The journey fled past as if he’d stumbled on to some special fast train. Yet when he walked out of Cambridge station it was already dark: dark and still, as if it were very late.
The air was pleasantly cool against his skin, the night soft and gentle around him. Being free of the shivers was wonderful, though it was odd that the night was so much warmer than the day had been.
The hall and living-room lights were on when he let himself in. Someone was moving about the kitchen. He padded through the living room and peered around the door.
Tim was standing at the counter, glaring down at the floor tiles, looking exhausted and rumpled from his flight. Inexplicably the kitchen clock was set to 23.55.
‘Hi.’
Tim’s head jerked up. ‘Nick!’ Relief flooded his face in a way that made Nick smile. ‘Are you all right? Where have you been?’
‘I went to see Professor Gosswin.’ He had to stop to breathe. The urge to cough was gone, but somehow the idea of a deep breath felt wrong. He fluttered in a few shallow ones instead. ‘It’s not really,’ breath, swallow, ‘midnight, is it? I thought,’ breath, swallow, ‘it was only about six o’clock. How … How was the wedding?’
Tim wasn’t listening, shaking his head as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and flicked through his contacts list. ‘Bill must have just missed you. I’ll give him a ring so he can stop worrying.’
The kettle came to the boil as he turned away so Nick crossed to take down the mugs. As he lifted his arm, coughing overtook him.
He saw his knuckles turn grey as he clung to the counter.
Whiteness exploded behind his eyes.
When his vision came back, the world was scarlet, as if he were looking through a blood-red window-pane. The floor slid to the side, kept sliding, his stomach swooping as if he were about to be sick.
Suddenly he wasn’t sure which way was down and he had to know: he had to lie down before he fell.
‘Tim …’ Not even a thread of a whisper.
The world went black. He couldn’t see, though he knew his eyes were open. The room was turning around him, tilting up: up so that the floor was becoming the ceiling.
It was almost a relief to be falling. For the world to be simply going away. Just going away, like he’d wished for days that it would, fading away into nothing.
The hospital clock read 03.48.
Bill sighed, rubbing wearily at his eyes. ‘You know, until now I thought it was impossible to have another day as utterly God-awful as when my wife left me. I should have known it was going to be bad when Mike insisted on interrupting my afternoon meeting to tell me about his argument with Nick and topped it off with the news that he was on the way to the airport for a three-week trip to the States.’
Tim looked up blearily.
‘Do you know what he said? “I’m sure it’s just a tantrum but with his exams coming up I’d really appreciate it if you could give him a quick ring later: try to talk some sense into him.” And of course the main thing he was worried about was this thing at the supervision: how it would affect Nick’s exams.’
Tim rolled his shoulders stiffly, reaching back to rub at a sore muscle. ‘When I left for the States, Michael was being all martyred about how much effort he’d gone to, arranging to be home at night; how he wasn’t flying out until I was on the way back …’
Bill scrubbed at his face again. ‘There might have been the start of a rant about that. I, er, hung up at a certain point.’
Tim quirked an eyebrow. ‘That’s going to set the tone beautifully for when you call tomorrow to fill him in on all this.’ He made a vague gesture at the waiting room.
Bill groaned. ‘The one saving grace is that it is – was – Friday and I could afford to pack it all in early. Thank God I don’t have to rearrange anything until Monday. You’re not back at work right away, are you?’
Tim shook his head. ‘That would have been lovely, fresh off a transatlantic red-eye. But, no, it’s officially term-time so no extra hours at the coffee shop. For once, it’s a blessing to be under-employed. I’ve had quite enough excitement to welcome me home.’ That afternoon, he’d trudged from the station to the house, lugging his suitcase, only to find Bill just pulling up at the kerb. The house was dark and empty, no messages on the answerphone. It had been Tim’s suggestion to try the nursing home.
‘I can’t believe I missed Nick at Gosswin’s by less than five minutes. I was so relieved, when you called, to know he’d be home when I got back. Should have known better than to think the day was on the up.’
The last thing he’d expected, as he let himself in through the front door, was a frantic shout. He’d found Tim kneeling on the kitchen floor with Nick lying bonelessly in his arms, lips blue and face bloodless.
He was dialling an ambulance even before he’d knelt to check Nick’s pulse, trying to ignore how hot and dry his skin felt, the crackling of his breathing, like his lungs were full of tissue paper, the elderly wheeze at the end of each shallow breath.
It was only when the paramedic asked ‘Dad’ to step back that he’d remembered Michael. He’d sent Tim to try Michael’s mobile, knowing already that it would be switched off because where would Mike be while his son was lying unconscious on the kitchen floor but midway across the Atlantic?
‘I’ve never been so glad that Nick’s still under sixteen. I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t let me come in the ambulance. You know, you didn’t have to follow on, Tim. If you were any more exhausted, you’d be asleep on your feet. You could have stayed home. Nick wouldn’t have known.’
Tim gave him a half-hearted glare. ‘Like I said, there’s no way I wasn’t going to come. Thanks for the taxi money, though.’ He yawned again. ‘Do you think they’ll tell us something soon?’
They stared morosely up at the clock only to flinch when a nurse stopped suddenly in front of them.
‘Still here, I see,’ she said wryly. ‘I can tell that throwing you out is only going to see you sleeping in the lobby, so I’m going to give you ten minutes to look in on him to set your minds at rest. Then I’ll be packing you off home until morning visiting hours. You only get those ten minutes,’ she said, as they pushed themselves hurriedly, if stiffly, to their feet, ‘if we’re completely clear on the fact that your boy’s asleep and I’ll not have you waking him: he needs the rest more than the reassurance you’re here. Are we in agreement?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Tim said, giving her his most winning smile.
‘You’re looking rather too much the worse for wear yourself for that to have the effect you’re intending,’ the nurse told him. ‘Now, like the doctor said earlier, with teenage cases of pneumonia we often find a huge improvement in just the first twelve hours of getting them on a good strong dose of IV antibiotics. Your son’s X-rays weren’t too bad so we may only need to keep him twenty-four hours for the IV. I’ll be surprised if it’s more than forty-eight. He’s young and otherwise healthy, if a bit thin. He’ll be fine recovering at home on some oral antibiotics. I know he was a bit blue about the gills when the ambulance brought him in but that was shock as much as anything. His oxygen saturation is already back up, so don’t you worry. Now, one last signature and I’ll give you those ten minutes,’ she said, passing Bill a clipboard.
Having avoided telling anyone that he wasn’t Nick’s father without actively lying – no one seemed to have noticed that their last names were different – Bill made sure his signature was more than usually vague, but the nurse didn’t even look at what he’d written. She just tucked the clipboard under her arm and led them to a little cubicle at the end of the ward.
‘We’ve got him on his own until those labs come back. Just a precaution till we’re absolutely certain there’s nothing else lurking in his system that might be bad for the other kids on the ward,’ the nurse explained. ‘Remember, now: no waking my patient!’
Bill stood for a moment, staring down at Nick in silence, while Tim threw himself into one of the plastic
chairs, braced his elbows against his knees and dropped his head into his hands.
Bill rubbed the back of his neck as every part of him protested at the fact that it was nearly four in the morning after a long day and horrifying night. He still felt cold and shaky from the shock, the fear of the endless fifteen minutes in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.
‘It’s my fault.’
Bill sank into the second chair, reached over to pat Tim’s shoulder. ‘Of course it’s not, Tim. You weren’t even here—’
‘Nick had an accident. About two weeks ago. Some idiot driver caught him with his wing mirror and he came off his bike, fell in the ditch by the Botanic Gardens.’ Tim’s face was dull red as he hunched forward over his knees, staring at the linoleum. ‘He was a bit bruised, but I put him in the bath to warm up and he seemed fine. I tried to get him to go to Addenbrooke’s the next morning just to be sure, but he didn’t want to and there didn’t seem to be anything specific to worry about and I kept a close eye all week. I mean, I knew he had a cold but I swear it was just a cold when I left for the States.’ His bloodshot eyes lifted to Bill’s. ‘I swear it was only a cold.’
‘Of course it was, Tim. Look, these things happen. It was Michael here when that cold turned into something nasty, not you.’
Tim shook his head, looking away. His hands, hanging between his knees, wound into a ball. ‘I should have called you. I said I’d call you. I knew things weren’t going well. I knew Nick was struggling. There was this night – the night you went down to visit his mum – I found him drinking Michael’s whisky. I should have told you that time we chatted but … he’d only had a bit and it was just the once so I figured, well, it’s nothing I didn’t do – to extremes – when my parents died.’ He swallowed uncomfortably. ‘I nearly did call, you know, right before I left. I went down to visit Gosswin one day and Nick was there and I overheard some stuff, but I knew he’d never forgive me if he realised I’d heard, let alone told anyone … and I didn’t want to get in the middle of it.’ He sighed. ‘You see, Bill? You shouldn’t have trusted me with something so important.’ He rubbed a hand across his mouth, his face a mask of self-disgust under the over-bright hospital strip lighting.
Bill squeezed his shoulder. ‘Tim, out of all the people involved, you are the least to blame. This was never meant to be part of your role in the household. It’s Mike’s job: Nick’s his responsibility, not yours.’
‘Nick’s not really anyone’s responsibility. That’s basically what he told Gosswin – that no one gave enough of a damn to make him their problem,’ Tim whispered to the floor.
‘Mike never did manage to get things together after Nick came to live with him. He expected Yvette to take care of Nick and after her breakdown—’
‘Not to insult the dead, but some of the stuff Nick said to Gosswin … I don’t think she did a very good job either, even before the breakdown.’
‘Probably not,’ Bill said. ‘Probably not.’ Looking across at Tim, Bill found him staring vacantly at the ground once more, the marks under his eyes standing out like bruises. Everything about his posture said that he wanted nothing more than to find somewhere flat to lie down and fall asleep. ‘I’m going to tell Michael to stay in Washington,’ Bill heard himself say.
Tim stared at him for a moment, his mouth coming open, but then he closed it. Nodded. ‘Isn’t he going to want to come home?’
‘I won’t lie to him, but I don’t think it’ll be hard to persuade him to stay away. If I thought Mike would use this as an opportunity to be a real father I wouldn’t steal it from him, but I don’t honestly believe he’d bring himself to do it. And what a terrible waste that would be. I know I’m not Nick’s first choice, but maybe I’ll be enough. Love is love, right?’ he said lightly, as if it were a joke.
‘I don’t think Nick’s the type to turn his nose up at being cared for – so long as he really believes that’s what it is, not pity.’
Bill gave him an odd, arrested look. ‘So that’s what I did wrong last month.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve been so worried about looking greedy to be a father rather than just his godfather that I’ve made Nick think it’s all about Mike.’ He sighed. ‘There’s my closest friend leaving this gaping hole in his son’s life and here I am, trying not to step into it. It always felt too much like temptation to be the right thing. I just wish I’d been keeping a close enough eye to … Well,’ he said, sitting up straight, ‘I’ll start now. I’ll call the College tomorrow, see if the Senior Tutor will agree an aegrotat, or are they calling it a DDH now? The University still has a Deemed to Deserve Honours allowance, right, for students who’re seriously ill during exams?’
Tim nodded.
‘I’ll get them to request one in case Nick isn’t well enough to sit the exams. Sounds like he will be, but maybe knowing it doesn’t matter will take the pressure off enough for him to relax and focus on getting better.’
The nurse reappeared by the door. ‘Your ten minutes are up.’
Bill and Tim exchanged a look, but got to their feet without argument.
Half an hour later, Bill was standing in the Derrans’ kitchen, listening to Tim stumble up to bed. Leaning against the counter he poured himself a generous measure of Michael’s best single malt. ‘I’m in sore need of courage,’ he told the bottle, ‘and beggars can’t be choosers.’
Nick looked up with a smile as Bill rapped a smart tattoo on the doorframe the next morning.
‘You’re certainly looking better today,’ Bill said as he stepped up to the bed. ‘How’re you feeling?’
Nick shrugged, raising a hand to rub absently at his chest. ‘OK.’ A thread of sound, following by a rattling, crackling cough and a grimace. ‘OK,’ he repeated, slightly louder.
‘Well, you sound like a one-person percussion section,’ Tim said, leaning in the doorway. ‘In other words, gross!’
Nick’s smile broadened, bringing a faint flush of colour to his cheeks. ‘Hey,’ he croaked. ‘How was the wedding?’
‘The trip was as expected: exhausting, mostly vomit-inducing and frequently exasperating. The coming home was where all the excitement was at. I mean, I would commend you on your swan-dive technique but since the whole thing involved you spectacularly and thoroughly breaking that promise you made me about not passing out in corners, I’m thinking I’ll go with stern and disapproving,’ he said, perching one hip on the edge of the bed.
‘Sorry,’ Nick whispered, grinning, though the smile left his face as he looked down at the blankets. He shuddered in a breath, let it out as a hitching, careful sigh. ‘What …’ He swallowed. ‘What did the doctors say about the exams?’
‘They said you’ll probably be fine, but I’ve already talked to College,’ Bill said, draping his coat over the back of the chair beside the bed. ‘You’ve got a DDH if you need it, but let’s cross that bridge if we come to it. The important thing is that it doesn’t matter: all your supervisors are happy to sign off on the fact that your work this year has been exemplary. That’s all Part I exams are about anyway: they don’t count towards anything. So don’t even think about it for now. Just focus on getting better. I talked to your doctor this morning and he said he’ll probably let you come home tomorrow, so you’re only stuck here for a day. We just need to have a little chat about … well, about who’s going to be there when you get home.’
‘Maybe they’ll let me stay an extra day.’
Bill frowned as he settled himself into the chair. ‘I know you must have had quite a scare too, Nick, but surely you don’t want to stay in hospital?’
‘No, I just … I might be a bit rocky tomorrow, but the day after I’m sure I’ll be fine, or at least I’ll manage. I always do,’ he said quietly, not looking at either of them.
‘Nick, the issue isn’t that you’ll have to manage alone. There’s no question of you staying in hospital if you don’t need to.’ But Nick’s face was tightening into the careful expression of polite disinterestedness that Bill had always ha
ted.
‘Bill’s going to be staying for the next two weeks,’ Tim interrupted. ‘And I’m around, whether you want me or not. The thing is your dad being in Washington.’ He shot Bill a meaningful look when Nick ducked his head.
‘I talked to Mike, Nick, and of course he wants to be here but … you might be very annoyed with me for this but I said he should stay in the States. I know that things have been … tense lately, and I know how Mike gets. You should be feeling better by the time he gets back and then you can have a proper talk. I probably shouldn’t have made that decision for you, but I just thought—’
‘It’s fine, Bill,’ Nick said. ‘But you don’t have to muck up your life to be here while my dad’s away.’
‘Nick, that part of the issue is not up for debate. Even if Mike hadn’t been away, you’d have had me camped out in your guest room. We’re family so there’s no question that I want to be here, Michael or no Michael.’
Nick gave an odd little shiver.
‘Anyway, I’ve got a key so you can’t keep me out. You’ll just have to like it or lump it.’
Nick’s eyes were fixed on the bedclothes, his face impassive, but his shoulders, swamped by the hospital gown, grew rigid.
‘Of course, if you want I’ll go and call Mike right now. Tell him to come home. What do you think, Nick? It’s up to you.’
Nick closed his eyes.
‘Geez, Nick,’ said Tim, ‘get all excited, why don’t you, about the prospect of our company?’
Nick snorted half-heartedly. ‘Nah.’
‘We made a deal, Nick. Remember what you told me when you persuaded me to let you loan me the money for my trip?’ Tim ignored the look of surprise Bill shot him. ‘You said that we were friends so it wasn’t a big deal. So stop making a big deal out of this. Besides, you’ve forgotten Ange. Do you seriously think she’s not going to be round every day, plumping your pillows and trying to spoon-feed you soup? I won’t have to do anything but sit back and watch you squirm.’
House of Windows Page 22
