by Amy Andrews
But she could no longer just think of herself. If she had the disease, her baby had a fifty per cent chance of inheriting it as well. Was that something she wanted to inflict on her baby? How could she live with herself if she’d passed it on?
Claire knew she was going to have to have the predictive test that had become available in the last few years. But knowing it and liking it were two different things.
Thinking positively helped. If she took the test and it was negative, then her and the baby were going to be OK and she could allow herself to love Campbell—if he still wanted her after all she’d put him through. Yes, she had to focus on love. Love for her baby and love for Campbell. It would get her through what had to be done.
She’d never been more terrified in her life!
* * *
The next day Campbell caught a taxi to St Jude’s straight from the airport. He wanted to tackle the mountain of paperwork that would be waiting for him and, if he was honest, he wanted to see Claire.
He’d really missed her the last few days. OK, so their relationship wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but they seemed to be moving into a comfortable friendship and he was surprised how much he’d missed that.
He removed his jacket and sat at his desk, pulling his bulging intray towards him. He opened the yellow internal mail envelope on the top of the pile and several lab forms fell out. He thumbed through them distractedly.
Campbell always insisted on looking at his own results. It was a double-check system that occasionally picked up abnormalities that had been missed or not reported to him, usually through communication breakdowns and human fallibility.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just the usual hotchpotch of pregnancy tests, blood counts and electrolyte studies. The last one was a pregnancy test. It was fairly unremarkable in itself, except for the name. Claire West. He sat perfectly still for a few seconds. Surely not? Claire? His Claire?
His heart started to beat a little faster. He looked at the date. It had been done four days ago. He took a deep breath to calm his suddenly raging thoughts. Could it be her? Her name was fairly common. There were probably hundreds of Claire Wests in Brisbane. There was no patient identification number either. Intriguing.
His hand shook as he dialled the number for the lab. He needed to investigate fully before he jumped to any conclusions. He rang off a few minutes later, having ascertained that the blood bearing Claire’s name on that day had been logged as having come from the birth centre.
Pregnancy tests weren’t usually sent from the centre. There was no need to perform one as the clients were obviously pregnant or they wouldn’t have been cleared to attend.
Campbell felt a tremor slither through him. Claire was pregnant. She was going to have his baby. He stood up, trying to quell his growing excitement. Suddenly he wanted to jump for joy. He snatched the pathology form and shoved it into his jacket pocket. If he hurried he might catch her before she left for the day.
He had to see her and reassure her that everything would be OK. He’d be there for her and his child. She could stop running away from relationships. Whatever it was, they could work it out for the sake of the baby. They’d get married and live happily ever after.
Valerie informed him she’d just left and if he hurried he might catch her in the car park. He didn’t need telling twice and he rushed out of St Jude’s as fast as he could.
Campbell spotted Claire’s head disappearing into her car as he arrived at the staff car park. He yelled out but she didn’t hear. He bolted to his own car, deciding to follow her until she stopped and got out.
Traffic was always heavy at this time of the afternoon in and around the hospital, and Campbell found himself four or five cars behind. As they travelled further into suburbia, the cars thinned out and he was directly behind her for the last five minutes of the journey.
He drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering-wheel, waiting for her to look in her rear-view mirror so he could alert her to his presence. She must have been deep in thought as she never looked once.
She drove into a driveway in a pleasant suburban street. He parked out front and was undoing his seat belt when his mobile phone rang. He wanted to switch it off but answered it anyway. It was one of the midwives in Labour Ward, ringing about a private patient.
It took ten minutes to deal with the problem. He hung up eagerly and was knocking on Claire’s front door in a matter of seconds.
A tall, grey-haired man answered. Campbell assumed him to be Claire’s father and was struck by how old and tired he looked. Claire had told him he was sixty-four, but Campbell would have put his age somewhere in the seventies.
‘Hello. Mr West? I’m Campbell Deane.’ He held out his hand and the older man shook it. Campbell was surprised by the strength of his grip.
‘So you’re Campbell,’ he said in a voice as firm as his handshake. ‘I’m Ray, Ray West. Pleased to meet you.’
Ray ushered Campbell into the lounge. ‘Is Claire expecting you?’
Campbell could tell that Ray was unused to meeting any of Claire’s men friends. ‘No.’
‘I don’t mean to pry, Dr Deane, but Claire did say you weren’t seeing each other any more. I don’t know if she’ll be too keen to see you.’
‘Tell her it’s important. Please.’
Ray left to talk to Claire while Campbell waited. He returned quickly.
‘I’m sorry, Dr Deane. She doesn’t want to see you. I’m afraid my daughter does have a rather large stubborn streak.’
‘Yes, I’m well acquainted with that streak. Please, call me Campbell.’
‘Well, Campbell, I think it’s high time somebody came along and made her see that isolating herself from life isn’t the answer. I admire your persistence.’
‘Thank you. I fear I’m not out of the woods yet.’ Campbell smiled.
He felt the older man’s scrutiny and sensed Ray was trying to get his measure.
‘Well, that’s why I’m off to get the paper. That’s a good long walk, about an hour. I expect you to use that time well. She’s in the end bedroom.’
Campbell shut his eyes, unable to believe his good luck. Claire’s father was on his side. He was grateful to Ray for his support—he needed as much as he could get.
Still, he approached the end door with a degree of trepidation. What he did and said now could make all the difference. Campbell felt the gravity of the situation weighing him down.
He raised his hand to knock and then hesitated. If he gave her the option, she’d no doubt deny him entry. She might even lock the door. He needed to speak to her face to face. Best not to alert her. Forewarned was, after all, forearmed.
He pushed the door open. Claire was in the middle of hanging a feedbag, winding it through a pump. It was obvious she hadn’t been expecting him. Her expression went from startled to surprised and then, as her father’s betrayal sank in, angry.
Campbell wasn’t prepared for what he saw in the room. He stopped short, taking in the sight of Claire and the frail older woman in the bed. What was going on here? He didn’t seem to be able to process his visual signals. Who was the woman? Was this her mother?
Claire cursed her father silently. She didn’t want Campbell here. Now he was going to ask a whole host of questions she didn’t want to answer just yet. She’d wanted to keep her mother’s condition a secret, at least until after the test.
‘Do, please, come in.’
Campbell didn’t miss the anger, thinly veiled by sarcasm. ‘I’m sorry, Claire … I didn’t realise. Your father said you were in here. I assumed it was your bedroom.’
‘I told Dad I didn’t want to see you.’
‘Yes, he told me. Then he went out to get the paper and told me where you were. I think he approves of me.’
Campbell’s gaze returned to the occupant of the bed. She looked very frail, her papery skin stretched taut over her bones. She lay staring blankly into space. Campbell noticed drool pooling at the corner of her mouth.
It had to be Claire’s mother. Despite the ravages of an obviously debilitating disease, the likeness was striking. Campbell’s professional guess was a terminal illness of some kind. Probably cancer.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’
‘Campbell Deane, this is my mother, Mary West.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs West.’ Campbell raised his voice slightly.
Mary didn’t move. She didn’t blink or acknowledge his presence in any way. She continued to stare blankly at nothing in particular.
‘I need to talk to you, Claire.’ Campbell’s request was gentle. He saw her mouth thin and knew she was still angry with him.
Claire finished hanging the feed set and turned on the pump. ‘I’m going outside for a while, Mum.’ She stroked her mother’s hair as she spoke. ‘I’m going to talk to Campbell, I’ll be back shortly. We haven’t read the paper yet.’ Claire pressed a kiss against her mother’s forehead.
Campbell followed her out of the room and into the lounge. She walked to the window, keeping her back to him.
‘How long has she got?’ Campbell watched as she stiffened slightly then sighed and pressed her forehead to the glass.
‘The GP thinks months.’
‘Oh, Claire, I’m so sorry.’ He went to her and put his arms around her, pulling her into him. ‘All this time you’ve been dealing with your mum’s illness alone. Why didn’t you tell me? Everything’s so much clearer now. I’ve been making these demands … and all the time your mum’s been dying.’
‘My mother has nothing to do with our break-up. No, actually, that’s not true. She has everything to do with it, just not the way you think.’
Campbell tried not to feel dismay at the flatness in her voice. He put his hand in his jacket pocket, desperately searching for a way to reach her. His fingers came into contact with the crumpled piece of paper he had hastily shoved there earlier. It felt like a message coming from his unborn child.
He handed her the lab report. She took it and read it without blinking.
‘You’re pregnant.’
‘Yes.’
‘With my baby.’
‘Yes.’
Campbell wanted to swing her up in his arms and whoop for joy. ‘What are we going to do about it?’
‘We’re going to do nothing. I haven’t made up my mind yet. There are some … things I need to clarify first.’
Campbell heard the don’t-mess-with-me edge to her voice. ‘Don’t you want the baby?’ He tried not to sound as disbelieving and desperate as he felt.
Claire shut her eyes, wishing it were that simple. Tears suddenly threatened. She loved him so much.
‘Because I do, Claire. I do. I’m the father. I have rights, too.’
Claire felt as if she’d been holding herself erect for days now. Ever since the pregnancy had been confirmed. She had to be strong. She had to be. There were so many decisions still to make.
‘I’d hate to trample on your rights, Campbell, but trust me—’ sarcasm laced her voice ‘—it just isn’t that simple.’
‘Sure it is. You either love this baby or you don’t.’
You think I don’t love this baby?’ Claire felt the tears gather and was stung by his words.
‘I don’t know, Claire. I don’t understand any of this.’
‘Come with me,’ she snapped, and marched down the hallway, flinging her mother’s door open. ‘Look at her, Campbell. Look at her.’ Tears streamed unchecked down her face. ‘What’s your diagnosis?’
‘I don’t know. I assumed it was cancer.’
Claire’s brittle laugh echoed around the room.
‘Cancer? Oh, Campbell, cancer would be so simple. No, my mother has Huntington’s disease.’
Claire watched through her tears as realisation dawned on the face of the man she loved. ‘That’s right, Campbell, take a good look. This could be me in ten or twenty years. It could be our child. You want me to inflict this on our baby, because I sure as hell don’t. So don’t tell me I don’t love this child.’
She ran from the room, sobbing, brushing past a stunned Campbell. He stood stock-still, trying to analyse the information she’d just thrown at him. He searched his grey matter for what he could remember about Huntington’s.
It was a degenerative disease of the central nervous system. It slowly renders the sufferers incapable of normal body functions leading to premature death. And it was genetic.
So Claire could have inherited it. And so could the baby.
CHAPTER NINE
THINGS were starting to make sense now, Campbell thought as he took some time to sort through the jumble of thoughts spinning around in his head. Bits of the crazy puzzle were falling into place. This was what it had been about all along. This was why she’d pushed him away.
When he joined her a few minutes later she was sitting in a chair, her eyes red and puffy. She looked so miserable he ached to hold her. But now was not the time for that. It was finally time to clear the air.
‘Are you telling me you also have it?’
‘Not so cut and dried, is it?’
‘You think I’m going to run away because of this? You think I’m going to dump you because of this, like Shane did? I’m not him, Claire.’
‘You told me to my face that you would think twice about bringing a child into this world if there was a history of genetic illness. Well, that’s exactly what’s happened here, Campbell. So pardon me if I got the impression that you wouldn’t be interested.’
‘Just because I said I’d think twice, it doesn’t mean I’d abandon you because it’s happened. That CF couple planned their second baby knowing full well the possible consequences. This is different. It was an accident.’
‘Is it different because of that or different because it’s you?’
‘Claire, look, all that matters to me right now is our baby. And you. I love you. That’s all that matters—we’ll deal with the rest together. I know we can make this work.’
He loved her. Those three little words slammed right into her solar plexus. Her heart wanted to take flight and soar—he loved her. She wanted to go to him and tell him she loved him, too, but she held back.
She couldn’t confide her love until after the test. If it was negative, she could rejoice in his love and share hers in return. If it was positive, he must never know how she felt.
Claire didn’t want to burden him with an invalid and watch his love turn to sympathy and pity. They would always have to have a relationship because of their child, but she would never allow him to be an intimate part of her life if it turned out she had the disease.
‘You have no idea,’ she said quietly, shaking her head, quashing the elation she’d felt at his declaration.
‘Explain it to me, then. I am a doctor.’ She rose from the chair, still shaking her head.
‘It’s got nothing to do with the extent of your medical knowledge. It’s to do with the reality of the disease. In ten years I’ve watched my father become an old man. I’ve seen his heart break little by little and I know, I just know, that somewhere inside the shell that is now my mother she’s seen it, too. I don’t want that to be us. I don’t want it to be you. Why do you think I’ve pushed you away all this time?’
‘So you’ve had the predictive test?’
‘No.’
‘What do you mean—no?’ Campbell could hardly believe his ears.
Claire sighed. ‘It’s not so easy, Campbell. Mum was diagnosed ten years ago, and from that moment on I lost my mother. She gave up. Just took to her bed and waited to die. I was so determined that wasn’t going to be me. I refuse to let this disease define me, as my mother has. I’d rather not know than live my life under a death sentence.’
‘A simple blood test, Claire, that’s all it takes.’
‘I know that, Campbell. You think I don’t know that? It sounds so simple but the reality is terrifying. What if it’s positive?’
‘What if it’s negative?’
; ‘It’s all right for you. You’ve got what you wanted.’
‘What do I want, Claire?’ he asked softly.
‘You’ve got me in a position where you have a hold over me. You probably planned this all along. You probably used defective condoms.’
Campbell laughed. It felt good to get some relief from the intensity of their conversation.
‘This isn’t a joke for me. This is my life.’
‘I love you, Claire, and I understand you’re scared.’
‘Scared?’ His love and reassurance soothed the hysteria that threatened. ‘I’m terrified, Campbell. Do you know what it’s like to live day by day with this hanging over your head? Every time you drop something or forget something, you wonder, Is this it? Do I have it? And then having to watch as it ravages your mother, wondering all the time if this is going to be me.’
‘So get tested. Stop the guesswork.’
‘Relax, Campbell. I’m seeing my geneticist in a few days—I’ve already made the appointment. I know I have to take the test for the baby’s sake. I know that. I’m just … still in a state of shock about the pregnancy and I’m scared. I think I’m already experiencing some symptoms of Huntington’s.’
Campbell felt fear clutch his heart. Claire was scared and he wanted to comfort and support her through this. But how could he do that when he was so terrified himself? Frightened for Claire and for the baby. He loved her and he just couldn’t bear the thought of the woman he loved going through such mental anguish.
‘If you test positive—’ Campbell’s voice shook ‘—then we can have the baby tested.’
‘And if it’s positive?’ Claire shuddered at the thought.
‘Claire, this disease isn’t like CF. Its onset doesn’t start until later, right? So … medicine, genetics, is moving ahead in leaps and bounds. If the baby carries the gene, it’ll be, what … another thirty, forty years before it’s symptomatic, right? By then they’ll be able to selectively remove genes that cause diseases. They’ve already mapped DNA, it’s only a matter of time before genetic illnesses are obliterated.’
