LITMIR.BIZ

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just... I just wanted to ask you more about what you said yesterday. I tried to explain to Peter last night but I think I made it sound a lot worse than...than you did...’ Julia was fighting tears now.

      Thomas nudged the box of tissues on the coffee table closer and Julia gratefully pulled several out.

      ‘You mean the ventricular assist device?’

      Julia nodded, the wad of tissues pressed to her face.

      ‘You said...you said it would be the next step, when...if...things got worse.’

      Thomas kept his tone gentle. ‘They sound scary, I know, but it’s something that’s often used as a bridge to transplant. For when heart failure is resistant to medical therapy, the way Penny’s is becoming.’

      ‘And you said it might make her a lot better in the meantime?’

      ‘It can improve circulation and can reverse some of the other organ damage that heart failure can cause.’

      ‘But it’s risky, isn’t it? It’s major surgery...’

      ‘I wouldn’t suggest it if the risks of going on as we are were less than the risks of the surgery. I know Penny’s having a better day today but you already know how quickly that can change and it gets a little more difficult to control every time.’

      Julia blew her nose. ‘I know. That last time she had to go to intensive care, we thought...we thought we were going to lose her...’

      ‘I know.’ Thomas needed to take in a slow breath. To step away mentally and get back onto safe ground. Professional ground.

      ‘A VAD could make Penny more mobile again and improve her overall condition so that when a transplant becomes available, the chances of it being successful are that much higher. It’s a longer term solution to control heart failure and they can last for years, but yes, it is a major procedure. The device is attached to the heart and basically takes over the work of the left ventricle by bypassing it. Let’s make a time for me to sit down with both you and Peter and I can talk you through it properly.’

      Julia had stopped crying. Her eyes were wide.

      ‘What do you mean by “more mobile”? Would we be able to take her home again while we wait?’

      ‘I would hope so.’ Thomas nodded. ‘She would be able to go back to doing all the things she would normally do at home. Maybe more, even.’

      Julia had her fingers pressed against her lips. Her voice was no more than a whisper. ‘Like...like dancing lessons, maybe?’

      Oh...he had to look away from that hope shining through the new tears in Julia’s eyes. The wall of the relatives’ room was a much safer place.

      ‘I’ll tell Peter when he comes in after work. How soon can we make an appointment to talk about it?’

      ‘Talk to Maria on the ward reception desk. She seems to know my diary as well as I do.’ He got to his feet, still not risking a direct glance at Julia’s face.

      From the corner of his eye, he could see Julia turn her head. Was she wondering what had caught his attention?

      He was being rude. He turned back to his patient’s mother but now Julia was staring at the wall.

      ‘My life seems to be full of teddy bears,’ she said.

      Thomas blinked at the random comment. ‘Oh? You mean the dancing kind?’

      ‘And here, look. This is about the Teddy Bears’ Picnic in Regent’s Park. Well, Primrose Hill, actually. For transplant families.’

      The poster had only been a blur of colour on the wall but now Thomas let his gaze focus.

      And then he wished he hadn’t.

      Right in the middle of a bright collage of photos was one of a surgeon, wearing green theatre scrubs, with a small child in her arms. The toddler was wearing only a nappy so the scar down the centre of her chest advertised her major cardiac surgery. The angelic little girl, with her big, blue eyes and mop of golden curls, was beaming up at her doctor and the answering smile spoke of both the satisfaction of saving a small life and a deep affection for her young patient.

      ‘That’s Dr Scott,’ Julia said. ‘Rebecca. But you know that, of course.’

      Of course he did.

      ‘She did the surgery on Penny when she was a baby—but you know that too. How silly of me. You were her doctor back then, too.’ Julia made an apologetic face. ‘So much has happened since then, it becomes a bit of a blur, sometimes.’

      ‘Yes.’ Thomas was still staring at Rebecca’s face. Those amazing dark, chocolate-coloured eyes which had been what had caught his attention first, all those years ago, when he’d spotted her in one of his classes at medical school. The gleaming, straight black hair that was wound up into a knot on the back of her head, the way it always was when she was at work.

      That smile...

      He hadn’t seen her look that happy since...well, since before their daughter had died.

      She certainly hadn’t shown him even a hint of a smile like that in the months since he’d returned to Paddington’s.

      Had Julia not realised they had been husband and wife at the time they’d shared Penny’s care in the weeks after her birth?

      Well, why would she? They had kept their own names to avoid any confusion at work and they’d always been completely professional during work hours. Friendly professional, though—nothing like the strained relationship between them now. And Julia and Peter had had far more on their minds than how close a couple of people were amongst the team of medics trying to save their tiny daughter.

      ‘She was just a surgeon, back then.’

      Thomas had to bite back a contradiction. Rebecca had never been ‘just’ a surgeon. She’d been talented and brilliant and well on the way to a stellar career from the moment she’d graduated from medical school.

      ‘Isn’t it amazing that she’s gone on to specialise in transplants?’

      ‘Mmm.’ Sometimes the traumatic events that happened in life could push you in a new direction but Thomas couldn’t say that out loud, either. If Julia didn’t know about the personal history that might have prompted the years of extra study to add a new field of expertise to Rebecca’s qualifications, he was the last person who would enlighten her.

      Sharing something like that was an absolute no-no when you were keeping a professional distance from patients and their families. And from your ex-wife.

      ‘It’s amazing for us, anyway,’ Julia continued. ‘Because it means that she’ll be able to do Penny’s transplant if we’re lucky enough to find a new heart for her...’ Her voice wobbled. ‘It might be us going to one of these picnics next year. I’ve heard of them. Did you see the programme on telly a while back, when they had all those people talking about how terrible it would be if Paddington’s got closed?’

      ‘I don’t think I did.’ The media coverage over the threatened closure had become so intense it had been hard to keep up with it all, especially since Sheikh Al Khalil had announced last month that he would be donating a substantial sum of money following his daughter’s surgery.

      ‘Well, they had a clip from last year’s picnic. They were talking to a mother who had lost her child through some awful accident and she had made his organs available for transplant. She said she’d never been brave enough to try and make contact with the families of the children who had received them, but she came to the picnic and imagined that someone there might be one of them. She watched them running their races and playing games and saw how happy they were. And how happy their families were...’

      Julia had to stop because she was crying again, even though she was smiling. Thomas was more than relieved. He couldn’t have listened any longer. He was being dragged into a place he never went these

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