Читать книгу The Unsung Hero - Алисон Робертс - Страница 7

‘What?’

He was looking at her as if she was some kind of alien species, clearly unable to make any sense of her request. Sarah glanced at Max but he was watching his friend and had an expression of sympathy that made her heart sink. He knew how hard it would be for Rick to accept the idea he could be Josh’s father. And maybe he wasn’t. Maybe she was making life difficult for all sorts of people unnecessarily but she had no choice, did she?

This was about Josh.

Mike Randall was frowning. ‘I’m confused,’ he confessed. ‘What’s Rick got to do with this, Sarah?’

‘Absolutely nothing.’ Rick held up his hands in an eloquent gesture of denial. ‘Look, I’m sorry, Sarah. I’ve got no idea where this is coming from but you couldn’t be more wrong.’

Sarah swallowed hard. She directed her next words at Mike rather than Rick. ‘I was chasing someone I thought was called Richard. Known as Rick. I couldn’t find any Richard. Then someone suggested that Rick could be short for Eric and…bingo.’

She heard an angry huff of sound from Rick. He turned, walked a couple of jerky steps, shoving his sleeves clear of his wrists as though preparing to do battle. Then he swung back to face them all, shaking his head incredulously.

‘I mean, I know I haven’t exactly been a monk but…for God’s sake, I wasn’t even in the country at the time Josh would have been conceived…what, eight or nine years ago? I was in Sydney on a postgraduate surgical course for two years. Wasn’t I, Max?’

‘Ah…Yes, but—’

‘There isn’t a “but”.’ Rick was staring at Max with lines of bewilderment creasing his face now. He was being attacked here. Where was the back-up he clearly expected? Max looked as though he was in physical pain. He wanted, more than anything, to be able to provide the support his friend desperately wanted but he couldn’t do it because he knew something Rick didn’t.

Sarah waited, knowing that Rick would turn back to her eventually. She was the one initiating this attack, wasn’t she? So she watched him, seeing the way he straightened his spine and the way his hands curled into fists of frustration. It was the bewilderment that really got to her, though. A window of vulnerability in a man who might otherwise seem invincible. Big. Strong. Clever. Impossibly gorgeous right now with the sleeves of that dinner jacket shoved onto his forearms and the top button of his shirt undone with the ends of that black tie hanging on each side.

Sure enough, he turned to make eye contact with her and it was like a physical blow. As though she had betrayed him.

She had to swallow hard. ‘How old do you think Josh is, Rick?’

‘Seven,’ he said promptly, dredging up another fragment of a conversation in past weeks. ‘Or maybe eight.’ He flicked a challenging glance at Max.

‘That’s what I thought,’ Max said apologetically. ‘But it was a guess, Rick. I—’

‘I know he’s small for his age,’ Sarah interrupted, trying to let Max off the hook. ‘But he’s nine. Coming up to nine and a half. He was conceived in Auckland a bit over ten years ago.’

Rick was still glaring at Max. ‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’

‘Only since last night.’ Max sighed heavily. ‘It’s not as if I’ve had a chance to talk to you. Sarah promised not to say anything until after the wedding. I was going to warn you, mate.’

Sarah caught Mike’s glance. Friction on a personal level between these two men wasn’t going to be helpful. He raised his eyebrows and Sarah nodded.

‘I went to the States,’ she said, ‘to find the man who was on Josh’s birth certificate. The man my sister genuinely thought was Josh’s father as far as I could tell. He thought he might be, too and actually got excited by the idea. He couldn’t wait to do the DNA test and he was gutted when it turned out that Josh couldn’t possibly be his son.’

Rick snorted. ‘You’ll get the same result from me,’ he said coldly. ‘Except I won’t be pretending I’m gutted.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re wasting your time.

And mine.’

Sarah was finding it hard to stay calm. He was simply going to refuse to accept the possibility, wasn’t he? This might turn into a dead end that could haunt her for ever.

‘My sister’s name was Lucy,’ she said with a tiny wobble in her voice. ‘She was two years older than me and we looked very alike.’

He couldn’t deny he found her attractive, surely? His interest had been flashing like a neon sign from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. The kind of physical attributes people found attractive in the opposite sex didn’t change that much. She had always been drawn to tall, dark men. Like Rick.

She sighed again, inwardly this time, at the regret that tugged deep inside. In another lifetime she might have been having a very different kind of conversation with Rick Wilson.

‘Lucy Prescott?’ she prompted. ‘Ring any bells?’

‘No.’ The word was a growl.

‘The man who wasn’t Josh’s father remembered her. It had only been a brief affair but he’d been in love with her. He’d said he’d known he was failing to measure up to the previous man in her life. Only a one-night stand, Lucy had said, and it was never going to go anywhere, but it was all too obvious that she would have preferred it to.’

And Sarah could understand why now. She could also begin to understand why her sister had always kept it a secret. A private fantasy that might have been discredited by sharing it with anyone, even her sister. Rick was one of a kind and he would have been completely out of her league back then when Lucy had been just a shy, country girl starting out on her nursing training.

‘He went to the States a month or so later,’ she finished. ‘He never knew Lucy was pregnant. She refused to tell him. Or say who the father was. I only found that out when I requested Josh’s birth certificate after he got sick.’

Silence fell as she finished speaking. Through the crack in the nearby door came a soft whimper.

Sarah tensed and then breathed out with a sigh of resignation. She had to go back to Josh, to be there when he woke up, but it wasn’t as if there wasn’t any point in saying anything more right now. She had dropped the bombshell. The best thing she could do was give Rick the space to get his head around it.

It was hard not to add a plea of some kind before she turned away. Especially seeing as Rick was giving her his undivided attention. Or maybe he was hoping he could make her go ‘poof’ and disappear from his life by sheer willpower. She held his gaze for a long second.

Please, she begged silently. Just…please.

Mike followed Sarah back into the room to check on his young patient and Rick was left in the corridor with just Max for company.

He turned on his heel and began to walk away.

‘Hey…’ Max sounded alarmed. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To find someone to talk to,’ Rick snapped. ‘A mate who might genuinely be in my corner.’

‘I’m in your corner.’ Max caught up with him well before he reached the elevators.

That hadn’t been the impression he’d just got. Rick didn’t pause to push the button or wait for a lift. He didn’t want to give Max the chance to say anything else. Shoving the fire-escape door open, he took to the stairs, ignoring the sound of the footsteps following him. He didn’t even look over his shoulder as he barged into the emergency department.

Jet was listening to a patient’s chest in a cubicle near the internal doors. He glanced up, took in the expression on Rick’s face and smoothly unhooked the earpieces to hang the stethoscope around his neck.

‘You’re quite right,’ he said to the registrar beside him. ‘Order a chest X-ray and start some diuretics. I’ll be in the office for a few minutes. Page me if I’m needed.’ With a commanding jerk of his head, he led both Rick and Max into one of the consultants’ offices.

‘What the hell’s the matter with you two?’

‘Why don’t you ask him?’ Rick growled. He glared at Max.

Jet hooked one leg up to perch on the edge of the desk. He studied Rick for a moment and then turned his attention to Max. And then, surprisingly, he grinned.

‘Takes me right back, this does. Remember when the headmaster caught you two fighting on the dorm floor? You got detention for a month and had to pick up rubbish on the rugby grounds. Matt and I used to fall over ourselves laughing, watching you with your spiky sticks and bags.’

His smile faded, his gaze settling on Max. ‘What? What did I say?’

Max sighed. ‘This has kind of got something to do with Matt, that’s all.’

‘For God’s sake,’ Rick exploded. ‘How can you say that? It’s got nothing to do with Matt.’

‘Of course it has. And if you calmed down and tried using your brain for half a minute, you’d see why. Think about it.’

‘What does he need to think about?’ Jet’s tone was wary.

‘Matt,’ Max said heavily. ‘What life was like for us all when he died.’

Rick looked up at the ceiling. He didn’t realise how hard his fists were clenched until the ache reached his elbows.

Unbearable, that’s what it had been like. Matt had been the final member of their group. The youngest by a few months and a bit smaller but he’d made up for his lack of height with an extra dose of daring and humour and intelligence. Life had been the ultimate adventure for Matt but he had died, tragically, when a brain aneurysm had not been diagnosed in time to save him, despite the warning symptoms. They had all been newly qualified doctors at the time. The remaining three, aching with such a loss, had all blamed themselves in some way for his death.

‘You hit the books, I seem to remember,’ Jet said slowly. ‘We hardly saw you.’

‘And you burned off your grief getting your black belt in that martial arts thing.’ Max nodded. ‘And Rick? Do you remember what he did?’

‘Drank a lot,’ Jet said promptly. ‘And partied like there was no tomorrow.’

‘Exactly.’

The satisfied note in Max’s voice was more than irritating.

‘There’s no “exactly” about it,’ Rick informed them. ‘I’m careful. Even if I’m drunk I’m careful.’

‘Can you honestly put your hand on your heart and swear there might not have been an occasion then when you found you didn’t have anything on hand or were just too blasé to care?’

Rick said nothing. The truth was that that period of time was pretty much a blur now. He’d been trying to forget and it had been a successful mission. He closed his eyes slowly.

Too many parties. Too much alcohol. Way too many girls and most of them had been blue-eyed blondes. Max had married a woman with chestnut hair. Jet thought the darker the better but Rick had always gone for blondes. That particular period wasn’t an indication of how he usually treated women, however, and even now he could feel shame at the way he’d used those girls.

One-night stands had been all that he could do. He’d had enough emotional rubbish to deal with without inviting any more into his life. All he’d wanted had been the temporary release that sex could provide and if it wasn’t enough for the partner, she’d got brushed aside. Names? As much of a blur as the faces. Pick a girl’s name, he thought wearily. Any name could be a contender. Annabelle or Casey or Lisa or…or Lucy. Yes. If Sarah’s sister had been at one of those parties and had been willing, he would have taken advantage of her.

Of course he couldn’t swear to anything and his friends knew it. Maybe talking about this wasn’t such a good idea. It certainly wasn’t helping. Any second now and Jet was going to be taking the side Max was on. The dark side. Rick needed to be alone. A stiff drink or two and some peace and quiet and maybe he could parcel up this feeling of dread and make it go away somehow.

‘Condoms aren’t a magic bullet, anyway,’ Max continued. ‘You know that. They can fail. Or break. How many times have we congratulated ourselves on our hassle-free record? Or so we thought.’

Jet whistled silently. ‘Oh, man…Is this going where I think it’s going?’

Max didn’t seem to have heard him. He was still talking directly to Rick. ‘Lucy looked just like her sister. Maybe your memory of ten-plus years ago is understandably hazy but what about a few hours ago? Your tongue was practically hanging out of your mouth the instant you clapped eyes on Sarah.’

‘Sarah?’ Jet was sitting very still now. Making sense of what was happening around him.

‘Lucy was Sarah’s sister,’ Max said more quietly. ‘Josh’s mother.’

‘Holy cow! And she thinks Rick’s the father?’

‘He could be,’ Max agreed.

‘She’s wrong,’ Rick said at the same time.

‘How do you know?’ Jet asked Rick.

‘I just do.’ Rick knew his tone was desperate. He didn’t know, did he? He just couldn’t begin to imagine the repercussions if she was right. To be presented with a nine-year-old kid? A sick kid? To know that the boy had been in the world for so long and he hadn’t even known he’d existed? No. There was no way to get his head around this.

Max and Jet exchanged a glance.

‘The solution’s simple,’ Jet said. ‘Three letters, mate. DNA.’

Max stepped towards Rick and gripped his upper arm. ‘He’s right. The possibility is there and a kid’s life might depend on it. If nothing else, you can set the record straight and Sarah can keep hunting.’

Yes. There was definitely a possibility there. One that might let him off the hook completely.

‘Fine. I’ll do the damn test.’

The thought that it might exonerate him kept him going until he reached home. The long hours of a solitary, sleepless night, however, put a far more negative spin on the plan.

Maybe fate had it in for him. Perhaps this was his punishment for that wild, irresponsible few months until he’d got both his head and his act back together. And what a punishment it would be. The effect it could have on his life was potentially catastrophic. Having a child could have a major impact on career choices, finances, relationships…

Being a father.

Oh, man…that was a minefield and a half. He couldn’t do it. He had no idea of how a father should behave. He only had to think of his own father to know how they shouldn’t behave but that was no help. His mates wouldn’t be able to help either, would they? They’d all had way less than perfect family lives, which was why they’d all been sent off to boarding school and ended up forging their bond. The kind of family that meant something.

Max would think he’d know but he was getting in on the ground floor with Mattie, wasn’t he? He hadn’t been presented with a child who was old enough to judge performance and find it lacking. Old enough to get hurt, dammit.

It would be a disaster for everybody involved but most especially Josh, who most certainly didn’t need that in his life on top of everything else. He couldn’t do it to him. But if he did turn out to be Josh’s father, he’d have no choice.

The endless merry-go-round of thoughts and emotions finally slowed as dawn broke and in those quiet minutes as a new day was born, Rick found a solution.

If his irresponsibility had created a child and fate had decreed that he could help him in some way, then of course he would do it. Josh didn’t have to know where the bone marrow was coming from. If he didn’t know that his biological father was involved, Rick wouldn’t have to try and be the person Josh would want his father to be. He wouldn’t have to hurt the kid by trying…and failing. It would be kinder all round, really.

Much kinder.

The attraction had been snuffed out. As cleanly as a lamp being switched off. There wasn’t even a flicker of it to be seen when Rick came to the ward the following morning.

He didn’t come into Josh’s room. Just gave Sarah a curt nod through the window and then waited for her to join him in the relative privacy of the corridor.

‘I’ve sorted the tests,’ he told her. ‘DNA, blood and tissue typing. You’ll have to wait for the results.’

‘Thank you.’

It was such an inadequate thing to say. She could see how huge this had been for him. Rick looked as though he hadn’t slept a wink. There were shadows under his eyes and more lines around them than she remembered. It really wasn’t fair that it only added to his appeal or that his appeal for her was still there when it had totally gone from his side of the equation.

She’d done her own share of thinking last night. Imagining Lucy with Rick. Feeling disturbingly…envious.

Just as well that Rick had shut off that static of sexual awareness. They could be colleagues now. A step up from total strangers but new enough to still have to earn trust. And that wasn’t going to be easy because Rick’s demeanour suggested she’d already had his trust and couldn’t have broken it more effectively.

Fair enough. She had tipped his life upside down. Taken away his carefree existence. Put a huge spoke in the entire wheel of his universe, probably.

‘Don’t go getting your hopes up too much,’ Rick warned.

‘I won’t.

But…’

‘But what?’

Amazing that his eyes could darken even further. They were like coals now. Remnants of a fire that had long since died out. Sarah had to look away.

‘Have…have you given any thought to the next step, if…if…?’

Oh, Lord. She couldn’t even say it out loud.

‘If I do turn out to be his father?’ Rick’s mouth curled but it couldn’t be considered any kind of smile. ‘Give me some credit, Sarah,’ he drawled. ‘I’m not stupid.’

‘I wasn’t suggesting you were.’ The putdown sparked something that felt like rebellion. Didn’t he know by now that she was more than prepared to fight for what was right?

‘If I’m his father and there’s enough of a match to make my bone marrow compatible, then of course I’ll be a donor.’

Sarah let out a breath she hadn’t noticed she’d been holding. This was precisely what she’d wanted to hear. So why was she left with this oddly unsatisfied sensation?

‘If—and it’s a mighty big if as far as I’m concerned,’ Rick continued, his voice low and intense. ‘If things do turn out that way and I’m a donor, then that’s the end of it.’

‘Sorry?’ Sarah wasn’t following.

‘I had no idea he existed,’ Rick said. ‘He’s nine years old. It’s a bit late to step into the role of being a father. So I don’t want Josh to be told. Is that clear?’

Sarah’s mouth opened but no words came out.

It was clear all right. But acceptable? That was something else entirely. If she called him on this, however, he might back off and he’d already agreed to being a potential donor. That was all that mattered right now, wasn’t it?

One step at a time.

It wasn’t the first time in their brief acquaintance that she’d had the impression Rick Wilson was a man used to getting what he wanted from life.

He had taken her silence for acquiescence.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘I’m glad we understand each other.’

And with that, he turned and left. Mission accomplished.

That spark of rebellion flared. Any kind of fan could easily see it flame into anger but Sarah had her own mission to deal with.

Intravenous sedation had made Josh sleepy enough not to notice his bed being wheeled into the treatment room of the ward. Or even being rolled onto his stomach and having the skin around his lower spine swabbed with disinfectant and then covered with a sterile drape that had a square hole in its centre.

Sarah positioned herself close to his head and took a small hand in hers.

‘All set?’ Mike was gowned and gloved. He had a syringe full of local anaesthetic in his hand.

Sarah nodded. She focused on Josh’s face rather than watching the needle. She saw the crease on his forehead that let her know he was aware of his skin being pierced. The deeper frown and tiny whimper that told her the bone was now being frozen.

Despite the sedation and all the local anaesthetic, the next part of the procedure was painful. Not that Josh would remember any of it, thanks to the medication, but Sarah would. The sleepy groans and embryonic sobs brought tears to her own eyes and she ended up having to sniff audibly.

‘You OK, Sarah?’

‘Yes.’

‘Not much longer.’

‘That’s good.’

It was probably just as well that Rick had backed away from any involvement with Josh at the moment. If he was watching this, he’d know exactly what was in store for him if it came to donating bone marrow. There’d be more than one puncture site, too, because they’d need a couple of litres of his liquid marrow. Josh only needed a tiny amount to cover the slides a technician was ready to prepare at the nearby trolley.

Would Rick opt for a general anaesthetic? Hardly likely, given the small but significant risk. IV sedation like Josh had had? That also didn’t seem likely. He was a surgeon and having to abstain from making any important decisions or doing medical procedures might be a huge inconvenience. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if he opted to just tough it out with local and that thought was enough to make her shudder inwardly.

She couldn’t do it. Of course, it would be his choice but it was a lot to ask of anyone. Except that if it came to that, Rick wouldn’t be just anyone. He’d be Josh’s father. His dad. And it was a small thing to ask if it could save his son’s life.

Mike had finished aspirating the marrow. Now he needed to do the biopsy.

‘Almost done, short stuff,’ Sarah whispered. ‘You’re being a wee hero.’

As he always was. He was such a brave kid. As if it hadn’t been enough to lose his mum when he was only six and have to go and live with an aunt he hadn’t seen nearly enough of. She wished she’d been there more for him when he’d been little but Lucy had gone back to their small home town after their mother had died and it had been her older sister who’d pushed her to stay in big cities and keep taking her career to the next level. Not to make the same mistakes she’d made.

At least she hadn’t been a total stranger when tragedy had struck. Her love for Josh had been genuine but, even if she hadn’t loved him as her nephew, he would have captured her heart totally over the last year with his courage and resilience.

‘I’ll get better,’ he often reassured her. ‘Don’t worry, Sarah. One day I’ll be big and I’ll look after you.’

Sarah had to sniff again. A nurse passed her a tissue and Mike looked up to give her a sympathetic smile.

‘We’re all done. Looks like a good sample. Not too much cortex.’

‘Great.’

‘We’ll head on up for the MRI before the sedation wears off. I’ll give him some pain relief, too. He’ll be a bit sore when he wakes up.’

‘He’ll be OK,’ Sarah said. ‘I don’t think he’s ever really complained after one of these.’

Rick would be in even more pain after this procedure but he’d get over it soon enough and as far as he was concerned, that would be the end of his involvement. And…dammit, that really wasn’t acceptable, Sarah realised.

‘He’s an amazing kid,’ Mike was saying warmly as he pressed a gauze swab to the puncture site. ‘One out of the box.’

So true. And if Rick was Josh’s father, he needed to spend enough time with him to see what an incredible person his son was. Everyone who knew this child fell in love with him. Josh deserved to know that his own father was amongst that number.

If Rick thought he could make up for refusing to acknowledge his son merely by going through a medical procedure then he had another think coming his way, courtesy of her. This was what had been niggling at her ever since he’d walked off earlier. Where her anger was stemming from. He was dismissing Josh as a person without seeing how special he was. He should be proud to claim him.

And surely Josh had a right to know who his father was? But how could Sarah tell him if there was rejection in store?

One step at a time, she reminded herself, walking beside Josh’s bed on their journey to the radiology department for the MRI scan. She squeezed his hand, reassuring herself as much as the drowsy child. The next step couldn’t happen until the test results came through and that gave her plenty of time to think about exactly what that step should involve.

The thirteen-year-old boy lay, white and still on a bed in the intensive care unit. Flanked by monitors, IV tubing, medical staff and two distraught-looking parents.

The mother was crying again. The father put his arm around her. ‘He’s still alive,’ he said, his voice raw. ‘It’ll be OK, you’ll see. The doc knows what he’s doing. It’ll be OK.’

He looked down at his son but the glance was brief. The sight was still too horrific. The swathe of bandages around the head. Eyes so swollen you couldn’t see eyelashes even, and then there was the awful bruising and a split lip to cap it off. He must be virtually unrecognisable even to his closest family.

This was the kind of case Rick found particularly gruelling. A whole family torn apart because of a dreadful accident. Simon had been on his way home from school and had been knocked off his bicycle by a speeding delivery van. He had a badly fractured leg, supported by a slab of plaster and padded by pillows until the boy’s condition was stable enough for further surgery. It was much less of a concern than his head injury at this point in time. Right now, Simon was on a ventilator, unable to breathe on his own, and the surgery Rick had just performed held no guarantees for either survival or a good long-term outcome.

Simon’s parents were a mess. Shocked and terrified but desperate to be with their son. This had to be every parent’s worst nightmare and Rick had seen it all too often.

Was this why he’d never given serious thought to having a family of his own? He wasn’t totally averse to the notion like Jet was, but neither could he imagine embracing the concept as Max had done. He was somewhere between the two. The desire was there but still dormant. Weighed down, perhaps, by the legacy of his own childhood.

Along with the logistics of attaining the state of parenthood, the motivation to deal with the downsides of parenting had made it all too easy to shove the whole concept into the ‘too hard’ basket and leave it there. And if it stayed in there so long it was too late to do anything about it, the whole issue might just quietly go away and he’d be able to take comfort in the thought that he couldn’t have really wanted it badly enough in any case.

It was getting late by the time Rick left the ICU, but for a while he hung around the wards, reviewing his inpatients. He was reluctant to head home because it would mean a visit to his office to collect his keys.

Had it only been a few days ago when he’d been less than happy with the company of his mates and had wanted time alone to get his head sorted? Now, when he’d had enough of himself, there was no opportunity to obtain the kind of company he needed.

He’d assured Max that he would be absolutely fine. That Max couldn’t possibly postpone the week in Rarotonga that he and Ellie and Mattie had lined up for their honeymoon. He’d meant every word of it at the time, of course, but then he hadn’t known that Jet would receive a summons back to his elite army medical unit. A three-month stint that would see him involved in training exercises and deployment to any areas that might need the specialised skills of the unit. He’d left town yesterday, with his personal belongings in a backpack, his bike under cover in Rick’s garage and the satisfied gleam of impending adventure lighting his features.

Rick had no one to talk to.

About the rough day he’d had at work.

Or about the envelope that had landed in his in-box this afternoon, seconds before the call to the emergency department where Simon had been waiting.

He knew what was in that envelope.

The DNA results.

The slip of paper inside could be a passport to freedom but it could also be a life sentence.

Being a father might not be a choice he had the luxury of making. It might be about to blindside him and, despite thinking he had found a solution that would work for everybody involved, he still had no idea how he was going to react if he discovered he really was Josh’s father.