by Melissa Hill
Then again, Harriet had raised a freethinker like Tom and of course had been through it all with Fiona’s kids, too, so perhaps she wasn’t quite as critical of their choice as so many others.
“Too much conflicting information,” Tom had eventually concluded back then when they’d gone over the arguments for and against for the umpteenth time. “Not to mention way too many get-out clauses from the pharma companies. And as for the government,” he spat disdainfully, “only interested in maintaining herd immunity, and couldn’t give a hoot about individuals.”
And while it wasn’t quite so easy for Madeleine to believe that last part about the government not caring, based on research, she tended to agree with him on the other points. Even now, it didn’t seem like a week went by without some related controversy in the news about other vaccinations, like the troubling side effects from the HPV jab in young girls, and the horrible instances of narcolepsy in some children following swine-flu shots.
“And how is the other little girl?” Harriet asked now as she pulled back Clara’s hair and began plaiting it in a French braid.
“Still in the hospital, I’m afraid,” offered Madeleine quietly. “I actually tried to call Kate—the mother—earlier to see how things were.” She really wished she’d had the opportunity to talk to Rosie’s mum personally rather than hide behind voice mail, because she truly didn’t want Kate to think that she didn’t care or was indifferent to their plight. She had just come out of a similar trauma, and she couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if Clara was the one who’d ended up in the hospital.
“And her prognosis?” Harriet pushed, and by her tone Madeleine guessed her mother-in-law had something on her mind. Much like her son, she was very forthcoming with her opinions and while usually Madeleine appreciated that in a person, she wasn’t in the mood for disapproval or recrimination of the kind she’d already gotten from Frank Barrett.
“Getting better, I believe,” she said noncommittally, though she couldn’t be sure whether or not this was true. She just didn’t want to go down this rabbit hole with Harriet now.
Luckily, a sound from upstairs, where Jake was playing, temporarily diverted the other woman’s attention.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you go see what your brother is up to?” Clara’s grandmother urged her gently. “And if it’s just boring boy stuff, come back down and we’ll figure out something fun to do.”
Uh-oh, there’s a lecture coming for sure...
Clara duly headed in the direction of the noise, allowing Harriet to sit back on the sofa and run a hand through her cropped ash-blond hair as she regarded her daughter-in-law.
“You do know, dear, that the outbreak has been mentioned in the local news... Aren’t you worried—given your profile—about people making the connection?”
Madeleine shrugged, surprised. “Even if they did, I don’t see why it would be an issue, Harriet. I mean, even if a connection is made to Clara, it’s not like I’m trying to hide something. Tom and I have always been up-front about our preferences. Not everyone agrees with our stance—I know that—but at the end of the day we have nothing to hide. Besides, it’s hardly a ‘measles outbreak’—only two kids have been affected and one is already better.”
Harriet cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “You really think people aren’t talking? Only yesterday I heard somebody in the shop downtown discussing it.”
“Talking about what?”
“About the fact that it seems Clara passed a highly infectious—preventable—disease onto a vulnerable classmate. People don’t look too kindly on those who go against conventional medical wisdom, as I’m sure you know—especially educated, intelligent people.”
Madeleine was somewhat stung; firstly, by the idea that people in Knockroe had been talking, but particularly at the thinly veiled insult to her and Tom’s intelligence. She’d thought that Harriet of all people should understand the root of their reasoning.
“That’s not to say that I agree with these people, Madeleine,” her mother-in-law added, which mollified her somewhat, “but you must admit, it’s not a good situation. And my advice to you—as someone who is occasionally, and it seems increasingly, in the public eye—is you would do well not to court any controversy.”
Madeleine couldn’t think of a reply to this and, after a beat, in which the two women sat in awkward silence, Harriet continued, “My point is that it might be best for you to lie low for a while, dear, perhaps not be so quick to move on and forget? Of course, I appreciate now that Clara is better—thank goodness—you want to put the whole frightening episode behind you and get on with your life, but the other little girl is still in the hospital and people tend to have awfully...strong opinions about these things. If I were you, I might think about how I would respond if a wider audience—the general public, I mean—makes the connection and perhaps wants to proffer their opinions.”
Madeleine thought about it. She understood where Harriet was coming from, but it wasn’t as if she used the blog or any other media she was involved in to foist her opinions on anyone else. Mad Mum was only ever intended as a lighthearted, jokey take on motherhood, and a million miles away from a serious forum about the pros and cons of childhood vaccination. She’d started it for that very reason, as a foil to the more prevalent How to Be a Perfect Mum brigade.
And what were the chances of her audience making such a connection, in any case? No, Harriet was just playing devil’s advocate after overhearing the obligatory gossip and mutterings of a small town like Knockroe.
Her mother-in-law was simply making a mountain out of a molehill, Madeleine was sure of it.
Once little Rosie O’Hara got out of the hospital, the whole thing would be forgotten about in no time.
15
“Look, I’m not saying that people shouldn’t keep an eye out, what I am saying is that for their sake, as well as your own, kids don’t need to be mollycoddled.”
“But how is helping them up and down a slide mollycoddling exactly? And perhaps those parents who ‘hover’ over their kids, as you like to put it, aren’t necessarily trying to keep them safe, but actually want to spend time with them, play with them.”
“Sure, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that...”
“Then why are you ridiculing them? Making fun of people for actually wanting to spend quality time with their kids, when chances are they’ve been out working hard all week and may have barely seen them from the start of one day to the next. But, of course, you don’t have to consider those things, Madeleine, because you’re at home all day—”
“OK, guys, let’s not turn this into a working versus stay-at-home parent situation...”
“Honestly, Gemma, I think you’re taking that piece way too seriously. My point was not that parents shouldn’t play with their kids—that helicopter stuff was completely tongue-in-cheek, as I’m sure most of our viewers can appreciate. But the crux of the article is that for kids, playgrounds have become joyless and safety oriented to the point of boredom. They want to explore, they need to get a bit scraped and cut up now and again... It helps with their development. It reminds me of this discussion I had with one of my friends recently about jelly head—have you ever heard of jelly head?”
“No, but perhaps some of our Morning Coffee viewers have...”
“Well, just in case, it’s this little soft spot on a baby’s head that acts as protection for their skulls—”
“The fontanel.”
“Yes, that’s it, thanks, Anita—I knew there was some fancy medical name for it.”
“Leave it to our author panelist to find the right word.”
“Haha, exactly. Anyway...it fuses up at around eighteen months, I think, but my point is that it’s there for a reason—to safeguard the brain. When they’re at crawling stage, babies need to be hardy, they fall over
, crash into things, sometimes even get dropped by their parents...”
“Now, that’s a guilty look if ever I saw one—Madeleine Cooper, are you telling us that you might have dropped one of your own children at some point?”
“Um, guilty as charged, Louise, like many parents watching this morning, I’m sure! But it certainly didn’t do Jake any harm, not that I know of anyway. I suppose my point is, kids are hardy by nature, so there’s really no need for parents to drive themselves nuts worrying. And then of course there was this other time when Clara had just started to crawl... I laid her down on the bed, took my eye off her for a split second and when I turned back hadn’t she rolled off it...”
* * *
I sat in the hallway of the hospital, numbed by what had happened the night before.
I’d honestly thought that finding Greg dead on the kitchen floor two years ago would be the worst thing I’d ever have to endure.
But I was wrong.
Last night, watching the medical team crowd around my convulsing daughter, Rosie’s little body racked by seizures as they worked to stabilize her... The memory of that horrific visual prompted even more tears, when I honestly thought I could cry no more.
Lucy’s face when I finally arrived back at the hospital with Christine, telling me that they’d rushed Rosie to ICU following a sudden onset of multiple seizures. They’d put her on a cocktail of anticonvulsant drugs and back on the ventilator, but it didn’t look good...
Since day one, I had been struggling not to think about the official stats on childhood measles and its complications:
One out of twenty kids came down with pneumonia.
One out of every thousand will develop encephalitis.
Encephalitis can leave a child deaf or with an intellectual disability.
For every one thousand children who get measles, one or two will die.
Die.
A one-in-one-thousand chance. That was the type of odds my little girl was dealing with just then.
I stifled a sob, at the same time wanting to curse someone, something. I was so angry with myself, yes. But I was also terrified. Terrified that I would lose her—my little Rosie—the only thing I had left.
“Kate, you have to think pos—” Lucy began, trying to soothe me as she rushed along the corridor with me, trying to keep up.
“Please don’t tell me that just now!” I raged, tears filling my eyes afresh. “I’m scared to death and trying not to rip off my own skin. I’ve never felt so helpless.”
No, that wasn’t quite true. I’d also felt completely that way two years before when I’d found my daughter screaming in the kitchen right after she discovered her dad’s lifeless body. That was a pretty helpless moment, too.
My heart lurched for Greg, too. If there was ever a moment I needed him, it was then. But of course that wasn’t possible.
I reached the ICU then, frantically searching for Dr. Ryan, unable to believe that something like this could happen the minute I’d left her side.
Why had I left her side? To take a fucking bubble bath...
I thought my brain was literally going to explode while I waited, watching with horror as I noticed the body language and facial expressions of the medical team gathered around her. I knew that look.
Oh, please, God, no...
I can’t even remember being taken out of the room, Lucy’s arm around my shoulders, my body racked with sobs and my brain pounding with sorrow and despair.
Kids are hardy...there’s really no need for parents to drive themselves nuts worrying...
To go through all that, I thought, looking down at my hands to see my knuckles whitening, to spend all of last night watching my little girl fight valiantly for her barely lived life while I could do nothing but stand there, helpless...
She’s only five years old...
To go through all that—a night of utter torture and despair—and now have to hear that woman on TV, jabbering about how kids should be put in danger, that it didn’t do them any harm...
A loud sob escaped from my mouth, and I stared unseeingly up at the TV, fresh hatred burning through my veins.
How dare she? I raged, furiously wiping my eyes. How dare Madeleine Cooper say such a thing, when it was her bad decisions—her downright irresponsible choices—that had put me and Rosie through hell these last few weeks?
How dare she?
I’d heard those stupid voice mails, pathetic attempts at an apology and faux concern by sending balloons, when the truth was the silly bitch couldn’t care less. That woman and her family had simply picked up and gotten on with their lives, as if what had befallen Rosie was absolutely nothing.
And now here she was on national TV, dressed up to the nines with her perfect makeup and bouncy blond curls, being paraded as some kind of parenting expert...
I felt sick to the core. Now I was long past crying and still too numb for grief. The only emotion I felt just then was...rage.
Rage at Madeleine Cooper for visiting this misery on me, just when I’d started to pick up the pieces of my and Rosie’s life after Greg’s death. Rage at the woman for adding insult to injury by taunting me in my darkest hour.
I believe that those same people don’t understand the enormous damage their reckless decisions have caused...
Christine was right: the Coopers should be held responsible for this and be made to face the true cost of their recklessness.
My shoulders shuddered and spontaneously collapsed with another bout of tears.
Because my poor little Rosie was the one who’d ended up paying for it.
16
ditzy123: Did anyone see Madeleine Cooper on the TV this morning? Isn’t she brilliant—so easygoing. I LOL’d when she said that she’d dropped her kid as a baby—I mean, who hasn’t? Though not sure I’d admit it on national TV...
shazzababe: I did see her and yeah, she’s great. I’ve actually been following her blog for a while—really funny and down to earth. It helped me a lot in the early days with babs TBH, as she really tells it like it is, and doesn’t bang on about how you’re “supposed” to do this, that and the other. She looks amazing too—I loved the dress she was wearing. Just goes to prove what she was saying before that being a mum doesn’t mean you have to forgo style. She’s fab!
booklover9: Madeleine is great fun. I read her blog too and follow her on Facebook and it’s like having a chat with a great friend. TV needs more people like her, not like that sourpuss Gemma Moore. I don’t think she likes Mad Mum at all, ha!
ditzy123: She was a bit harsh on her earlier, wasn’t she? Though no better woman than Madeleine to take it—I’d say she doesn’t let anyone walk over her. Interesting to watch, though, I thought Gemma was going to explode. And I think Madeleine enjoys goading her. And yah, I loved her dress too! I’d say it’s expensive although in her blog she often mentions normal person’s stuff from the high street. She’s the biz...
Madeleine smiled as she read through the social media reaction to her latest appearance on Morning Coffee. She guessed some of her comments—in particular the admission of dropping poor Jake—would be provocative, but had tried her best to keep it all lighthearted, and was glad to see that her tone had hit the mark.
She was also somewhat relieved to see that she wasn’t the only one who seemed to think Gemma Moore had it in for her. She’d been quite taken aback when the journalist had taken such a combative stance toward the “Parents Not Allowed” blog post. Perhaps the helicopter thing had hit a nerve?
Oh, well, there was nothing Madeleine could do about that; once her followers and the general public seemed to have taken the post and the sentiment behind it in the spirit in which it was intended, that was all that mattered.
But thinking of Jake... Madeleine took out her phone and brought up the number
for one of Jake’s school friends’ mums.
“Hello, Carol? How are you doing, sweetheart? It’s Madeleine here,” she said pleasantly, when the other woman picked up.
“Madeleine, hi.”
“Listen, I’m just checking in to see about a playdate with Nathan. Long overdue, I know, and Jake has been bugging me about it for ages, but things have been busy lately and of course with poor Clara being sick... So anyway, would this Thursday suit? I can pick Nate up after school if you like?”
“Actually, I’m not really sure that’s a good idea, Madeleine...”
“Well, would Friday be any better?”
“I actually meant that I’m not keen on the playdate in general. Not after the whole...episode with Clara.”
“You mean the measles? But she’s well over that now and long past being infectious. In fact, she went back to school last week.”
“It’s not that. It’s just... I’m sorry, Madeleine, but, to be frank, I’m uncomfortable with the fact that Jake isn’t vaccinated. I didn’t know.”
“But Jake had measles years ago—he’s fine.”
“He’s still not vaccinated, though.”
“I don’t understand. Like I said, he can’t get it again and in any case I’m assuming Nathan is vaccinated. So what’s the problem—exactly?”
“The problem is that I don’t want to take any chances, not after what happened to little Rosie O’Hara.”
“Oh...”
“I’m sorry, Madeleine. Obviously the choices you make for your children are your own business, but I can’t run the risk of—”
“I see.”
“Especially when it seems that poor Rosie took a turn for the worse over the weekend. Last I heard she was in a coma, so you understand...”
Madeleine wasn’t sure if she’d hung up on Carol McDaid without even saying goodbye but it didn’t matter. A coma... What on earth?
She dialed Lucy’s number as fast as she could, forgetting in her haste that she could just hit her friend’s name in her saved contacts, but she was so eager to talk to her, so desperate to find out what had happened.
