The Greatest Gift

by Rachael Johns

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Nick said again.

  ‘What happened?’ Jasper heard himself speak, but didn’t feel as if he had.

  Nick expelled a heavy breath. ‘She was heading home from Newcastle I guess, and another vehicle was travelling on the wrong side of the road. It looks like she tried to swerve but the two vehicles collided.’

  He went quiet again and the three of them stood there, no one saying a word. Jasper stared at the ground, trying to wrap his head around what the police officers were telling him, but it didn’t make any sense. Claire couldn’t be dead. He remembered her smile and the spring in her step as she’d left the shed that morning—no, she was far too full of life to die.

  After a while, he realised Nick was speaking again. ‘There’s a tiny bit of good news though.’

  Jasper’s head snapped up to look at the sergeant. ‘What?’

  Nick offered a small smile. ‘The paramedics were able to get Claire to hospital quickly and the doctors managed to successfully deliver your baby. You have a little girl. She’s in a critical condition, but at thirty weeks, they say she has a fighting chance.’

  Chills rolled over Jasper’s skin. My baby? He didn’t give a damn about the baby.

  What good was a baby without Claire?

  ‘Is there anyone you want us to call?’ Nick said. ‘Your parents? We can take you to the hospital now to see your little girl if you like. We’ll also need someone to formally identify Claire but if you’d rather not see her like that, then we can ask her parents or use her dental records. Would you like us to have some officers go round and inform her parents or would you prefer to do that yourself?’

  Jasper’s hands clenched into fists. His head filled with sudden pain. Too many questions. He could only focus on one.

  ‘Identify her?’ Hope flickered inside him. Perhaps this was some cruel mistake. ‘There’s a possibility it’s not her?’

  Nick and Morrissey exchanged a look and then both turned back to him.

  ‘No, I’m sorry, I don’t think there is,’ Nick said with a sombre shake of his head. ‘Unfortunately this is necessary protocol, but she was driving a car licensed to you and the identification in her purse matched. And then there’s the fact that she was pregnant.’

  ‘I need to see her.’ He couldn’t believe this was true until he’d seen it with his own eyes—and if it was, then he wanted to be the one to identify her. As her husband, it was his duty. He couldn’t pass the task to his in-laws like some sort of coward. ‘I’ll get my car keys.’

  ‘No. We’ll take you,’ Nick said. ‘You shouldn’t drive after such a shock.’

  If it weren’t for the police, he wouldn’t have even bothered to lock the door, but Morrissey gently suggested he do so, which reminded him to turn the oven off as well. At least he wouldn’t be returning to a burnt down house, although right now his home was the least of his worries.

  The drive to the hospital was a blur. Nothing felt real. Nick tried to talk to him for a while but Jasper ignored him and in the end he gave up. Jasper turned his phone over and over in his hand—toying with the idea of calling Claire’s parents and his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, not yet. He didn’t want to worry them until he knew for sure. And he didn’t know how he’d be able to make such a call, to actually say the words.

  Finally they were there. Jasper followed Nick and Morrissey into the hospital and down a number of corridors before they stopped at a closed door. A moment later it opened and a man dressed in scrubs appeared as if he’d had insider knowledge that they’d arrived.

  Nick nodded at the man. ‘Hello, I’m Senior Sergeant Nick Gilbert and this is Jasper Lombard. We’ve come to identify Claire Lombard.’

  The man nodded, some words were spoken but they might as well have been gobbledegook for all Jasper understood them. He just wanted to see her, wanted to put this surreal moment behind him.

  Constable Morrissey stayed in the corridor but Nick accompanied Jasper and the man into the small cold room. A stark hospital gurney was in the middle, its head against one wall, and lying on the table was his wife.

  Jasper’s mouth fell open and his hand flew to his chest. The cold he’d felt back at the house had nothing on the ice that filled him now. He felt Nick’s hand on his shoulder but he shook him off and took a step towards Claire. Even as he gazed down at her beautiful face all bruised and scratched up, he couldn’t believe his eyes. She looked like Claire but the spark had left her. She wore a hospital surgical gown and as his eyes moved lower, he swallowed at the sight of her no longer pregnant body.

  He’d gotten so used to that beautiful bump, and the way she caressed it near on constantly, that she didn’t look right without it. Instinctively he reached out and touched her hand. It was cool, but then again she’d always had cold hands—they’d often joked about it. She’d spout the old saying, ‘cold hands, warm heart,’ and he’d retort, ‘cold hands, selfish heart.’

  He hadn’t meant it—Claire didn’t have a selfish bone in her body.

  Interlocking his fingers with hers, he waited for her to squeeze them as she’d often done when they held hands, but there was no such response. He had to be dreaming, having a nightmare. If she really was dead, he’d be a mess, but although his eyes hurt, he couldn’t cry. He felt nothing.

  This couldn’t be his wife lying before him. It just couldn’t be.

  Yet even as his heart tried to hold onto her, his head knew the truth. In a matter of moments his whole world had blown apart. And not just his world. He thought of Claire’s parents, her brother, Polly. Would it be best they hear this on the phone from him or, as Nick had offered, from a police officer face-to-face? He had no idea.

  If only he could ask Claire, he thought, gazing into her beautiful face—she always knew how to handle sticky situations.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart.’ Although he still didn’t cry, emotion shuddered through his body. He dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers and then wrapped his arms around her lifeless body. Even though logically he knew this wasn’t his Claire anymore, he never wanted to let go. He wished he could crawl onto the table beside her, close his eyes and never wake up.

  He’d loved her from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her; how was he supposed to go on without her at his side?

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Harper had never hated rush hour traffic more than she did at that moment. The Pacific Motorway was clogged, cars bumper-to-bumper, torrential rain not doing anything to help the situation. They’d already been in the car for half an hour and had barely made it out of Sydney. Hitching a ride on a snail would be faster.

  ‘Hey,’ Willow spoke soothingly from the driver’s seat, ‘do you want me to put some music on? Maybe it’ll help …’

  ‘What?’ Harper snapped at her sister. ‘Help me relax?’ She shook her head. ‘The only thing that will help me relax is if the damn traffic evaporates.’

  Willow sighed as a car somewhere beeped its horn.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Harper said. ‘I shouldn’t be snapping at you. Thank you for driving me. Thank you for being here for me.’

  ‘As if I’d be anywhere else. And there’s no way I’d let you drive after the shock you’ve just had.’

  Silence hung in the air a few long moments and then Harper sniffed, digging another tissue out of her handbag. She wasn’t usually a crier but since Willow’s phone call she hadn’t been able to stop the tears.

  ‘I just can’t believe it,’ she whispered. ‘Why Claire? Why now, when she and Jasper were so close to getting the family they craved? Honestly, Willow, you’ve never met a more loving couple. And Claire would have made the perfect mother—she’s kind, caring, good with flowers and animals, she can cook and sew …’ Aware that she sounded like she was describing a nineteen-fifties housewife, she added, ‘But she’s also really smart. They both are. They might not have degrees—but they’re big readers and in the end, none of that matters because they wanted to be parents more than anything
and this just absolutely sucks.’

  Willow reached across and squeezed her hand. ‘There’s no logic to life my love, but at least the baby’s still got Jasper, and at least he has the baby to live for.’

  The surprising news of the baby’s survival from Miriam had been bittersweet—and she hadn’t really had time to process it. Before she could reply to this, Harper’s mobile sounded with the ringtone programmed for Samuel’s number. ‘Oh God,’ she said as she stared at the screen, remembering she was supposed to be getting ready for his first dinner with the partners as a partner.

  ‘You going to answer that?’ Willow asked.

  She was tempted to let it go to voicemail as her call to him had gone that afternoon, but he’d only worry when she didn’t turn up at home. He deserved to know what was happening.

  ‘Hi, Samuel,’ she said, her voice still sounding choked.

  ‘Where are you? You’re supposed to be here getting ready to go out.’

  ‘I tried to call you this afternoon. Something terrible has happened.’

  ‘What’s wrong? Is it your sister?’ he asked, his tone softer now.

  Harper glanced at Willow as she inched the car slowly forward. ‘No, Willow’s fine. She’s sitting right next to me. I’m not sure if you’ve heard the news, but …’ She sniffed, the tears coming all over again. ‘A pregnant woman died in a car accident this afternoon. It was Claire.’

  He took a moment to respond and she wondered if he even knew who she was talking about. ‘Shit. That’s terrible. Poor Jasper.’

  ‘I know.’ She sniffed again and wiped her eyes. ‘But I guess the good news is that the paramedics and doctors miraculously managed to deliver the baby. Claire had a little girl.’

  ‘So Jasper’s okay? Was he in the car? Was he driving?’

  She shook her head and then realised he couldn’t see. ‘No, apparently there was a car chase. The police were after some guy on ice who’d stolen a car and he entered the Expressway the wrong way trying to get away from them. They aborted the chase but the guy crashed into Claire.’

  ‘Was he killed as well?’ he asked.

  ‘No. Apparently he’s suffered serious injuries but they’re not life-threatening. Bastard.’

  ‘I wonder if he has representation yet.’

  ‘What?’ Harper couldn’t believe her ears. Here she’d been thinking Samuel might have half a heart for Jasper and all he’d been thinking about was professional opportunity. ‘Who the hell cares? The other guy deserves to die for what he’s done.’

  ‘You don’t know what led him to a drug addiction, Harper.’ Samuel spoke to her as if she were a naughty child. ‘Anyway, never mind. When will you be home? We have to leave soon.’

  Never mind? She felt her blood boiling beneath her skin. ‘I’m not going out and what I’ve told you is confidential. The media doesn’t know any of it yet and Miriam could get in big trouble for telling me, so please don’t breathe a word of it to anyone.’

  ‘What do you mean you’re not going out?’

  ‘I’m on my way to Newcastle to see Jasper and the baby. Willow’s driving me.’

  ‘You’re what?’ His voice was so loud she pulled the phone away from her ear. ‘I need you beside me tonight. Don’t you know how important this evening is? You barely knew those people.’

  She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm—or as close to calm as was possible in this hellish situation. What about what she needed? ‘I’m sorry, Samuel, but I wouldn’t be good company tonight anyway. I know you don’t understand; I might not have known Claire very long, but we went through something together that formed a bond I can’t explain and I need to go and offer Jasper my condolences.’ She also needed to see with her own eyes to believe that this nightmare was real.

  ‘You’re right,’ Samuel said. ‘I don’t understand.’ And then he disconnected the call.

  ‘Sometimes your husband can be a real dick,’ Willow said.

  Harper didn’t have the energy to defend him. ‘He’s a man. What do you expect?’

  She didn’t really think that—she knew more lovely men than otherwise and suspected a good husband would be offering to abandon his dinner and come with her at a time like this. Or at least show a little empathy. But emotionally wrung out as she was, she didn’t want to analyse her husband or her marriage right now.

  ‘Do you want to stop and get some dinner at a service station?’ Willow said, obviously deciding not to enter into such a discussion. ‘I need to get some petrol. It won’t be fancy but if you’re hungry …’

  ‘I’m not.’ Harper shook her head. ‘Maybe Samuel’s right? Maybe we are crazy driving all the way to Newcastle on a whim. I’m not family. Well, not exactly. Oh God, this is so damn complicated.’

  She buried her face in her hands. Their counsellor had never made them contemplate this scenario.

  ‘Forget Samuel,’ Willow said firmly. ‘Your first instinct was to go to Newcastle and I’m a big believer in following your gut. It’s when the head tries to butt in and reason that we start twisting ourselves into ridiculous knots. If the baby hadn’t lived, I’d tell you to send a sympathy card and give Jasper space to grieve, but you were planning on going to see the baby when it was born anyway, weren’t you? It’s up to you,’ she added before Harper could answer, ‘but if we go home now, will you spend all night wishing you went?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Harper’s stomach felt like it was twisting into one of those knots Willow had mentioned. She wasn’t sure what she could say or do to help Jasper, but something deep inside her told her she needed to go.

  ‘Then let’s get petrol and see how you’re feeling after a pit stop,’ Willow said as she pulled off the road into a service station.

  Harper sat numbly in the car while her sister filled it up. She didn’t even realise Willow had gone inside to pay until she returned with two cans of Coke and two Violet Crumbles. She handed one of each to Harper, then cracked her own can.

  ‘Might not be the healthiest dinner,’ she said, ‘but sugar is good for shock.’

  And Violet Crumbles were their childhood comfort food—when their mother was busy with her latest boyfriend, they sometimes used to steal money from her purse and buy them from the deli on the corner. Although Harper didn’t want to think about Laura right now. This was too stark a reminder of how many people out there didn’t deserve to have children, and the cruel contrast with those who did, but couldn’t.

  As they headed further out of Sydney, both the traffic and the weather eased and Harper found herself sharing her memories of the few times she’d met Claire.

  ‘She really does sound like a special person,’ Willow said. ‘Will you go to the funeral?’

  ‘Funeral?’ She tried the alien word on for size—it seemed wrong to be even talking about the possibility of a funeral for Claire. ‘I guess so. Yes, I think I will. I want to show Jasper that I care and I want their baby to one day know that I cared about her mother as well. I think it’ll be a big funeral. They have a large extended family and Claire seemed like the type of person to have a lot of friends.’

  ‘I’ll come with you as well if you want,’ Willow said, glancing across and offering a big-sisterly supportive smile.

  ‘Thank you. I guess we’ll both have to get time off work. I wonder when it’ll be?’

  After a while Willow steered the conversation to the more mundane—they talked about each other’s work, their shared surprise that Laura was still shacked up with the cowboy in Montana and the appalling state of world politics. Harper didn’t really care about any of it in that moment but she appreciated her sister’s efforts to help pass the time. Small talk comforted her in a way that silence wouldn’t have.

  Finally, they arrived at the hospital in Newcastle.

  ‘Do you want me to drop you off, park and come and find you or shall we go in together?’

  Harper blinked, suddenly realising she had no idea where to find Jasper. For an intelligent woman, she really hadn’t
thought any of this through.

  Her sister, reading her mind as she’d always been able to do, said, ‘I’d go to the neonatal ward and, if you can’t see him, ask someone.’

  Harper nodded. ‘Yes. Good plan. Let’s park and then go in together.’

  Willow took control as they entered the hospital—she read the necessary signs directing them where to go—but when they got to their destination, they came to another obstacle. The neonatal ward had the security of a palace; no one was getting in or out without permission from a stern-looking woman at the desk. Ignoring the people in the adjacent waiting room, Harper approached and cleared her throat.

  The woman looked up as if Harper’s arrival was a huge imposition. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Hi … My name is Harper Drummond, and … I’m hoping to see Jasper Lombard. I …’ How on earth could she explain this situation? She shouldn’t have come.

  ‘Are you the media?’ snapped the woman.

  ‘Yes.’ Harper blinked. ‘I mean no. Well, I am in the media but I’m here because … I heard that a baby was born this afternoon after Claire Lombard was brought in in a car accident and I’m the donor. The egg donor.’

  The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly thinking Harper had come up with an elaborate story to engineer her way into the situation. ‘Even if you are a friend of the family, it’s parents and grandparents only in to see our babies.’

  ‘But technically she is the mother,’ Willow interrupted.

  ‘Under Australian law, unless she was the surrogate—’ the woman glanced down at Harper’s perfectly flat abdomen, ‘—then she has no legal right to the baby and, as I said, only parents are allowed to see the baby. I’m sorry but suggest you give the family space at this difficult time.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ Harper put her hand out to stop her sister from saying anything more; the nurse or security guard or whatever she was had a point. She should not have come. ‘We’ll go. Thank you for your time. Come on, Willow.’