‘Why not?’ Clancy asked with a look that suggested he thought Mitchell was stupid.
‘Because he doesn’t want to risk getting hurt.’ Jordan stared at him. ‘Mate, I love you like a brother, but you need to hear this. I know you grew up believing your own mother didn’t love you but—’
‘She didn’t!’ Mitchell exploded.
Jordan scowled back. ‘You don’t know that. You don’t even know the circumstances around why she left. There could have been a valid reason.’
Irritation made Mitchell’s blood boil. How had this become a conversation about his mother? Jordan knew better than to bring up the past.
‘Are you kidding?’ he asked, voice raised. ‘What valid reason can you give me as to why a mother would abandon her four-year-old son on the streets?’ he asked.
‘You’re not the only one with the monopoly on a crappy childhood,’ Jordan snapped back.
A wave of remorse swept through Mitchell. Jordan’s upbringing was like his own, but Jordan had never carried the baggage Mitchell had. Jordan’s father was a drunk who had used his words and his fists to beat the crap out of his son.
‘I know you had it bad growing up, Mitch, but you’re letting your past hold you back from your future. You’re expecting Hope to do exactly what your mother did, and you’ve somehow forgotten she isn’t your mother.’
Mitchell exhaled and the quick flash of anger he felt towards Jordan left. It had always been that way between them. They’d argue, but they never held grudges. What Mitchell could never understand was why Jordan never seemed to be as hung up on his past as he was.
‘If it wasn’t for the Simpsons, I wouldn’t have been able to move on either. They proved to me that I could trust people. Because of them and their love for you and me—and all the kids they fostered—I believed I could actually make something out of the crappy hand I’d been dealt. I could be someone,’ Jordan said.
‘And you are,’ Mitchell said.
‘We both are,’ Jordan replied.
Mitchell exhaled. ‘I guess.’
‘It’s true,’ Clancy said, resting a hand on Mitchell’s shoulder. ‘You’ve worked hard to get where you are today, and you should be proud of who you are and what you’ve achieved. You’ve built a great life. You have good friends, a job you love, you have a beautiful house, money in the bank, your own clinic. You should be very proud.’
‘Then why do I feel like something’s missing?’
‘Not something,’ Clancy said. ‘Someone.’
‘Blokes like us aren’t meant to live alone,’ Jordan said.
Mitchell looked from Jordan to Clancy and whispered her name. ‘Hope.’
They nodded.
Sweat ran down Mitchell’s spine. He had to tell her, regardless of what she decided to do with it. If he didn’t say anything, he wasn’t giving her the chance to choose between her career and him. If she chose her career and walked away at least he’d know he’d given it his best shot.
‘Everyone deserves to be happy, Mitch,’ Clancy said, patting him on the shoulder. ‘Trust me, last thing you want is to end up as a crusty old bachelor like me.’
‘You need Hope,’ Jordan said.
He blinked at Jordan. He did need Hope. But did she need him?
Chapter 23
Hope drove back to The Anchorage replaying the conversation with Mitchell. Her emotions were in a chaotic, convoluted mess.
After he’d gone outside to work on the deck, she’d showered and dressed and left his place totally confused. The talk of a long-term relationship, of settling down and having babies and of putting down roots freaked her out.
Mitch was being patient and kind with her and the more he gently tugged her towards him, the more she felt herself letting go of her resistance. She wanted to be with him and couldn’t imagine ever being with anyone else, but she feared giving him her whole heart again. Not because she didn’t trust him with it—she did—but because she didn’t trust herself. She was terrified if she said yes to Mitch and settled down like he wanted, that she might feel trapped. She knew it was irrational, but she had no idea how to make the fear go away. The only times in her life she’d found herself planted in the one place, it had been awful. First there was the time they’d stayed in Melbourne after her cancer, the second was Brett.
Whenever she spent too long somewhere she was filled with incessant pangs of wanting to be somewhere else. It was hard to explain to people and other than her parents, few understood how hard it was for her to consider putting down roots.
When Hope got home, there was no sign of Margot, Courtney or the babies, and she remembered Courtney had said she had another doctor’s appointment. Borrowing Margot’s car again, Hope headed down to the beach to go for a run. She needed respite from her swirling thoughts and running was the best way to clear her head. Plus, she needed to train for the fun run.
There was genuinely no better feeling than running along the beach front. Living in Melbourne, she didn’t get to do that. Most of her runs were around the streets or the Tan, the track that wound its way around the Botanic Gardens. There was something about the tranquillity of the deserted beach and the feeling of being one with nature that was both powerful and uplifting.
An hour and a half later she arrived back at the car, puffed, flushed and feeling great, even if she was still confused. She was stretching her legs when she heard barking, and she turned to see Mitchell pulling up in his car with Indy in the passenger seat, her head out the window, tongue lolling.
She smiled, but it disappeared the moment she saw Mitchell’s face. Something was wrong.
‘Courtney’s been trying to reach you.’
Ice slipped through Hope’s veins. She’d left her phone in the car while she ran. Had something happened to Margot or one of the babies?
‘It’s Ollie,’ Mitchell said. ‘He’s struggling to breathe.’
Her chest tightened.
‘Has she called Jordan again?’ she asked. Courtney had taken Ollie to see Jordan three times in the past week and each time he’d assured her Oliver’s annoying cough was nothing more than a virus. Hope hadn’t been convinced, but she trusted Jordan’s clinical judgment and as each day passed and Ollie didn’t deteriorate, she’d relaxed. But if he was having trouble breathing, it was more than a virus.
‘He told her to call an ambulance.’
‘What about Lachie? Where is he?’ she asked.
‘Court can’t get hold of him. He’s in surgery.’
‘I need to get home.’
‘Jump in. I’ll drive you.’
‘I have Margot’s car.’ She pointed the key fob at the car and unlocked the door.
‘I’ll follow you there.’
Back at The Anchorage Hope jumped out of the car almost before she’d come to a complete stop. Margot met her at the front door.
‘How is he?’ Hope asked, breathlessly.
Tears filled Margot’s eyes as she hugged Hope tight. ‘Oh, darling, he’s not good.’
‘Mitchell said Courtney called the ambulance?’
Margot nodded. ‘They’re on the way.’
‘Where’s Court now?’
‘In her room with Ollie.’
‘And the girls?’
‘I’m looking after them in here.’ Margot pointed to the lounge room. Hope glimpsed two bundles of pink side by side on a rug on the floor near the fire. Relief swept through her. Thank God they were okay. Hope had heard them coughing once or twice, but neither of them as badly as Oliver.
Hope hurried down the hallway towards the back of the house to Lachie and Courtney’s bedroom. She found Courtney perched on the edge of the bed holding Oliver upright. Even from the doorway, Hope could see how much he was struggling to breathe. He was coughing relentlessly and using all his accessory muscles.
Dread radiated down Hope’s back.
Whooping cough.
Why hadn’t she seen the signs earlier? He was deteriorating every second and they needed to ge
t him to hospital, fast. Kids coped only so long, then they crashed.
Inhaling slowly, she slipped into professional mode and entered the room. She squeezed Courtney’s shoulder gently, to let her know she was there.
Courtney looked up at her, eyes full of panic. ‘He can’t breathe, Hope.’
Hope rubbed Courtney’s back. ‘He’ll be okay. The ambulance is on its way.’
Tears streamed down Courtney’s cheeks. Oliver started coughing again, so hard his lips turned blue. Hope wished she was in hospital with him and had all the monitoring equipment they needed to make a proper assessment. She didn’t even have a stethoscope to listen to his chest.
‘Sit him upright again,’ Hope said. ‘Rub his back.’
She palpated Oliver’s pulse. Too slow and thready. She counted his breaths. Shallow and difficult to count. His skin was cool to touch. Sinister signs. She checked the time. How long had it been since the ambulance was called?
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Mitchell asked softly from the doorway.
She glanced across at him. ‘He’s had a cough on and on for the past two weeks. Jordan thought it was probably viral.’
‘It was always worse after his feeds,’ Courtney said, ‘so I put it down to reflux. But the other night I had to pick him up and pat his back when he started coughing because he couldn’t stop, and it sounded like he was choking. And at least he’s not crying now.’ She pressed a kiss to Oliver’s forehead.
The fact he wasn’t crying was a bad sign, but Courtney didn’t need to know that. Hope was furious with herself. She should have realised Oliver was sicker than Jordan thought. She’d seen kids like this. She should have known.
‘What do you think’s wrong with him?’ Mitchell asked.
‘Whooping cough,’ Hope said.
Courtney’s eyes widened. ‘But how? I was immunised in my final trimester and we asked all our friends to get immunised before we let them see the babies. Even Mum had her booster shot.’
Hope shrugged. ‘It could have been anyone. Someone in the community not fully covered.’
‘But I’ve hardly left the house.’
‘Beth,’ Mitchell said.
They turned to look at him.
‘What do you mean?’ Hope asked.
Mitchell’s face was pale. ‘You saw Beth. She told me she ran into you at the Book Barn.’
Hope nodded.
‘She’s been sick for weeks. Had a cough that wouldn’t go,’ Mitchell explained.
Courtney put her hand to her mouth.
‘Let’s not go blaming Beth,’ Hope said quickly. ‘It could have been anyone.’
‘But if it was Beth and she knew she’d caused this, it would kill her,’ Mitchell said.
‘We’re all jumping to conclusions and none of it will help Ollie,’ Hope said. She turned to Mitchell. ‘Can you call triple 0 again? I need them to know we need lights and sirens.’
They also needed the PIPER crew—the Paediatric, Infant, Perinatal, Emergency Retrieval team based at the Royal Children’s—but she wasn’t going to alarm Courtney any further by telling her that. The way Oliver looked, he’d potentially need to ne intubated and flown to Melbourne. It would take hours to get him there by road.
Oliver started another round of relentless coughing. When he finally stopped, he lay immobile in Courtney’s arms for a short time before taking a deep breath which caused another round of coughing. At one point he coughed so hard and for so long Hope found herself holding her own breath and begging Oliver to breathe. She dreaded to think what his oxygen saturation levels were.
‘What about Piper and Charlotte?’ Mitchell asked. ‘Are they okay?’
‘For now.’ Hope resisted the urge to go down the hallway to check on the girls.
Courtney put Oliver on her shoulder and patted his back, trying to soothe him. Her face was wet from her tears, but she didn’t stop to brush them away as she cooed softly in Oliver’s ear, imploring him to keep breathing.
Hope checked her phone for the time. Come on, hurry up, she begged silently.
‘This is scaring the hell out of me,’ Mitchell admitted softly to Hope. ‘I’m used to dealing with sick pets, not kids.’
‘I’m used to dealing with sick kids and to be honest, it’s scaring the crap out of me.’
Margot stuck her head in the room. ‘Two ambulances just pulled up,’ she said breathlessly.
Hope and Mitchell exhaled in unison. ‘Thank God.’
Relief washed over Hope when the paramedics calmly walked in. The men appeared to be in their early to mid-fifties which meant they’d have years of experience between them.
‘G’day, I’m George.’
‘Hope Rossi.’
She shook George’s blue-gloved hand. His grip was strong, his smile warm and the eyes that met hers behind his black-rimmed glasses were reassuring. The knot in her chest loosened. Everything would be okay.
‘And I’m Alistair.’
She shook the other paramedic’s hand.
‘Who do we have here?’ George crouched down beside Courtney and stroked Oliver’s head while Alistair got down on his knees and put a stethoscope to Oliver’s chest.
‘This is Ollie,’ Courtney said. ‘I’m Courtney. My husband isn’t here. He’s in theatre somewhere. I don’t even know which hospital he’s working at today. He’s an anaesthetist.’
‘It’s alright, Court, I’ll find him and let him know,’ Hope said.
‘Looks like this little fella is having some problems breathing,’ George said.
Courtney nodded. ‘Hope thinks he has whooping cough.’
Alistair gave her a questioning look.
‘I’m a nurse,’ Hope explained. ‘I work at the Children’s in Melbourne.’
‘How long’s he been like this?’ George asked.
‘A week or so. Worse the last twenty-four hours. Last night was pretty bad.’
‘We need to get him loaded,’ Alistair said softly. ‘Sats are low, chest sounds crap.’
He’d already applied an oxygen mask to Oliver’s face and cardiac monitoring to his tiny chest. Oliver started coughing again, so hard that tears streamed down his cheeks. He coughed and hacked and cried at the same time before finally drawing in a breath.
Courtney rubbed his back and kissed him before handing him over to George. ‘Please look after my baby.’
Alistair put out his hand to help Courtney stand. ‘You can come in the truck with us to the hospital.’
‘I’ve packed a bag for you, darling,’ Margot said, and handed her an overnight bag.
‘I need to kiss the girls goodbye,’ Courtney said, her voice catching in a sob.
‘Go and do that. They’re both asleep. I promise I’ll take good care of them.’
‘There’s plenty of expressed breast milk in the freezer.’
‘I know,’ Margot assured her. ‘They’ll be fine. I’ll get things sorted here then Hope and I will drive to the hospital.’
‘Where are you heading?’ Hope asked Alister.
‘Warrnambool. They’re expecting us.’
‘What about PIPER?’ she asked.
George shot Alistair a look.
‘We’ll call them,’ Alistair confirmed, ‘once we’ve loaded.’
‘Will they transfer him straight up to Melbourne?’ Hope asked.
‘I’d say so.’
‘Do you think he needs to be tubed?’
‘Yeah, probably, but we won’t do it unless it’s absolutely necessary and if we do, I’d prefer to have a paediatrician with us.’
Hope hugged Courtney tight. ‘Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll help your mum and we’ll get to the hospital as soon as we can.’
‘And Lachie?’
‘I’ll find him and let him know,’ Hope promised.
‘I’ll do it,’ Mitchell said.
Hope flashed him a grateful smile as she followed George and Alistair outside to the waiting ambulance.
Mitchell handed his car keys to
her. ‘I’ll look after Margot and the girls. You follow the ambulance and be there for Courtney.’
Hope took his keys and ran outside.
*
Twenty-five minutes later Hope pulled up outside the hospital, parked her car, and raced inside. Thankfully, although the waiting room was half full, there was no queue at the desk. She approached the receptionist with a smile.
‘Hi. I’m Hope Rossi. My cousin Courtney was brought in with her baby. I’m a nurse.’
The receptionist glanced at the computer screen. ‘What’s the baby’s name?’
‘Ollie. Oliver Benson.’
‘I can see they’ve arrived, but they’re still being triaged. You’ll need to wait.’ The receptionist pointed to a row of chairs.
Hope sat, jiggling her leg. Five minutes later she couldn’t tamp down her impatience any longer. She wanted to push open the doors and go straight into the resuscitation cubicle and offer to help. She stood and went to the desk again.
The receptionist glanced up with a wearied expression. ‘Yes?’
‘I’d really like to see my cousin, please.’
‘Hold on.’ She picked up the phone, dialled a number and put it to her ear. ‘I have a relative here for Oliver Benson...she said she’s a nurse...yeah...oh...’ She glanced at Hope. ‘Oh. Okay.’ She put the phone back in its cradle, pressed a button and smiled contritely. ‘You can go through. They’re in resus. Do you know where that is?’
Hope shook her head. ‘No. But I’ll find it.’ She didn’t want to wait a second longer.
Pushing open the door, she stepped into the unfamiliar department. It didn’t take her long to find the sign for the resuscitation cubicle, and she headed past curtained off areas filled with patients on trolleys. It was busy.
Oliver had already been moved from the ambulance stretcher and placed onto the neonatal resuscitation cot and was in the process of being hooked up to the hospital’s monitoring system. George was on the phone and Alistair was on his laptop. Courtney sat on a chair close to the cot, one hand resting on Oliver’s foot. A team of doctors and nurses hovered around Oliver.
‘How’re you doing, Court?’
Holding onto Hope Page 20
