A Life-Saving Reunion
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Alison Roberts
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Chapter One
HE’D KNOWN THIS wasn’t going to be easy.
He’d known that some cases were going to be a lot harder than others.
But Dr Thomas Wolfe had also known that, after the very necessary break, he had been ready to go back to the specialty that had always been his first love.
Paediatric cardiology.
Mending broken little hearts...
And some not so little, of course. Paddington Children’s Hospital cared for an age range from neonates to eighteen-year-olds. After dealing only with adults for some years now, Thomas was probably more comfortable interacting with the adolescents under his care here but he’d more than rediscovered his fascination with babies in the last few months. And the joy of the children who were old enough to understand how sick they were, brave kids who could teach a lot of people things about dealing with life.
Or kids that touched your heart and made doing the best job you possibly could even more of a priority. It had to be carefully controlled, mind you. If you let yourself get too close, it could not only affect your judgement, but it could also end up threatening to destroy you.
And Thomas Wolfe wasn’t about to let that happen again.
He had to pause for a moment, standing in the central corridor of Paddington’s cardiology ward, right beside the huge, colourful cut-outs of Pooh Bear and friends that decorated this stretch of wall between the windows of the patients’ rooms. Tigger seemed to be grinning down at him—mid-bounce—as Thomas pretended to read a new message on his pager.
This had become the hardest case since he’d returned to Paddington’s. A little girl who made it almost impossible to keep a safe distance. Six-year-old Penelope Craig didn’t just touch the hearts of people who came to know her. She grabbed it with both hands and squeezed so hard it was painful.
It wasn’t that he needed a moment to remind himself how important it was to keep that distance, because he had been honing those skills from the moment he’d stepped back through the doors of this astonishing, old hospital and they were already ingrained enough to be automatic. He just needed to make sure the guardrails were completely intact because if there was a weak area, Penny would be the one to find it and push through.
And that couldn’t be allowed to happen.
With a nod, as if he’d read an important message on his pager, Thomas lifted his head and began moving towards the nearest door. There was no hesitation as he tapped to announce his arrival and then entered the room with a smile.
His smile faltered for a split second as Julia Craig, Penny’s mother, caught his gaze with the unspoken question that was always there now.
Is today the day?
His response was as silent as the query.
No. Today’s not the day.
The communication was already well practised enough to be no slower than the blink of an eye. Penny certainly hadn’t noticed.
‘Look, Dr Wolfe! I can dance.’
The fact that Penny was out of her bed meant that today was one of her better ones. She still had her nasal cannula stuck in place with a piece of sticky tape on each cheek, the long plastic tube snaking behind her to where it connected with the main oxygen supply, but she was on her feet.
No, she was actually standing on her tippy-toes, her arms drooping gracefully over the frill of her bright pink tutu skirt. And then she tried to turn in a circle but the tubing got in the way and she lost her balance and sat down with a suddenness that might have upset many children.
Penny just laughed.
‘Oops.’ Julia scooped her daughter into her arms as the laughter turned to gasping.
‘I can...’ Penny took another gulp of air. ‘I can...do it. Watch!’
‘Next time.’ Julia lifted Penny onto her bed. ‘Dr Wolfe is here to see you and he’s very busy. He’s got lots of children to look after today.’
‘But only one who can dance.’ Thomas smiled. ‘Just like a Ballerina Bear.’
Penny’s smile could light up a room. Big grey eyes turned their attention to the television on the wall, where her favourite DVD was playing and a troupe of fluffy bears wearing tutus were performing what seemed to be a cartoon version of Swan Lake.
‘I just want to listen to your heart, if that’s okay.’ Thomas unhooked his stethoscope from around his neck.
Penny nodded but didn’t turn away from the screen. She lifted her arms above her head and curled her finger as she tried to mimic the movements of the dancing bears.
Thomas noted the bluish tinge to his small patient’s lips. Putting the disc of his stethoscope against a chest scarred by more than one major surgery, he listened to a heart that was trying its best to pump enough blood around a small body but failing a little more each day.
The new medication regime was helping but it wasn’t enough. Penny had been put on the waiting list for a heart transplant weeks ago and the job of Thomas and his team was to keep her healthy for long enough that the gift of a long life might be possible. It was a balancing act of drugs to help her heart pump more effectively and control the things that made it harder, like the build-up of fluid in her tissues and lungs. Limiting physical activity was unfortunately a necessity now, as well, and to move further than this room required that Penny was confined to a wheelchair.
The odds of a heart that was a good match becoming available in time weren’t great but, as heartbreaking as that was, it wasn’t why this particular case was proving so much more difficult than other patients he had on the waiting list for transplants.
Penny was a direct link to his past.
The past he’d had to walk away from in order to survive.
* * *
He’d met Penny more than six years ago. Before she was even born, in fact—when ultrasound tests had revealed that the baby’s heart had one of the most serious congenital defects it could have, with the main pumping chamber too small to be effective. She’d had her first surgery when she was only a couple of weeks old and he’d been the doctor looking after her both before and after that surgery.
He’d spent a lot of time with Penny’s parents, Julia and Peter Craig, and he’d felt their anguish as acutely as if it had been his own.
That was what becoming a parent yourself could do to you...
Gwen had only been a couple of years older than Penny so she would have been eight now. Would she have fallen in love with the Ballerina Bears, too? Be going to ballet lessons, perhaps, and wearing a pink tutu on top of any other clothing, including her pyjamas?
The thought was no more than a faint, mental jab. Thomas had known that working with children again might stir up the contents of that locked vault in his head and his heart but he knew how to deal with it.
He knew to step away from the danger zone.
He stepped away from the bed, too. ‘It’s a lovely day, today,’ he said, looping the stethoscope around his neck again. ‘Maybe Mummy can take you outside into the sunshine for a bit.’
A nurse came into the room as he spoke and he glanced at the kidney dish in one hand and a glass of juice in the other. ‘After you’ve had all your pills.’
‘Are you in a rush?’ Julia was on her feet, as well. ‘Have you got a minute?’ She glanced at her daughter, who was still entranced by the dancing bears on the screen. ‘I’ll be back in a minute, Penny. Be a good girl and swallow all those pills for Rosie, okay?’
‘’kay.’ Penny nodded absently.
‘Of course she will,’ Rosie said. ‘And then I want to know all the names of those bears, again. Who’s the one with the sparkly blue fur?’
‘Sapphire,’ Thomas could hear Penny saying as he held the door open for Julia. If she had concerns about her daughter’s condition, they needed to go somewhere else to discuss it. ‘She’s my favourite. And the green one’s Emerald and...the red one’s Ruby...’
The relatives’ room a little further down the corridor was empty. Thomas closed the door behind them and gestured for Julia to take one of the comfortable chairs available.
‘Are you sure you’ve got time?’
‘Of course.’
‘I 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 days if he could help it.
‘I really must get on with my rounds,’ he said.
‘Of course. I’m so sorry...’ Julia had another handful of tissues pressed to her nose as he opened the door of the relatives’ room so she could step out before him.
‘It’s not a problem,’ Thomas assured her. ‘I’m always here to talk to you. And Peter, of course. Let’s set up that appointment to talk about the ventricular assist device very soon.’
Julia nodded, but her face crumpled again as her thoughts clearly returned to something a lot less happy than the thought of attending a picnic to celebrate the lives that had been so dramatically improved by the gift of organ donation. The urge to put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her and offer reassurance was so strong, he had to curl his fingers into a fist to stop his hand moving.
‘Um...’ Thomas cleared his throat. ‘Would you like me to find someone to sit with you for a bit?’
Julia shook her head. ‘I’ll be fine. You go. I’ll just get myself together a bit more before I go back to Penny. I don’t want her to see that I’ve been crying.’
* * *
Even a view of only the woman’s back was enough to advertise her distress, but it was the body language of the man standing so rigidly beside her that caught Dr Rebecca Scott’s attention instantly as she stepped out of the elevator to head towards the cardiology ward at the far end of the corridor.
A sigh escaped her lips and her steps slowed a little as she fought the impulse to spin around and push the button to open the lift doors again. To go somewhere else. It wasn’t really an option. She had a patient in the cardiology ward who was on the theatre list for tomorrow morning and she knew that the parents were in need of a lot of reassurance. This small window of time in her busy day was the only slot available so she would just have to lift her chin and deal with having her path cross with that of her ex-husband.
How sad was it that she’d known it was Thomas simply because of the sense of disconnection with the person he was talking to?
He might have returned to work at Paddington’s but the Thomas Wolfe that Rebecca had known and loved hadn’t come back.
Oh, he still looked the same. Still lean and fit and so tall that the top of her head would only reach his shoulder. He still had those eyes that had fascinated her right from the start because they could change colour depending on his mood. Blue when he was happy and grey when he was angry or worried or sad.
They had been the colour of a slate roof on a rainy day that first time they had seen each other again after so long and she hadn’t noticed any difference since. He was as aloof with her as he was with his patients and their families.
She’d known it wasn’t going to be easy. She’d known that some cases were going to be a lot harder than others but, when she’d heard that he’d agreed to come back and work at Paddington’s, Rebecca had believed that she could cope. She’d wondered if they could, in fact, put some of the past behind them and salvage some kind of friendship, even.
That hope had been extinguished the first time their paths had crossed when nothing had been said. When there had been no more warmth in his gaze than if she’d been any other colleague he’d previously worked with.
Less warmth, probably.
The old Thomas had never been like that. He’d had an easy grin that was an invitation for colleagues to stop and chat for a moment or two. He would joke and play with the children in his care and he’d always had a knack for connecting with parents—especially after he’d become a father himself. They loved him because he could make them feel as if they had the best person possible fighting in their corner. Someone who understood exactly how hard it was and would care for their child as if it were his own.
This version of Thomas might have the same—or likely an improved—ability to deliver the best medical care but he was a shell of the man he had once been.
Part of Rebecca’s heart was breaking for a man who’d taught himself to disconnect so effectively from the people around him but, right now, an even bigger part was angry. Maybe it had been building with every encounter they’d had over the last few months when they had discussed the care of their patients with a professional respect that bordered on coldness.
Calling each other ‘Thomas’ and ‘Rebecca’ with never a single slip into the ‘Tom’ and ‘Becca’ they had always been to each other. Discussing test results and medications and surgery as if nobody involved had a personal life or people that loved them enough to be terrified.
It was bad enough that he’d destroyed their marriage by withdrawing into this cold, hard shell but she could deal with that. She’d had years of practice, after all. To see the effect it was having on others made it far less acceptable. This was Penny’s mother he’d been talking to, for heaven’s sake. They’d both known Julia since she’d been pregnant with her first—and only—child. They’d both been there for her a thousand per cent over the first weeks and months of her daughter’s life. He’d been the old Thomas, then.
And then he’d walked out. He hadn’t been there for the next lot of surgery Penny had had. He hadn’t shared the joy of appointments over the next few years that had demonstrated how well the little girl had been and how happy and hopeful her family was. He hadn’t been there to witness the fear returning as her condition had deteriorated again but now he was back on centre stage and he was acting as if Penelope Craig was just another patient. As if he had no personal connection at all...
How could he be walking away from Julia like that, when she was so upset she had buried her face in a handful of tissues, ducking back into the relatives’ room for some privacy?
Rebecca’s forward movement came to a halt as Thomas came closer. She knew she was glaring at him but, for once, she wasn’t going to hide anything personal behind a calm, professional mask.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked, her tone rather more crisp than she had expected. ‘Why is Julia so upset?’
Thomas shifted his gaze, obviously checking that nobody was within earshot. A group of both staff and visitors were waiting for an elevator. Kitchen staff went past, pushing a huge stainless steel trolley. An orderly pushing a bed came towards them, heading for the service lift, presumably taking the small patient for an X-ray or scan. The bed had balloons tied to the end, one of them a bright yellow smiley face. A nurse walked beside the bed, chatting to the patient’s mother. She saw Rebecca and smiled. Then her gaze shifted to Thomas and the smile faded a little.
He didn’t seem to notice. He tilted his head towards the group of comfortable chairs near the windows that were, remarkably, free of anyone needing a break or waiting to meet someone. Far enough away from the elevator doors to allow for a private conversation.
Fair enough. It would be unprofessional to discuss details of a case where it could be overheard. Rebecca followed his lead but didn’t sit down on one of the chairs. Neither did Thomas.
‘I was going to send you a memo,’ he said. ‘I’m meeting both Julia and Peter in the next day or two to discuss the option of Penelope receiving a ventricular assist device. It’s only a matter of time before her heart failure becomes unmanageable.’
‘Okay...’ Rebecca caught her bottom lip between her teeth. No wonder Julia had been upset. A VAD was a major intervention. But she trusted Thomas’s judgement and it would definitely buy them some time.
His gaze touched hers for just a heartbeat as he finished speaking but Rebecca found herself staring at his face, waiting for him to look at her again. Surely he could understand the effect of what he’d told Julia? How could he have walked away from her like that and left her alone?
But Thomas seemed to be scanning the view of central London that these big, multi-paned old windows provided. He could probably see the busy main roads with their red, double-decker buses and crowds of people waiting at intersections or trying to hail a black cab. Or maybe his eye had been drawn to the glimpse of greenery in the near distance from the treetops of Regent’s Park.
‘You’ve had experience with VADs? Are you happy to do the surgery?’
‘Yes, of course. It’s not a procedure that happens very often but I’ve been involved with a couple. Do you want me to come to the meeting with Penny’s family and discuss it with them?’
‘Let’s wait until it’s absolutely necessary. I can tell them what’s involved and why it’s a good option.’
Rebecca let her gaze shift to the windows, as well. She stepped closer, in fact, and looked down. The protesters were still in place, with their placards, outside the gates. They’d been there for months now, ever since the threat of closure had been made public. It hadn’t just been the staff who had been so horrified that the land value of this prime central London spot was so high that the board of governors was actually considering selling up and merging Paddington Children’s Hospital with another hospital, Riverside, that was outside the city limits.
Thanks to the incredible donation a month or so ago from Sheikh Idris Al Khalil, who’d brought his daughter to Paddington’s for treatment, the threat of closure was rapidly retreating. The astonishing amount of money in appreciation of such a successful result for one child had sparked off an influx of new donations and the press were onside with every member of staff, every patient and every family who were so determined that they would stay here. Even so, the protesters were not going to let the momentum of their campaign slow down until success was confirmed. The slogans on their placards were as familiar as the street names around here now.
Save Our Hospital
Kids’ Health Not Wealth
The knowledge that that announcement couldn’t be far off gave Rebecca a jolt of pleasure. Things were looking up. For Paddington’s and maybe for Penny, too.
‘It is a good option.’ She nodded. ‘I’d love to see her out of that wheelchair for a while.’
‘It would put her at the top of the waiting list for a new heart, too. Hopefully a donor heart will become available well before we run into any complications.’
The wave of feeling positive ebbed, leaving Rebecca feeling a kind of chill run down her spine. Her muscles tensed in response. Her head told her that she should murmur agreement and then excuse herself to go and see her patient, maybe adding a polite request to be kept informed of any developments.
Her heart was sending a very different message. An almost desperate cry asking where the hell had the man gone that Thomas used to be? Was there even a fragment of him left inside that shell?
‘Yes,’ she heard herself saying, her voice weirdly low and fierce. ‘Let’s keep our fingers crossed that some kid somewhere, who’s about the same age as Penny, has a terrible accident and their parents actually agree to have him—or her—used for spare parts.’
She could feel the shock wave coming from Thomas. She was shocked herself.
It was a pretty unprofessional thing for a transplant surgeon to say but this had come from a very personal place. A place that only a parent who had had to make that heartbreaking decision themselves could understand.
She was also breaking the unspoken rule that nothing personal existed between herself and Thomas any more. And she wasn’t doing it by a casually friendly comment like ‘How are you?’ or ‘Did you have a good weekend?’ No. She was lobbing a verbal grenade into the bunker that contained their most private and painful history.
In public. During working hours.
What was she thinking? Being angry at the distance Thomas was keeping himself from his patients and their parents was no excuse. Especially when she knew perfectly well why he had become like that. Or was that the real issue here? That she had known and tried so hard to help and had failed so completely?
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘But, for me, it’s never an anonymous donor organ that becomes available. I have to go and collect them so I get involved in both sides of the story.’
Thomas’s voice was like ice. He really didn’t want to be talking about this.
‘You choose to do it,’ he said.
He didn’t even look at her as he fired the accusation. He was staring out of the damned window again. Rebecca found that her anger hadn’t been erased by feeling ashamed of her outburst.
‘And you choose to shut your eyes.’ The words came out in a whisper that was almost a hiss. ‘To run away. Like you always did.’
There was no point in saying anything else. Maybe there was nothing more to say, anyway.
So Rebecca turned and walked away.
