well, at least he can’t climb out of it. I’ll just have to make sure I close the bedroom door or he’ll be roaming the place at night.’
‘It looks lovely.’ Betty smiled at her daughter. ‘I’m sorry that we haven’t been much help.’
‘You have been,’ Bridgette said, because she couldn’t stand her parents’ guilt and they had probably been doing their best.
‘No,’ her mum corrected. ‘We’ve been very busy burying our heads in the sand, trying to pretend that everything was okay, when clearly it wasn’t. We’re going to be around for you much more, and Harry too.’
‘And Courtney?’ Bridgette watched her mother’s lips purse. ‘She needs your support more than anyone.’
‘We’re paying for rehab,’ Betty said.
‘It’s not going to be an instant fix,’ Bridgette said, but she didn’t go on. She could see how tired her parents looked, not from recent days but from recent years. ‘We can get through this, Mum,’ Bridgette said, ‘if we all help each other.’
‘What about you, though?’ It was the first time her father had really spoken since they’d arrived. ‘What about that young man of yours, the one in Sydney?’
‘Let’s not talk about that, Dad.’ It hurt too much to explore at the moment. It was something she wanted to examine and think about in private—when she had calmed down fully, when she was safely alone, then she would deal with all she had lost for her sister, again. But her father was finally stepping up, as she had asked him to, and not burying his head in the sand as he usually did—which was a good thing, though perhaps not right now.
‘We need to discuss it, Bridgette.’ He sat down and looked her square in the eye. ‘We didn’t know you were serious about someone.’
‘It never really got a chance to be serious,’ Bridgette said.
‘We should have had Harry more.’
Yes, you bloody should have, she wanted to say, but that wasn’t fair on them, because really it wasn’t so much Harry who had got in the way; it had been her too—she hadn’t wanted a relationship, hadn’t wanted to let another close. ‘Things will be different now,’ Bridgette said instead.
‘You could go away for the odd weekend now and then…’ her dad said. And teeny little wisps of hope seemed to rise in her stomach, but she doused them—it was simply too late.
After her parents had gone, Bridgette made Harry some lunch and then cuddled him on the sofa. She did exactly what she’d tried not to—she let herself love him. Of course she always had, but now she didn’t hold back. She kissed his lovely curls and then smiled into his sleepy eyes and told him that everything was going to be okay, that Mum was getting well, that she would always be here for him.
And she would be.
It was a relief to acknowledge it, to step back from the conflict and ignore the push and pull as to who was wrong and who was right—she wasn’t young, free and single, she had a very young heart to take care of.
‘You wait there,’ she said to Harry as the doorbell rang. They were curled up, watching a DVD. Harry was nearly ready to be put down for his afternoon nap and Bridgette was rather thinking that she might just have one too.
‘Dominic!’ He was the last person she was expecting to see, though maybe not. She knew that he did care about her, knew he would want to know how she was.
He wasn’t a bastard unfortunately. It would be so much easier to paint him as one—they just had different lives, that was all.
‘I thought you had a gangster party to be at!’
> ‘I’ve got a couple of hours till the plane.’ He was dressed in a black suit. ‘I’ve just got to put on a tie and glasses—Mum’s sent me a fake gun, though I’d better not risk it on the plane.’ His smile faded a touch. ‘I wanted to see how the meeting had gone…’
‘Didn’t you hear?’ Bridgette said, quite sure the whole hospital must have heard by now. ‘Or you could have read the notes.’ He saw her tight smile, knew that Bridgette, more than anyone, would have hated things being played out on such a public stage—it was her workplace, after all. She opened the door. ‘Come in.’
He was surprised to see how well she looked, or perhaps surprised wasn’t the right word—he was in awe. Her hair swished behind her as she walked, all glossy and shiny as it had been that first night, and he could smell her perfume. She looked bright and breezy and not what he had expected.
Back perhaps to the woman he had met.
‘I didn’t want to read the notes,’ Dominic said, walking through to the lounge. ‘Though I heard that Harry had come home with you…’ His voice trailed off as he saw Harry lying on the lounge, staring warily at him. ‘Hi, there, Harry.’
Harry just stared.
‘What happened to the nice smile that you used to give me when I came on the ward?’ Dominic asked, but Harry did not react.
‘Do you want a drink?’ Bridgette offered, though perhaps it was more for herself. She wanted a moment or two in the kitchen alone, just to gather her thoughts before they had to do what she had been dreading since the night they had first met—officially say goodbye. ‘Or some lunch perhaps?’ She looked at the clock. ‘A late lunch.’
‘I won’t have anything,’ Dominic said. ‘I’ll have something on the plane and there will be loads to eat tonight. A coffee would be great, though.’ It had already been a very long day. ‘You’ve changed the living room.’
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