I’ve watched her with Zach several times, and have seen the adoration on his face when he looks at her. He worships her, and the boys are so young. What will happen to them all if Summer dies?
My eyes fill with tears, and I blink them away hastily, knowing I can’t let the boys see them. I have to put on a brave face for them and for Albie, and the rest of Summer’s family at the Ark.
But Albie reaches out and holds my hand, and I know he’s spotted my emotion. He reads my mind, my moods, so easily. He understands me.
I bite my lip hard. I am not going to cry.
*
Simon proves to be a worthy trainee, and he helps me with the poodle, then helps Jules with a Ragdoll cat whose fur has become matted. Then it’s time for lunch, and a lot of us meet in the break room for a sandwich and to catch up on the news. Leon has just arrived back from dropping Summer and Zach off in Auckland, but nobody wants to talk about Summer while the boys are there. When they’ve eaten, though, Hal suggests they take Miss Daisy out to the garden, and the boys leave with the Border Collie, who looks delighted at the thought of playing soccer for a while.
“How are things?” Hal asks Leon.
Leon has a swig from a coffee cup, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “They’re trying to try to stabilize her before they begin the gene therapy. Her lung capacity is still below thirty percent and she has a high temperature. She’s in Charlie’s hands now.”
I remember the teasing relationship I witnessed between Charlie King and Summer on the night of the ball and swallow hard. Charlie must be out of his mind with worry.
“Is Ophelia there?” Izzy asks, naming Summer’s mother.
“Yes, and Dillon and his wife. Brock’s there, too,” Leon tells Hal. “He’s her actual doctor, but Charlie wouldn’t leave Summer’s side.”
“Jesus.” Hal runs his hand through his hair. Like all the others, his face is lined with worry. “This is so fucking awful. I know there’s always been a threat that a chest infection could turn serious, but this seems to have come so out of the blue.”
“We all tend to ignore it,” Albie says, somewhat fiercely. “The fact that she won’t live as long as the rest of us. We tell ourselves that none of us knows how long we’ve got, and that we could get run over by a bus tomorrow. But the truth is that her life expectancy is shorter than most people’s and this was always going to happen at some point.” He stops talking and stares at the floor for a moment. Then he gets up and walks out of the door, closing it quietly behind him.
“Oh dear,” I say. Should I go after him? My instinct is to want to comfort him, but I don’t know if he wants to be alone right now.
Hal’s watching me. “Summer was eight when Poppy was born,” he explains, “and nearly ten when Albie came along. Ophelia was worried she’d feel pushed out, but apparently Summer was never like that. She helped bring both of them up, and maybe because she has such a soft spot for Charlie, she understood that both Poppy and Albie had difficulty communicating. She’s always been close to both of them, and Albie’s very fond of her.”
“Do you think I should go after him?” I ask. “I want to, but…”
Leon nods and smiles. “He’d like that.”
I get to my feet and hesitate. “I am sorry about Summer. I know there is nothing I can do, but I just wanted to say… I am sorry.”
The guys both nod, and Hal winks at me. “Go on, go and find your man.”
My man. I walk out and scan the grounds for him. He’s not with the builders who are working on the old Ward Seven building, and I can’t see him in the square. Then I spot him, leaning on the fence looking across the field to the ocean.
I walk up to him and lean beside him. It’s a bright, blustery afternoon, the wind whipping the ocean into white horses. It’s cool, and I pull my jacket close around me. Albie glances at me, then returns his gaze to the view.
“Do you want me to go?” I ask. “Just say if you would rather be alone.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry I walked out.” His voice is husky. “It’s just… I couldn’t…”
I slip my arm around his waist. “You do not have to explain, Al-bear. Not to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Albie
After lunch, Zach rings, and I tell him I’ve taken the boys out of school.
“I hope you don’t mind,” I say. “They’re worried about their mom and I don’t think they were concentrating all that well.” I don’t tell him about Robbie getting into a fight. If Robbie wants to tell him, that’s up to him, but I’m not going to drop him in it.
“That’s fine,” Zach says. “As long as it’s all right with you; I don’t want to put you out.”
“There’s plenty for them to do at the Ark. This afternoon they’re going over to the petting farm with Poppy for an hour.”
“Good. Thanks, Albie.” Zach sounds tired; I doubt he’s slept much.
“Any news?” I ask gently.
“Not really. Charlie’s desperate to get started on the gene therapy, but Brock’s making him wait until Summer is stabilized.”
“Her lung function is still low?”
“And dropping.”
“Is she conscious?”
“Yes, but she’s very hazy because her temperature is really high. They’re trying all sorts of things to treat the pneumonia, including different antibiotics, but everything takes time.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, I’d better get back.”
“Of course. You know where I am.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I hang up and tuck the phone back into my jeans. Poppy has arrived to take the boys over to the petting farm. I tell her what Zach has said, and see my worry reflected in her eyes. We’ve both grown up with Summer, and we know what she’s been through, and how dangerous a chest infection is to her.
“How bad is it?” Poppy asks.
My older sister is the one person with whom I don’t have to watch my words. It’s impossible for us to offend each other because we both know how hard it is to get the right words to come out of our mouths. I don’t have to pretend with Poppy, to put on a brave face, or to give platitudes.
“It’s bad,” I reply. “Zach’s terrified. I can hear it in his voice.”
“Have you spoken to Dad?”
“Not yet. I don’t want to interrupt him when he’s busy. I know he’s going to be focused on Summer one hundred percent.”
“Mom’s there?”
“Yeah, and Dillon.”
“Do you think we should go down?” Her eyes are clear, honest. She’s asking whether there’s a risk we won’t see Summer again.
“Not yet,” I tell her. “We need to be here for the boys. If Zach asks for them, we’ll go down with them.”
“Okay.” She smiles as the boys come out, and Simon runs up and puts his arms around her. “Come on,” she tells them, “I’ve got some new rabbits that need feeding.” She leads them away to the nearby building. I watch them go, my stomach knotted with emotion. But standing around moping won’t help anyone, so I go back to my office and get back to work.
Remy and I take the boys home around three p.m. At Remy’s prompting, we stop at the supermarket on the way and pick up some groceries, and then when we arrive home, she gets the boys to help make the dough for pizza bases, following which we all load them with our favorite toppings. When they’re baked, we take them into the living room and watch The Fellowship of the Ring. The two boys and I know most of the lines off by heart, and we impress Remy with our rendition. It’s a long movie, and by the time it’s done, the boys are yawning. They both have a bath, and by nine-thirty they’re in bed.
I return to Remy, who’s still on the sofa, sit beside her, and put my arm around her. She curls up, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Thank you for all your help with the boys,” I say.
“It is a pleasure,” she says, yawning. “Shall we go to bed?”
“In a minute.” It’s warm in the living room
, and the lights are low. “I wish we could stay here and not have to face the real world. Sometimes it’s just too hard.”
“Summer will be all right,” she says, lifting a hand to cup my cheek. She gives me a light kiss on the lips. “Charlie will do everything in his power to make her better.”
“Yeah. I know he will. I have great faith in my father’s medical abilities. But he’s not God. If it’s her time…” I can’t finish the sentence.
Remy places her hand over my heart and rests her cheek back on my shoulder. “I will be here,” she says. “Whatever happens.”
I don’t reply. The fact is that after next Wednesday she won’t be here, and I’m going to have to deal with it on my own.
Remy’s murmuring something, and when I listen, I realize she’s saying the Lord’s Prayer in French. “Notre Père, qui es aux cieux, Que ton nom soit sanctifié, Que ton règne vienne, Que ta volonté soit faite sur la terre…”
I look out into the night. None of my family is particularly religious, but I’m willing to try anything right now. My lips move soundlessly in the darkness.
*
The next day, we take the boys to the Ark again, and spend the morning helping Ryan with about twenty cats that have been brought in after an old lady died. The boys help us to feed them and clean them, and I’m pleased that at least something has taken their minds off their mom for a little while.
Then, at three o’clock, Zach rings. I’m alone at my desk—the boys are with Remy and Jules, and I’d gone back to my office to answer my emails and make sure nothing urgent had come up.
“I think the boys need to come down,” Zach says.
I sit back in my seat. “What happened?”
“She had a pneumothorax this morning—a collapsed lung. CF patients sometimes have ulcer-like lesions on the outside of the lung, and if these pop, they release air into the lining of the lung. She has a chest tube to drain the air, and she’s in a lot of pain because the tube is rubbing the inside of the lung every time she breathes in and out. She needs to have an operation to remove the diseased part of the lung, and to glue the lung to the pleural sac—the lining—so it doesn’t collapse again; it’s called a pleurodesis. She wants to see the boys before she goes under.”
“I’ll get going straight away,” I tell him, rising.
“Brock’s sending the plane up for you,” Zach says, referring to the family’s private jet. “It’ll be at the Bay of Islands Airport by four o’clock.”
“I’ll meet it there—I’ll get the boys and come down with them.”
“Thanks.” Zach is brisk and businesslike. “See you when you get here.”
I hang up and go out and find Remy. She’s in the temporary grooming cabin, but comes out when she sees me, and I tell her what’s happened. “I will come with you,” she says.
“Are you sure? I don’t know how long we’ll be.”
“Do not worry about me, Albie. Concentrate on your family. Are you going to get Poppy?”
“Yeah. I’m sure she’ll want to come.” I go over to the petting farm and tell my sister, who hands over to the girl who works with her and collects her things. Then I go and find Remy and the boys.
*
By four-thirty, we’re on the Kings’ plane, heading for Auckland. The boys are quiet, and they sit and eat the light meal the flight attendant brings them while playing a game together on Robbie’s phone. I sit and talk to Poppy and Remy. I don’t want to eat, but Remy makes me have a sandwich, saying it’s going to be a long day, and it’s best we try to keep our strength up.
We land at Auckland and catch a couple of taxis. By six p.m., we’re at the hospital, and Brock comes to meet us.
“Hey, guys.” My uncle gives me a bear hug, then Poppy, smiles at Remy, and gives the boys a hug as they rush up to greet him.
“How’s Mom?” Robbie asks.
“Stubborn as,” Brock replies with a smile. “Come on, I’ll take you to see her.”
He leads us through the ward to the waiting room opposite Summer’s room. Zach comes out as we arrive and throws his arms around the two boys as they run up to him. He gives us a brief smile, then drops to his haunches in front of the boys.
“Your mom has to have an operation soon,” he explains. “She has to have part of her lung removed. At the moment she has a tube going into her chest to take away the air that shouldn’t be there.”
“Is she in pain?” Robbie whispers.
Zach hesitates. “Yes, a bit. But you mustn’t be frightened, okay? She wants to see you.”
The boys nod, both pale, and he takes their hands and leads them into the room. A second later, Dillon—Summer’s dad—comes out. He glances at us and gestures hello, but walks off down the corridor.
Brock turns to us. His gray hair looks ruffled, as if he’s been running his hands through it, although his voice when he speaks is calm. It reminds me how long he’s been a doctor, and how many families he must have comforted over the years.
“How are you all doing?” he asks.
“We’re okay,” I reply. “How’s Summer, really?”
He gestures to the comfy chairs, and we all take a seat. “Zach told you about the pneumothorax?”
“The collapsed lung? Yes.”
“She needs to have a pleurodesis, to make sure it doesn’t happen again, but we need to wait.”
“Why? Zach said the op was going ahead as soon as she’s seen the boys.”
“Her temperature is too high because of the infection.”
“It’s gone up this afternoon?”
“Yes, it’s risen to 106. We need to get it under control before we can think of putting her under.”
“And the gene therapy?”
“We need to stabilize her first, then do the operation, and then get started with the gene therapy, in that order.”
“And if you can’t get her stabilized?”
Brock just meets my gaze, and doesn’t say anything.
I swallow hard. “Right.”
“Oh dear,” Poppy says.
“We’re doing everything we can,” he tries to reassure us. “There’s every chance she’ll pull through, she’s a strong lass, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t give you the whole picture. She’s very poorly. All we can do now is wait and let her body fight the infection.”
“How long before we know?” I ask.
He takes a deep breath. “If she makes it through the night, it’s a good first step.”
Jesus. I knew it was bad for Zach to ask the boys to come down, but it’s shocking to put it into perspective like that.
“Can we see her?” I ask.
He nods, rising. “When the boys come out, and not for long.” He leaves us and goes back into Summer’s room.
Poppy has turned ashen, and Remy’s face is filled with sorrow. “I am so sorry,” she whispers to us both.
“She’ll make it,” I say fiercely. “Summer’s not going without a fight. She has her boys, and she was talking the other day about things she wants to do at the Ark. She’s not ready yet.”
“That is right,” Remy says. “She will battle through it.”
But of course it’s all words. Only time will tell now.
The boys come out with Zach. Simon is crying and Robbie is trying to reassure him, even though he himself is pale and his bottom lip is wobbling. Zach sits on a sofa with them and they curl up beside him. He looks dead tired, and he gives us a sad smile. “You can go in now.”
“I will make us all a coffee,” Remy says, rising and going over to the kitchen area in the corner.
I rise and take Poppy’s hand, and the two of us go into Summer’s room.
It’s relatively dark, except for all the lights that flash on the monitors beside the bed. A nurse is there, changing the bag on the drip. Brock and Dad are standing to one side, talking quietly. Mom is beside the bed, holding Summer’s hand. Dad comes over as we walk in, and he hugs Poppy, then me. “It’s good to see you,” he tells us.
&n
bsp; I feel reassured just by seeing him there. He looks tired, but he has that steely look in his eyes that I know so well—he’s one hundred percent focused, absolutely determined to conquer this.
“Why’s it so dark?” I ask.
“She has a bad headache because of the high temperature,” he says quietly. “Just a few minutes now. She needs to rest.”
I nod, and Poppy and I go over to the bed. Mom rises and she and Poppy exchange a big hug.
I move closer to Summer. She looks so tiny in the bed. She’s not big anyway, and with all the equipment and tubes coming out of her, she looks like a child. She has an oxygen mask, and I can see where the tube is exiting her chest.
“Hey, Trouble,” she whispers. “With a capital T.” It’s what she’s called me as long as I can remember.
“Hey, Sis.” I lean forward, avoiding all the tubes, and kiss her forehead. “How’s the head?”
“Fine,” she says, and her lips twist beneath the mask.
“I love you,” I tell her. “You know that, right?”
She smiles. “Albie… if anything happens… look after Zach and the boys, won’t you?”
“Summer…”
“They’ll take it hard. They’ll need help. Promise me.”
I could say to her stop talking like that, you’re going to be fine, don’t talk rubbish. But she knows me well; she knows I speak from the heart. She doesn’t want platitudes.
“I promise,” I tell her. “But I’m telling you, it’s not your time, Summer. Not yet. There’s too much to do at the Ark, and your boys need you. I know it’s hard, but you need to fight this thing. Don’t give in.”
“I won’t.”
I kiss her forehead again. “We’re all here for you.”
“Love you, Albie.”
“Love you too, sweetheart.” I move back and let Poppy take my place.
Mom’s standing waiting, and I put my arms around her. “You okay?” I ask. My voice is a little hoarse.
She rests her cheek on my chest. “Not really.”
“I’m so sorry, Mom.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s one of those things.”
My Roommate, the Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 3) Page 20
