Saving Baby Amy. Annie Claydon
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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