Keep You Safe

by Melissa Hill

  “Jesus.” Declan seemed to shudder. “That’s awful, I’m so sorry. Again, I can’t even imagine what you’ve gone through—what you’re still going through. All this from measles...”

  “I know. And now I’ve started to question myself all over again about the allergy and whether we should have just bitten the bullet and given her the MMR vaccination when she was a baby. The choice back then was weighing up the certainty of a dangerous reaction taken against the risk of contracting measles. But now I’m thinking at least maybe we could have handled the reaction, whereas brain damage...”

  This was what had been killing me in the days since Friday. Rosie could have been protected—by me and Greg, way back when. But as Dr. Ryan had reassured me at the hospital, nobody could ever have guessed how Rosie would react to measles, or envision her developing a serious complication like encephalitis on top of pneumonia.

  But still, I couldn’t help but feel that anything would have been better than this.

  I breathed out, hoping to get back on track. “So, that’s where we are. Even in the very best-case scenario, Rosie will require extreme levels of care and might be in the hospital for months. I’m a single-income earner, currently out of work, unpaid. Once the statutory period runs out, I don’t know what I’ll do, but in the meantime I have bills to pay and a very sick daughter to attend to. I suppose I just feel—” I shifted uncomfortably “—and in particular your cousin feels, that all of this could have been prevented had the other party not sent her infectious child to school.”

  There, I’d said it. I’d uttered the words out loud. I’d blamed someone other than myself for what had happened to Rosie. I thought it would feel liberating, but instead it felt...wrong.

  Declan exhaled deeply. “Well. It’s a tricky one. An action like this would be based primarily on negligence.” He tapped his pen on the edge of the legal pad. “And to succeed in a negligence claim, the plaintiff, in this case you on behalf of your daughter, would need to establish various proofs. One is that the defendant—the other parent—owed the plaintiff a duty of care. Another is that the defendant breached that duty of care, that the plaintiff sustained injuries and or losses—which you’ve just outlined—and, finally, that the defendants negligence was the proximate cause of the plaintiff’s injuries and losses.”

  I nodded, trying to take it all in.

  “Point one is a matter of law to be decided by a judge,” he went on. “The relevant concepts that would be taken into consideration would be those of reasonable foreseeability and what solicitors know as ‘the neighbor principle.’” He exhaled and sat forward in his chair. “The concept of the neighbor principle is defined as, and I quote, ‘those to whom a duty of care might be expected to be owed, would be those so closely and directly affected by their actions that they ought reasonably to have them in consideration when directing their mind to the acts or omissions that are being called into question.’” He looked at me. “It’s legal speak, so all a bit gobbledygook, I know. But do you follow?”

  I nodded. He was basically saying that if you were aware that something you did might affect someone vulnerable, you needed to take that into account before you did that thing that would affect them.

  “In your situation, Kate, you would have to establish that the other parents knew or ought reasonably to have known that their failure to vaccinate would cause a risk to other children. Ultimately, if a duty of care was held to exist, then the remainder of the case would turn on the facts. For example, knowingly sending a child to school while in an infectious state clinically could ground the proposition that this was unreasonable behavior.”

  Declan turned the pen in his huge hands as he continued to outline his reasoning.

  “But if a judge decides that no duty of care is owed, then the case fails at that first hurdle. To my mind, if a duty of care is owed, then the other facts are arguable; in the legal world, it’s described as a prima facie—an arguable case to be made on behalf of you, the plaintiff. And I’ll be honest with you, Kate, if what you’re saying is true and the sequence of events happened exactly as you described and, more importantly, you have a witness, your friend Lucy, willing to testify that yes, Mrs. Cooper knowingly and intentionally sent her child to school aware that she was infectious, then it seems to me that there is a willful-negligence issue at play here. What we need to ascertain is—and perhaps this is for a judge to decide—did Mrs. Cooper fully assess the potential outcome of her actions or, in this scenario, inaction? And does negligence in this situation extend to not just sending a sick child to school, but failing to vaccinate the child at all?”

  My eyes flickered upward, surprised. “So you do think the Coopers might have a case to answer?” This surprised me; I’d assumed once Declan heard everything that he’d laugh me out of the office.

  But no, he was taking this seriously. Very seriously.

  “The law is a strange thing, Kate. Everything is open to argument and interpretation. And while of course there’s lots more to tease out in this situation, for the moment, I suggest you go home and think about the implications of actually going ahead with something like this. I’m guessing that you’re not here exactly of your own volition.”

  “Well, no, as you say, your cousin can be...persuasive, but I was so angry the other night when Rosie almost died. And Madeleine...the other mum...” I trailed off, not wanting to tell him that seeing Clara’s mother on TV blathering happily about child safety or lack thereof had set me off. “When Christine told me that you were prepared to talk to me, I decided I might as well at least have the conversation. To get her off my back, if nothing else,” I added lightly.

  But Declan seemed to think it was all perfectly normal and straightforward. “Well, from a legal point of view, I’m already envisioning how such a case could be framed. Naturally, I need to examine precedent, and carry out some further investigation of my own, but if you’re asking if there’s something there, then I’d have to answer yes—on the civil side, certainly, as of course there’s nothing criminal here. But, Kate, if you were considering this as a quick-fix answer to your financial problems, I should warn you, civil cases can take years to come before the courts.”

  It’s not just that, I thought, remembering how arrogant and cavalier Madeleine Cooper had come across on that TV show.

  Based on what Declan was saying now, the woman had recklessly put not only Rosie, but the whole school—maybe even the entire community—in danger. What if Clara had come into contact with an unvaccinated newborn, or any other vulnerable people? And who was to say that she hadn’t?

  I’d thought about it long and hard since Friday and kept coming back to the same conclusion: Madeleine Cooper needed a wake-up call.

  She needed to know that you don’t get to make a career out of being irresponsible, and that the choices you made had serious consequences, affected other people’s lives.

  “It’s also worth considering that situations like this can be hard, especially in small towns,” Declan went on. “Any action that pits neighbor against neighbor is likely to spark a variety of opinions—including some negative ones. Would you be prepared for something like that?”

  I gulped. Of course, this was one of the initial reasons I’d been so reluctant to pursue anything like this at all.

  “I know what you’re saying, and honestly, I’m still so taken aback that you think there might actually be something there that I haven’t even thought about the possible ramifications, bad or otherwise.”

  But now it seemed I would have to. Should I seriously consider this, consider taking the Coopers to court for what they’d visited on Rosie?

  The old me would have immediately said no way. But something had changed in me in the early hours of Friday morning, I knew that. Seeing my daughter come so close to death had altered me in ways I couldn’t quite explain.

  I’d almost lost Rosie
then, and by some miracle that hadn’t happened, not that night anyway.

  But the problem was—and this was something I wasn’t yet able to process—as things stood, I still didn’t know if I was going to lose her anyway.

  And there was no way I would allow Madeleine Cooper to get away with that.

  Declan sat quietly in his chair, watching me, as if he knew I was coming to a decision of sorts.

  “Like I said, I really think that you should go off and think seriously about this. And, in the meantime, I believe I should also do my due diligence. I never want to lead any client, or potential client, down the wrong path. As far as I’m concerned, Kate, this is a two-way street. You have to be comfortable with me, but I also have to be comfortable with you. Sound fair?”

  I nodded. There was something inherently reassuring about this approach, as if a partnership of sorts was being proposed.

  And, for the first time in weeks, I began to feel a little more in control.

  “And while you do consider everything and really think about the angles, is there anyone else who can give you a hand—with the day-to-day stuff?” he inquired. He was obviously referring to my situation, my home life and whether I had anyone—besides Lucy or Christine—to lean on. It was an honest question—and a simple one to answer, really—but it hit me like a truck.

  No, there wasn’t anyone like that. My husband was dead, I had no siblings, my parents were elderly and had a life of their own some three hundred kilometers away. Notwithstanding the fact that I was almost forty years old and I couldn’t—wouldn’t—expect anyone else to upend their lives just to help me out.

  I crossed my hands on the polished oak table and stared at them. These hands had been doing everything on their own for the last two years. Because they had to.

  I straightened my shoulders and looked Declan right in the eye. “I’m not a victim,” I said simply.

  I wasn’t sure if that answered his question. But it certainly answered the one that had been bumping around my own head lately.

  Declan’s arresting eyes studied my face. His gaze was intent, steady. “I wouldn’t have thought for a second that you were.”

  19

  Realizing that the sun was setting in Glencree and his office was growing dark, Declan reached forward and flipped on the lamp perched on his desk corner. He quickly pulled back the sleeve of his shirt to check the time and then rubbed his eyes tiredly.

  Ever since Kate O’Hara had left his office that morning, he had immersed himself in searching for precedent on cases similar to what had been presented to him.

  This could be a monster project—emotionally, legally, politically, even. It had all of the touch points of something that could be big—precedent-setting, in fact. The kind of case he’d dreamed about when he was a student.

  But instead of groundbreaking, law-changing civil work that had been Declan’s passion, he’d been stuck on conveyancing, land-registry technicalities and the endless right-of-way issues that so many Irish people relished fighting over. Granted, that had always been the bread and butter of his father’s practice and it paid the bills, so Declan couldn’t complain, but for once he longed to work on something that really got the synapses firing.

  Kate O’Hara’s situation could be it.

  “Knock, knock” came a voice from the doorway, his sister Alison—a twenty-one-year-old UCD law student in her final year, who helped out now and again to bulk up her experience. “Why are you still here this late of an evening?”

  Declan pulled his gaze away from his computer screen and turned to face her. “Just doing a bit of research. That’s all.”

  “On what?” Alison asked, entering the room. Her brow was furrowed; she was obviously trying to figure out what pressing boundary dispute he would be working on so late.

  “It’s a case, a potential one. Hey, remember when you were in the States last year and that MMR vaccination trial was going on?”

  “The one where the dad took the mother to court for not vaccinating? Of course. Why do you ask?” Her eyes widened with interest. “Something similar on the cards here? Wow.”

  “Kind of, but not the same. Christine brought in a woman from Knockroe today. Her daughter wasn’t vaccinated and now she’s in a coma. Measles.”

  “What? Why wasn’t the poor thing vaccinated?” Alison asked, making a distasteful face. She reached into her pocket and extracted a rubber band in order to pull her jet-black hair up into a messy ponytail. “Don’t tell me, the dad’s the anti-vaxxer.”

  “No, that’s not it. Seems her daughter couldn’t be vaccinated when she was a baby due to allergies. But another girl got sick and passed the disease on to Kate’s daughter at school, and it seems the other family are the anti-vaxxers.”

  Alison pursed her lips in disapproval. “Unbelievable. What is wrong with people? You know, I’ve always said it was only a matter of time until something like this happened. But wow, Declan, sounds like an amazing case! Can I help—please? I would give my right arm to—”

  Declan put his hands on the desk and tapped his fingers as if playing an invisible drum. “It’s not even a case yet, though I do think there’s something there. Apparently, the other mother knowingly sent the kid to school while infectious—not that she intended any harm, I’m sure, but—”

  “Willful negligence. But how can we prove that she did so—”

  “Alison, hold your horses, we’re not proving—or indeed trying—anything. The mother, Kate, was here purely on an exploratory mission. To be honest, I don’t think the possibility of legal action had even entered her mind until Christine got in her ear...”

  “Good old coz. If there’s a tile loose on the path, you can bet Christine will find someone to stumble over it.”

  “Stop it, she’s not that bad. But, for once, I’m thinking she might be right with this one. Kate’s daughter almost died, and she still might. And when you think it could have been prevented...”

  “Jesus, this is why I hate these freakin’ hippy conspiracy theorists. You know me, I’m all about personal liberty, but honestly, they should all be rounded up and forced to take a needle themselves. Grr.”

  Declan had to smile. “Don’t hold back on saying what you really think, Allie. One thing’s for sure, though, with something like this, there are bound to be some very strong opinions on either side.”

  “It’ll be amazing! Parents up and down the country will be going nuts over it. The media’ll be salivating, the Health Service will be hand-wringing and the internet will probably explode! Oh, Declan, you have to do it.”

  He sighed deeply and ran his hands through his hair. Glancing out the window, he said, “It’s not that. I wouldn’t be looking at this as a way of raising my profile. It’s something else. I don’t know how to describe it...” He swallowed hard. Declan especially didn’t want to try to explain this to his sister. “It’s the mother, Kate.” He looked down as he said the name and then glanced up to meet Alison’s eyes. She was giving him a warning look. “No, it’s not like that.”

  He knew that she was thinking in the most basic of interpretations: that Declan was attracted to Kate. Not that Kate was unattractive, but the woman was going through unimaginable suffering.

  “Obviously, she’s really vulnerable at the moment, but there’s something else, too. She’s tough. And honestly, she’s been dealt a shit hand.” He recounted to Alison all about Kate’s husband, her job situation, the whole nine yards. “I want to help her. And for some reason I sort of feel...responsible...for helping her get out of this. She said earlier that she wasn’t a victim, and I believe her. I just wonder how many times you can get kicked when you’re down before that spirit becomes broken. What’s more, she didn’t come in here guns blazing and looking for immediate recompense the way that most people do when they feel they’ve been wronged. If anything
, she’s skeptical and hesitant about the process. And I do feel that she—and certainly her daughter—truly have been wronged in this situation. And I want her to feel that she has someone in her corner. If this is what she wants to do, that is.”

  Declan sat back in his chair and cupped his chin in his hand, trying to decide if there was more to say. He was struggling to find the words.

  Alison raised her eyebrows. “I’d forgotten about your Knight in Shining Armor complex.”

  He waved off her words. “No, it’s not like that. I really do feel that this is definitely a case worth exploring. It sounds like Kate’s heading for a tough future, assuming her daughter comes out of this even halfway OK. And based on what I learned about her this morning—” he paused a little, realizing he was speaking his thoughts aloud at this point “—I think she’s going to need an outlet—a distraction of sorts—something to work toward to help her get through it. I could be wrong, but she just strikes me as that kind of person.”

  Alison shook her head. “You know, Dec, Dad always said you weren’t suited to law and, for once, I think he was right. Too much of a bleedin’ heart.”

  20

  Madeleine honestly could not believe it.

  She twirled a finger through one of her curls as she listened delightedly on the other end of the phone line. The woman’s name was Joanne, and she was an editor for one of the big UK book publishers with offices in Ireland. And she (along with everyone else in the company, apparently) wanted to publish Mad Mum’s articles in book form.

  “We’re all just really big fans of Mad Mum and we would absolutely love it if you would consider publishing all your blog posts together in one collection with us.”

  Madeleine forced herself to breathe. She was so excited she thought she was going to fall down. “Wow,” she replied. “That is...that is just incredible. I’m a little taken aback, to be honest. This isn’t a joke or something?”