Dr. Preston's Daughter

by Laura MacDonald

  Jill was silent for a moment then, setting her mug down on a coffee-table beside her, she said, ‘I’ve never asked this before, Gemma, but have you ever heard from Daisy’s father?’

  ‘I told you—he went abroad,’ said Gemma quickly. ‘The relationship was already over.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Jill shrugged, ‘I just wondered, that’s all.’ She hesitated. ‘Tell me,’ she said after a moment, ‘what will you tell Daisy when she asks about her father? Because she will, Gemma. When she’s a bit older, she will want to know.’

  ‘I know she will.’ Gemma nodded. ‘I guess I’ll just tell her the truth. I’ll say it was a relationship that ended before she was born.’

  ‘But she’ll want to know whether you loved him—she’s bound to want to know that.’

  ‘Yes, I know…’

  ‘So what will you say?’ Jill stared at her. ‘Did you love him?’

  ‘Of course I did…at the time.’

  ‘And did he love you, Gemma?’

  ‘Yes, he said he did. Honestly Mum, what do you take me for? Of course I loved him.’ Suddenly Gemma realised she was shaking.

  ‘I thought you must have done.’ Jill nodded thoughtfully. ‘So why did you part?’ she asked gently.

  ‘He wasn’t interested in settling down or having children. He’d already made that plain. His career came first—I told you that at the time. He took the job abroad to further his career…’ Gemma broke off, unable to continue as to her horror a lump had risen in her throat and tears threatened.

  ‘I’m sorry, darling. I really am.’ Jill must have realised that Gemma was upset. ‘But I do worry about you,’ she said, ‘and about Daisy.’

  ‘Well, you mustn’t, Mum. Daisy and I are fine just the way we are.’

  Her reassurances seemed to satisfy her mother, at least for the time being, but when she was at last alone in her room Gemma found it a little more difficult to convince herself that everything was fine. From the moment Stephen had strolled onto the cardiac unit and back into her life all the old feelings and desires had been revived, and just for a while there it had seemed that Stephen might have felt the same way.

  But how did she feel about that? Did she want to try again? Deep inside she knew there was a part of her that would like nothing better than to have Stephen back in her life, but before that could happen he would have to know about Daisy and there was no telling how he would react to that.

  Throughout the course of that long night Gemma agonised over whether she should now tell Stephen that Daisy was his while at the same time she tried to gauge his reaction to such overwhelming news. Would it be anger that she had kept it from him or was there a possibility that he would remain indifferent? He hadn’t been interested in having children before so would it be so different now? Or, heaven forbid, could he—the thought had previously occurred to her—fight her for custody of his daughter? And if he did, was there a possibility he might win? Panic seized her afresh at the prospect of losing Daisy, and as the first pewter grey of the dawn touched the sky Gemma reached her decision. She wouldn’t tell Stephen that Daisy was his, at least not for the foreseeable future. Instead, she would wait and see what Stephen’s attitude towards her was now that he believed she had borne another man’s child. If he still cared about her, as he’d indicated, that surely would prove to be the ultimate test.

  ‘Whatever’s going on?’ It was the start of Gemma’s shift and the nurses’ station and surrounding area was a hive of activity as she arrived for duty.

  ‘It’s Tristan.’ Julie Miles was on the phone but she covered the mouthpiece in order to reply to Gemma’s question.

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Gemma felt a stab of alarm at the sense of urgency around her.

  ‘He’s showing signs of rejection,’ Julie replied. ‘Dr Preston has been here all night. He’s just asked me to track down Mr Van Haelfen. Trouble is, he’s on his mobile and, according to his secretary, he’s sailing in the Solent. Ah, wait a minute, I’ve got a ringing tone…’

  Gemma turned away sick at heart. Tristan had been doing so well and now this. She looked towards the bay where Tristan had been recuperating from his transplant and was in time to see Stephen coming out. He looked almost grey with fatigue and Gemma recalled that he’d been on duty all the previous day as well as all night. He gave her a weary smile and her heart went out to him.

  ‘Stephen,’ she said, ‘I’ve just heard about Tristan—just how bad is he?’

  ‘Pretty bad.’ Stephen sounded exhausted. ‘He’s showing decided signs of rejection. We’ve given large doses of intravenous steroids but at the moment there’s no change…’ He paused and looked over at Julie. ‘Any luck with Mr Van Haelfen yet, Sister?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve just got through,’ she replied. ‘I’ve put him in the picture and he says he’s coming straight back. He should be here by lunchtime. Now, Dr Preston,’ Julie went on briskly, ‘may I suggest that you get some rest?’

  ‘Well…’ Stephen hesitated.

  ‘Dr Powell has just come on duty—you can’t do any more for the moment.’

  ‘All right.’ Stephen nodded and rubbed one hand across his eyes. ‘I’ll get my head down for a while—but, please, wake me when Mr Van Haelfen arrives. Oh, and perhaps you could phone Janice Margham and tell her what’s happening.’ He looked at Gemma as he spoke. ‘I’m sure she’ll want to be here.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Gemma nodded.

  As Stephen took himself off to the doctors’ rest room and Julie bustled off to her office, Gemma looked up Janice’s number then picked up the receiver and dialled.

  Janice answered on the sixth ring. She sounded bright and happy and Gemma hated to be the one to give her bad news. ‘Janice,’ she said, ‘it’s Gemma Langford at Denby.’

  ‘Oh, hello, Gemma.’ Janice still sounded bright and the possible implication of the call obviously hadn’t struck her. It must have been that for so long when Tristan had been critical she’d dreaded a call and now that he was better it hadn’t entered her head that there might be any sort of problem. No doubt she imagined that Gemma was calling to ask her to bring something in that Tristan wanted, like clean T-shirts or the latest football magazine.

  ‘Janice, Sister Miles has asked me to ring you because she felt you might like to come in this morning and be with Tristan.’

  ‘Why? What’s wrong?’ Immediately Janice’s tone changed.

  ‘Well, we hope it isn’t too much to worry about, but there are a few signs of rejection,’ said Gemma carefully. ‘Janice…’

  ‘I’ll be right there.’

  The line went dead and Gemma sighed as she replaced the receiver. Kim was standing near the desk and she looked questioningly at Gemma.

  ‘That was Janice Margham,’ Gemma explained.

  ‘You told her about Tristan?’ asked Kim.

  ‘Yes, she’s on her way in.’

  ‘Poor woman.’ Kim shook her head. ‘Just when everything was going so well.’

  ‘It may still be all right,’ said Gemma firmly. ‘We must think positively.’

  ‘Did you know Stephen has been here all night with him?’ asked Kim.

  ‘Yes, Julie did mention it.’ Gemma nodded. ‘She’s sent for Mr Van Haelfen now.’

  ‘I understand he asked to be kept informed,’ said Kim. ‘I’m just going in to make Tristan more comfortable, Gem, will you give me a hand?’

  ‘Of course.’ Gemma joined Kim and together they made their way towards the bay where Tristan was. ‘Were you OK last night?’ asked Kim suddenly.

  ‘Yes,’ said Gemma. ‘Why?’

  ‘I just wondered, that’s all.’ Kim shrugged. ‘I thought you looked a bit upset when we were all at the bar then you and Stephen went off on your own in a huddle…’

  ‘We weren’t in a huddle!’ protested Gemma.

  ‘And then the next time I looked, Stephen had gone.’

  ‘His pager went off—it was probably all this to do with Tristan.’

>   ‘And you were sitting there on your own, looking quite fierce.’

  ‘I was not looking fierce!’

  ‘Well, it certainly looked that way from where I was standing.’ Kim paused and peered at Gemma. ‘Did it have anything to do with what Alex said to Stephen?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Gemma frowned, knowing full well what Kim was referring to but not wanting to give the impression that she had as much as given it a second thought.

  ‘Didn’t Alex go on about you being a single parent?’

  ‘Oh, that.’ Gemma deliberately sounded vague. ‘I believe she did say something.’

  ‘So did Stephen know about that?’ asked Kim curiously.

  ‘Er, no, I don’t believe he did.’ Gemma shook her head.

  ‘You mean that wasn’t something you chose to tell him the other night on your moonlight stroll?’ asked Kim, throwing Gemma a sidelong glance.

  ‘I didn’t consider it necessary.’ Gemma shrugged.

  ‘But surely, if you two were old friends, wouldn’t you want to tell him about Daisy—?’

  ‘Kim, just leave it, will you? Please.’ Exasperated, Gemma half turned to her friend.

  ‘OK.’ Kim’s eyes widened but she raised her hands in a submissive gesture and the two of them covered the remaining distance to Tristan’s bed in silence.

  Tristan looked weak and pale and his eyes were closed. An intravenous drip had been set up, he was attached to a heart monitor and an oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, assisting his breathing.

  Together the two nurses set about making him more comfortable—moving him and creaming and massaging pressure points to prevent bedsores, washing his hands and face and freshening his mouth, before finally carrying out the routine observations of pulse, temperature and blood pressure.

  ‘Your mum’s coming in to see you soon, Tristan,’ said Gemma as Kim held him forward and she plumped up his pillows.

  It was as much as Tristan could do to acknowledge the fact before slipping back to sleep, and when a few moments later Janice arrived, accompanied by her sister Sue, Tristan remained unaware of the fact.

  ‘What’s happened?’ demanded Janice. ‘Why is he like this? He was fine yesterday afternoon when I saw him.’

  ‘He showed signs of rejection during the evening,’ said Gemma gently, taking Janice’s arm.

  ‘So why wasn’t I sent for then?’ There was a catch in Janice’s voice.

  ‘This is something that often happens after a transplant,’ Gemma explained, ‘and at that point it seemed it was something that could be easily controlled.’

  ‘But now that isn’t the case—is that it?’ Janice looked wildly from Gemma to Kim then back to Gemma again.

  ‘It doesn’t appear to be,’ Gemma admitted reluctantly. She hated saying it to this woman who up until then had been so brave, facing up to an incredibly difficult situation on her own. ‘But you must try not to worry,’ she added. ‘We’re doing everything we can for Tristan.’

  ‘What is being done?’ It was Sue who intervened, asking the crucial question.

  ‘He’s being given steroids and antibiotics,’ said Gemma. ‘Very often that’s all that’s required to stabilise things again.’

  ‘But you say it isn’t being controlled. Why isn’t he responding to the drugs?’ cried Janice. Before Gemma could answer, she went on, ‘I want to see the doctor. I want to see Mr Van Haelfen.’

  ‘Mr Van Haelfen is on his way into the hospital to see Tristan,’ Kim put in quickly.

  ‘When will he be here?’ There was an edge to Janice’s voice now that seemed dangerously close to hysteria, and Gemma’s heart went out to her, knowing how she would feel if it was Daisy’s life that was in the balance.

  ‘Mr Van Haelfen is off duty,’ Gemma said gently. ‘But he had asked to be kept informed of Tristan’s condition. When he was told of the signs of rejection this morning he said he was returning to the hospital.’

  ‘But what if he doesn’t get here in time?’ Janice turned away and her voice faltered.

  ‘He will,’ said Gemma reassuringly. ‘Please, Janice, try not to worry.’

  ‘Is Dr Preston here?’ asked Sue looking up suddenly.

  ‘Dr Preston has been up all night with Tristan,’ said Gemma. ‘He’s gone to get some rest before Mr Van Haelfen arrives.’

  ‘Will Tristan have to go back into Theatre?’

  ‘He may do,’ Gemma conceded, ‘but that will be up to Mr Van Haelfen.’

  ‘Is there another doctor on duty who we can talk to?’ asked Sue.

  ‘Dr Powell is here,’ said Gemma. ‘I’ll go and see if I can find her for you.’

  Madeleine Powell came and talked at length to Janice and Sue and just before lunchtime Bjorn Van Haelfen arrived at the hospital.

  ‘Gemma, would you call Dr Preston?’ asked Julie urgently, as the consultant went straight to his office to examine the reports on Tristan.

  She could have paged him, she knew, but knowing how daunting it was to be woken by a pager she found herself going down the corridor to the doctors’ rest room. She tapped on the outer door, which was opened by a bleary-eyed junior doctor.

  ‘I’ve come to call Dr Preston,’ she said.

  ‘He must be in there.’ The doctor indicated a closed door behind him. ‘I’ll leave you to it—I should have been on A and E half an hour ago.’ Struggling into his white coat, he disappeared out of the door.

  Taking a deep breath, Gemma tapped on the closed door. There was no reply so she rapped again, louder this time. When there was still no reply she gingerly turned the handle and pushed open the door. She hadn’t intended going in. All she’d intended had been to wake Stephen and tell him that Mr Van Haelfen had arrived.

  It was dim inside the room as the blinds were drawn. Stephen, clad only in a white T-shirt and boxer shorts, was lying spread-eagled and face down on one of the two single beds.

  ‘Stephen…’ Gemma moved into the room. There was no response and for a moment she stood at the side of the bed, staring down at him. He looked boyish and very vulnerable in sleep, his dark hair tousled and shadow around his jaw. For a moment she was reminded of those times in the past when he’d been on call and she’d had to wake him. Rapidly she dismissed the thought—it wouldn’t do to start thinking on those lines now.

  Crouching by the side of the bed, Gemma gently touched his bare shoulder. ‘Stephen,’ she said, ‘wake up.’

  He stirred and opened his eyes. ‘Gemma,’ he murmured sleepily as his gaze met hers. Before she had the chance to speak, in an apparently involuntary gesture he raised himself up and reached out for her, taking hold of her arm and drawing her towards him.

  ‘Stephen…’ She pulled back sharply and with a little start he seemed to come to.

  ‘Gemma?’ he said again. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘I only came to tell you…’ She faltered, disconcerted now by his closeness and the intimacy of the moment. ‘That Mr Van Haelfen has just arrived.’

  He groaned then rubbed his face with his hands. ‘Oh, I see. For a moment I thought…’ He didn’t finish the sentence but Gemma knew exactly what he’d thought.

  He rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment then he stood up. ‘Give me five minutes,’ he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for Gemma to be there with him.

  ‘Shall I make you some tea?’ she asked as he headed for the shower room.

  ‘Please,’ he called above the sound of the shower.

  His shower quite literally took him five minutes, and by the time he came out into the small kitchen area of the rest rooms Gemma had brewed a mug of tea. He was dressed now, in a white shirt, grey trousers and tie, while his hair was wet and spiky.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said as he took the mug she handed to him. Very briefly, his fingers touched hers.

  She looked up and as their eyes met her pulse suddenly quickened.

  ‘Just like old times,’ he murmured. ‘Me rushing to get dressed, you o
rganising me…me wanting to linger…’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed quickly, ‘just like old times.’

  ‘Pity I have to go…’ Still his gaze held hers.

  ‘Yes, but you do have to go, Stephen.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘I know, but we also have to talk, Gemma.’

  ‘I know.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘I know we do, Stephen…but not now. You really do have to go.’

  ‘How is Tristan?’ he asked as he hastily drank his tea.

  ‘About the same, I think. His mother and his aunt are with him.’

  ‘Right.’ He set down his mug then struggled into his white coat. ‘I’ll see you later. Oh, and Gemma…’ He’d turned to go but he paused and looked back.

  ‘Yes, Stephen?’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘The gentle awakening.’ He smiled then he was gone, out of the rest rooms and down the corridor to Mr Van Haelfen’s office, leaving Gemma to return to the ward feeling decidedly shaken by the events of the last few minutes.

  CHAPTER NINE

  TRISTAN went back to Theatre and Gemma kept an eye on Janice and Sue through much of the agonising wait.

  ‘It will be too cruel if anything happens now,’ whispered Sue as Janice stood with her back to them, staring out of the window of the relatives’ room. ‘As it is, Janice could have another problem to face.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Gemma with a frown. ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘Tristan’s father is back on the scene.’ Sue answered in the same low tone so that her sister wouldn’t hear.

  ‘I didn’t think there was any contact with him,’ Gemma replied.

  ‘There wasn’ t…there hasn’t been, not for years…but, well, news of Tristan’s transplant got out at the factory where his father works and he contacted Janice.’

  ‘How did she react?’ Gemma threw a glance in Janice’s direction.

  ‘She wasn’t too happy,’ Sue replied with a grimace. ‘Let’s face it, he hasn’t wanted anything to do with them for years. But, well, I suppose he was worried about Tristan when he heard, and he is his dad, isn’t he? There’s no getting away from that fact…’