A Child to Heal Them

by Louisa Heaton

  He looked at her. She was terrified. Her worst fears were coming true—so much so that she had frozen, unable to do anything.

  But he needed her. Needed her desperately to help him.

  ‘Tasha! Look at me. Look. At. Me!’

  Her terrified gaze shifted to his face. ‘I need you to help me. I need you to do CPR. She’s stopped breathing. I need you to help her.’

  ‘I...’ Tasha looked down at little Abeje, who lay lifeless and non-responsive on the bed. ‘I can’t!’

  ‘Yes, you can! I can’t do it like this. Quickly! Please! If you don’t help her now...’ He didn’t want to finish his sentence. He didn’t want to say the words.

  Then she’ll definitely die.

  She was the one who had to do this. He could maybe attempt chest compressions with one hand, but they needed her lying flat. They needed to remove those pillows. Get a backboard so that the chest compressions would have a decent effect.

  He grabbed hold of the pillows and yanked. Abeje’s head flopped onto the mattress. He couldn’t open up her airway with one hand—he needed Tasha!

  And suddenly she was there. Her hands crossed over each other, in the centre of Abeje’s chest, doing compressions, her face a mask of agony, her tortured voice counting out to thirty as tears streamed down her face.

  ‘I’ll get the backboard.’

  He ran over to the side of the room, grabbed it off the wall, where it hung in case of emergencies such as this one, and then came running back.

  ‘Help me slide it under.’

  He had no idea what had suddenly caused the little girl to go into respiratory distress. It had just happened. But he saw this all the time, and he hated it that he’d known something like this might still happen. She’d taken so long to get better, and she’d always seemed so weak. He’d sensed this. Suspected that something might still go wrong, that she wasn’t out of the woods yet.

  If she dies...

  He couldn’t think about that right now. Ifs. Whats. Maybes. All that mattered was following life-saving protocols. Nothing else.

  Kids frequently went into respiratory distress. It was more common for that to happen than a cardiac arrest. But it could lead to a cardiac event.

  He checked her pulse.

  It was absent.

  ‘I’m going to get the crash cart—keep going!’

  Tasha was giving her two breaths as he rushed away for the cart, which was on the far side of the ward, and when he returned she was back doing compressions.

  ‘Fifteen...sixteen...seventeen...’

  ‘You’re doing great, Tash.’

  He reached for the pads, but they were in a pack that needed to be torn open. He couldn’t do that with one hand.

  ‘Open these.’

  Using the heel of his right hand he continued to do compressions whilst Tasha fumbled with the pack, ripping it open audibly. And he continued to pump up and down as Tasha placed the pads—one near the right shoulder, just under the collarbone, the second just below Abeje’s left breast.

  Analysing.

  The machine paused to read Abeje’s heart trace, if any.

  Shock required. Stand clear.

  Tasha checked to make sure he’d stepped away from the bed, and then she pressed the button with the little red lightning flash on it.

  ‘Shocking!’ she yelled.

  At the moment the charge was delivered the ward door swung open, smacking the wall behind it, and in ran Rob. He took one look and then ran to them instantly to take over compressions.

  Maintain CPR.

  Quinn stepped back, exhausted and spent, his injured shoulder raging with pain, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the little girl.

  Analysing.

  No shock required.

  Rob checked her pulse. ‘She’s back. I’ve got a pulse!’

  They gave her full-flow oxygen again and Rob rolled her into the recovery position, constantly monitoring her breathing.

  Abeje began to moan as she came to.

  Quinn let out a long breath, relief flooding through him as he looked at Tasha. She stood there white as the bedsheet, horror in her eyes, staring at her hands. At what they’d had to do.

  ‘Tasha? You okay?’

  She looked at him. A startled rabbit in the headlights. It was as if she’d just seen something in him that she’d never seen before.

  Turning, she bolted from the ward.

  He couldn’t go after her. He had to stay and help Rob in case Abeje went into arrest again.

  She wasn’t in the clear yet.

  * * *

  What had just happened?

  Tasha couldn’t believe it. One minute they’d been smiling and looking at pictures, and the next...

  It had turned into a nightmare.

  A nightmare!

  Her worst fears...

  She’d been depending upon Quinn to keep Abeje safe. Trusting him with her, trusting the medication, trusting in his care, and it had been hard for her. The worst thing she’d ever had to do because...

  Because she’d tried to save Maddie and she had failed. But she had tried to save Abeje and she had started breathing again. They’d got her back.

  Her belief in her own abilities was changing, and she’d realised something as she’d pumped up and down on Abeje’s chest. Something that had become quite clear as she’d tried to save the little girl’s life.

  She needed Abeje to survive—not just because it would be awful if she died, but also because she was beginning to believe she could have a family. Beginning to believe that she could love again. Beginning to believe that she was worth caring for.

  And she couldn’t lose her family.

  Not just Abeje, but Quinn too.

  She’d been through some tough times in the last few years, but she was still here. Still upright. Still trying to live and love.

  She already loved Abeje, but she wanted to love Quinn, too.

  He’d helped her to get Abeje back. They’d done it together. And she’d seen in his face, in his eyes, in the depth of his soul that he was trying everything he could, trying his utmost to bring Abeje back to her. One of her most precious loves.

  It wasn’t shock at the realisation that Abeje had survived—it was shock at the realisation that she’d put herself out there again...for him. To give him her heart...to give him her trust, her love.

  Only he didn’t want it, did he?

  She’d seen the regret in his eyes after they’d made love. The guilt he’d felt. The shame? She had almost felt him backpedalling away from what they’d done when he’d got out of bed and asked her to help him put his shirt back on. He’d barely been able to look at her.

  But the life or death crisis over Abeje had cleared the veil from her eyes. Her heart beat for him. It always had. It was probably in sync with his, both beating like hearts in a mirror.

  And he was discarding her once again. Discarding her as her parents had. As Simon had. As he had when they were teenagers. Only back then she hadn’t slept with him. Now she had, and that hurt even more.

  Abeje’s crisis had made her see her own.

  She couldn’t look at him.

  Couldn’t bear the idea of meeting his gaze.

  That was why she’d run away, needing fresh air, needing space to get some perspective on what she would have to do.

  Abeje will want me by her bedside.

  But still she couldn’t go in.

  I don’t need to see the goodbye in his eyes.

  She’d cared.

  Loved.

  Had given her heart to him.

  And now it hurt. Hurt as if someone had reached inside her chest, ripped her still-beating heart from it and then crushed it right before her eyes.

  A low, keening groan escaped her lips as
she bent double, almost unable to breathe.

  This was it.

  This was what the pain felt like when you lost everything.

  She couldn’t go back.

  She couldn’t face anyone.

  Not Abeje, not Rob, Maria.

  Not Quinn.

  None of them.

  Because she was a failure. Everyone else had always known it but her, it seemed.

  She couldn’t do this.

  She didn’t have the strength.

  Now Quinn would see her for what she really was.

  A coward.

  And he would leave her—just like everyone else in her life had already done.

  * * *

  Quinn wiped the clammy sweat from his brow and sat down, exhausted. His shoulder burned like nothing he had ever experienced before. A white-hot ball of fire. But it was nothing to the pain of the emptiness he felt inside.

  Tasha had scared him. The way she’d stood there frightened, frozen in fear, when he’d needed her to help him. Needed her to help save Abeje! He’d not been able to do it alone, he’d needed her help. When she had just stood there like a statue for one terrible moment he’d thought he’d have to try and do it alone, and if he’d had to do that, with just one arm, try to do CPR and apply pads and provide breaths, he knew he would have failed.

  Abeje would have died. His worst fear would have been realised.

  Thankfully Tasha had leapt into action—but that pause, that hesitation, that inability to move had terrified him. He’d not been ready to lose that little girl and he’d certainly not been ready to give in. He couldn’t have.

  Because he’d known if he had to wrap his arms around Tasha one more time to stop himself seeing her heart torn asunder he would be lost.

  He’d be hers.

  Totally and utterly.

  And that scared the hell out of him.

  He’d loved a woman and a child before. He’d made them his everything. And when he’d lost everything he had known how absolutely soul-destroying it could be. There was no way he wanted to go through that again.

  But they’d been lucky. They’d worked as a team, they’d saved her life, and then Rob had arrived to provide relief and there had been more hands, and Abeje had been breathing again, and...

  She was stable for now. They’d done a scan and discovered that Abeje had fluid in her lungs—he wasn’t sure if it was a result of the parasitical infection or not at this moment, but they were treating her now. She was awake, her face covered by a high-flow oxygen mask, and she was talking. Sore, but talking.

  Quinn was sure that she would be okay. It had been tricky there for a while, but he believed her crisis was over.

  And Tasha was nowhere to be seen.

  Abeje was asking for her. Missing her. They’d grown close, those two, like mother and daughter, and Abeje wanted her ‘mum’—like all kids when they’re sick. Tasha was the closest thing to a mum that Abeje would ever have.

  Well, if she couldn’t have her mum...

  He slipped into the chair at the side of Abeje’s bed and took her hand in his, cradling it as if it was a jewel. Stroking it. Trying to convey with the power of touch his concern, his love.

  ‘Miss Tasha’s just getting some fresh air. You know you scared us?’

  Abeje nodded. ‘I was scared, too.’

  ‘I bet.’ His heart bled for her. She was so strong—so brave! So...

  And that was when he realised. He didn’t just care for Abeje because she was part of Tasha’s package—he cared for Abeje because he really cared about her! He didn’t want her to be hurt. He didn’t want her to feel frightened and alone and now he had stepped in. Stepped over the mark that doctors should not cross and taken up the mantle of a father.

  It shocked him.

  Scared him.

  But, although the shock of adrenaline that hit his system made his legs feel weak, he also realised something else about himself.

  It’s okay. I can do this.

  He wanted to do it! Wanted to expose himself in that way to the terrifying reality of being a parent again—but he wanted to do it with Tasha. She was his beating heart. His soul. His life. He couldn’t live without her. Even now, with her gone, it was unbearable!

  Sure, he’d felt guilty after they’d made love—but wasn’t that to be expected? It had been his first time with a woman since his wife.

  He didn’t want to leave either of them.

  He needed to let Tasha know how he truly felt.

  ‘I’m going to get Tasha. Bring her back to the boat,’ he told Rob as he came to Abeje’s bedside to adjust her drip.

  ‘All right, mate.’

  It was like an oven outside as he strode out of the cool air-conditioned ship and into the heat of the African sun. His painkillers were just starting to take the edge off his pain, but they weren’t touching the pain he felt in his heart at the thought that he might not get her to come back.

  He expected to have to go all the way to her house, but as he stomped down the gangplank he saw her at the bottom, sitting on the bonnet of his rusty car.

  She looked up. Saw him coming and then madly wiped her eyes and got up to walk away. ‘Please go away. I don’t want to see you.’

  ‘We need to talk.’

  She spun round, glaring at him, her eyes watering. ‘How’s Abeje?’

  ‘Stable. Asking for you.’

  ‘I can’t go in looking like this. Tell her I’ll be in soon.’

  ‘You look amazing.’

  ‘Don’t! Just...don’t. None of your pity, please. I know how you feel and you don’t have to tell me twice. I’m used to rejection, and I’m particularly used to rejection from you!’

  ‘I love you, Tasha Kincaid.’

  It felt good to say it. To say it out loud. And proud. He didn’t have to hide from those feelings any more.

  ‘What?’ she looked at him, incredulous, through blurred red eyes.

  ‘I love you. From the top of your curls all the way to your toes. I love you and I want to be with you.’

  She blinked. Confused. Shook her head. ‘But after we...’

  ‘I was frightened. I felt guilty about Hannah. I hadn’t been with anyone since she passed away. You were my first. I was shocked by how it made me feel. But what we just did—we saved a life! Saved Abeje’s life! It’s made me see just what I don’t want to lose. I’ve always tried to avoid this. Mothers and their children. And for the most part I’ve been successful. But you, Tasha, you came into my life like an explosion of feelings I wasn’t ready for. You confused me. Made me second-guess myself. I wasn’t sure what I was doing half the time. But then we saved Abeje, and, I held her hand, and I realised that I was ready. Ready to love again. Ready to be a partner. A husband. A father. I can do it. But only if I have you by my side.’

  She wrapped her arms around her waist. ‘People I love always leave me.’

  He stepped up to her, unpeeled her arms and took her hands in his. ‘Not me. Not me.’

  She looked at him uncertainly. ‘You mean this? It isn’t a joke? One last joke on Nit-Nat? Because if it is then you’re being very cruel.’

  He kissed her hands. ‘I mean it.’

  ‘What if I’m not good enough? What if you realise that after all this time I really am just Nit-Nat? The girl you despised.’

  ‘I never despised you. Never. There was nothing wrong with you, Tash. That was all me, being stupid. Like I’ve been stupid these last few days, allowing fear and shame to control me as it did all those years ago. But you make me strong. If I have you then we can get through anything together, and I just know—if we let it—we could have a great future.’

  ‘But you’re leaving soon.’

  ‘No. I’m not. I’ll stay here. What if...? What if we build a clinic together? So the people we love here
can have medical care when they need it—not after a two-day walk in forty-degree heat, or after waiting for a ship to pull into port? We can build our dreams here, Tash. Together. What do you say?’

  She seemed to be thinking about it. Keeping him in agony until a small smile began to build upon her face.

  ‘Tell me you love me again.’

  He let out a breath and beamed her his best smile.

  ‘I love you, Tasha Kincaid. Now, tell me you feel the same.’

  ‘You always were the root of my problems, Quinn Shapiro.’

  ‘But...?’

  A smile broke across her face. ‘But I love you.’

  He scooped her up and whirled her round, then put her down only to cradle her face and kiss her.

  ‘Right. We can celebrate later. Right now there’s a young girl that wants to see you.’

  He took her hand and began to pull her up the gangplank.

  ‘Quinn?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Thank you. For everything.’

  He smiled.

  EPILOGUE

  ‘WE DON’T WANT to be late. Have you got your shoes on?’

  Tasha popped her head into Abeje’s bedroom and saw her daughter fastening the buckles on her sandals.

  She held out her hand. ‘Come on.’

  Wearing sunhats and their finest dresses, they left the house hand in hand.

  ‘Will Daddy be at the clinic?’

  ‘Yes. He had to get there early. He wanted to do one last check on the place before we open it up to the public.’

  ‘And I get to cut the ribbon?’

  She smiled. ‘You get to cut the ribbon.’

  Abeje was so excited about being the one to open the clinic. But it seemed right. They’d thought about getting the town leader to do it, but they wanted someone close to them to do it. They’d adopted Ntembe as their home, and Abeje as their daughter, so it seemed only right. It wasn’t favouritism, or nepotism. This was her home. Her city. She’d lived here before they had.

  The long dark days of malaria were behind them. Abeje had grown big and tall, thriving in the warmth of a loving family. The day the adoption papers had gone through had been the happiest of their lives. Their next dream? To open this clinic!

  A crowd had gathered outside, and it took them some time to work their way through it to the front. There were so many people Tasha knew now, and they all wanted to stop her, say hello, shake her hand or kiss her on the cheek. Thank her for what they were doing for their community.