The Wish

by Alex Brown

  And, strange as it might be, Sam didn’t feel angry about that any more, because it really didn’t come as any surprise that she had withheld the letter, or perhaps she had simply forgotten about it, not considered the importance of it. His mother would always be the way she was, self-centred and narcissistic, and there wasn’t anything he could do to change that. And something he was starkly aware of now was that not all people made perfect, or even adequate, parents.

  Another positive was that Holly had told him her next appointment with the consultant at the hospital would be on Thursday next week, and he had already squared it with Myles to take the day off – well, with Sylvia to be exact, as she was the real one in charge down at the Blackwood Farm Estate. She was the one who had placed the advert on the architects and planning recruitment website that he had responded to. He had also had a conversation with the endocrinologist’s secretary at the hospital, ahead of Holly’s next appointment, and asked for some time to speak with him on a one-to-one basis so he could really understand exactly what was happening with Holly, about the tests she’d been having, what the problems might be and what they could do to help at this stage. Sam felt so much better for taking control of the situation. Having a plan.

  He was just about to take another look at the donor cards, even though he knew all the details, he had looked at them so many times, when the red light buzzed on the wall to tell him it was time to see Dr Ben. So, with a bit of a spring in his step, and a smile on his face, Sam made his way into the consulting room.

  ‘Good afternoon, Sam, how are you today?’

  ‘Much better, Doctor Ben. Really great. I found my parents’ donor cards.’ He could hardly wait to show them to him. ‘Well, I didn’t actually find them myself, I have my gran to thank for that.’ He grinned. ‘I didn’t find mine, though, but that’s OK now that you have the blood test results.’ Sam’s smile widened as he took a seat after placing the cards on Dr Ben’s desk. ‘It was a bit of a result that Dolly had my mother’s card. She hasn’t exactly been forthcoming in wanting to get tested,’ he admitted. ‘But I’m sure if she is the right blood group, then she might be more open to the idea …’ He paused to shake his head, knowing that this was mostly wishful thinking on his part, but if it ever came down to it … well, there was no point speculating but it was important to know and he remembered his pledge to stay hopeful. ‘And I’ve been doing a bit more research. I Googled blood groups and how they are inherited and all that. And both my mum and dad are blood group B, so that’s easy enough.’ He pointed to their cards on the table. ‘I’m going to be a B or an O, most likely an O as that’s the most common blood group. And that means Holly has to be an O, if Chrissie and I both are.’ Sam seemed to remember Chrissie telling him she was an O. ‘So that’s really good news isn’t it, Doctor? If I’m an O then I can donate to Holly.’ Sam knew that he was talking too much, so he shut up and waited for Dr Ben to find his results.

  Silence followed.

  Sam could hear the happy sound of children laughing outside the surgery window so he focused on that while he waited. He smiled and vowed to take Holly over to the village green later. She’d like that; they could take her bike down on the far side where it sloped right down, just like he had as a kid with his brother Patrick. Which reminded him, he needed to give Patrick a call, they hadn’t spoken for ages. Perhaps if he could sort everything out properly with Chrissie, the three of them could go to Australia for Christmas – Holly would love that. He would scan the letter from their dad so that Patrick could have a copy too. It’s what their dad would have wanted …

  ‘I shan’t keep you waiting much longer, Sam.’ Dr Ben picked up the donor cards and opened them again, and then consulted something on the screen.

  ‘Everything OK?’ Sam asked. ‘Sorry the cards are a bit faded, my dad died years ago, and they’ve been in an old hatbox …’

  ‘Yes, yes it’s fine,’ Dr Ben said. And a little awkwardly, Sam thought. He inhaled and swallowed hard, a creeping feeling of unease coming over him. A little while later, and he could bear it no longer.

  ‘It isn’t, is it?’ Sam leant forward as if to see the screen, fully expecting Dr Ben to shield it from him as doctors usually did. But he didn’t. Instead he leant back and let Sam see what was written. His blood group information was right in front of him. And it wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. His eyes raced over the screen. Again and again. Each time his brain trying to process what they saw.

  Samuel Anthony Morgan.

  Blood group A.

  Sam’s mouth went dry.

  It was a few seconds, but felt like an eternity, before he was able to articulate his thoughts in order to talk.

  ‘But that can’t be right. I’m an O or a B if both my parents are a B. I looked it up. Two Bs can’t have an A child. So I have to be either O or B. How can I not be? And Holly? What blood group is she?’

  ‘I’m not sure I have that—’

  ‘If it isn’t on the computer then the hospital will know.’

  Sam felt panicky now. But there was still a glimmer of hope. If he had understood the charts on the internet correctly, then Holly could have inherited his A blood group and then he’d still be able to donate to her. Dr Ben turned to face Sam and paused, as if in thought, deliberating what to do for the best. Then he picked up the phone and told the person on the other end of the line who he was and why he was calling.

  ‘Yes. Yes that’s right.’ There was a short silence then, ‘My patient’s name is Holly Morgan. I need to know her blood group. I can’t find it on the system.’ And he gave her date of birth. A few seconds later, he got the reply. Wrote it on a piece of paper and moved it across the desk towards Sam.

  O.

  Sam’s heart plummeted.

  His research said that people with blood group O could only receive a kidney from a person with the same O blood group.

  Not A.

  Definitely not A.

  A was no good at all to his daughter.

  Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He tugged at the collar of his coat, desperate for air. His lungs felt as if they were being trampled on, squeezed by a slab of concrete. And then a hideously bizarre thought rushed into his head – this would suit his mother no end. Her ‘poor Prosecco-pickled kidneys’ could remain in place, with her being a B and therefore unable to donate to her granddaughter, should the need ever arise. She was off the hook, exempt from any kind of responsibility to her family. Yet again. Whereas, Sam, so keen to take responsibility, couldn’t do anything to help.

  ‘Your blood test result is absolutely conclusive, Sam. I’m very sorry it isn’t the news you were hoping for. Are you sure these donor cards are correct? They haven’t been tampered with? As you said, they are quite faded.’ Dr Ben picked up the cards and scrutinised them again. But Sam knew that the doctor was just stalling for time, clearly keen to try to soften the blow somehow.

  ‘I’m sure. That’s exactly how they were given to me and I can’t imagine my gran would have altered them.’

  ‘I really am sorry, Sam.’ Dr Ben handed the cards back to him.

  ‘So what now?’ Sam didn’t know what else to say as he still tried to take it all in. He couldn’t even contemplate yet why his blood group didn’t match that of his parents. Or was it fear that he was feeling right now? Fear of what this devastating revelation implied. But before he could go anywhere near that train of thought, he first needed to know about his daughter. Where did this leave her? ‘What about Holly?’

  ‘Well,’ Dr Ben coughed to clear his throat and pushed his glasses further onto his nose. ‘Holly’s consultant will be able to talk to you more, but please remember that we don’t know for certain that she will ever need a transplant, and even if she did then she’d be placed on the register …’

  ‘But what if she needs the kidney right away and there just isn’t one?’ Sam, shoulders hunched, felt as if he was going mad. The kind of madness that comes from not being able to do anything whatsoever. H
e wasn’t stupid. As the realisation sank in, Sam knew that Linda was behind this. He knew it in his heart, and he felt like a complete and utter fool for thinking she couldn’t surprise him any more. When, here he was … relying on her in the most critical way possible, with his daughter so dependent on the result, and she had let him down yet again. He knew what this devastating information meant. His dad, Rob. That lovely, caring, kind man, wasn’t his biological father. It was the only explanation. And, given what he knew of his mother, it was the most plausible. And no wonder she had been coy about getting tested, and had tried to persuade him not to. She didn’t want her secret discovered. A nasty, big can of worms to be crowbarred open after all these years.

  How could she?

  How could she let him live a lie for his entire life?

  And what about Dad? Did he even know that he wasn’t my biological father? Did he die never knowing the truth? He must have done, because if he did know then he absolutely never let it show. He was a brilliant dad. The best. And Patrick? Does this mean he isn’t my biological brother?

  Sam felt as if his head was going to explode, the pressure was that intense. And he knew his first thought, when it came to Patrick, was how to break the news to him, thinking about how it may affect him that they might not be brothers after all.

  He stood up, in need of some fresh air.

  ‘Err … um, I … err … have to go,’ he said, his voice quavering, barely able to formulate how he was feeling right now into comprehensible words.

  ‘Please, Sam,’ Dr Ben stood up too, ‘there’s no need to rush away. You’re my last appointment of the day. Stay, and let’s talk. I realise this has come as a huge shock, but we don’t know for sure that the donor cards are wholly accurate … perhaps talk to your mother? Maybe she can reassure you, put your mind at rest. Please don’t jump to any hasty conclusions that may bear no resemblance whatsoever to the truth.’

  But Sam knew that was never going to happen. His mother cared only for herself. Always had done. And always would. She had never really been there for him … so perhaps it was time to end their toxic relationship once and for all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Holly couldn’t believe it. She had just arrived at the hospital with Mum for her appointment with the consultant.

  ‘Dad! You came,’ she beamed, hurtling over to where he was sitting with a Costa cup in one hand and mobile in the other. He placed the cup on the little coffee table, put his phone in his jeans pocket and stood up. Holly gave him a hug and then looked back over one shoulder at her mum, praying that she wouldn’t be in a mood and get cross that Dad had come. What if she makes him leave? Well, I won’t let her. She has no right. Dad said he’d make it all right but he can’t if she won’t let him.

  ‘Of course,’ Sam grinned. ‘I wasn’t going to miss your appointment. I thought I would surprise you,’ he said. Chrissie had only waved at him from the door when he had dropped Holly home last time, so Sam hadn’t got the chance to ask if he could drive them to the hospital. But a surprise was nice, wasn’t it? ‘And, I was thinking … how about we go for pizza afterwards. What do you reckon?’ Sam glanced at Chrissie, willing her to be OK with this plan. For Holly’s sake. And, if he was totally honest, for his sake too. He hadn’t been able to tell Chrissie yet that he wasn’t a blood match. Although he was struggling to trust his own judgement now. And was it any wonder, after discovering that his whole life was one enormous lie … thanks to his mother. He might not be able to be a blood match for Holly, but he could absolutely be a good dad. And a better person than his mother was. He hated the thought that he might be like his mother, the woman who clearly had absolutely no respect for Rob, the man who Sam had thought was his father. Let alone the man who really was his biological parent … the mystery man who he suspected probably knew nothing of his existence. Because if he did know, then surely he would have tried to contact him, if only out of curiosity. So how was that fair? A lifetime of not knowing you had a son? Sam couldn’t get his head around that. He just couldn’t. And it wasn’t bloody right. As far as he was concerned, a child had a right to know who their own father was. But he needed to focus on this now, on Holly, that was the most important thing today.

  Sam smiled cautiously at Chrissie, who returned it. He could see that she was anxious, the tightness around her smile belying her calm and controlled exterior. But then he was pretty anxious himself. They had no idea what the consultant would say. Please God, he really hoped it was going to be good news …

  ‘Mum, can we? Pleeeeease,’ Holly pleaded, thinking of her ‘Get Mum and Dad Back Together in Time for My Birthday’ plan. This was the perfect chance to make the plan actually work. And she was over the moon to see that Dad was keeping his promise to fix it all in time for her birthday. Today was going to be just like it always used to be before Dad went away to work.

  ‘You like pizza,’ she quickly added in an attempt to persuade her mum, and thinking how good it would be to have a brilliant time with both her parents. Especially if she could find a romantic pizza place with candles and all that stuff. Like a proper Italian restaurant. She would make sure they sat opposite each other and then she would go to the loo and spend ages in there on her phone so they could be alone. Oh yes, it was going to be so awesome. And with a bit of luck she could have a ham and pineapple pizza – her favourite! Chrissie nodded. Took off her gloves and sat down opposite where Sam had been sitting.

  ‘Purlease, Mum. Pretty pleeeeease,’ Holly tried again, impatient to know right away. Why isn’t Mum saying anything? Why is she just giving Dad the evils and being horrible about his brilliant idea. Poor Dad. He’s come all this way to surprise us and treat us to a fantastic time afterwards and she obviously just wants to ruin it all. Why can’t she just be pleased for once?

  ‘What do you say, Chrissie?’ Sam asked gently, knowing not to pressure her and grateful that they were the only ones in the waiting room. He really didn’t want an audience if his plan went horribly wrong. Chrissie looked him right in the eyes, before glancing away … and for a moment, Sam thought she was going to cry. She sniffed and chewed the inside of her left cheek.

  ‘Please Sam, I can’t think beyond the appointment right now,’ she said, quietly. He saw her look at Holly before turning her face towards his. ‘Let’s see how things go, and then we can decide what we’re going to do afterwards,’ she finished, and then busied herself by unravelling her long silky scarf and trying to stuff it into her bag.

  ‘Oh, Mum!’ Holly leapt forward and threw her arms around Chrissie’s shoulders. ‘Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

  ‘OK, sweetheart. Like I said, let’s decide after we’ve heard what the doctor has to say …’ Chrissie reciprocated the hug before untangling her daughter’s arms from around her neck and indicating for her to sit down beside her.

  But Holly didn’t sit next to her mum. She sat down next to her dad instead and grinned from ear to ear like a looper. So hard, her cheeks were properly aching. Mum had practically agreed to going for pizza – all that about deciding later really meant yes; she just wants to keep Dad keen. Holly had read all about that ‘treat them mean, keep them keen’ stuff. Mum definitely had been mean to Dad, and now she had worked out why. If only Gavin would do one! And then there would be no reason why the wish wouldn’t come true and Mum could take Dad back. She found her phone inside her jacket pocket, flicked it to silent, and keeping it within the denim fabric so as to not get caught, she surreptitiously Snapchatted her best friend, Katie. All the while trying not to look at the Please Switch Off Mobile Phones sign on the wall opposite her. But this is an emergency. Well, not an actual emergency, emergency, like a car crash or whatever. But it’s still extremely important. And it’s not like the Intensive Care bit is next door, or there are vital heart monitors or anything in this part of the hospital. This is just a waiting room. And it’s not even a proper hospital room … only a Portakabin.

  Holly finished tapping the keyboard on the
screen and pressed to send.

  Mum and Dad are getting back together!

  Moments later, Katie replied.

  For real? Followed by three love eyes emoticons.

  Holly was just about to reply when a nurse appeared in the doorway and beckoned them all to follow her in to see the doctor.

  *

  The consultant seemed to know Holly really well, Sam thought, noting her kindly eyes with a sparkle in them. The picture on her desk was of her with two girls, obviously her daughters, one of whom looked as if she was the same age as Holly. She was asking Holly about school and listening enthusiastically about her upcoming performance.

  ‘So, let’s have a look at what we have here, then.’ The doctor looked at her computer, referring to some paperwork she had in front of her too. ‘Your blood sugars have been erratic for a while and, looking at the notes, it doesn’t seem that there is a clear indicator as to why, Holly. Your diet looks quite well controlled, if you take your mum’s good advice, that is.’ She smiled at Chrissie, who still looked tense, twiddling a tissue in between her fingers, but she smiled back.

  ‘That’s good then, isn’t it?’ Holly grinned.

  ‘Well,’ the doctor nodded, ‘it is good that you’re being sensible. But the key to managing diabetes successfully is about getting the balance right – between insulin, food and activity. And it can take a bit of practice, and sometimes you need a bit of help.’

  ‘What about Holly’s kidneys, Doctor? There were some concerns over her readings.’ Chrissie’s voice wobbled slightly as she asked the question. The doctor referred to the screen again.

  ‘Ahh, yes. But things seem to have stabilised now,’ the doctor said, looking at Holly. ‘We’ll have to monitor things, of course, but I’m not concerned at this time.’

  Sam and Chrissie immediately looked at each other on hearing this news, the relief palpable. Sam could see tears welling up in his wife’s eyes and he reached his hand out to her, which she gripped tightly, before composing herself.