St Piran's: Tiny Miracle Twins

by Maggie Kingsley

  ‘Not here in St Piran.’

  It was a statement, not a question, and Brianna bit her lip.

  ‘What would he do here, Megan? His whole career is centred around London. Coming to hospitals like St Piran’s…It’s a one-off commission, not a permanent job.’

  ‘He could change his life, his career,’ the paediatric specialist registrar pointed out. ‘People downsize all the time, throw up their high-powered jobs and move to the country to keep chickens or pigs.’

  Brianna let out a giggle. ‘Can you honestly see Connor keeping chickens or pigs?’

  ‘Well, no,’ Megan conceded, ‘but I’m sure there’s lots of other things he could do if he put his mind to it.’

  ‘How can I ask him to do that?’ Brianna protested. ‘He’s happy where he is.’

  ‘So, in this partnership of equals,’ Megan said slowly, ‘you’re going to be the one who has to give up everything, and return to London?’

  Return to London. Just the thought made Brianna’s heart plummet. Return to their modern flat, the anonymous streets, to feeling as though her life was on hold again.

  Except it wouldn’t be like that, she thought as her eyes drifted past Megan to little Harry’s incubator. If everything went well, she would have Harry, she would have a child, and that would make everything different. It would.

  ‘It will work this time,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll make it work.’

  ‘If you say so,’ Megan replied. ‘Just…’

  ‘Just what?’ Brianna asked, seeing her friend’s face grow suddenly serious.

  ‘Don’t tell Mr Brooke you don’t want the job, at least not yet. Connor will be here for another four or five weeks, so take that time to make sure you’ve both resolved everything between you.’

  ‘I will.’ Brianna smiled. ‘But you worry too much.’

  ‘Probably,’ Megan admitted, ‘but just be careful, OK?’

  There was nothing to be careful about, Brianna thought as she walked over to little Harry’s incubator, and smiled down at him. Everything was going to be fine. She just knew it, could feel it. Harry had come through the operation with flying colours, and already she could see he was brighter, more alert, and Connor had just been trying to protect her when he’d talked about the difficulties of adoption. The authorities were bound to see they were an ideal couple. They were both still young, were comfortably off, had been married for ten years, and she’d give up work, be a stay-at-home mum, so Harry would never have to come home from school to an empty house. And there were so many parks in London, it would almost be like being in the country. And her parents would love him, she knew they would, and—

  ‘Brianna.’

  ‘Are you trying to give me a seizure? ‘ she protested, whirling round to see Connor standing behind her. ‘Please don’t creep up on me like that, not when I’m miles away.’

  ‘I saw that.’

  Something was wrong, she realised. His face was carefully blank, his eyes even more so, and, when she smiled encouragingly up at him, he didn’t smile back.

  ‘Hey, whatever it is can’t be that bad,’ she declared, and saw him flinch.

  ‘There’s someone outside you need to see,’ he said.

  Even his voice sounded strange, as though it was being forced out of him.

  ‘Look, if it’s Vermin again,’ she began, ‘you can tell him—’

  ‘It’s not Vermin. It’s…’ He shook his head. ‘I think you should come.’

  ‘Connor, you know I don’t like surprises,’ she protested. ‘Can’t you just tell me who it is? ‘

  He didn’t answer. He simply walked over to the ward door and opened it, and she sighed.

  ‘This is crazy,’ she grumbled. ‘I’m really busy right now, so I’m warning you, whoever it is had better want me for a very good reason.’

  He still didn’t say anything and, when she first went out into the corridor, she was none the wiser. Rita was standing there with a face like stone. No big surprise there, she thought wryly. Jess was beaming broadly at her, but, then, Jess always had a sunny expression, and to Jess’s left stood a large, jolly-looking woman in her early forties whom Brianna didn’t recognise at all.

  Blankly, Brianna glanced back at Connor. Was this a deputation of some sort, a fundraising committee? Puzzled, she shifted her gaze back to the three women, and then she saw her. Standing awkwardly behind the jolly-looking woman, looking, oh, so shy and nervous, was a young girl. A young girl who couldn’t have been any more than sixteen. A young girl with corn-coloured hair and large grey eyes, and Brianna dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands until they hurt.

  ‘My name’s Marina Hallet,’ the jolly-looking lady declared, ‘and this is my daughter, Nicola. She’s the one who left the baby in the car park. She’s Colin’s mother.’

  ‘Colin?’ Brianna repeated, through lips grown suddenly dry.

  ‘That’s his name,’ the teenager said softly. ‘What I called him—after his father.’

  ‘And we know one another, don’t we, Marcia?’ Jess smiled, and Nicola Hallet looked shamefaced.

  ‘I’m sorry about lying to you that day in the hospital, Miss Carmichael—’

  ‘Her name is Mrs Corezzi now, Nicola,’ Rita declared irritably. ‘Can’t you at least try to get something right for once in your life?’

  Nicola looked crushed, and Jess leant towards the girl, a gentle smile on her face.

  ‘Nicola, please call me Jess. All my friends do,’ she added, and Brianna heard Rita give a very deliberate sniff.

  A sniff that everyone completely ignored.

  ‘I should have told you my real name,’ the teenager continued awkwardly. ‘I should have said my name was Nicola Hallet, but.’

  So Jess had been right, Brianna thought dully. The initial necklace that the girl she’d seen wearing had been either an N or an M. It was an N.

  ‘Look, why don’t we all go into the staffroom?’ Jess suggested. ‘It will be a lot more comfortable than standing out here in the corridor.’

  ‘I’d really like to see my grandson,’ Mrs Hallet said quickly, and Brianna saw Rita wince.

  ‘And you will,’ Jess declared, ‘but I’m sure Sister Flannigan must have lots of questions for you.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Brianna said automatically.

  But she didn’t want to ask any questions, she didn’t want to know anything at all about the teenager, or her family. She just wanted them to go away, and give her back her dream.

  ‘Aren’t you coming in with us?’ she said as the four women trooped into the staffroom, and Connor didn’t move at all.

  ‘I can’t,’ he said softly, ‘you know I can’t. Patient confidentiality, remember?’

  He was right, she knew he was, but she suddenly felt so very alone, and he must have sensed it because he clasped her hands tightly.

  ‘I’ll be right out here,’ he said. ‘I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay right out here, and wait for you in the corridor.’

  Which was where she wanted to be, she thought as she stiffened her back and walked into the staffroom in time to hear Mrs Hallet tell Jess her family owned a fruit-growing farm near Penhally.

  What difference did it make what kind of farm the Hallets owned? It wasn’t important, it didn’t matter, and before she could stop herself she rounded on Nicola.

  ‘Why did you leave your son—abandon him?’ she demanded.

  Her words were harsh, she knew they were as she saw the teenager flush and heard Jess suck in her breath, but she didn’t care. She wanted answers. Little Harry deserved them.

  ‘The silly girl was frightened to tell us she was expecting a baby,’ Mrs Hallet declared before her daughter could answer. ‘We didn’t even know she was going out with Colin Maddern from the garage, far less that she was pregnant. If only she’d told us. When I think of all those months when she must have been so frightened…’ Mrs Hallet shook her head. ‘I don’t know how she coped, I really don’t.’

  ‘And you
didn’t realise—didn’t notice your own daughter was pregnant?’ Brianna exclaimed, not pretending to hide her disbelief even though Jess was staring at her with clear dismay.

  ‘I know I should have done,’ Mrs Hallet admitted, ‘but what with the work on the farm, and my family of seven…You see, there’s always something happening, some crisis, and Nicola…She’s always been the quiet one, the one with her head stuck in a book, and…’ She smiled apologetically at her daughter. ‘She’s always been a little on the plump side so I didn’t notice any change in her.’

  ‘I wore lots of baggy clothes,’ Nicola murmured, ‘and like Mum said, there’s always so much going on in our house no one noticed I was getting bigger.’

  And she looked so young, so very young, Brianna thought, feeling a hard lump in her throat that no amount of swallowing seemed to move. ‘How old are you, Nicola?’ she asked.

  ‘Sixteen. Sixteen years and four months to be exact,’ the girl added hurriedly.

  As though those four months made any damn difference, Brianna thought. Nicola was still a mother, while she. She was never going to be one.

  ‘Why did you leave him in the car park?’ she exclaimed. ‘Nicola, he could have died there!’

  The teenager’s eyes filled with tears.

  ‘I was bringing him to the hospital because I knew there was something wrong with him,’ she replied. ‘When I tried to feed him he didn’t seem to know what to do, and his breathing wasn’t right, but the first person I saw was Grandma, and I knew she’d have a go at Mum, say it was all her fault that I’d got pregnant at fifteen. But it wasn’t Mum’s fault. Colin and I. We never intended to make love—we were going to wait—but.’

  ‘These things just happen,’ Jess said, shooting Brianna a puzzled glance, and Nicola nodded and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

  ‘Colin…he said we’d get married if I found out I was pregnant, and I know we would have, because he loved me, and I loved him, but then…’ The tears in the teenager’s eyes began to spill over. ‘He was killed, and he never knew. He never knew he had a son.’

  And I think I knew him, Brianna thought dully as Jess leant forward and pressed a handkerchief into the teenager’s hand, and she remembered the day she’d had trouble with her car months ago, and she’d stopped at the garage in St Piran, and the young mechanic there had mended it for her.

  ‘Your Colin…He had black hair, and a lovely smile, didn’t he?’ she said, trying to keep her voice even but knowing she was failing miserably.

  ‘You knew him?’ Nicola said eagerly.

  ‘I met him once,’ Brianna replied. ‘And I remember his smile.’

  And how I’d thought that my Harry might have looked just like the young mechanic, if he’d lived and grown up.

  ‘Why didn’t you come back later, after your grandmother had gone?’ Jess asked, and Nicola bit her lip.

  ‘I meant to—I intended to,’ she said, ‘but Colin’s breathing seemed to be getting worse, and then I saw you. I remembered how kind you were before, and I know I should have told you I was pregnant, but I was scared you’d tell Grandma, and she’d make me get an abortion, and I didn’t want to have an abortion.’

  ‘No one would have made you have an abortion,’ Nicola’s mother declared, shooting Rita a look that defied her to argue. ‘You loved this boy, and he loved you, and your father and I would have helped.’

  ‘But why didn’t you just give the baby to Jess?’ Brianna protested. ‘Why leave it where it might not be found for hours?’

  ‘I guess I panicked,’ Nicola replied. ‘I recognised the car—I’d seen Mrs Corezzi—Jess—out in it, and I thought it was hers, that she was leaving the hospital so she’d be sure to find my son. I waited,’ she added quickly. ‘I didn’t just go. I waited until you picked him up, so I knew he was safe.’

  ‘And the first we knew of any of this was when she broke down in tears over that photograph in the paper,’ Mrs Hallet said. ‘That was when the whole story came out.’

  ‘Can I see him?’ Nicola asked. ‘Can I see my son?’

  ‘I’d like to see him, too,’ Mrs Hallet declared, ‘and I’m sure his great-grandmother would just love to see the newest addition to our family, wouldn’t you, Rita? ‘

  The ward clerk looked as though she would have preferred to have been force-fed poison, but she managed a tight-lipped nod.

  ‘Of course you can see him,’ Jess declared, ‘but I have to warn you that you might find the sight of him a bit upsetting. He’s been very ill, you see,’ she added as Nicola looked from her to Brianna in panic. ‘He had to have an operation yesterday, and though he’s come through that well, he has a lot of tubes and wires attached to him to help him breathe.’

  ‘You mean, he might…he could…die?’ Nicola said, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

  ‘No, he won’t die,’ Brianna said with difficulty. ‘The tubes and wires are only temporary, a precaution.’

  ‘And the important thing to remember is, under all the tubes and wires, he’s still your son,’ Jess said gently. ‘He’s still your baby.’

  Your baby.

  Not my baby, Brianna thought as Jess led the way out of the staffroom, and she followed slowly. He was Nicola Hallet’s baby, and she was happy about that—of course she was—because a baby should always be with its mother. It was the natural order of things, it was what was right.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Connor said the moment he saw her, his eyes worried, his face drawn.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she replied. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘Brianna—’

  She swept past him into the ward, her head held high, but, as she stood to one side of the incubator, and saw Mrs Hallet beam with clear pleasure at her grandson, and Nicola gaze down at him with such love in her eyes, she felt her heart twist inside her. Connor’s eyes were fixed on her, she knew they were, but she couldn’t meet his gaze, knew she would see sympathy there, and she didn’t want to see sympathy, but when the baby stretched up one of his tiny hands towards his mother’s face, she couldn’t bear it. She just couldn’t bear to be there, witnessing this reunion, and quietly she slipped out of the ward, needing to get away, to go anywhere, just so long as it was away.

  ‘Brianna, wait!’

  Connor had come after her, and she didn’t want to see him, or hear his unease.

  ‘You’ll have to excuse me,’ she said, turning her back on him, fast. ‘I have things to do, paperwork—forms—to fill in.’

  Quickly, she began to walk away from him, but he caught her by the elbow and steered her deliberately into the nurse unit manager’s office.

  ‘Brianna, sweetheart, you don’t have to be brave,’ he said, and she could see the anxiety in his eyes for her. ‘I know how hard this must be for you.’

  ‘It’s not hard at all,’ she said brightly. ‘I’m fine, perfectly fine. It’s great that Harry—Colin’s—mother has come forward for him. Absolutely great.’

  ‘She seems a very sweet girl,’ he said carefully.

  ‘And I’m sure she’ll look after him perfectly well even though she’s just sixteen,’ she declared, picking up a piece of paper from his desk, then putting it down again, ‘and it’s not little Harry…’ She bit her lip. ‘Colin’s fault he’ll have the great-grandmother from hell.’

  ‘I think we can be sure Nicola’s mother will tell Rita to back off in no uncertain terms.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, of course she will, but…’ She picked up the sheet of paper again. ‘Connor, how can we be sure this girl is his mother? I mean, what proof do we have?’

  ‘Jess recognised her as the girl who came in that day.’

  ‘But that doesn’t prove anything, does it? ‘ she argued back. ‘Just because she’s the girl Jess saw doesn’t mean—’

  ‘Brianna, she’s his mother, you know she is,’ he interrupted gently, ‘and, though she’s very young, I think she has a sensible head on her shoulders, and her mother and father will help her, make sure she do
es right by the little boy.’

  ‘Yes, of course they will,’ she murmured. ‘And Mrs Hallet looked nice. Don’t you think she looked nice? ‘ she added, all too aware she was talking too much, but if she stopped.if she stopped. ‘And the Hallets have a farm, so Colin will have all those wonderful places to play in, just as I did when I was a child, and I’ll see him occasionally, won’t I—around and about in Penhally. Not often, of course, but I might see him sometimes—’

  ‘Oh, Bree—’

  ‘And it won’t matter that he won’t remember me,’ she said on a sob, ‘because that’s as it should be. He’ll have his real mother, and lots of aunts and uncles, and probably grandparents—’

  ‘Bree, I’m so sorry,’ Connor said, his heart breaking for her, ‘so very, very sorry. I know you wanted him, had grown to care for him.’

  ‘But I’m not his mother, am I? ‘ she said, as tears began to roll down her cheeks. ‘And a baby.a baby should always be with his mother. Except he did look so much.so very much like Harry, and now.and now…’

  And Connor reached for her, and she stepped into his arms, and he held her tight, and didn’t tell her not to cry, knew better now, and thanked God that the tears she wept into his shoulder weren’t like the tears she’d shed for their own Harry. That these were tears of regret, tears for what could never be, what he suspected she’d always known, deep down, could never be, and yet had still hoped.

  ‘I’m OK now,’ she hiccupped when her tears were finally spent.

  ‘You’re sure?’ he said anxiously, drying her face with his fingertips, scanning her eyes with concern.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, beginning to nod, then shook her head. ‘No, I’m not, but I will be.’

  ‘Honestly?’ he said, and she manufactured a smile.

  ‘Honestly.’

  ‘I think we should go home,’ he said, and she closed her eyes.

  ‘I can’t—I have another two hours of my shift to work.’

  ‘I’ll square it with Megan—she’ll understand.’