A Million Dreams

by Dani Atkins

  Who knows how long we might have stood there, lost in memories of the past as the strains of ‘Silent Night’ filled the terminal, if my father hadn’t come up and laid a hand on our shoulders. ‘You’re so busy looking at other people’s grandchildren, you’re going to make us late for the flight to see our own,’ he warned. There was actually very little danger of that happening, as we were at the airport at least two hours earlier than we needed to be, but that suited my plans for the day just as much as it did theirs.

  Both of them were worried about me, which perhaps was to be expected as this would be the first Christmas I’d be spending apart from them since Tim died.

  ‘Come with us,’ my mother had urged impulsively after dinner last night. They were staying overnight with me, and I was going to drop them at the airport before going to work in the morning. Except that I actually had no intention of going to work; something they obviously knew nothing about.

  ‘It’s not too late to change your mind,’ my mother had said persuasively, and for just a moment I wondered if she was referring to what I was intending to do while she and my father took to the skies for the long journey to Australia.

  ‘I’ve only just come back from a three-week holiday visiting Karen,’ I reminded her, as I bent to load our plates into the dishwasher. ‘And I have a business to run, remember?’

  ‘Couldn’t your assistant look after it again? You said she did a fine job last time. And isn’t it all just poinsettias and holly wreaths at this time of year?’

  I smiled wryly at my mother’s oversimplification of my business model.

  ‘She did do a fine job.’ And she will do so again, I added silently, finding it surprisingly tricky to straddle the precarious line between the truth and the lies. ‘But I need to be here myself – there are some things that only I can do,’ I said, echoing the words Izzy had used at the end of October when she’d come to tell me about Noah’s condition.

  ‘You could close the shop and join us,’ said Mum, unable to resist one last try.

  My dad had looked up from a guidebook of Australia, which he was studying with the intensity of a student cramming for an exam. ‘If it’s just a question of the money, Bethie, then your mum and I are happy to buy you a plane ticket.’

  Unexpected tears had pricked at my eyes and blurred my vision, but I had somehow managed to hold myself together and smile back at the two people who meant the world to me.

  ‘It’s not only that, Dad. I really do have lots planned for the next few weeks, and I can’t just disappear off to the other side of the world and let people down.’ I softened my refusal with a smile that held them both in its warmth. ‘But I love you both for offering.’

  ‘It’s such a shame that we won’t be together for the holidays,’ my mother had commented that morning, while I surreptitiously tried to pour my cup of untouched tea down the sink without anyone noticing.

  ‘Christmas is all about family,’ she said, as though I might still be persuaded to change my mind and join them.

  ‘You sound like a Hallmark card, Mum,’ I teased, stepping away from the sink to envelop her in a huge hug. ‘You don’t have to worry about me, you know,’ I said, giving her an extra tight squeeze. ‘I’m a big girl now.’

  She wiped her eyes carefully, mindful not to smudge the make-up she had still applied, despite the early start. ‘It’s just that you’ve had such a difficult year, Beth. What with the clinic, and the lawyers…’ She was getting dangerously close to an area I really didn’t want her venturing into.

  ‘Well, if we don’t get a move on, we won’t have to worry about me being alone for Christmas, because you’re going to miss your flight.’ That was never even a remote possibility, but it got me off the hook and them into the car. We actually reached the airport in record time, which allowed me to come into the terminal to see them off. Despite my professed independence, I was suddenly reluctant to see them leave. I had a strong feeling that my mum wouldn’t be the only one in tears when they disappeared through the gate at Security.

  After a brief tussle with my dad at the check-in desk, which happily I won, I swung the heavy cases, packed to the brim with Christmas presents, onto the conveyor belt. It would be the last time in months I’d be able to lift anything that heavy, and it felt good to feel the pull and strain on my muscles.

  ‘Carry on like that and you’ll end up in hospital,’ chided my father, totally oblivious that his warning was actually an uncannily accurate prediction. That was exactly where I was going to be in three hours’ time.

  ‘I’m used to carrying heavy things for the shop,’ I assured him as I dropped a kiss on his softly wrinkled cheek. ‘And besides, I’m as strong as an ox.’

  Fortunately, that was pretty much what the doctors who’d been running tests on me for the last couple of months had also said. I’d passed every single one of them with flying colours, even the psychological ones, which had worried me far more than the physical examinations. Everything was set. Everything was in place. Noah had been admitted to hospital the day before, and I was going straight there as soon as I left the airport.

  37

  Izzy

  It was the day I hoped would never come. It was the day that couldn’t come soon enough. I was so conflicted that I couldn’t even begin to untangle my mixed emotions. The date in December had been ringed in red on the kitchen calendar for weeks. Beside it hung Noah’s advent calendar, and with every window he excitedly opened each morning, the day of the operation crept closer. And now it was finally here.

  I stood at Noah’s bedroom doorway, watching him carefully choose which of his toys to add to the case I’d packed for the hospital. ‘If I’m not back home by Christmas, how will Santa know where to find me?’ he asked worriedly. Of all the concerns racing wildly through my head, that particular one hadn’t been high up on my list.

  ‘He’ll know, champ. He’s clever like that,’ assured Pete, coming up behind me, laying a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it gently.

  Last week we’d visited Father Christmas in a local department store grotto and Noah had been surprisingly secretive about sharing what he wanted for Christmas. I only hoped that whatever he’d asked for was in one of the brightly wrapped parcels hidden away at the back of my wardrobe.

  ‘Goodbye bedroom,’ Noah said sadly as I shut the door of his room behind us.

  ‘You’ll be back home before you know it,’ I said with a false cheeriness that even an eight-year-old was able to see through.

  ‘Are you absolutely sure we’re not allowed to bring Marvel to the hospital with us?’ Noah was kneeling on the floor beside the dog, his thin arms wound around the bony canine in an enormous hug, which surprisingly the dog seemed quite happy to tolerate.

  ‘It’s against the rules, sweetheart. Dogs have a lot of germs,’ I explained.

  ‘Not my dog,’ declared Noah. He drew his face so close to his pet that they were practically eyeball to eyeball as he whispered, ‘Be a good boy. Do what Mummy and Daddy tell you, so they won’t send you back to the dogs’ home.’

  ‘He’s going to be right here waiting for you when you get back, son,’ promised Pete, who’d joined us in the kitchen, car keys in hand. He cleared his throat noisily, yet his voice still sounded oddly thick as he added, ‘Come on, big man. It’s time to go.’

  *

  They’d let us stay with Noah until the anaesthetic had been given. ‘Your mum can hold your hand until you get sleepy,’ the anaesthetist had said kindly. Noah reached out to me, his dark eyes starting to grow fearful, and I wound my fingers through his as I’d done a thousand times before, from his very first steps to the last road we’d crossed together. But this was a journey he’d have to take without me, and eight suddenly seemed far too young to go anywhere alone.

  Without Pete beside me, I’d have been a mess. But he was amazing – cracking jokes and making Noah laugh in the way that only he could. I watched as the only man I’d ever loved clowned around, being strong for Noah
and for me in the only way he knew how, and felt something subtly shift within me.

  The anaesthetist stepped closer to the bed and I forced a smile on my face, because it was important to make that the last thing Noah saw as he fell asleep.

  ‘Do you want to know a secret, Mummy?’ Noah whispered.

  ‘Always.’

  His voice dropped conspiratorially. ‘I asked Santa if I could have a new kidney for Christmas.’

  Above their surgical masks, I saw the eyes of the medical team soften at Noah’s confession.

  ‘Well, maybe Santa helped,’ I said gently as I stroked back a thick lock of dark hair from Noah’s forehead. ‘But do you remember Daddy and me telling you about a kind stranger who has decided to help you get better by giving you one of their kidneys?’

  ‘I remember,’ Noah said, his eyelids already drooping sleepily as the drug the anaesthetist had administered began to take effect. ‘Do you think Santa asked an angel to give me a kidney?’

  I thought of the woman who Noah had yet to meet, who at that very moment was in another operating theatre not far away. A woman who’d already lost so much, and yet when asked to give more hadn’t hesitated for a second.

  ‘Do you know what, I think he did,’ I replied, bending down and leaving one last kiss on my child’s cheek.

  38

  Beth

  ‘I’m an idiot.’ The voice was distant, as if it was coming from the end of a very long tunnel. ‘Probably the world’s biggest idiot.’

  I struggled to open my eyes, which felt as if someone might possibly have sealed with superglue. With an enormous effort, I forced them apart and then immediately snapped them shut against the glaring brilliance of a room that seemed full of white.

  The voice was still talking, pulling me awake because I recognised those deep tones, even though it had been quite a while since I’d last heard them.

  ‘Liam?’ My voice was hoarse; its frog-like croak felt like a graze running the length of my throat. Once again I forced my eyes to open and this time there was a figure, blurry but recognisable, which swam into focus.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘You’re still really drowsy from the anaesthetic.’

  Anaesthetic? The word danced in my head, dissolving out of reach every time I tried to grab hold of it. Had he had one, or had I?

  ‘Ah, she’s starting to wake up properly now, is she?’ asked a female voice from somewhere unseen. ‘I’ll get her some fresh water.’

  I twisted towards the sound of the retreating footsteps and immediately wished I hadn’t as a sharp stab of discomfort ran across my lower stomach. It brought me back to reality quicker than a douse of icy water.

  ‘Noah?’ I asked urgently, all drowsiness gone from my voice. ‘Has he had his operation? Did it work?’

  ‘He’s still in surgery. I’ve been checking for updates every twenty minutes or so,’ Liam continued with a wry smile. ‘The nursing staff might possibly hate me.’

  That seemed highly unlikely, I thought, as I eased myself back against the stiff hospital pillows, moving slowly so I wouldn’t aggravate the small incisions the surgeon had made.

  ‘Liam, why are you here?’

  His expression was hard to read. ‘Because you’ve had an operation to donate a kidney.’

  I shook my head slowly but carefully. ‘No. That’s why I’m here. What I want to know is why you are.’

  There was a set to his jaw that I don’t think I had ever noticed before. He may, or may not, have been incredibly angry. ‘I think a far more interesting question is: why am I the only person here? Where are your family? Your friends?’ I flinched under his steely grey stare. ‘You’re very close to your parents, and your sister. Why aren’t they here at your bedside instead of someone who—’

  ‘—who has studiously ignored me for the last four months?’ I interrupted. The effort to summon up a cutting retort sapped me of strength, but it was so worth it.

  ‘You’re right. I deserved that,’ Liam said, his head bowing, but not before I saw the regret in his eyes. ‘Like I said, I’ve been an idiot. I acted like a total dick.’

  The vulgarism almost made me smile, but the hurt still ran as deep as cuts from a scalpel.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone what you were doing?’ Liam asked, holding up his hand to silence whatever lie I was about to offer. ‘And don’t pretend that you have, because I’m just not buying it.’

  ‘There was no need to tell anyone before the operation.’

  ‘Because you didn’t want them talking you out of donating?’

  I shook my head with unexpected emphasis. ‘That would never have happened.’ A flash fire of admiration burned brightly in his eyes. ‘Right now, my parents are about to land in Sydney. It’s their first trip in years to visit my sister and their grandchildren. The visit was planned months ago, long before I knew this was going to happen, and I didn’t want them to cancel it.’

  I could see Liam weighing up my words, getting ready with a counter argument. It’s hard to sound authoritative when you’re lying in a hospital bed, looking up at a six-foot-plus man towering above you, but I gave it my best shot. ‘This has nothing to do with anyone except Izzy, Pete and me.’

  The sound of the door opening startled us both and gave me a welcome reprieve as a nurse entered the room and began rearranging the items on the bedside locker before placing a fresh jug of water on it.

  ‘Don’t let your wife have more than just a few small sips,’ she advised solemnly.

  I waited for Liam to correct her, my eyebrows rising incredulously with every passing second that he remained silent. As soon as she left the room, I challenged him. ‘Why does that nurse think you’re my husband?’

  Liam’s tone was deceptively neutral. ‘They may have made that assumption when I got here several hours ago, and I might have chosen not to correct them. I don’t suppose they’d have let me in if I had.’ His eyes darkened, and I guessed what was coming next. ‘I imagine their mistake might have something to do with the fact that Tim is listed as your next of kin on the hospital paperwork.’ It was almost impossible to meet his steady gaze without flushing. ‘It would have been tricky for them to reach him if anything had gone wrong, don’t you think?’ There it was again, that brief flash of anger. I was too tired and too sore to deal with it right now.

  ‘Well, thankfully nothing did go wrong. And I don’t understand why you’re so bothered about it, anyway.’

  Liam moved so swiftly I never even saw him; one minute he was on the other side of the room, and the next he was right beside me, his hand gripping mine. ‘What if something had happened to you? How do you think the people who love and care about you would have felt if that was the first they’d known about what you were doing?’

  ‘All the people who love and care about me are currently in a different hemisphere, so it’s not as if they could have got here in a hurry anyway.’

  ‘Not all of them are on the other side of the world.’

  The statement was so big, so all-encompassing, it filled the entire room, making it suddenly much harder to breathe normally. I had no response. None. Fortunately, Liam didn’t seem to expect one.

  ‘I assume you put Tim’s name down because you were afraid they wouldn’t let you go through with the operation without someone at home to look after you?’

  ‘Something like that,’ I mumbled, feeling suddenly as though I was being cross-examined by someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Liam should definitely have specialised as a barrister, he clearly had a natural talent for it.

  ‘Was it Natalie who told you I was here?’ It wasn’t a Sherlock Holmes worthy deduction, because aside from Izzy and Pete Vaughan, she was the only person who knew. So much for her sworn promise not to tell anyone.

  Liam must have read my thoughts. ‘Don’t blame her for telling me. She held out for a long time. And solicitors are pretty good at getting at the truth.’ He looked away for a moment, not allowing me to see the expression i
n his eyes. ‘We’re just not that great at accepting home truths.’ I wondered if somewhere in that statement was a veiled apology for the way he’d reacted when I’d unthinkingly come between him and his late wife’s memory.

  Liam reached for the newly replenished water jug and poured out a measure in a plastic cup. He held it out for me, considerately sliding one hand beneath my neck for support as he lifted the beaker to my lips. Swallowing was difficult, but that might have had nothing at all to do with my recent surgery.

  ‘Enough?’

  I nodded and he gently lowered my head back down onto the starchy pillowcase. I could see he was really trying to make amends, and wondered how long it would take before I forgave him for ghosting me the way he had. He set the drink down on the locker, and then looked through the plastic jug at the framed photograph I’d positioned on the bedside unit. Very carefully, Liam picked up the picture of Tim and brought it to the front, turning it so that I could see my late husband’s smiling face whenever I wanted. Perhaps that was the moment when I realised Liam was already forgiven.

  *

  On his third foray for information, Liam returned to the room with a smile. He’d been gone much longer this time, and I was beginning to worry that there had been news…and that it was bad.

  ‘Noah’s out of surgery, and already awake. They’re going to be transferring him to the paediatric ICU very soon. I managed to catch Pete Vaughan for a few moments in the corridor.’ Liam’s face softened at the memory. ‘He was pretty emotional, actually.’