by Tina Duncan
Still waiting.
Alex had never felt so helpless. Tension compressed his spine until it felt half its normal length.
Katrina sat as still as a statue beside him.
Alex did the exact opposite. He sat forwards. Then backwards. Then forwards again. Rested his head in his hands. Raked his hands through his hair and around the back of his neck.
Finally, he’d had enough.
He jumped to his feet, hands clenched tightly at his sides. ‘I can’t stand this! I have to find out what’s going on.’
Katrina didn’t answer him. She didn’t look capable of it.
The look on her face gutted him. Swallowing hard, Alex gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before striding to the nurses’ station, where he demanded to see the doctor.
‘I want answers!’ he said, when Dr Niven finally appeared.
The look she gave him was measured and calm. ‘I know you do. So do I. But we have to wait while pathology runs the tests. It shouldn’t be too long now.’
Alex shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He knew he was being unreasonable but he couldn’t help it. ‘I just—’
The doctor placed a hand on his arm. ‘I know. You don’t have to explain.’
‘Alex…?’
The voice came from behind him.
Alex spun on his heel. He blinked. Then blinked again. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Because standing in front of him were his mother and brother.
‘Mum. Michael. What on earth are you doing here?’
Audrey Webber raised a brow, hands folded in front of her thickened waistline. ‘We’re here to support you, of course.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Alex shook his head, as if the action could clear his confusion. ‘How did you even know I was here?’
This time it was Michael who answered. ‘It was on the news. They said your daughter had been admitted to hospital. Is it true? Do you have a daughter?’
Alex nodded. Someone must have recognised him and leaked the story to the press.
What a terrible way for his family to have found out. He opened his mouth to apologise but his mother got in first.
‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ She held up a hand. ‘No, don’t answer that. It’s not important right now. How is she?’
‘She’s—’
‘Alex.’
This time it was Katrina’s voice saying his name. Alex froze. For a heartbeat he didn’t move. Then he spun towards the doorway.
‘What’s happened?’ He had to force the words past the constriction in his throat. ‘Is she worse?’ he asked, not at all sure he wanted to know the answer.
Even before she spoke Alex noticed Katrina’s shaky smile. ‘Sam’s started to respond to the treatment. The doctor is with her now.’
The relief was so powerful that his insides sagged. ‘Thank God for that!’ He turned to his mother and brother. ‘I have to go, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
Audrey pointed to the row of grey visitors’ chairs similar to the ones he and Katrina had been sitting on for so many hours. ‘You go and do what you have to do. Michael and I will wait here.’
Emotion rose up inside him like a tidal wave. Sweeping an arm around each of them he pulled them close. ‘Thank you,’ he said in a choked voice. ‘It means a lot to me that you’re here.’
He meant every word. His mother’s support in particular went straight to his heart, and he found himself blinking back tears as he strode to Katrina’s side.
He held her hand tightly as they approached the doctor.
‘The diagnosis of meningitis has been confirmed,’ Dr Niven said. ‘That’s the bad news. The good news is that the antibiotics have started to do their job. Sam’s vital signs are improving.’
‘How long before she’s out of danger?’ Alex asked. Although Samantha’s response to the antibiotics was fantastic news, he didn’t want to count his blessings too soon.
‘Another twelve hours should do it.’
Alex nodded.
‘I notice you have other family who have arrived. Please keep the visitors to two at a time.’ The doctor placed a hand on Alex’s arm. ‘You saved your daughter’s life with your quick action. It would have been too late if you’d left it to morning,’ she said before departing.
‘Oh, Alex,’ Katrina said ‘If you hadn’t…’
He didn’t want Katrina thinking about what might have happened. He didn’t want to go there himself.
‘But I did,’ he reassured her quickly.
And he always would.
The thought, which had ridden immediately on the back of the first, almost knocked the legs out from under him.
He felt as if he’d driven smack-bang into a brick wall at high speed. ‘Shattered’ would be an understatement.
He reeled backwards.
Katrina caught his arm and guided him towards a seat. ‘Alex! What is it?’
For a minute, he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even breathe. The sound of his blood pounding at his temples was deafening.
‘Should I get the doctor?’ Katrina asked worriedly beside him.
‘No.’ He grabbed her arm. ‘Just give me a minute.’
She nodded and held his hand.
He dragged in a breath. Then another. And slowly his heartbeat returned to normal.
He flung himself against the rigid back of the chair. ‘God, I’ve been such a fool!’
Katrina shook her head, green eyes clearly confused. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I know you don’t.’ He looked at the bed then back at Katrina. ‘I was petrified I was going to hurt her.’
She gasped, her body jerking against his side. Her eyes narrowed on his face. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘My father’s blood runs through my veins. Something made him into a monster. I kept on thinking: what’s to say the same thing can’t happen to me?’
Katrina shook her head vehemently, her grip on his hand so tight her nails dug in to his flesh. ‘It wouldn’t happen.’
‘I know that now. But for a long time I thought it could.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘Is that why you had the vasectomy?’
Alex nodded. ‘My father was always telling me how much alike we were. Taunting me with it. And it’s true; we’re similar in lots of ways. I grew up believing that I’d turn out just like him.’
‘That’s abuse in its own right,’ Katrina said thoughtfully. ‘But, still, a vasectomy was a rather drastic measure to take when there was absolutely no evidence to support your theory,’ she said with a frown.
His gut twisted tight. And then again, even tighter. ‘There was evidence. Or, at least, I thought there was.’
‘Tell me.’
Alex ran a hand over his face. ‘Back then I was full of rage over what my father was doing to us. One day at school, my best friend said something I didn’t like. To this day, I can’t even remember what it was. I punched him in the face—so hard that I broke his nose.’
‘Oh, Alex,’ she said, her voice drenched with sadness.
Alex didn’t want her sympathy. But he did want her understanding. ‘But do you know what the worst thing was?’
She shook her head.
‘The worst thing was that on one level I enjoyed it. Oh, I was sorry that I’d hurt Jason, because we were mates and he was one of the few people who made my life bearable. But on another level it felt good—hitting him got rid of some of the pent-up anger. And suddenly I saw my father’s face when he hit me and I wondered whether I had the same look on my face when I hit Jason. And I thought: it’s really happening. I’m turning out exactly like my father. That was the day I decided to have the vasectomy. It seemed to be the only way to break the cycle.’
‘And that’s why you’ve been holding a part of yourself back with Sam during the last month,’ Katrina murmured as if she were speaking to herself.
Alex frowned. ‘I admit I’ve been cautious. And now you can understand why. But I didn’t think it
was noticeable.’
‘It wasn’t entirely. I sensed something wasn’t quite right, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Until tonight.’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘When you carried Sam into our bedroom I suddenly realised you were never entirely at ease with her. Not the way you should be. After what you’ve just told me, my guess is that you were being over-cautious.’
Alex frowned again and then shook his head. ‘You could be right. I’m a fool.’
He didn’t believe in fate. He preferred to believe that a man could shape his own destiny. So why had he been stupid enough to believe that genetics could override his true nature?
‘I’m not going to disagree with you,’ she said, once again wielding the words as if they were a plank of wood she was hitting around his head.
The corners of his mouth turned up. ‘Little Miss Confrontation strikes again, does she?’
‘You’d better believe it. I can understand why you might have thought you could turn out like your father in the beginning. You were in an untenable situation. But, later, you should have known there wasn’t a chance of it happening.’
‘You sound very sure.’
‘That’s because I am. I know you.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘Tell me something.’
His eyes narrowed on her face. ‘If I can.’
She waited for a moment before asking softly, ‘Did you try to take some of your brother’s beatings for him?’
Alex gasped. He couldn’t help it. ‘How did you know that?’
‘You mentioned that you’d tried to protect him. I simply guessed the rest.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Do you really think a man who’s prepared to do that would ever hurt anyone, let alone a defenceless child?’
Alex shook his head. ‘You’re a lot wiser than me.’
‘No. You’ve just been a bit too harsh with yourself; I believe that’s a common trait of high achievers.’ She nodded towards the doorway. ‘I think you may have been a bit harsh with your mother, too. What say you introduce us?’
Alex clasped her hand in his and led her out to the waiting area. On the way he sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
Not just because Samantha was on the mend. But also for giving him Katrina.
Once he’d only seen her beauty, but now he could see her strength and intelligence.
Alex admired her more and more with every day that passed. If he had chosen a mother for his child, he could not have chosen more perfectly.
His two girls.
His two special girls.
How could a man get so lucky?
For the next twelve days they kept a constant vigil at Samantha’s bedside, taking it in turns to eat, shower and sleep.
On the third day, Alex found himself alone with his mother in the hospital cafeteria, where they had queued to buy coffees to take back upstairs.
That morning Samantha had been pronounced out of danger and at Alex’s insistence had been moved into her own private room.
‘I meant what I said the other day,’ Alex said. ‘I really appreciate you being here for me.’
Audrey’s eyes—the same eyes that Alex, Michael and Samantha had all inherited—met his. ‘Like I wasn’t before? Is that what you’re saying?’
Alex shifted uncomfortably. ‘Mum…’
She laid a hand on his arm. ‘It’s OK, Alex. I know what you think, and I understand. But just remember that your memories are those of a young, frightened boy, and an angry and just-as-frightened teenager.’
Alex took her arm and led her to an empty table. Pulling out one of the inevitably grey plastic chairs that dotted the public areas of the hospital he motioned for her to sit down.
When they were both seated, he said, ‘Tell me.’
Alex wasn’t sure why he was prepared to listen to his mother’s version of events after so many years.
Maybe it was because Samantha’s illness had reminded him that life was short.
Maybe it was because he’d made such a terrible mistake when Katrina had told him she was pregnant and he was prepared to accept he might have made a similar mistake with his mother.
And maybe it was because realising he was nothing like his father had somehow had a cathartic effect. It certainly felt as if a void had opened up between him and the past. The memories were still there, but they couldn’t hurt him any more.
They talked for over an hour. When they finally left the cafeteria, Alex felt they’d taken the first tentative steps towards putting the past behind them.
On the eighth day, Alex found himself alone with Michael at Samantha’s bedside.
Just that morning Samantha had given them her first smile since falling ill. Katrina had cried; Alex had felt like joining her.
Michael gestured to his niece with a bony hand. ‘Why didn’t you tell us about her, bro?’
Alex shook his head. ‘I’m not sure. I guess I didn’t want to taint her with our past.’
Michael punched him on the arm. ‘Hey, aren’t you the one who keeps on telling me the past is in the past and that we should leave it there and move on?’
Alex nodded gravely. ‘I am. I guess I’m not good at taking my own advice.’
Then, without planning on doing it, Alex found himself admitting to Michael what he had so far only admitted to himself and Katrina—that he had been terrified of turning out like their father.
Michael’s reaction was to laugh his head off. When he finally managed to speak, he said, ‘You’re as screwed up as I am.’
Looking at his brother long and hard, Alex shook his head. ‘I’m not any more. What about you?’
They both knew Alex was referring to Michael’s drug addiction.
For the first time since the conversation started, Michael looked away. ‘It’s not that easy, bro.’
‘I know it’s not. But promise me you’ll think about it.’
Michael nodded.
It wasn’t a very enthusiastic nod, but it was still the first time Michael had agreed to consider getting help. Although he knew there was still a long way to go, Alex knew this was a hugely positive step forward. He punched his brother on the arm. ‘Good man.’
Just then Katrina came in and shooed Michael out.
A feeling of peace settled over Alex. Katrina was his rock. He didn’t know how he would have got through this ordeal without her at his side.
In fact, he didn’t know what he would do without her, full stop.
On the thirteenth day, Samantha was well enough to go home.
The morning after their return from the hospital, Katrina woke slowly.
It was a pleasant change to have slept in a real bed. For almost two weeks she’d slept in chairs or spare hospital-beds. Once or twice she’d even slept cradled in Alex’s arms.
Even before she opened sleep-drenched eyes she was frowning.
Where was Alex?
She knew he wasn’t beside her. She didn’t need to look; she could feel his absence. They normally slept wrapped in each other’s arms—quite literally—legs entangled, her head in the crook of his shoulder. His hands holding her close.
Pulling on her robe, Katrina padded out of the bedroom to investigate.
She found Alex lying on the sofa with Samantha sprawled on his chest. Having recently discovered her own hands, the baby was taking great delight in trying to poke a finger in her father’s eye.
Seeing the two of them like this made Katrina’s heart melt in her chest.
The barriers between father and daughter had finally come tumbling down.
Alex was no longer hanging back; the distance she’d felt between them no longer existed.
This was what she’d wanted from day one—for Alex to be a father to his daughter.
And what a wonderful father he was. Gentle and caring, and at the same time strong and protective.
There was only one thing that could make life even more perfect. And that was if Alex loved her.
Once she’d thought that was an
impossibility. Now there was room for hope.
Alex had claimed not to believe in love, but since then he’d admitted to loving his daughter. Surely that meant there was a chance he could learn to love her too?
Remembering how Alex had acted while they were at the hospital, Katrina was sure there was.
He had been her rock. Supportive. Encouraging. He’d been there to cling to when she’d needed it. And he’d been there to pep her up when she was feeling down.
He obviously cared about her. Wasn’t it possible that his feelings could develop into love?
Katrina certainly hoped so.
She was about to tiptoe away when Alex spotted her.
He was relaxed and smiling. ‘Good morning.’
Katrina smiled back. ‘Good morning.’ She gestured to the baby. ‘I wondered why it was so quiet.’
Alex grinned. ‘Sam woke around six, but you were out for the count so I decided to let you sleep. She’s been fed, she’s been changed and we’ve just been playing.’
Katrina smothered a laugh. ‘Have you, now?’
‘We have. She’s very clever, aren’t you, Princess?’
Samantha’s answer was to smile and gurgle her complete agreement.
‘Well, since you have everything under control, I might as well go and have a shower.’
‘No. Don’t do that.’ Alex swung his legs to the floor and sat up. The smile dropped from his face. ‘I want to talk to you about something.’
‘You sound serious.’
‘I am.’ He patted the cushion beside him. ‘Come and sit down.’
Katrina did as he asked. ‘OK. Shoot.’
She wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what came next.
‘I think we should get married.’
Katrina just stared at him.
Her insides stilled at the same time as her heart took off at a gallop.
Licking her lips and dragging in a breath, she said, ‘Say that again.’
He didn’t hesitate. ‘You heard me—I think we ought to get married.’
The breath locked tight in her lungs. She’d heard him right. ‘Why?’ she asked.
It was the question that stood out amongst all the other thoughts tumbling through her brain.
