In Intensive Care he strides quickly to the bay where Jake’s bed is, rounds the corner and stops in horror. The bed where Jake lay unconscious last night is empty, stripped of all personalization, the blankets folded up on the end, the sheets in a heap on the floor. Nearby is a giant laundry basket on wheels, other used sheets hanging loosely over the edges. Hector spins and looks frantically around the ward. He sees a nurse and hurries over to her.
‘The – the boy, the little boy, Jake McCarthy, he was here, in that bed . . . where is he now? He’s not . . .?’
‘Oh, yes, little Jake. Yes. He went downstairs, about an hour ago.’
‘Downstairs?’
‘Yes. He came round this morning so the doctor said he could be moved down to the paediatric ward. There are other children there, and it’s much brighter, so he’ll—’
‘Oh thank you, thank you!’ He touches her arm briefly then turns and hurries back towards the lifts.
‘You’re more than welcome,’ she says, flushing as she watches him go.
This is Spencer Ward, the children’s ward. It’s much more cheery, isn’t it? I love the way they paint Tigger and Pooh on the walls in every children’s ward in the country, to give the kids that move around from hospital to hospital some sense of continuity and familiarity. Or maybe there’s a single set of NHS Winnie the Pooh stencils that tour the country.
Hector locates Jake’s bed and arrives to find Jake sitting up in bed eating ice cream, Sarah and Glenn sitting either side of him, grinning.
‘Hec!’ Glenn shouts and stands up to embrace his brother. ‘Look at him, Hector, look! Doesn’t he look fantastic?’
Hector looks at Jake’s ice-creamy lips and bright eyes and has to agree. ‘My God, Glenn. He looks amazing. Is he . . .?’
‘They said his brain scan is clear. He’s fine, absolutely fine. The doctor says he has hard bones.’
Hector looks from Glenn to Sarah and Jake. Jake is still very pale but he is animated now, eagerly tucking into the ice cream with one hand while Sarah holds the bowl still for him. His other arm is hanging in a foam sling that’s round his neck. ‘All right, Jakey? Good to have you back with us. How are you doing?’
‘I’m having ice cream for breakfast and ice cream for lunch and ice cream for tea,’ Jake says enthusiastically. ‘And then we’re going to Disneyland.’
‘Wow, that’s fantastic. You’re very lucky, aren’t you?’ The boy nods. Hector turns to Glenn and says very quietly, ‘Do you think there’s any danger that he might link running away from home with loads of presents and treats, and try it again?’
Glenn shrugs. ‘Maybe. I think it’s more likely that he’ll link running away with fear and pain, and coming home with treats and presents. Anyway, it’s never going to happen again. We won’t let it, will we, Sar?’
Sarah gazes up at her husband and smiles. ‘No way.’
‘Great,’ says Hector, ‘because I’ve bought him a present too!’
And so here he is, right now, standing outside the neo-natal ward, watching me with Nick. As he bounced down the corridor only a few moments ago, everything was right, everything was perfect, in fact, and he had an excited, bubbly feeling inside. Today, early this morning, Plum’s brand-new life started, and he wants to start a brand-new one too. His old life of loneliness and worry, with just his mum to care for, was coming to an end. Very soon, he would have two new beautiful people in his life, two very precious, very loved people to kiss goodbye, and come home to, and worry about, and devote his life to. He is grinning broadly as he walks, swinging the carrier bag, nodding and saying ‘Good morning!’ to any stranger he encounters. People are looking at him and smiling, particularly as he is heading towards neo-natal. There goes a new dad, they are all thinking with a smile, How lovely. He doesn’t care. He is a man in love.
But it all freezes into greyness as he arrives at the ward and sees Nick on my bed. Worse than seeing Nick there is the fact that I look totally comfortable with him, and that he is holding little Plum. With a sickening jolt Hector is reminded that Plum is not his daughter and in fact he is not a new dad at all. He is nothing to this baby. He sags and instinctively takes a couple of steps backwards.
‘Everything all right?’ says a voice behind him. He turns to find a cheerful-looking nurse standing there holding a vase of flowers. Just as he imagined.
‘I’m working on it,’ he says, smiling at the nurse who turns faintly pink and smiles warmly back.
‘Need any help?’ she asks him, although she is clearly very busy herself.
He bows slightly. ‘You are very kind, er . . .’ he glances at her name badge, ‘. . . Maggie. But I feel that really I should be asking you that.’
She blushes more deeply. ‘Oh, er, ha ha, not really, don’t be silly, it’s no trouble at all.’
He inclines his head again, then turns back to look into the ward. Nick is still there, although he looks as if he’s getting ready to leave. He’s standing up and now Hector has a clear view of Plum, in my arms, which means he can see that she is wearing the little white starry sleepsuit he gave to me yesterday, and this sight fills his chest with air and returns nearly all the bursting feeling. He grins again as he watches Nick leave and his fingers twitch on the carrier bag. He lifts it up to take out the small, red velvet box inside, which he slips into his jacket pocket – plenty of time – then walks confidently around the corner to the bed.
My third visitor is Hector who arrives seconds after Nick leaves, and he is by far the most welcome. I have been smiling so much today that my face is hurting, but still I manage a wide grin when I see him.
‘Hector! Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ He comes over to the bed, leans down and kisses me warmly on the mouth. His face stays kissing-close as he looks at me.
‘Morning, gorgeous. How did it go?’
‘I didn’t sleep a wink and neither did she, but it was the most fantastic night of my life.’ He leans over the crib and touches Plum’s curved back. ‘Oh I’m so glad to see you.’ It’s Saturday, but he’s dressed up smartly in a shirt and tie anyway. I frown. ‘Are you going to work later?’
He turns to me, a serious expression on his face. ‘No, Rachel, I’m not. Why do you say that?’
‘The tie, the suit. You look like you’re off to a job interview.’
He smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed where Nick has just been sitting. Only much closer. ‘Of course I’m dressed smartly. It’s an important day, isn’t it? Plum’s first full day in the world. I’m going to meet her properly soon, when she wakes up.’
‘Oh.’ The ache of tears comes into my throat. Isn’t he just so wonderful, to dress smartly to make a good impression on my ten-hour-old daughter?
He’s fidgeting now, though. He clears his throat. ‘The thing is, Rachel, there is another reason why I’ve dressed smartly today.’
‘Is there?’
‘Ahem. Yes.’ He puts his hand into his jacket pocket, then pulls it out again. ‘But first things first.’ He lifts a carrier bag on to the bed and pulls out a beautiful plush snail, covered in patches of different textures. Somewhere inside is a bell that rings as Hector passes it to me. ‘I bought a little present for . . . for who? Who is she? She can’t be Plum all her life, can she? She’ll be terribly bullied at school.’
‘Ruby. Her name is Ruby.’
‘Ruby? That’s very pretty. I like it.’ He turns to the crib. ‘Hello, little Ruby. I’m really happy to see you again. I hope you like your present.’ Gently he places the snail at the end of the crib, then strokes Ruby’s head with one finger. ‘You’re so lovely,’ he says, almost not loud enough for me to hear.
‘She is, isn’t she?’
He turns to me. ‘I mean you, Rachel.’ He’s looking at me earnestly now and his hand is back inside his jacket pocket. Suddenly I feel as if I know what is coming but at the same time I’m terrified to believe it. He slides off the bed and gets down on the floor, then kneels up. The ward has gone silent again and I can f
eel all heads turned towards us, but I can only look at Hector, lovely, wonderful Hector, the man I have loved for a lifetime – Ruby’s lifetime.
‘Rachel, you inspired me, you still do and I think you always will. I am madly in love with you. I don’t want to live another moment without you. Please, please, say I can be your husband, and Ruby’s daddy?’
I burst into laughs, or sobs, or a combination of both, and nod vigorously, smiling and crying. He leaps up and engulfs me in a hug and everyone on the ward claps and cheers and at that moment my mum arrives and wakes up all the babies.
THE END
About the Author
Debbie Carbin lives in Kent with her husband and two children. Thanks for Nothing Nick Maxwell is her first novel.
TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS
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First publication in Great Britain
Black Swan edition published 2008
Copyright © Debbie Carbin 2008
Debbie Carbin has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Epub ISBN: 9781407035949 Version 1.0
ISBN 9780552774161
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Thanks For Nothing, Nick Maxwell Page 41
