Ken McClure - Donor

The windows of the doll’s house lit up and Amanda grinned. She looked up at her mother and father and then back at the doll’s house, as if a little embarrassed at being so outwardly pleased.

Sandy and Kate exchanged glances and smiled.

‘Would you like Daddy to build you one of these for when you come home?’ asked Sandy, although there was little doubt about the answer. Amanda nodded and cuddled down into her pillow. Sandy knelt down beside her. ‘It’s a deal then,’ he said. ‘You be a good girl and do what the doctors and nurses tell you and I’ll build you the best doll’s house you ever saw.’

‘Will it have lights?’ asked Amanda.

‘In every room,’ said Sandy and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Amanda put her thumb in her mouth.

‘She’s tired,’ said Kate, taking Sandy’s place beside her and stroking her hair back from her forehead. ‘Mummy and Daddy are going to go now, but we’ll see you tomorrow. Be good.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said the nurse, seeing the vulnerable look that appeared in Kate’s eyes as she got up, ‘we’ll look after her.’

Outside the door Sandy put his arm round Kate’s shoulders. ‘Hey, come on,’ he said. ‘This is the start of better things, remember?’

Kate squeezed his hand. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It’s just that sometimes she looks so small. She’s really just a baby and she’s had such a lot to put up with.’

‘She’ll come through,’ said Sandy. ‘You’ll see.’

‘God, I hope so,’ said Kate dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue she’d extracted from her handbag. She sniffed deeply, then straightened her shoulders and said, ‘Come on, let’s go.’

Outside in the car park Sandy stopped abruptly as they neared Esmeralda.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Kate.

‘Do you get the impression that we may be ever so slightly… out of place?’

Kate looked puzzled; then she saw what he meant. Esmeralda was flanked by a Mercedes saloon on one side and a BMW coupe on the other. ‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘I fear you may be right.’ A quick glance around showed few of the cars were over two years old and most were top marques.

Sandy held the door open for her and put on his butler’s voice. ‘If Modom would care to enter?’

‘Idiot,’ smiled Kate and got in.

Sandy turned the ignition key, but nothing happened save for a clicking sound. ‘Shit,’ he said.

‘You’re kidding,’ said Kate.

‘’Fraid not,’ said Sandy with a grimace. ‘Esy’s doing the dirty on us.’

‘She knows how to pick her moments,’ said Kate glancing over her shoulder. ‘Any idea what the problem is?’

‘The solenoid’s engaging but the starter motor isn’t turning. Maybe it’s jammed.’

‘Can you fix it?’

‘Can a bird fly?’ Sandy opened his door and got out. Kate waited patiently while he disappeared under the open bonnet. Various swear words told her that work was in progress. The car rocked a little.

‘Give it a try, Kate.’

She moved into the driving seat and turned the key. There was a solitary click, followed by a curse from under the bonnet.

‘No luck?’ asked Kate with slight trepidation.

‘The battery’s flat. We’ll have to bump-start her.’

Kate let off the handbrake and took hold of the steering wheel, while Sandy pushed the car backwards out of its slot. ‘Ready?’ he asked, going round to the back of the car to begin pushing.

‘Ready.’

The car park was flat, so there was no convenient gradient to make use of. Sandy found it hard work getting some momentum into Esmeralda. ‘Right!’ he said lifting his hands off the boot and straightening up. Kate let up the clutch and the car jerked to a halt, showing no interest in starting.

‘Right, we’ll try again,’ said Sandy.

‘Can I help?’ said a male voice at Sandy’s shoulder.

Sandy turned to find a tall, dark-haired man standing there.

‘She seems a bit reluctant,’ the stranger went on.

‘I don’t understand it,’ said Sandy. ‘She can’t be that cold. She’s only been parked for half an hour and the battery goes flat.’

The two men gave Esmeralda a good shove and built up more momentum than the time before. ‘Right!’ yelled Sandy.

Once again Esmeralda jerked, then lurched to a halt in mechanical silence.

‘Third time lucky,’ said the stranger, resting his hands on the boot again.

Sandy nodded, then suddenly looked up as if he’d had an idea and said, ‘Kate?’

‘Yes?’ came the reply.

‘You have got the ignition on, haven’t you?’

There was a long pause before a small voice said, ‘Sorry.’

Sandy and the stranger smiled at each other and gave Esmeralda another shove. This time her engine came to life when Kate let up the clutch, and Kate drove her round the square while Sandy thanked the stranger for his help.

‘Not at all. Been visiting one of the patients?’

‘Our daughter’s just been admitted to the transplant unit.’

‘That’ll be Dr Ross’s unit.’

‘Then you work here?’ said Sandy. ‘A doctor?’

‘Sort of.’ The man held out his hand and said, ‘Steven Dunbar.’

‘Sandy Chapman. That’s my wife, Kate, just starting lap two in the green Williams Renault, known to us as Esmeralda.’

Dunbar at once recognized the name ‘Chapman’ from his conversation with Clive Turner, and smiled.

Esmeralda came slowly past with Kate looking anxiously out of the window. ‘When can I stop?’ she asked.

Both men laughed at the look of mock anguish on her face.

‘Any time,’ replied Sandy. ‘Just don’t stall the engine.’

She brought Esmeralda to a halt and listened to the idle speed for a moment. Satisfied that it was steady enough, she got out and joined Sandy.

‘Kate, this is Dr Dunbar.’

‘Hello,’ said Dunbar. ‘I’m not really a doctor here — more of a civil servant. I look after the government’s financial involvement in the hospital.’

‘Sounds interesting,’ said Kate politely.

‘Then you wouldn’t have been too keen on taking our Amanda on for free?’ suggested Sandy.

‘On the contrary, I’m delighted we have,’ said Dunbar.

‘Thanks for the push,’ said Sandy.

‘Don’t mention it,’ said Dunbar.

He watched as Kate and Sandy got into Esmeralda and drove off, waving to them as they disappeared out of the gate. He was glad he had okayed their daughter’s admission. He must have misjudged Medic Ecosse’s referral policy when he suspected that they were taking only straightforward ‘show-business’ cases to use for self-promotion.

There was one strange thing though. He’d just come from the press reception for the jaw-operation patient, and at it there had been no mention of the hospital taking on a free NHS transplant case. Why not? Why miss the opportunity to gain some good publicity?

The reception hadn’t been as bad as he’d feared. The patient was an ordinary girl from the local area, who hadn’t suspected for a moment that she was being exploited. She seemed to enjoy being the centre of attention, turning this way and that at the request of the photographers, posing with the staff and with the local councillor for the area, who had seized on the occasion to make political capital. Dunbar remembered him. He was the Labour councillor who had taken every opportunity to express his opposition to private medicine at the meeting between the Scottish Office and the hospital. Now here he was, smiling into the cameras with his arm round the star patient, doing his best to create the impression that he had been the prime mover in the whole affair.

None of this made Dunbar angry because, as Ingrid had said, the bottom line was sound enough and the bottom line was that the girl had been given a new and better life because of the operation. The hospital was going to get some positive publicity that would do no one any harm and if a local politician grabbed the chance to promote his own interests, what the hell? That’s what politicians did. That was the way the world worked. Nature abhorred a missed opportunity in the world of self-interest.