Cold Feet: The Lost Years

by Carmel Harrington

  ‘What went wrong?’ Adam asked.

  ‘Josh was upset. He had a terrible nightmare. He sobbed. His little heart was hammering so fast. So of course, he needed to sleep with me. And he was frightful to Robyn. She couldn’t do enough for him, but he kept throwing it back at her,’ David said.

  ‘And Robyn is annoyed by that?’ Pete thought that was a bit much.

  ‘Oh gosh no. She was gracious and understanding. She was wonderful, really. Planned lots of treats and fun things for the children. But Josh just can’t seem to take to her.’

  ‘Sounds like you have your hands full, mate. Keeping two women happy is a fate I wouldn’t wish on any man!’ Adam said. ‘Listen, I’ll call over to see Karen tomorrow night. We’ll stay the night. I’ve been meaning to do that, to check in.’

  ‘She’d like that,’ David said. ‘I think she feels the loneliness most in the evenings. And I’m worried she might have a drink.’

  They all picked up their cans and took a swig as they thought about the disaster it was when Karen was drinking too much a few years back.

  Then the baby monitor’s light flashed and Matthew’s cries filled the living room.

  ‘Make it quick, mate. Five minutes to second half,’ Pete said.

  Adam ran up the stairs, but before he reached the top one, the smell hit him. Ah Matthew, he thought, your timing is brutal! He thought about going into the nursery to change him. But there was a good chance he’d wake little Adam there. So he scooped up his son, throwing the changing bag over his shoulders as he ran downstairs, trying to soothe him. Matthew, meanwhile, was intent on not just waking up little Adam, but also the whole street.

  ‘Poonami alert,’ Adam said.

  ‘We kind of smelled that,’ Pete answered, placing his onion ring and curry dip, back on the table. His appetite had suddenly gone.

  ‘Sorry,’ Adam laughed, seeing his face. ‘I’ll change him on the table. I didn’t do it upstairs, in case it woke up little Adam.’

  ‘Appreciate that,’ Pete said.

  Adam pulled his changing towel out of the bag and laid it flat on the dining room table, with one hand. He’d become good at this. He remembered that first month after Matthew was born; two hands weren’t enough to do everyday jobs with a baby. Now he could manage with one hand tied behind his back, quite admirably. He placed Matthew gently on top of the towel. He was still screaming his head off and didn’t seem ready to stop the tears. There was only one thing for it. He’d discovered that one song could halt tears in moments. They’d been in Bill’s car a few weeks back and as soon as this song came on, Matthew ceased crying.

  ‘I’m gonna have to sing to him,’ Adam shouted over to the lads.

  ‘Glam rock time?’ Pete asked. He’d witnessed this a few times now.

  Adam nodded. Pete and David walked up behind him, flanking him on either side.

  In his best falsetto, he started to sing the song ‘I Believe in a Thing Called Love’ by The Darkness. Then Pete and David joined in.

  Matthew immediately stopped crying and Adam said, ‘Keep going, keep going!’ So they all continued singing about a thing called love.

  By the time they got to the end of the song, Matthew was back to his usual good-natured self and Adam had managed to clean him up and put a new clean babygro on him.

  ‘Thanks, lads,’ Adam said. Then, with a glint in his eye, pure devilment on his mind, he turned towards David and Pete, and pegged the closed nappy bag at them both, shouting, ‘On the head, son.’

  He roared laughing as he watched David and Pete both try to dodge the bag, and in that second, despite having his hand on Matthew’s tummy, his attention was diverted. Matthew wiggled in excitement, picking up on the energy in the room and rolled on his side. Adam went to place his hands on his son’s tummy, but Matthew was literally on a roll and moved again, this time falling off the table.

  Adam’s screams bounced between the men as he tried to grab the babygro between his fingertips, but the weight of Matthew and gravity were not on his side. His fingers lost their grip and in one sickening thud, Matthew fell to the ground.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Humpty Dumpty fall and wise Dr Gates

  Pete and Jenny’s house, Didsbury, Manchester

  David and Pete rushed forward at the same time, both with their arms open in an effort to catch Matthew too. But they both had the sickening realisation that, like Adam, they were too late.

  For a second, a nanosecond, silence boomed through the room, bouncing off the walls, only shattered by the strangled sobs of Adam.

  ‘Oh Jesus, oh Matthew, my boy . . .’ Terror flooded Adam’s body. His knees sagged under the weight of his guilt and he fell to the ground beside his son. He began begging God that Matthew would be okay.

  As Adam’s pleas filled the room, muddled together with the sound of ragged breaths from Pete and David, as if they’d been running, Matthew lay still on the ground.

  Then his eyes opened wide and he emitted a shriek of pain that made them all jump.

  ‘He’s crying. That’s a good sign,’ David said, sounding calmer than he felt.

  ‘It’s when they don’t cry that you should worry,’ Pete added. His mother always said that.

  ‘Should I pick him up? I don’t know what to do!’ Adam turned to ask them, tears pouring down his face. He lay down, so his head was side by side Matthew’s and he softly, gently, caressed his son’s cheek.

  Matthew instinctively moved towards his father, trying to wriggle on to his side.

  David kneeled beside him. ‘Let’s just have a quick look to see if there is any swelling or bruising on his head.’ Adam’s sharp intake of breath made him quickly add, ‘I’m sure there’s nothing wrong.’

  David kneeled on the other side of the child and as he gently moved his head side to side, Matthew stopped crying, looking at him with curiosity.

  ‘He’s moving without any obvious distress and there’s no bleeding that I can see. I think we should bring him to A&E, just to ensure he’s okay,’ David said.

  Adam nodded, grateful that somebody was taking control. He tried to kneel so he could pick up Matthew, but he was still shaking and unsteady.

  ‘Shall I take him?’ David asked gently.

  ‘No. I’ve got this,’ Adam said, telling himself to calm down. His son needed him to be strong.

  He stood up, with David and Pete’s arms steadying him. Pete put his soft cot blanket over Matthew with extreme tenderness.

  ‘If anything happens to him, if he’s hurt . . .’ Adam began, then faltered, unable to continue.

  ‘Nothing is going to happen to Matthew,’ Pete said.

  ‘I couldn’t go on, you see,’ Adam ended, his voice broken with emotion.

  ‘You never have to find that out, mate,’ Pete said. ‘He’s fine. He’s a strong ’un, like his dad. Look at him!’ Matthew was reaching up to honk Adam’s nose.

  ‘I’ll drive. Why don’t you jump in the back with Matthew?’ David said.

  ‘I need to stay with little Adam,’ Pete said, feeling awful. ‘But I’ll keep in touch, by phone, promise.’

  The drive to the hospital went by in a blur. Matthew whined when Adam placed him in his car seat. He sat beside him and continued to stroke and soothe him, continuously whispering endearments.

  ‘What if he’s broken a bone?’ Adam asked. ‘He’s very agitated.’

  ‘Then they’ll fix it,’ David replied, glancing at him in the rear-view mirror. He just hoped that there was nothing else going on internally that they couldn’t see. Babies’ heads were so heavy, they tended to fall head first. He kept glancing in the mirror, to double check that he was awake. He remembered hearing or reading at some point, that falling asleep would be bad. As far as he was concerned, the louder the cries, the better.

  Traffic was on their side and within ten minutes David was pulling up in front of A&E. ‘Go on in. I’ll park the car and come find you.’

  Adam gently took Matthew out of his car
seat and then ran into the hospital, holding him close to his body. He looked around the full waiting room, scanning for a nurse or doctor. People looked up, interested in the latest drama that had just entered the hospital, anything to break up the monotony of waiting for their turn to be seen.

  A nurse walked by and Adam ran up to her.

  ‘Can you help me?’ Adam asked.

  ‘Who’s hurt? You or the baby?’

  ‘My son.’

  ‘What happened?’ she asked as Adam followed her into the pre-assessment area.

  He babbled out an explanation and she nodded and smiled in sympathy as she took Matthew from him.

  ‘Let’s have a look, little man,’ she said softly, gently examining him from head to toe.

  Adam held his breath the whole way through, once again pleading with God to let everything be okay.

  ‘There doesn’t appear to be anything broken,’ she said.

  The relief at those words made him want to weep.

  ‘But I would like a doctor to see Matthew, just to rule out a head injury,’ she continued. ‘In the meantime, are you going to collapse on me?’

  Adam looked at her in confusion.

  ‘To be honest, I thought it was you who was hurt when I spotted you out there. You’re as white as a ghost.’

  ‘It was my fault,’ Adam said. ‘I let him fall. I should have been more careful. He just rolled off . . .’

  ‘If you knew how many babies come in here every week, for the very same reason. They are stronger than you think. Try not to worry, okay? You stay here with Matthew for now and I’ll be back in a bit, with a doctor,’ the nurse said kindly.

  She handed Adam back his son and told him to take a seat, pulling the curtain around him as she walked away.

  ‘You didn’t half give me a fright, wee man,’ Adam said.

  Matthew looked up at him, not in the least bit worried about his father’s near heart attack. Then he placed his fist in his mouth and sucked noisily on it.

  ‘You’re hungry, wee man,’ Adam said. He looked down for his changing bag where he always kept formula and a bottle of cooled-down water, ready to make a bottle on the go. But, of course, the bag wasn’t with him. Damn it. He never left anywhere without it. On a normal day that was. He’d ring David. He dialled his number and David answered on the second ring.

  ‘I need a bottle for Matthew and I don’t have his changing bag,’ Adam said.

  Then the curtain opened and David walked in, phone to his ear, holding Matthew’s changing bag up like a trophy. ‘This what you’re looking for?’

  ‘You bloody star!’ Adam said.

  ‘I grabbed it on the way out. Thought it might come in handy.’ David smiled. ‘Right, let’s get this bottle made.’ He opened the bag and rooted around until he found everything he needed.

  ‘A cheeky little cocktail for the young sir,’ David said as he shook the bottle vigorously. Matthew gurgled his appreciation, smacking his lips together, the way he always did when he was hungry.

  ‘Here you go,’ Adam said, giving the bottle to him. Then he filled David in on what the nurse had just said.

  Adam’s eyes were firmly on his son, he couldn’t pull them away. Waves of terror kept creeping over his body as he remembered the sound of the thud when Matthew hit the floor. Thank God it was carpeted.

  ‘I think I better go move the car. I just kind of dumped it. Will you be okay for a few minutes?’ David was reluctant to leave Adam and Matthew, but was worried he’d get clamped, and that would be no good for anyone, when it was time to bring them home.

  ‘I will,’ Adam said. He wanted to grab Matthew and run. No. That’s a lie. He wanted to run. He wanted to run so hard that his feet bled. Who the hell was he kidding, thinking he had any control over what he was doing? He was making it up as he went along and Matthew deserved better.

  ‘Hello,’ a woman said as she walked in holding a clipboard in one hand. In her fifties, with dark hair in a bob, she looked efficient and a little bit daunting.

  ‘Hello,’ Adam answered nervously. Maybe he’d be in trouble for dropping Matthew. Maybe they’d take him away from him. Fresh worries began to fight for his attention.

  ‘I’m Dr Gates. Looks like he’s enjoying that bottle.’ She nodded towards Matthew, who was holding his feed in his two little pudgy hands for dear life. He wasn’t going to give it up for anyone.

  ‘He was hungry. Can’t seem to keep him full at the minute,’ Adam said.

  ‘He’s what age now?’ She looked at the chart. ‘Nearly a year old.’

  Adam nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, he’s most likely having a growth spurt. My grandson is much the same age. My son said the same to me only last weekend.’

  ‘You don’t look old enough to be a grandmother,’ Adam said.

  She took the compliment. ‘I feel every day of my age right now. Have been on my feet nearly twelve hours straight.’

  Adam shook his head in amazement. Doctors and nurses were, as far as he was concerned, some of this world’s walking angels. The jobs they did every day, often working double shifts, well, it was remarkable.

  ‘Can I take a look at Matthew?’ She sat down on a chair beside Adam. ‘You keep holding him, and that way he can still have his bottle if he wants it. I’ll work around that.’

  She gently began feeling his arms and legs, making soothing noises as she did. Matthew became aware that a new possible fan was in town, so he took the bottle from his mouth for a moment and began blowing raspberries at her. Dr Gates began doing the age-old baby talk that adults do. ‘Ah the baba, dabba, dabba, doo.’

  Matthew showed his appreciation by blowing a kiss to her, to which Dr Gates emitted a laugh of appreciation that made Adam join in too.

  ‘He likes you,’ Adam said.

  ‘Well, I like him too. What a gorgeous little boy you have. Can we call anyone for you? Your wife?’ she asked.

  Adam sighed. He sometimes lied when he was in a situation like this. Where someone didn’t know about Rachel. It was difficult to take on other people’s reactions when he was such a mess himself. But there was something about Dr Gates that made him speak honestly. ‘She died.’

  Dr Gates kept one hand on Matthew’s head, then turned to Adam and placed her other hand on his arm. ‘That must be difficult for you.’

  He nodded. ‘She died. In here. This hospital. Car accident.’

  Dr Gates shook her head, as if doing so it would make the words untrue.

  ‘I’m sure being back here tonight is difficult for you. Can you talk me through exactly what happened to Matthew, so I can do all possible to get you home?’

  Adam recounted the events that led to Matthew’s fall one by one, leaving nothing out. Except for the bit about the accidental porn star. He figured that was best kept to himself.

  ‘It seems to me that between the carpet and you grabbing Matthew’s babygro, his fall was broken. It could have been so much worse,’ Dr Gates said.

  Adam began to shake once more. Did she think he’d didn’t know that?

  ‘You can’t take your eyes off them for a split second at this age. They are full of wonder with the world and their new crawling skills. They can’t help themselves.’

  ‘You think it was my fault. And you’re right. I should have been more careful.’

  Dr Gates turned to Adam. She looked him squarely in the eyes. ‘I’ve been doing this job for over thirty years. I’ve seen all levels of humanity walk through these doors. Good people and bad people. I try not to judge, but sometimes, it’s impossible to ignore the undertones between a husband and a wife, who presents herself with a bloodied and bruised face, needing stitches, who says she slipped and fell. Or a child who has fainted in school and is obviously malnourished. I’ve become a good judge of character.’ She paused and leaned in, touching Adam’s hand again. ‘This baby, your baby, is obviously well cared for. I watched you earlier, feeding him. This child is loved. And one mistake, one slip, doesn’t make you a ba
d parent. You remember that.’

  Adam sagged at her words and felt tears begin to bubble up in his eyes.

  ‘You’ve had a shock. In fact, Shelley our nurse, said that she thought you were the one who needed more medical attention than the baby!’ She smiled again.

  He had no words.

  ‘I’m so sorry about your wife.’

  ‘So am I.’

  His need for Rachel, his ache to see her, pierced and stabbed his arms, his legs, his head, his heart, till he thought he would bleed out.

  ‘Is your mum alive?’ she asked, the question taking Adam by surprise.

  He nodded.

  ‘Can I call her for you? Right now, I think you could do with some TLC too. And if she’s anything like me, there’s nothing she likes more than spending time with her boys,’ Dr Gates said.

  Adam wished that this woman he’d just met a few minutes before, was his mother. He would ask her to bring him home with her. He would climb into a soft bed and wake up to breakfast on a tray. He would feel safe and loved.

  ‘She doesn’t know about Matthew,’ he replied. ‘We fell out years ago. I haven’t seen her in a long time.’

  If the doctor was surprised, she didn’t show it. She just stood up and said, ‘Families, we’re a complicated thing, aren’t we? None of my business, but speaking as a mother and grandmother, there isn’t a reason I can think of that would make me turn my child away from my door. But for now, I’m happy to send you home. Come back if anything changes with Matthew, keep an eye on him. Nothing’s broken. There’s no bruising to his head. He’s alert, he’s eating, he’s happy. So I’m happy.’

  Adam was dumbstruck. The relief took his voice clean away.

  ‘But you’re not happy, are you?’ Dr Gates continued. ‘And who could blame you. So much on your plate. Have you someone with you? A friend?’

  He nodded once more.

  ‘Good,’ Dr Gates said. She kissed Matthew lightly on his forehead. ‘You’re such a good boy. Take care of your daddy.’

  Then she stood up and walked out.