Midwives On Call: From Babies To Bride. Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ you get them back?’

      ‘Transported the first one with a viable rhythm but I think the downtime had been too long. The second guy woke up after the third shock and wanted to know what all the fuss was about.’

      ‘No, really?’

      ‘Yeah …’ Aiden refilled their glasses and then raised his in a toast. ‘Doesn’t happen very often but when it does, it makes it all worthwhile. Even missing lunch.’ He picked up his fork again. ‘Did I tell you how amazing this is? I can’t even mash potatoes without leaving lumps in.’

      Sophia smiled. ‘Tell me about the save. How old was he? Was there bystander CPR happening when you got there?’

      Aiden told her about the successful case in so much detail she felt like she’d been standing there, watching the drama.

      ‘You’re really good at that.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Telling a story. You could write a book about your job and people would want to read it.’

      Aiden shook his head. ‘I’ve just had practice, that’s all. Nathan is a frustrated paramedic, I think. He always wants every gory detail about everything and doesn’t let me get away with leaving stuff out. It’s become a habit.’

      Sophia forgot about any boundaries she might have been watching so that they could keep this time light. And fun. There was such a strong undercurrent to Aiden’s words. It had the strength of showing the bond between the brothers in that Aiden was so used to sharing every detail of his life with Nathan, but it had rocks and rapids in it, too. Did Nathan resent that Aiden was out in the world, doing such an exciting and physical job, while he was trapped in a wheelchair? Did Aiden feel guilty about it?

      ‘How did it happen?’ she heard herself asking quietly. ‘How did Nate become a quadriplegic?’

      Aiden stopped chewing his mouthful of food and swallowed. Carefully. He reached for his glass of wine but didn’t look at Sophia.

      ‘He got pushed down a set of stairs.’ His voice was flat.

      ‘Oh, my God …’ If she’d still had any appetite, it evaporated at that moment. ‘How old was he?’

      ‘Ten.’

      A ten-year-old boy who’d probably loved to ride his bike and play soccer or rugby. A boy who’d already had it tough by having to grow up without his mother.

      An echo of those sombre words Aiden had spoken the other night slipped into her head.

       I had to be a father to Nate when he was growing up and that was enough. More than enough.

      Had he been referring to the growing up before that dreadful accident or the trauma of readjustment that would have come afterwards?

      She had so many questions she wanted to ask but didn’t dare push further into such personal territory. The silence grew. Aiden was staring at his wineglass.

      ‘Must have been drinking on such an empty stomach that did it,’ he mused. ‘I never talk about this.’

      Then he looked up and caught Sophia’s gaze. ‘Or maybe it’s because I’m with you.’

      Something inside her melted into a liquid warmth. Some of it reached her eyes and she knew she’d have to blink a lot to make sure it didn’t escape and roll down her cheeks. Her voice came out as a whisper.

      ‘You can tell me anything. Or not. You’re safe, either way.’ She tried to smile but it didn’t quite work.

      Aiden wasn’t smiling either. He felt like he was drowning in that moisture he could see collecting in Sophia’s eyes. The caring behind them hit him like an emotional brick and tugged at something long forgotten. Poignant.

      Did it remind him of the way his mother had looked at him, maybe?

      ‘It was my father who pushed him down the stairs,’ he found himself telling her. ‘And it was my fault.’

      The shock on her face was all too easy to read and Aiden cringed inwardly. He shouldn’t have told her. She would think less of him. As little as he thought of himself?

      But then her face changed. She looked like she was backing away even though she didn’t move a single muscle.

      ‘I don’t believe that,’ she said. ‘Not one bit.’

      How could she say that with such conviction? She barely knew him and she knew nothing of what had happened. A flash of anger made it easy to unchain words.

      ‘My father was an alcoholic. He resented having to raise kids on his own and he blamed Nathan for causing Mum’s death. He was a bully and he got really nasty when he was drinking, which was pretty much every day.’

      The horror of that childhood was written all over Sophia’s face. He could see it that way himself now, with the benefit of hindsight but, at the time, it had just been how things were.

      ‘I knew how to handle him. I learned how to keep Nate safe. But that day? I was sixteen and I’d had enough. Instead of trying to defuse him, I flipped the coin. I started yelling at him and telling him just what a miserable bastard he was. I knew I had to get out of the house before I attacked him physically and I’d almost made it to the front door.’ He had to stop for a second. To swallow past the constriction in his throat. ‘He came after me but Nate was trying to follow me, too, and he was at the top of the stairs. Dad pushed him to get past and he fell.’

      ‘You saw it happen?’ Sophia’s words were raw. Had she even thought before she reached out and covered his hand with her own? The warmth and pressure of that human contact almost undid Aiden but he couldn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he turned it over and threaded his fingers through hers to lock them together.

      ‘That wasn’t the worst of it. I didn’t know how badly hurt Nate was but I knew not to let him move before the ambulance could get there. So I held his head and kept him still and told him that everything would be okay. And then … and then …’

      He could feel the tension in her hand. The terrible anticipation.

      ‘And then we heard it. I didn’t even know he had a gun in the house. Just as well, maybe, given how much I hated him that day. But I never had to think about killing him again. He did it himself.’

      He choked on those last words. He’d never told anybody this story. Ever. Something was breaking inside his chest. Making him shake. Forcing a kind of horrible, dry sobbing sound to come out of his throat. He had his eyes screwed tightly shut so he didn’t see Sophia standing up but he felt the tug on his hand and it was easy to comply with the silent instruction because he had no idea of what to do. How to deal with this awful emotional tidal wave.

      How did Sophia know what to do?

      She was tiny but he could feel an enormous strength in the way she wrapped her arms around him and held him so tightly. He had no idea how long they stood there like that but it was long enough for the wave to recede. And now it felt like a huge expanse of sand that had been washed clean.

      Deserted. СКАЧАТЬ