A Father This Christmas?

by Louisa Heaton

  ‘What?’

  ‘Something horrible. She ran from me. Ran back to her car and screeched off. I knew she was driving recklessly, but I was so angry I didn’t care!’

  Eva covered her mouth with her hand. They’d argued and then she’d died? No wonder he felt awful!

  ‘Jacob...’

  ‘I stood outside the church for ages. Trying to think of how I was going to go inside and face everyone. Tell them the wedding was off.’

  ‘So what happened then?’

  ‘The police arrived.’

  She knew what was coming.

  ‘They said that Michelle had died. That she’d been in a car crash, had been thrown from the vehicle. Everyone assumed that she’d died on her way to the church. They were all crying and weeping and dabbing at their eyes with tissues and I just couldn’t bear it! It was all so false! None of them knew the truth and all of them wanted to pity me. Wanted to see me collapse in a heap of tears.’

  ‘You must have been in shock.’

  ‘I didn’t know what to feel. I’d been furious with her and sent her away and she’d got killed. My fault. If I hadn’t sent her away... If I’d given us a chance...’

  Eva couldn’t believe it! She could see now how difficult that must have been. For him to have known the truth—that Michelle had cheated—and yet for absolutely everyone else to think they’d been so in love. As she had. But if this was what he’d been hiding, then perhaps he wasn’t still in love with Michelle!

  ‘This is what you’ve been keeping from me?’

  He stood in front of her. ‘I’ll understand if you don’t want anything to do with me,’ he said.

  She stared at his face. At the pain in his eyes. Seeing the way he was so bowed down by the guilt he’d been carrying all these years.

  She was about to say something when there was a furious banging on her front door.

  ‘Eva! Eva? It’s Letty! Hurry—it’s Seb!’

  Letty...? Seb...?

  She flew down the stairs, Jacob following close behind, watching helplessly as she fumbled over her keys to unlock the front door. Then she flung the door wide.

  Letty stood there, with Seb draped in her arms, pale and unconscious.

  ‘Oh, my God!’

  ‘I can’t wake him!’

  Eva stared at her almost lifeless son and felt her legs give way.

  ‘Seb?’ She shook his shoulders gently, then with more force. When he didn’t respond she pinched his earlobe. Nothing. She placed her ear over his mouth.

  He was still breathing!

  The doctor inside her started to analyse, and her gut filled with a nasty sensation as she just knew that something bad had happened.

  ‘Call an ambulance.’ She turned to Jacob, but he was already on his mobile.

  This was wrong. So very badly wrong.

  She kept trying to rouse her son as Jacob spoke on the phone to ambulance control.

  ‘He won’t wake up. Not responding to voice commands. Not responding to pain. He’s unconscious.’

  Eva looked up at him. ‘Wouldn’t it be quicker to drive him in ourselves?’

  ‘In rush hour? No. Let’s wait for the ambulance.’

  It was agonising just to sit and wait. To know what they knew and think of all the horrible things it might be. Meningitis? Encephalitis? An infection? Something caused by the earlier accident?

  It took an age, it seemed, before the ambulance arrived outside her house.

  The paramedics, at least, were familiar to her. Friendly faces. People she trusted. Letty quickly relayed how she’d found him that morning and told them that he’d seemed okay the night before, except for saying he had a headache.

  ‘What?’ Eva frowned. ‘He had a headache? Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Letty looked upset. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t think it was that bad.’

  The headache could be vital. Different diagnoses flashed through her mind...all the things it could be. But her brain kept telling her just one thing.

  Meningitis.

  She knew it in her heart, but didn’t want to admit it. Not Seb. Not her boy. No. It was Christmas. This couldn’t be happening at Christmas. It was wrong. He shouldn’t be like this. He should be getting excited about presents under the tree and Christmas carolling, or looking out for snow...

  The paramedics quickly gave him oxygen and bundled him into the ambulance in double-quick time. They allowed Eva in, but held their hands up at Jacob.

  ‘Sorry—only room for one. Can you get to the hospital under your own steam?’ And they set off with lights and siren going.

  Eva sat in the back with her son, reeling as they went around corners and bollards and through traffic lights, knowing that Jacob would be trying to travel separately behind them in his own car. But he wouldn’t be allowed to speed, or to go on the wrong side of the road, and would be delayed in getting to the hospital by traffic lights that they could just speed through.

  Briefly she thought about what he’d just told her. About his wedding day. About what had really happened with Michelle. But she pushed it away. That didn’t matter now! She needed to focus on Seb.

  They got to the hospital fast, and yet it also seemed to take an age. Seb still wasn’t responding, but the ECG leads told them he had a good heart rate. That was good. Something had to be good in all this.

  She was feeling incredibly sick. And guilty. Her son had been dreadfully ill next door, deteriorating, and she’d not known because she’d been sleeping with Jacob!

  Eva exhaled heavily and stared at her son. Willing him to read her mind.

  Stay strong. I need you, Seb. I need you.

  * * *

  Jacob gripped the steering wheel tightly as the ambulance sped away from him, its lights turning the street blue, then black, in an ever-flickering wail of pain that seared straight to his gut.

  What was wrong with Seb? He was no paediatrician—the headache could be anything. But it was the only clue to this whole mess.

  Everyone had headaches at some point in their lives—it didn’t necessarily mean anything. What did it mean for Seb? He was pale, unconscious. There were a variety of things it could be. An infection...something wrong with his brain. A blood disorder. It could be anything. Something to do with the bang on the head he’d received during that accident on the day he’d found out about his son.

  He was a doctor, and all those possibilities were popping into his brain and then out again as he dismissed the thought that it could be any of those things.

  He couldn’t lose Seb. Not now. He’d only just got to know him. He’d only just begun to appreciate what it was like to have such a wonderful son. To lose him now would be life’s cruel trick...

  Christmas Eve! It’s Christmas Eve again! I’m not going to lose him!

  He’d only just found his son... What man wouldn’t be thrilled to find out that he had a handsome, strapping young boy? And he was so clever, too—and popular at nursery. Everyone wanted to be Seb’s friend. Everyone wanted to sit next to him. He was a good kid. Diligent. They didn’t want to know him because he was the class clown. He was a good friend. A nice boy.

  The best.

  Only now he was lying in the back of an ambulance, speeding to A&E. How had that happened? How had two doctors—two accident and emergency doctors—not noticed that their child was ill? Sickening for something?

  Had there been earlier signs? Had they missed them?

  Jacob cursed.

  His stomach roiled with nausea and he rubbed at his forehead as a sharp pain shot across his brow.

  The ambulance was way ahead of him now. There was no chance he could keep up. Not safely anyway. He wasn’t trained to drive like that, and if he wanted to get to the hospital in one piece himself he knew he had to
be patient. Had to be careful.

  The traffic lights ahead of him turned red and he cursed them out loud in Afrikaans.

  The lights took an age. Or so it seemed. It was probably only twenty seconds or so that he waited, but for Jacob, watching the ambulance disappear in front of him, it was tantamount to torture. His heart was in that ambulance. If he knew anything right now it was that.

  His whole life was in that ambulance. Seb. Eva. His future.

  What would happen if he lost either one of them? He shook his head, refusing to go down that avenue. It would drive him mad with insanity. He couldn’t tolerate the thought—it was just too painful. He felt his heart almost shudder at the thought and bile ran up into his throat.

  No. Not that. No. I forbid it.

  He couldn’t lose them. Not now. He’d only just found them. He’d only just expanded his world to allow them in. And now that he had, his life shone bright. Like a brand-new star in the night sky. He couldn’t imagine the future without either one of them.

  He’d come back to find Eva. To set things right again. Surely it wasn’t all about to go wrong a second time?

  The lights turned green and he gunned the engine, shooting forward. He had to remind himself to be careful. He overtook a slow driver and glared at the young man behind the wheel of the car as he passed. Did he not know he had to be somewhere? That his son could be dying? Get out of the way!

  Just a mile or two from the hospital now. Not long and he could be back by Seb’s side. Standing with Eva to be there for their son. Together. As they always should have been from the start.

  He would not be leaving her to fight this fight on her own.

  He briefly thought about calling his parents. Then everyone who loved and cared for Seb could be there at his bedside to support him.

  We’ll get you through this, Seb. We need you to get through it. I need you to.

  There was the exit he needed for the hospital.

  Jacob looked out through the windscreen at the bleak landscape. It was all greys and dark browns. The ground was hard and frosted, the trees lifeless and still. He could just see cars and exhaust fumes and frustrated drivers, impatient people hurrying everywhere, trying to get home to their families. To their warm hearths and jolly Christmas jumpers and repeats on the television.

  He was frozen in time.

  He paused for a moment, pulling over onto the hard shoulder briefly, whilst he fought against nausea and the fear.

  He hesitated, took a breath, then pulled back out into the traffic.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THIS WAS SO ALIEN. So strange. To be the one standing back and watching other doctors fuss around her son.

  Her son.

  This was no random stranger, brought in from the streets. This was no drink-addled unknown blaring out ‘Silent Night’, or a faltering pensioner with a dodgy ticker. This was her child. Her son. Her reason for living.

  And they were sticking him with needles. Each piercing of his skin pierced her heart, causing her to flinch. She watched him bleed as they searched for venous access and felt her heart breaking into a thousand tiny pieces.

  An intravenous drip—a bag of clear fluid—hung by his bedside... Always so innocuous before, but now seeming so threatening. He clearly needed fluids.

  How long since he’d last drunk anything? She didn’t know. She hadn’t been with him. She’d been with Jacob!

  Machines beeped. Doctors fussed. Vacutainers popped. Voices called out.

  ‘Stat.’

  ‘Do it now!’

  She glanced at the readouts on the machines. His pulse was high, his pressure low.

  They kept pushing her back. Politely. She was getting in their way, she knew it, but she had to see him. Had to keep contact with him. Hold his hand. See his face.

  As he lay there she thought back through his whole life. Her pregnancy... Waddling her way through work at the hospital. Those blissful few weeks of maternity leave when she’d been able to put her feet up and rest...

  Only she hadn’t rested, had she? She’d shopped for baby clothes, for nappies, for equipment—a pushchair, a cot. She’d got the nursery ready, decorating a room for the first time and tipping paint all over her shoes. Then there had been all that palaver with getting the mural on the wall. By the time she’d finished it she’d hated all the characters, only loving them again when she’d taken a step back to marvel at the finished room.

  She’d wanted the world perfect for her son. Fatherless, she’d wanted him to have everything else.

  The day he was born... Hours and hours of labour, during which she’d been determined to give birth naturally, in her longed-for water birth. The pain had been intense. She’d almost caved and asked for pain relief. She’d always thought she was a tough cookie. But then Seb had been laid in her arms... His chubby arms and legs, his scrunched up fingers and toes and his button nose. His shock of dark hair... He’d looked so much like Jacob she’d almost dropped him.

  Almost.

  But she’d never let him go. How could she? He’d been perfect. Gazing up at her with eyes so blue she’d thought that the whole world’s supply of the colour had gone into his eyes and she would never see a blue thing ever again. Kingfishers would be dull. Bluebells would be just...bells. So blue his eyes had been...

  Then there’d been the first time he’d said mama. He’d been on the verge of saying it for a long time. Sounding out the m for ages, saliva dribbling down his chin as he chomped his lips together over and over, and then... ‘Mama.’ Heavenly. Perfect. She’d scooped him up and smiled at him so broadly, and he’d smiled back, giggling, and she’d known then, as she knew now, that the perfect little boy she held in her arms would hold all the power over her heart for the rest of her life.

  His first attempt at walking—toddling on his chubby legs. Each new day in his short life had given him more and more independence, taking him further and further away from her as he learned what he could do for himself. And still her love for him had grown and grown...

  Only he looked lifeless now.

  Sleeping, but worse. Pale and unresponsive. Not how he’d ever been and not how a three-year-old should be.

  He should be awake, getting excited about Christmas Day tomorrow, sitting in front of the television set or playing outside. Doing a final bit of Christmas shopping with her, perhaps. Helping her make biscuits. Licking out the bowl when she made the icing...

  Not here.

  Not in a hospital bed with needles and cannulas and IV drips and heart monitors and ventilators and all manner of other things going on.

  I can’t do this. I can’t see him like this.

  ‘He needs a CT.’

  She glanced at the doctor and felt alone. So alone! Where was Jacob? She needed him. Needed him more than she’d ever needed anyone. She shouldn’t have to face this alone. Whatever was happening to her son. Whatever the CT might reveal. This wasn’t the sort of thing she should do by herself. Hadn’t she put herself through hell so she could rely on him? Hadn’t she let him in so she could share this responsibility with someone else?

  She’d always thought herself strong. Independent. Looking out for herself and Seb in the best way she knew how. And she’d done well at that. But this...? This was something else. This was a torment and a cruelty that she couldn’t face alone.

  I need you, Jacob!

  Eva couldn’t tear her eyes away. She needed to see what they were doing to her son. What they weren’t doing.

  They were good doctors. The best. She knew these people. It wasn’t as if she’d put him into the hands of strangers.

  She knew what they suspected.

  Words wouldn’t soothe. Reassurances didn’t matter. Not until your child was whole and well again did anything matter.

  Eva felt awful fo
r the way she’d always been so detached with everyone else’s kids. But she’d had to be. If she’d got attached, or personally involved, allowed her feelings to interfere, then she’d have been a worn-out wreck.

  Only now she was on the other side. Not the doctor. The relative. She was the grief-stricken mother. She was the one with tears staining her cheeks, her eyes red, searching for hope. She was the one grasping at straws and hoping beyond anything that today’s doctors and today’s medicine could save her child.

  Eva felt so alone. So isolated.

  But deep down she knew she wasn’t. There was Jacob. Somewhere...

  Where was he? Why wasn’t he here yet? Was he still driving to the hospital? Madly searching for a parking bay? Who cared about getting a parking ticket? He should be here by now. Perhaps even now he was running to the A&E department?

  Her shoulders went back and her chin came up as grim determination strengthened her.

  He’s coming. I know he’s coming!

  She looked at Seb’s pale face.

  She’d never had to face a crisis like this before. And she felt so lonely.

  For the first time in years she wanted her mum.

  * * *

  Jacob blew through the doors of his own A&E department, bypassed Reception and, jacket flying, ran into the maze of corridors that had become like a second home. His gaze flicked to the admissions board but he couldn’t see Seb’s name.

  So he wasn’t in cubicles. Nor in Minors.

  He had to be in Majors.

  Or Resus.

  Oh, my God.

  He tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry. People he worked with tried to say, ‘Hi, Merry Christmas!’ But he brushed past them and rushed into Resus—where he found Eva by their son’s bed. Her eyes were swollen and she held Seb’s limp hand in her own.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she demanded.

  Jacob looked shocked. ‘I couldn’t find a place to park. What’s going on? What have they said?’

  ‘They don’t know.’ She turned back to her son and clasped his hand again. ‘They’ve run tests, done a CT. We’re awaiting results.’