by Lucy Clark
‘Lips are turning blue,’ Kaycee reported, her tone as despondent as Ray’s.
‘It’s over, Janessa.’ Miles’s tone held complete sadness.
‘No. We can do this. We can save him. We have the skill.’ She reached for the laryngoscope but Miles put his hand over hers.
‘It’s over.’ He took the instrument from her and met her gaze.
‘No.’ The word was torn from her, filled with anguish and sorrow. ‘No. We have to—’
‘Nessa.’ The use of her nickname, hearing it come from Miles’s lips, his deep voice laced with resignation, managed to break through her denial. ‘It’s over. Let him rest in peace.’
Janessa looked over at Philip, his lifeless little body just lying there, and her mouth went instantly dry. Flashes of Connor lying in almost exactly the same position. She blinked and swallowed. ‘Call it,’ she rasped.
‘Time of death, ten past two.’ Miles’s voice was hollow as though it was an effort to force the words out.
‘He was too premmie. Poor little love didn’t have the strength to fight,’ Kaycee murmured as she and Janessa stood looking down at the tiny, lifeless body. It wasn’t easy. It was never easy to lose a patient but when they were so new to the world, so young and helpless, relying on the doctors to do their very best to save them.
The tears wouldn’t stay where she wanted them and despite her most valiant efforts, they started to blur her vision. She swallowed over the lump in her throat and tried not to sniff. ‘I’ll go and tell Violet.’
‘No.’ Miles’s tone was firm. ‘I’ll do it.’ He met Janessa’s gaze and she almost gasped at what she saw. The pain, the raw, grinding emotion seemed to flood from him directly into her. There was no hope in his eyes, no promise of any kind, just a well of deep, personal heartache.
She swallowed again, her dry throat not making it at all easy. As their eyes held, somewhere in the back of her mind she realised that he was waiting for her agreement to his statement. He would go and deliver the bad news.
‘No young mother should have to face this.’ With that, he turned and walked over to where Violet was with Helena, near the front desk of the NICU. Janessa watched, waiting for the moment when utter heartbreak would come over Violet’s features. As Janessa stood there, watching, waiting … Miles’s words penetrated her mind. ‘No young mother should have to face this.’
What did he mean? Was he going to stop Violet from seeing Philip? From achieving closure? No. She wouldn’t allow it. All those years ago, after they’d told her they hadn’t been able to save Connor, she hadn’t been able to face seeing his lifeless little body lying there. Bradley had gone, had said goodbye, but she had been too distraught.
It hadn’t been until that night, that first night without him near her, after Bradley had gone home, that Janessa had changed her mind. She’d needed to see him, to see for herself that he was really gone, to achieve the closure the staff had encouraged her to find. When she’d spoken to the nurse, they’d arranged for her to be taken to the mortuary, to a small viewing room with comfortable chairs and soothing pictures on the wall.
There, the medical examiner had brought out her little boy. He’d been wrapped in a white blanket with little blue aeroplanes on it. She’d sat. She’d held him. She’d kissed him goodbye.
She wasn’t going let Miles stop Violet from seeing Philip. Violet needed closure. She needed to be able to say goodbye to her baby, otherwise she might well live the rest of her life carrying around the scars of grief and mortification.
‘Janessa?’ Kaycee’s soft tone brought her thoughts back to the present. ‘Do you want to go fill in the paperwork? I can get him ready for his mother to see—’
‘We’ll do it together.’ Janessa nodded, and as a strained, uncomfortable silence fell over the NICU she and Kaycee worked quietly and efficiently to remove the attached equipment before wheeling Philip’s crib into the empty emergency bay. This way, the young mother would be afforded the privacy she would need.
Janessa looked over to where Miles was still standing next to Violet, the young mother crying on Helena’s shoulder. She wasn’t going to allow anyone to stop Violet from having access to Philip. Drawing in a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and clearing her throat, Janessa wanted to let Violet know that Philip was ready for a final cuddle.
No sooner had she taken two steps towards them than Miles helped Violet to stand and started to escort her in Janessa’s direction. Janessa stopped. He was bringing her over? At that moment, Miles looked up and saw her.
‘Ready?’ he asked softly.
‘Ready?’ Janessa was momentarily confused. When she’d presumed Miles hadn’t wanted Violet to see Philip, it was obvious now that she’d grabbed the wrong end of the stick.
‘For Violet to say goodbye?’
‘Yes. Yes, of course. Right this way.’ When Miles had said, ‘No young mother should have to face this,’ Janessa now realised he’d been referring to the entire situation of losing a child. It showed her once again how wonderful Miles really was. He was so kind and caring and … She shouldn’t be thinking about him in such a way but right now she couldn’t help it. Seeing him so considerate, so compassionate stirred something deep within her. He was quite a man.
Poor Violet was as white as a sheet as they led her to where Philip lay, peaceful and quiet in the crib. Janessa felt her eyes starting to sting with tears again and she pushed them away, quietly trying to clear the lump in her throat, pursing her lips tightly together in order to keep herself under control. Professional. She had to somehow remain professional.
‘We’re very sorry for your loss.’ It wasn’t a platitude that came out of her mouth but heartfelt words as the young girl looked at her lifeless son, wrapped in a small baby blanket.
‘Can I hold …?’
‘Of course.’
Miles ushered Violet to a chair and Janessa tenderly picked Philip up and handed him over. The girl looked at him for a moment, before rocking gently to and fro. She bent and kissed his little head and then started to sing a soft lullaby.
With the sweet, innocent sound filling the air around them, Janessa found she wasn’t able to hold it in any longer. Tears ran silently down her cheeks, her heart filled with pain and anguish for what this brave young girl was going through. Without looking at Miles, she said softly, ‘Take as long as you need, Violet. Excuse me.’
She managed to make it to her office and was able to shut the door before a gut-wrenching sob erupted from her body. She didn’t seem able to stop the free-flowing tears and she blindly made her way to her desk in search of tissues. She dabbed at her eyes and quietly blew her nose but the tears and pain didn’t stop. They would, eventually, she knew they would, but for now, if she didn’t let this emotion out, she would burst.
She heard her office door open but didn’t turn round, knowing it would be Kaycee come to join her for a quick cry. This wouldn’t be the first time they’d shared their grief when losing a patient.
‘Janessa?’
She gasped at the sound of Miles’s deep voice, her vision still blurred as she glanced over at him. She couldn’t believe he was seeing her like this, all red-eyed and sniffly, being highly unprofessional and giving in to her emotions because one of her patients had died. It wasn’t the first time. It wouldn’t be the last. But each one had affected her in the same way.
‘Oh, Janessa.’ His words were almost wrenched from him, and before she knew what he was about he’d closed the distance between them. ‘Come here, honey,’ he murmured, and gathered her into his arms. She went willingly.
Janessa knew there wasn’t anything romantic or suspicious in Miles’s offer to hold her. She told herself that all he was doing was offering comfort, sharing a moment that had touched both of them. She swallowed over her dry, scratchy throat and leaned against him, unable to believe just how being held by him, feeling his warm, firm arms around her, was giving her back her strength and self-control.
Neither of them sp
oke. Neither of them moved. Her tears started to quieten and she hiccupped a few times. Throughout it all, Miles simply held her. It felt glorious and wonderful and she couldn’t believe how much she’d missed having someone to just hold her.
The warmth of his body, the beat of his heart beneath his chest, the whole aliveness of him radiated through her and for the first time in a very long time she felt as though she might actually be able to cope with her past. Comfort. Relief. Hope.
‘I was prepared,’ she said after a moment, ‘for her to hold him, to kiss him, to say goodbye.’ She breathed in, still hiccupping a little and allowing his glorious scent to wash over her. ‘But I wasn’t prepared for her to sing to him.’
‘A child singing to her child,’ he murmured, his deep voice rumbling beneath her ear.
‘She grew up. In that one instant I watched her go from being a scared teenager to a young woman who had already lost too much.’
‘She has family,’ he stated. ‘They’ll help her through it. It’s what families do.’
‘Yes. It’s what families do,’ Janessa agreed, knowing she needed to move from his arms, to break free of his hold because it would be far too easy to stay there, to keep drawing comfort from him. But the comfort was already starting to change to total awareness of being held against his firm, muscled chest.
She glanced up at him, swallowing when she saw the way he was looking down at her. His gaze dipped momentarily to her lips and she felt the sweet whisper of his desire wash over her. He still wanted her, was interested in her. Nothing seemed to have changed since the last time he’d been this close to her … the night he’d kissed her.
Sighing, the warmth from his gentle visual caress causing the butterflies in her stomach to take flight, she licked her lips, unsure how they had become so dry suddenly. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, clenching his jaw before once more looking at her. Did she have any idea of the allure that surrounded her? The way she was drawing him in, making him want to throw caution to the wind, to forget that they were colleagues, that they were supposed to be professionals, and kiss her—properly this time, instead of the accidental meeting of their mouths, which seemed to have been burned on his brain?
Forward. She was urging him forward, somehow pulling him from the past, his deep, darkened past where he’d ended up all alone, and was drawing him into the future. Forward. Giving in to the urge to kiss Janessa, to draw her closer into his arms, to devour her mouth with his own, was a definite step towards moving on with his life. So many of his close friends, people he worked with on many different conjoined twin surgeries, had been telling him for at least the last twelve months that it was time.
He hadn’t known it himself until he’d met Janessa.
Now here she stood. In his arms. Looking up at him while he was looking down at her, the mood between them becoming more and more electrified with each passing moment. ‘Nessa.’
The instant he breathed her name, the instant it came to his lips and filled the silence around them she started to tremble. She also eased away, spinning from his arms, breaking the contact, needing the space as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Miles shoved his hands into his pockets, cleared his throat, and took a step back as Janessa moved behind her desk and pulled another tissue from the box. Even as she performed the action, he could see that her hands still weren’t quite steady. It gave him hope. To know that it wasn’t just him who was feeling this way but that she was as much affected by him as he was by her.
‘Thank you, Miles … For the … er … comfort. It was … appreciated but just so you understand, I’m not in the habit of losing my control on a regular basis.’
‘I understand completely. Special circumstances.’ He swallowed, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down his long neck. Janessa glanced at him then and noted that not only was there the hint of repressed desire but something else … there was something else hidden in his tone … something she’d seen earlier. What was it? It only took another moment of looking at him for her to remember the way he’d looked when he’d insisted on breaking the horrible news of the baby’s death to Violet. There had been something there … something deep and moving and highly personal.
Janessa angled her head to the side a little. ‘Wait a second.’ Her words were soft and in no way accusatory. ‘You were affected, too, weren’t you?’
At her words, Miles closed his eyes for a brief moment before looking at her once more. ‘More than you know.’
‘It’s never easy to lose a patient.’
‘No. No, it’s not.’ Gone was the desire and out came the hurt. She’d never seen his eyes reflect such a hidden yet incredibly powerful emotion. Most people in the world made every effort to repress things or events that had happened to them in order to function with some semblance of normalcy. It appeared Miles was no different.
She paused, noting the hint of gut-wrenching pain in the way he spoke. He wasn’t just speaking from a personal angle, he was speaking from his heart, and it was a heart that had been shredded. She recognised the anguish, she felt the pain he was exhibiting, she could read the symptoms because she’d felt them herself … felt them when her own son had died. Following through on an instinct, treading very carefully, she asked softly, ‘Miles? When you lost your wife … was there.? I mean, did you have any … children?’
‘Yes.’ The one word was covered in heartache.
‘Oh, Miles.’ Janessa sighed, her heart turning over for him.
‘One child. One baby boy. He was eight months old. We had eight glorious months with him. Although he was a bit sickly to begin with, in the NICU for the first two months, after that he was a strong, healthy, strapping baby boy … who died in his mother’s arms.’
‘It must have been devastating for you both.’
‘No. Not for Wendy.’
Janessa frowned, unsure what he was trying to say. Miles looked at her, his blue eyes, which were so usually filled with joviality and direction, now bleak and cold. ‘We were travelling by train in Europe,’ he said. ‘There was an accident, a bad one. A horrific train crash. We were all involved. Wendy was holding Patrick and when the train derailed …’ He stopped for a moment. ‘I was thrown around, multiple fractures, lost consciousness. When I woke I was in hospital. Wendy and Patrick were listed among the dead.’
‘Miles.’ Janessa’s heart wrenched with sorrow for him and she walked to his side, taking his hand in hers, linking their fingers together. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
‘We were in the middle of nowhere. That stupid train crash robbed me of my family.’ He shook his head. ‘I was alone.’
Janessa squeezed his hand. ‘I know how you feel. I do. I really do, and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. I know what it’s like to lose people you love … babies you love.’
Miles looked at her, recalling the way she’d been so vehement and determined to help Philip, the way she’d spoken to Violet as though she really did understand. ‘You had a child, too?’
‘I did. A boy. Connor.’ As she spoke his name, she smiled. ‘He was wonderful.’
‘How old?’
She shrugged. ‘Newborn. Twenty-five weeks’ gestation. Just a touch older than Philip, but almost twenty years ago they didn’t have half the equipment we have now. Today he might well have stood a fighting chance but, also like Philip, he was just too prem.’
‘Is that why your marriage ended?’
‘The loss of a child is never easy to cope with.’ She shook her head. ‘Bradley and I were just children ourselves, pretending to be grown-ups, but it was no good. I made impulsive and irrational decisions back then and it’s taken me years not only to trust my own judgement but to trust others, not necessarily in the medical field but on a personal level. Any marriage break-up makes you really question yourself, makes you cautious of opening yourself up again. After Connor’s death, we were both floundering in a sea of confusion, too young and too inexperienced in life to cope with the emotions we both f
elt, and in the end we realised the wisest thing we could do was to call an end to our marriage, to admit that we’d failed and move on. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, to admit to that failure.’
Janessa dropped Miles’s hand and moved away.
‘Oh, Janessa.’
‘So, you see, I do know how you feel. I know how Violet feels right now. Sitting out there, holding her baby, saying goodbye.’
‘It still hurts.’ His words were a statement, not a question.
She nodded in agreement. ‘After all these years, it still hurts.’
Both of them were silent for a moment before Miles said softly, ‘It appears we have more in common than we originally might have realised.’
‘Perhaps that’s what drew us together in the first place?’
‘Janessa—’ He stopped and raked a hand through his hair before continuing. ‘What do you say about becoming friends?’
‘Get to know each other better?’
‘Exactly.’ He shifted and put his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘We’re going to be working closely together once the girls are born. Co-ordinating treatment, practical hands-on care, not to mention the preparation for the surgeries.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘That we spend time together because then that way we have some hope of finding common ground where this attraction isn’t the first thing coming between us whenever we’re together here at the hospital.’
Janessa thought for a moment. It would be good to be able to be in the same room as Miles and not be so aware of him. Perhaps he was right. Spending time together in a social capacity might actually benefit them rather than hindering their working relationship. ‘You make a fair point. Well … I guess we could go flying.’
Miles blinked once. ‘Flying?’ He paused, remembering that she’d mentioned something about flying before.
‘Sure. It will get us out of the hospital. We’ll be out in the open, fresh air, blue skies, destressing and letting all our troubles float away on the wind.’
‘Flying? You’re serious?’
