Saving Baby Amy

He was absolutely right and wishing that Jon would come with her, in the hope that he might be able to conquer Hannah’s fears as effortlessly as he’d conquered Amy’s, was just selfish. Amy needed someone with her here, and Hannah needed some support too. This was the obvious solution.

‘Are you sure? I don’t know how long I’ll be.’

‘I’m fine here until my shift starts. You’ll be back by then?’

‘Yes, I’ll make sure if it. With or without Hannah.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Have you eaten?’ He shook his head, as if that didn’t really matter. ‘I’ll get you something. I’ve got some rosehip teabags if you’d like tea?’

From the look on his face, rosehip teabags didn’t quite hit the spot. ‘Thanks, but...actually anything with caffeine and a few calories would be great. And a drink for Amy. My wallet’s in my jacket pocket.’

He picked Amy up, soothing her gently. Chloe ignored his jacket and made for the door. The least she could do for him was to stand him breakfast, even if it was just a sandwich from the canteen.

* * *

Chloe had left a large cup of coffee and a sandwich from the canteen perched on the window sill, well out of Amy’s reach. Then she’d hugged Amy, gifted Jon with a smile that had been as delicious as it had been hurried, and had left.

‘Just you and me, then, eh?’ He rocked Amy in his arms. She was becoming increasingly fretful, and the sooner he started the antibiotic drip the better. He’d sent one of the nurses to get what he needed, and he was alone for a moment.

‘Don’t you worry, now, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay, and we’ll make you better.’ Making Amy better was reasonably straightforward. Making everything okay was a lot more fraught with uncertainty. Hannah hadn’t just been distressed when she’d arrived at Chloe’s house, there had been a wild look in her eyes that had told Jon she was very close to breaking point. He’d been loath to leave her alone, but Hannah hadn’t given him much choice in the matter.

‘Mum-eee...’ Amy’s little face started to scrunch up and tears escaped her eyes. Jon held her close, soothing her.

‘All right. Mummy’s coming.’ Not straight away but soon, he hoped. ‘You want to know a secret, Amy?’

‘I love secrets...’ Jon jumped as someone spoke. He hadn’t heard the calm-faced nurse re-enter the room, and when he turned she was standing behind him.

‘This one is that I’m gasping for that cup of coffee over there.’ Jon gave her a smile and a shrug when her lip curled slightly in disbelief.

‘I’ll take her. Go and drink your coffee.’

‘Thanks.’

He’d leave the real secret until later. It was one thing to tell Amy that her Aunt Chloe was one of the most beautiful women he’d seen in a long while but, then, Amy could be relied on not to syphon that information into the hospital gossip network. Neither would she betray the part about Chloe’s special magic. Jon couldn’t quite put his finger on what kind of magic it was, but he wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t recognise it was there.

He sipped his coffee, watching as the nurse busied herself, trying to tell himself that he shouldn’t be shaken by any of this. It was straightforward. A housemate for six weeks while he made his own place habitable. A child who needed his help. It was neat and clean and nothing that he couldn’t deal with.

Not like his marriage. Jon had often wondered whether the time bomb that had finally blown everything apart had been primed on his and Helen’s wedding day. Ticking away the moments of pure happiness, measuring all the times that attention to two blossoming careers had demanded they spend apart, and tallying up each moment of tired indifference. Then exploding suddenly, sending shards of vitriol that scattered themselves across every aspect of Jon’s life, embedding themselves deep into his heart.

A heart that had been hardened by time, but now felt under attack. Chloe’s house was a long way away from the perfect, magazine-cover home that he and Helen had shared, but he’d found himself suddenly at ease there, as if he’d just pulled on a favourite shirt. Maybe it was a little frayed in places but it was warm and comfortable, fitting him perfectly. And if her house made him yearn for something he didn’t have, then Chloe herself turned an obscure ache into an urgent stab of longing.

‘Chloe’s gone now?’ The nurse interrupted his reverie.

‘Yeah.’

‘So you’re left holding the baby...’ The nurse bent down, smoothing Amy’s brow in a motion of comfort. ‘Pretty little thing, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, she is.’ Jon had always assumed that Amy’s light auburn curls and the freckles across her nose must be inherited from her father. But some quirk of genetics had rendered the little girl the image of her aunt, right down to her honey-brown eyes.

The feeling that he was being sucked in by Chloe’s eyes wasn’t an entirely unpleasant one. But he was in control of his life now. He could decide to ignore whatever part of Chloe he wanted to.

‘This is the last thing Chloe needs right now. I hope she doesn’t overdo things.’ The nurse smoothed the blanket over Amy in one of those entirely unnecessary acts of caring that always made Jon proud to be part of a team.

‘I heard she’d been ill.’

‘Yes. I don’t think that any of the doctors down here could miss a case of Guillain-Barré syndrome if they tried. Chloe made sure of that.’

The thought made Jon smile. Guillain-Barré was enough to deal with on its own, without undertaking an information awareness exercise. But somehow he expected no less of Chloe.

‘She shared her experience?’

‘You bet she did. Before she could even walk, she persuaded someone to wheel her down here and told the senior houseman that if any of the juniors hadn’t seen Guillain-Barré before, she was ready to be examined. It was pretty painful for her, but she sat through it and slurred her way through all of their questions as well.’

‘That’s...’ Suddenly Jon couldn’t find the words.

‘Beyond the call of duty, I’d say.’

‘Yeah. Way beyond...’ If Chloe could do that, then backing off now was suddenly unthinkable. Jon put his cup down, ignoring the film-wrapped sandwich. ‘Why don’t you get on, now? I’ve everything I need here, and I’ll make sure that Amy’s all right.’

* * *

Chloe had expected to find that Hannah was upset, but the reality had been much worse. Hannah had been sitting in the lounge, her arms wound around her stomach, her face impassive apart from the tears that had trickled down her cheeks. She’d looked almost as if she was in shock, rocking slightly as if to comfort herself.

Chloe had made a cup of tea and they’d talked for a while. Or rather Chloe had done most of the talking, while Hannah had listened disinterestedly, as if the words had meant nothing to her. But Chloe knew she’d got through to Hannah because when she’d suggested that she come and see Amy, to make sure she was all right, Hannah had stood up and put on her jacket.

Jon had left a message with the paediatric A and E receptionist, and Chloe led Hannah up to the children’s ward. She could see him, sitting next to Amy’s cot, through the large window that divided the ward from the reception area, and when he caught sight of them, he rose.

‘How is she?’ Hannah’s first question for Jon was the one she’d asked Chloe as soon as she’d walked through the door.

‘She’s doing well. I wanted her admitted to hospital as a precaution, but the antibiotics will clear the UTI and she’ll be fine.’ His voice was gentle but very firm, as if just saying it was going to make it happen.

‘I’m sorry.’ There was nothing but dull despair in Hannah’s voice.

‘There’s nothing to be sorry for. You did exactly the right thing for Amy. I wish that some other mothers were as sensible as you.’

Hannah looked up at him. Jon seemed to be making about as much impression on Hannah as Chloe had, but he was trying. And somewhere, on some level, Hannah must be hearing all of this.

‘Why don’t you come and see her, eh?’ Jon picked up Hannah’s hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm. He flashed a smile towards Chloe and she nodded. She’d done her best to convince Hannah that she was a good mother and she’d done nothing wrong, but Hannah had just shrugged. ‘You’re my sister, you would say that.’ Maybe the words would have greater weight if they came from someone else.

She watched as Jon walked Hannah into the ward, getting her to sit down in the chair that he’d been occupying. He gestured towards the drip, obviously explaining everything that was being done for Amy, and waited as Hannah slowly reached out to touch Amy’s hand. Then he turned, walking out of the ward to stand next to Chloe.

‘She seems...fragile.’ Jon was watching Hannah and Amy intently.

‘Yes, she is.’ Chloe looked up at him, but he didn’t return her gaze. ‘She’s doing a good job of beating herself up over what’s happened.’

Jon frowned. ‘What has happened? As far as I can see, Hannah thought that there was something wrong with Amy and did everything she could to get the proper medical treatment for her.’

If only he would look at her. Chloe could really do with just a moment in the warmth of his reassurance. But it seemed that was carefully rationed, and that only Amy and Hannah were entitled to it.

‘When she went to see the doctor, she said that he looked at Amy and said it was most likely just a virus, and to call him immediately if she was worried. Hannah started to cry and he asked a lot of questions about how she was doing. She thinks that the doctor put all of her worries about Amy down to her own mental state.’

The frown deepened. ‘Hannah was crying when I saw her. And she had a sick baby...’

‘Yes. Well, that was a few hours later and maybe Amy’s symptoms were a lot more pronounced.’ Or maybe Jon was just a good doctor, who understood people. ‘Apparently Hannah’s been to her doctor before, about feeling she can’t cope.’

‘You knew this?’

That was the bitterest part of it. Hannah had been in trouble and she hadn’t said anything. ‘No. Neither did James.’

‘What are you going to do?’ He turned suddenly, and the warmth in his face cut through the feeling that Chloe had failed Hannah yet again. This time, it was all going to be different.

‘I’ve given James a call. He’s on holiday in Cornwall, but he’s driving back up tonight and he’ll stay with Hannah at my place. I’ll stay here with Amy, and we can talk in the morning.’

‘Sounds like a plan. If there’s anything I can do...’ He shrugged, as if he couldn’t think of what that anything might be. A moment in his arms perhaps. Having him tell her that everything was going to be fine. But that was something that could only be given, not asked for.

‘You’ve done a great deal already. I’m very grateful.’ If that sounded a lot like a thank you and goodbye, then maybe it was. Relying on other people to help her was only going to lead to disappointment.

‘It’s nothing. Just paying it forward.’ Chloe shot him a querying look. ‘James was very good to me when my marriage broke up, he put me up until I found a place of my own. That was when I got to know Hannah.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise—’

‘It’s water under the bridge now.’ The downward quirk of his lips told Chloe that even if it was, it was something that still pained him. ‘From what James tells me, you were dealing with your own problems at that time. I’ve only ever come across one case of Guillain-Barré syndrome but I know it’s a tough journey to take.’

It had been tough, suddenly losing any sensation other than pain in both legs and one arm, contending with the real fear that the accompanying paralysis might keep spreading until it reached her chest and the other side of her face.

‘That’s water under the bridge, too.’

Suddenly he was looking at her again, his face suffused with all the warmth that he’d offered to Amy and Hannah. ‘You’re sure about that. Because if you can’t cope...’

‘I can cope.’ The words were defensive on her lips.

‘Sorry.’

‘No...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.’ It wasn’t Jon’s fault that few of the promises that had been made around her hospital bed had come to fruition. That both Jake and her best friend had sworn they’d stand by her through this, and they’d ended up standing by each other.

Chloe took a deep breath, trying to puff out the echoes of the lonely despair she’d felt when she’d realised that her partner and her friend were now an item and that neither of them had the guts to come and tell her. This wasn’t the time to be raking over old memories because she had to think about the challenges of the present.

‘Look, I...I couldn’t give Hannah the support she needed when I was ill. I can now.’

He nodded. ‘And that’s important to you.’

‘Yes, it is. Hannah’s not had an easy time, she was so young when our parents died. James and I tried to help her through it, but we were both at university and neither of us were in a position to give her a stable home. My mother’s sister fostered her, and... Aunt Sylvie’s very kind, very loving, but Hannah always wanted to live with me. When she was fifteen I took her.’

‘But you fell ill?’

‘Yes, and Hannah went to live with James. I don’t think she really understood why I wouldn’t keep her. She told me that she’d help look after me, but I didn’t want to make her into my carer. She deserved more than that.’

The frank approval in his eyes meant a lot more than it should. Chloe had wanted his understanding, craved his warmth, and now that she had it, it was too much to bear. She looked away, staring at Hannah and Amy.

‘Hannah was almost sixteen when she ran away. I couldn’t help look for her, I could hardly manage to get out of the house. It was James who found her and brought her back, and he was the one who looked after her when she realised that she was pregnant.’

‘And you think you let Hannah down?’ His tone suggested that Jon thought quite the opposite, but Chloe begged to differ.

‘I think that Hannah and Amy need me right now. And that I’m going to be there for both of them.’ It was too late to save Hannah from the turbulence of her teenage years, but she would find a way to put things right now. Because this time it wasn’t only a matter of saving Hannah, it was a matter of saving Amy, too.

CHAPTER THREE

IT HAD BEEN a restless night, sleeping in the folding bed next to Amy’s cot, and so far the morning hadn’t been much easier. Chloe hadn’t seen Jon when she’d returned home to talk to Hannah and James, and she’d assumed that he’d escaped over to his place when his shift had ended this morning.

But when she got back to the hospital he was there, sitting in the chair next to Amy’s cot with Amy on his lap, talking to her and gently stopping her from grabbing at the bandage on her arm that covered the cannula.

‘She’s a lot better this morning.’ One of the nurses had stopped at Chloe’s side, and Chloe dragged her gaze away from Jon. Each time she saw him with Amy it was impossible not to notice that someone so strong could be so gentle.

‘Does he usually check up on his patients like this?’

The nurse grinned. ‘He’s no stranger up here, he often pops in to see how the children he’s had admitted are doing. He seems to have taken a bit of a shine to Amy, though.’

It seemed that he had. And Amy had clearly taken a bit of a shine to Jon, looking up at him, her hand reaching to touch his face.

But Chloe was here now. And she could cope. Thanking the nurse, she walked into the ward.

‘Good morning.’ Jon had been so bound up with Amy that he’d failed to register Chloe’s approach until she’d spoken.

He made to deliver Amy into her arms, and the little girl started to cry, clinging on to him. Jon pulled an embarrassed face, which didn’t quite conceal his pleasure at Amy being so determined not to let him go, and Chloe motioned for him to stay as he was.

‘How are things?’ He took a moment out from Amy to ask the question.

‘We’re getting there. I think...’ Chloe took her jacket off and sat down. ‘James is taking Hannah back down to Cornwall with him, and I’m going to look after Amy for a while.’

His attention was suddenly all hers. ‘She doesn’t want to stay here?’

‘She’s...’ Chloe shrugged. ‘She’s got it into her head that I can look after Amy better than she can. Maybe that’s true for the moment. Hannah definitely needs a break so she can think things through.’

‘And when she has?’ Concern was etched deep into his face.

‘When she has, she’ll see that she’s a great mother and that James and I are both here for her to give her all the support she needs to make a good life for herself and for Amy.’

‘Sounds good to me.’

‘You don’t seem very convinced.’ He obviously knew as well as Chloe did that things probably weren’t going to be as easy as that.

He shrugged. ‘I’m...not really the one to ask about families.’

‘You mean the kids are a lot less complicated?’

‘Now you mention it...’ Amy grabbed at his nose and he gave her a look of exaggerated shock. Then he pinched her nose, putting his thumb between his fingers as he pulled his hand away and showing it to Amy.

‘Mine...!’ Amy reached for his hand.

‘That’s your nose, is it?’ Jon wiggled his thumb and Amy nodded.

It was almost painful to watch. All the support and love that anyone could want, and which Chloe couldn’t bring herself to trust in. But Jon had just said it himself. Something had persuaded him that families weren’t his strong point, and for him it was all about the children.

He was busy replacing Amy’s nose and threading an imaginary needle to stitch it back on again while Amy held it in place. ‘How’s that, then? Let Auntie Chloe have a look, see if I’ve got it straight.’

‘It’s straight...’ Suddenly the game seemed too good to end it here. Chloe clapped her hand theatrically over her mouth. ‘Call yourself a doctor? Amy...he’s put your nose back on upside down!’

Amy pulled at her nose, inspecting her empty hand, and Jon laughed.

‘Look, this is the way you do it... Perhaps Auntie Chloe can do a better job putting it back on again.’ A flash of his blue eyes, full of intoxicating fun. ‘She’s obviously the expert around here.’

The make-believe needle and thread was handed over to Chloe, and she pulled her chair a little closer. Amy held her nose on, giggling, while Chloe pretended to sew it back, her knees almost touching Jon’s. When he leaned over to gently untangle the drip attached to Amy’s arm, his fingers brushed hers, making her shiver.

‘Perfect.’ Jon inspected her handiwork, then dropped a kiss onto his finger, planting it on Amy’s nose then lifting the little girl onto Chloe’s lap.

‘Are you okay here?’ He pulled his chair back, as if he knew that suddenly he’d got altogether too close. ‘What about Amy’s things?’

‘James is dealing with that. He’s taking Hannah back to her place to pack and then he’ll drop Amy’s things back at my place and take Hannah on down to Cornwall.’

Jon nodded. ‘I guess Cornwall’s not so far. If Hannah needs to come back.’

‘Yes.’ Chloe sighed. ‘I hate them being apart but... Hannah seems to need some time at the moment. And some sleep as well.’

‘Yeah. I can identify with that.’ He rubbed one hand across his face, seeming suddenly drawn.

‘Why don’t you go home and get some rest? James and Hannah will be gone by now and I’ll give them a call and tell them not to wake you up when they get back with Amy’s things.’

‘You want anything before I go? Something to eat?’

‘No, I’ve eaten. Go.’

Amy seemed to have run out of energy too, and Chloe felt her snuggle against her, refusing to wake up and wave goodbye to Jon. He grinned, brushing Amy’s cheek with his finger, and Chloe watched his back as he walked away.

He turned for one final wave through the window from the lobby outside. Even distance, even the glass couldn’t dim the bright blue of his tired eyes and Chloe wished that he wasn’t leaving her behind.

It was the first step on a long and slippery slope. A look, a shared smile that would catapult her into neediness and leave her in a tangled heap on the floor when Jon went his own way. However much she liked his smile, it just wasn’t worth it.

Amy started to fret in her arms and Chloe leaned down to comfort her. ‘It’s going to be okay, Amy. Everything’s going to be okay, you’ll see.’

* * *

Jon hadn’t thought that a battered teddy bear and a bar of chocolate could possibly be such controversial items. He’d selected the teddy bear from the bag of toys that James had left in the hall while he’d slept, reckoning that the most worn was probably the most loved. And the chocolate was the same seventy per cent cocoa blend that he’d found stashed away at the back of one of the kitchen cabinets.

But when he’d gone to the children’s ward that evening, Chloe had looked at them both as if they were poisoned. She propped the teddy bear up in Amy’s cot, leaving the chocolate untouched on the locker.

‘Isn’t your shift about to start?’ It was a clear invitation for him to go, even if he’d only just arrived. He probably should go, but something stopped him. Maybe the fact that no one in their right mind refused a visitor when they were in hospital, and that Chloe’s attitude betrayed some other worry.

‘Not for another hour.’ He drew up a chair and sat down. He could probably find somewhere else to be, but sleep had rearranged his muddled thoughts, and on waking the decision had seemed obvious. Chloe needed help, and he was there to give it.

She hesitated. She looked different tonight, softer, dressed in a pair of casual trousers with a top that he reckoned was supposed to slide from one shoulder to reveal the strap of a cotton vest underneath. The warmth in here had touched her cheeks with pink, and her hair curled loosely around her face in what seemed like an invitation to touch.

Clearly that invitation wasn’t extended to him. And even if it had been, Jon had no intention of taking it up. The decision on that point had been clear, too. Help out, but don’t touch.

‘You don’t need to do this.’ She pressed her lips together, and they too became a little pinker. Jon wondered whether they tasted pink, and dismissed the thought with no more than a moment’s regret.

‘Do what?’

‘You know...’ A small, delicious frown indicated that Chloe understood quite well that he was going to make her explain. ‘We all really appreciate what you did yesterday, Jon. But you don’t have to feel responsible for us, just because... You have other things to be getting on with.’

For a moment he couldn’t imagine what those other things might be. Chloe and Amy seemed more important than anything.

‘My house, you mean?’

‘Yes. And your job.’

‘I imagine the builders will be quite pleased to find that I haven’t been interfering with things over the weekend. And my job doesn’t require twenty-four-hour input.’

‘All the same...’ She shrugged. ‘Amy and I are fine, really. We’re not your problem.’

He was beginning to feel that they were—which was a problem in itself. But Jon could handle it.

‘I can help, can’t I? It’s never easy, taking responsibility for a sick child.’

‘No, but I can manage. You don’t need to keep popping in to see if we’re all right.’

Leaning forward, he picked up the chocolate, unwrapping one end and breaking off a piece. ‘Okay. I get it. You’re managing.’

The look on her face, when he started to eat, was a classic. Clearly she had reckoned on saving the chocolate and eating it when he was safely out of the way. He hesitated for a moment before he popped a second piece into his mouth and she broke suddenly.

‘You’re eating my chocolate.’

Jon grinned, as innocently as he could manage. ‘Yeah. Since you’re managing so well, I thought you wouldn’t want it.’

She seemed on the cusp of either smiling or sulking. Chloe went for the smile. ‘That’s different. Don’t you know that some people have a special relationship with chocolate?’