Someone To Save you

by Paul Pilkington

  ‘So she’s probably going to be alright?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘We can never say that.’

  The brutal honesty seemed to land an almost physical blow on her fragile frame. ‘Please don’t let her die.’

  Sam watched Sarah Jackson crumple before him, and it took all of his inner strength not to fold with her.

  The call came through ten minutes later from the surgical team.

  ‘They’re ready. Professor Khan requests your presence in theatre.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Sam replaced the handset and moved towards the door. But as he swung it open, Ed Stansfield was on the other side, his fist raised to knock.

  ‘Hello, Sam,’ he said, startled. ‘I wonder if I can have a quick word?’

  ‘It’ll have to wait,’ he replied, ‘I’ve got to get straight to theatre.’

  ‘I know. That’s partly why I’m here. Just one second? It’s really important.’

  Sam sucked on his top lip, not really wanting to spare a moment. ‘Okay, one second.’

  They backed into the room and Ed Stansfield didn’t waste any time. ‘I wasn’t sure whether to tell you now, or after the operation, but I’ve decided you should know the full facts before you go in there.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘The hospital has withdrawn its allegations against you,’ he said. ‘You’ll be notified officially tomorrow. The Board are going to offer a full and unreserved apology and the incident will not be kept on your record. Carla wants to see you personally to express her regret at what happened.’

  The news was fantastic, but puzzling. ‘Why are they so sure now? I mean, they obviously weren’t convinced with what you or I had to say.’

  ‘Because someone has confessed to setting you up,’ he replied.

  ‘What? Who?’

  ‘Miles Henderson.’

  ‘Miles? What, they caught him with drugs?’

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘He came forward and confessed. He said that he’d planted the drugs in your locker and then called security.’

  Sam thought it over. Even though Miles had always been a name in the frame, the news still came as a great shock, to think one of his colleagues could do such a thing. ‘Did he say why?’

  ‘Not yet, no – but it’s fair to assume that he saw it as a way of getting the consultant post. With you discredited, he was the clear favourite.’

  Sam shook his head in disbelief. Miles had never been the most ethical of characters, and he was desperate for the job, just as he was, but to plunge to those subterranean depths, to do such a thing to a colleague and fellow clinician.

  ‘I thought it might put your mind at rest, before the operation,’ Ed said, watching Sam carefully as he took the news in.

  ‘No, it has, thanks,’ Sam trailed off, still lost in his thoughts. In truth, it had done the exact opposite.

  44

  Sam watched Sarah Jackson as she slept in what looked like the most awkward position imaginable. Her legs were tucked underneath her body, which was wedged across two plastic chairs. Her head lolled back like a broken puppet and her mouth was set open. Sam looked across at Louisa, who was just waking up, holding her neck and grimacing. She threw him a glance that was somewhere between a mix of bewilderment and hope.

  Sam reached for Sarah, touching her lightly on the shoulder. This conversation would transform her life forever. He wondered whether she was dreaming of Sophie - dreaming of that knockdown smile as she held her daughter in her arms.

  ‘Sarah.’

  She woke slowly at first. But then realisation dawned and her eyes snapped open. She almost scrambled upright in what could only be described as blind panic. ‘Sophie is she okay, is she...’

  Sam smiled. ‘It went really well.’

  The news didn’t seem to register at first. It was as if she was waiting for some cruel punch line.

  It went really well. But...’

  When none came, her face exploded with joy and she leapt up, embracing Sam and squeezing tightly, burying her head in his shoulder. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

  Sam smiled across at Louisa. ‘It’s my pleasure.’

  ‘My little Sophie, she’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay...’ Suddenly Sarah began sobbing and she pulled back. ‘She’s really going to be okay? She’s going to be fine?’

  Sam nodded. ‘It’s early days,’ he said, not wishing for one moment to puncture her joy but mindful that it was early days. The first few hours after an operation, especially one of such magnitude, were fraught with dangers – internal bleeding, rejection of the heart by her body, a reaction to the drugs used to suppress her immune system’s response, a post-operative infection. The list went on.

  ‘But you think she’ll be alright?’ Sarah’s tears had stopped, but there was a new cautiousness.

  ‘I’m as sure as I can be that Sophie will be okay,’ he comforted. ‘The operation went better than I could have hoped.’

  Indeed, during the eight hour procedure, everything had worked like a dream. The team had performed brilliantly. Professor Khan had directed with confidence and skill, giving Sam a leading role while at the same time being a rock for everyone in the theatre. Sophie had remained strong throughout. There hadn’t been one moment when he’d feared that it wouldn’t work out.

  It was amazing really.

  Sarah’s smile returned. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

  ‘Like I said, it’s my pleasure. Would you like to see Sophie?’

  Her face lit up with joy. ‘I can see her now?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sam smiled. ‘She’s not awake yet, but she’s welcoming visitors.’

  Sam and Louisa stood back as Sarah Jackson approached her daughter, who was sleeping in a private room in the Intensive Care Unit. She looked back at them for confirmation that it was okay to get closer, and Sam nodded. They watched as Sarah cupped Sophie’s head with her palm, and gently brushed away stray strands of blonde hair from her forehead.

  ‘She looks so well,’ she said, turning to them.

  Sam nodded. It might have only been a matter of minutes since the operation, but you could already see the difference in Sophie. Her skin was glowing, her body radiating the new chance of life that the donor heart had gifted.

  Sophie turned back to admire her daughter. ‘I’m so happy you’re okay,’ she said. ‘You’ll never know how happy.’

  Louisa stole a glance at Sam, smiled and squeezed his arm. ‘Well done,’ she whispered. ‘Miracle man.’

  Sam returned with a tight smile. Although this was a happy occasion, outside of this there was nothing to smile about. Despite his best efforts, he had been unable to stop himself thinking about Anna during the operation. He leant in close to Louisa’s ear. ‘Have you heard from Marcus?’

  Louisa shook her head. ‘I’ve called a few times, but he’s not picking up.’

  ‘We need to find him, Louisa.’

  ‘I know.’

  Just then the doors to the room opened and Nurse Hennessey entered. ‘I’ve got a visitor for Sophie,’ she said, her eyes bright and excited. ‘Would you like me to bring him in?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Sam replied, as realisation hit Louisa about who the visitor was.

  ‘Tom?’ she mouthed to Sam, as Nurse Hennessey left.

  Sam nodded.

  Sarah had seemed oblivious what was happening, so engrossed was she in her daughter. Even as Tom entered the room, almost cowering behind Nurse Hennessey, she didn’t notice his presence. Tom Jackson looked like a man who had been living on the streets. His hair was all over the place, his face bearded. His blue eyes seemed shrunk against his skin which was tanned with an accumulation of London dirt.

  Suddenly Sarah did sense something, and snapped out of her worship. Her eyes widened with amazement and she broke into a wide smile. ‘Tom!’

  ‘I’m so sorry for leaving you,’ he said, his body poised for surrender against the expected oncoming onslaught of emotion. ‘I’m really sorry.’

&n
bsp; But there was no anger, no recriminations. And instead it was Sarah who surrendered to him, throwing herself into his arms. They hugged tightly for several seconds. Sam thought of Anna and how they had embraced in the same way, just days earlier, three people joined as one. What he wouldn’t do to have that again.

  ‘It’s okay, Tom, really,’ Sarah said, cupping his face and looking deeply into his eyes. ‘Everything’s going to be fine now, everything’s going to be okay.’

  They embraced again. Then Tom, still holding his wife, looked over at Sam. ‘Thank you Sam, thank you so much.’

  Sam acknowledged the appreciation. ‘Go and speak with your daughter.’

  As Sarah and Tom moved towards Sophie, Sam gestured to Louisa that it was time for them to leave. They moved out of the room, standing just outside the door.

  ‘Did you have something to do with this?’ Louisa asked, nodding through to the window to where Sarah and Tom were now cooing over their daughter.

  ‘I called him straight after coming out of theatre and left a message,’ Sam said. ‘Told him to get the hell down here and be with his wife and daughter.’

  ‘Good work,’ she said, watching the proud parents. ‘They look really happy.’ She turned back to Sam. ‘How are you feeling? I mean, physically? You must be exhausted.’

  ‘Not too bad,’ Sam replied, ‘I can feel the tiredness creeping up on me, but I’ll be okay after a few strong coffees.’

  Louisa frowned. ‘You’re not going back home to sleep?’

  ‘I’ve got to keep looking for Anna. I thought I might go over to see Victoria Friedman.’

  ‘But you’ve been awake all night.’

  ‘I know,’ Sam conceded. ‘And if I really flag later in the day, then I’ll have no choice, but for the moment I don’t want to waste any time.’

  ‘I wish I could come with you.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Sam replied. ‘You’ve got a job to do. Just let me know as soon as Marcus gets in touch.’

  ‘I will,’ she promised. ‘Sam, I really am sorry, you know, about not telling you about Marcus.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Sam said. ‘Let’s just focus on getting Anna back.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  Sam and Louisa said their goodbyes. It was now just after eight am. Sam decided he would head back home, change and shower, then travel over to speak again with Victoria Friedman. It was still the only avenue of investigation he had. But before he could leave, he got a message from Professor Khan requesting his presence in his office.

  Sam knocked and entered. The Professor was sat at his desk, and beckoned Sam over. ‘Sam, take a seat.’

  Sam did as requested, even though sitting down only served to remind him how tired he was really feeling.

  ‘I wanted to congratulate you before you left,’ he said. ‘You did a fantastic job in there. Showed everyone exactly why your reputation is so high.’

  ‘Thanks. But I was just assisting.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ he scoffed. ‘I was just watching. You were the lead, Sam. If I hadn’t been in the theatre I don’t think anyone would have noticed.’

  Sam didn’t believe that for one moment, but you didn’t challenge Professor Khan, especially to flatter him.

  ‘I know you care for the child,’ he continued. ‘You were happy with the way things went?’ He raised a single bushy, inquisitive eyebrow and leant back in his chair, his fingers resting against the desk.

  ‘Very happy,’ Sam replied. ‘I don’t think it could have gone better.’

  ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t agree more. And the parents; how are they?’

  ‘They’re good.’

  ‘Excellent, that’s excellent.’ He seemed distracted, looking down at his palms as he trailed a finger along the lines. He chuckled somewhat embarrassed when he realised what he was doing. ‘My grandmother used to read our palms when we were children,’ he explained, smiling at the memory. ‘I used to think it was all nonsense, but I didn’t dare tell her so. When I was eight years old she told me I was going to be a famous doctor in England. Can you believe that?’

  Sam smiled.

  The Professor looked back down again at his palms. ‘Ever since I’ve wondered whether my grandmother had really seen the future, or whether what she said had merely influenced me to want to become that person she had seen - a self-fulfilling prophecy that an impoverished boy from the remotest part of rural India could become a doctor and come to London.’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘No, I suppose it doesn’t,’ he replied. ‘Whatever way, her prediction came true.’ He smiled. ‘And now when I look at my palms, I too can see into the future.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  He held up his palms. ‘I look at these palms, Sam, and I see an aging man.’ He smiled with regret. ‘I see that my future does not lie here for much longer.’

  ‘You’re not that old.’

  ‘You’d be surprised. I’m not saying it will be this year, or even next or the year after. But soon. And when I leave, I want to be sure that the place is in the best of hands. Your hands, Sam.’

  His proclamation took Sam by surprise. ‘Mine?’

  ‘Of course,’ he replied. ‘Nothing would make me happier.’

  Hearing those words from a surgeon as great as Professor Adil Khan was more than Sam could have ever dreamt of. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘You don’t need to say anything,’ he said. ‘Just make sure that you perform well at the interview.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘On the basis of today’s exploits that will most definitely be good enough.’

  Sam paused, wondering whether to raise the issue of Miles’ suspension. He decided there would never be a great time, so it might as well be now. ‘I heard about Miles.’

  ‘Yes, Miles,’ he replied, pursing his lips. ‘Miles was misguided. He’s a skilled surgeon, but it’s not enough. He knew that in the end, and that’s why he did what he did. Sam, I hope that you still want to be here, after what has happened. I know you may well feel aggrieved with the suspension, but the hospital had to follow due process.’

  ‘I understand. And I don’t want to move. I love it here.’

  ‘Good. I was worried we might lose you.’

  ‘As long as you want me, I’m here.’

  ‘Very good news, very good news indeed.’ He smiled at Sam for a couple of seconds, his satisfaction evident. ‘So,’ he continued, ‘how is your good lady wife?’

  Sam paused. ‘She’s good,’ he lied, biting down hard on his emotion, ‘very good.’

  For a second Sam almost told him everything. But the wall had quickly come back up – he couldn’t risk telling any more people about what was happening. He needed to remain in control of the situation as much as possible, even though it was increasingly clear that he didn’t know what the hell to do.

  ‘She’s away at the moment,’ he added, ‘but I can’t wait to get her back.’

  45

  Sam got back to his empty house, checked the answer machine, then headed straight for the bathroom and jumped in the shower. He turned the temperature right down to cold and gasped as a jet of icy water blasted onto his body, shocking his system into life. It was a necessary wake-up call. On the tube home he had struggled to stay awake against the now relentless advance of tiredness. It threatened to overwhelm him, but he planned to fight it all the way.

  The cold did seem to re-energise him and by the time he got out, he now felt ready for the confrontation with Victoria Friedman and whatever else lay ahead in the day. He dressed in fresh clothes and checked his emails. Again, there was nothing from the person who had taken Anna. After all that contact, now it was like the lines had been cut for good.

  Sam stared at the computer screen.

  What the hell did this person want?

  He tried Marcus’s mobile and then his home phone. Nothing. Moving into the kitchen he paused by the breakfast bar and could almost see Anna there in her p
yjamas, cheerfully snapping off an edge of toast. Closing his eyes, he heard her voice.

  We’re having a baby.

  Sam’s eyes were still closed when the doorbell rang, and at first he wondered whether he’d imagined it. But by the time Sam emerged into the hallway it rang again.

  It was Paul Cullen. Looking tired, he smiled, his hands in his coat pockets. ‘Sam, can I come in?’

  Sam stood aside and beckoned him inside. He knew where he was going, and headed straight for the living room. ‘May I?’ he said, gesturing at the sofa.

  ‘Of course.’ Sam replied, taking the seat opposite. Cullen looked serious. ‘Has something happened?’

  ‘A few things,’ he revealed. ‘We got the results back from the audio message.’

  ‘Right...’

  ‘And the guys in the analysis labs have confirmed that, as far as they can detect, it is genuine.’

  ‘So they agree it’s a recording of the incident?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ he replied. ‘They can’t be sure when the recording was made. But they concluded that the sounds on the file did match both your statement of what you said happened, the statement from the train driver, and also the investigations that took place at the scene.’

  ‘So it’s not just someone playing a sick joke.’

  ‘Like I said, they’re as convinced as they can be that this is an accurate audio recording of the event.’

  ‘And what do you think?’ Sam asked.

  Cullen laughed. ‘What do I think?’ He ran his tongue along the underside of his top lip, as he contemplated the question. ‘When you first played me this, I thought it was a joke - a sick joke, yes, but a joke nonetheless. Now I’m certain that it’s for real.’

  The happiness that Sam felt on hearing that Cullen believed him was tempered by the thought that he couldn’t tell him about what had happened to Anna. Not without fear of reprisals. ‘So what does it mean?’

  ‘Well,’ he began, looking around the room as if he was searching for the right answer among Sam’s possessions, before returning to look at him. ‘It means that what you claimed was true, in the sense that the whole incident was pre-planned by someone. Somebody took the trouble to plant recording equipment at the scene – positioned in more than one location – gather that information, and then email it to you. Unless of course you were the one who set up the incident and did the recording.’