Lucy Gordon - The Diamond Dad

'James Wakeham.'

'Can you call him right now?'

Miss McGeorge sighed. 'Very well, I'll try.'

'Tell him he can have anything.'

James Wakeham was attending a conference in Belgium and it took a few nail-biting minutes to locate him. Cindy stayed by Barker, stroking his inert head and whispering words of love into his floppy ears.

At last Wakeham was located. Miss McGeorge explained the situation and then went into a detailed clinical description of Barker's state.

'Yes, I see,' she said at last. 'No, of course not- Well, that's what I said- I'll explain-I'm sure they'll understand. Hey!' She spluttered indignantly as Garth removed the phone from her hand.

'Mr Wakeham, I'm Garth Clayton, and Barker is my children's dog. I want him kept alive at all costs, and I'm told you're the only person who can do it.'

The voice that reached him was thin and cool. 'I understand that, of course, but from what I hear of his description there would be no point in attempting an operation.'

'You don't know there's no point if you don't try it,' Garth protested desperately. 'When you get here you may find it looks more hopeful. I'll pay all your expenses and any fee you like. Just name it.'

'Mr Clayton, I appreciate your feelings, but I have a meeting at any moment and I'm afraid I can't break into it for a hopeless case. Will you please put me back to Miss McGeorge?'

'No, I damned well won't,' Garth said furiously. 'Barker may be just a hopeless case to you, but to my children he's a friend that they love. What's so important about a damned meeting that you can't leave it for a sick dog?'

'I'm preparing a very important paper-'

'The paper can wait. My dog can't. You're his last chance.'

'Your dog has no chance. An operation would be a total waste of time and I don't have the time to waste.' The phone went dead.

It took a long time for Garth to replace the receiver, because he was trying to come to terms with the fact that his money and power, the talismans he relied on, were useless. He was almost in a state of shock.

The room seemed to have developed an echoing quality, and details stood out with alarming sharpness. Cindy had climbed onto a chair next to Barker and was lying against him, her arms as far around him as they would go, her face buried in his thick fur. She was sobbing frantically, having understood that her father had failed.

Adrian's face was pale and set, as though he were clenching his teeth. Faye was standing beside Cindy, stroking her head and murmuring useless words of comfort. She looked up and her expression was the hardest thing of all to bear. She hated him. She'd warned him of this on the day they'd found Barker and he'd brushed her aside for his own selfish convenience. Now his children were paying the price in anguish and Faye would never forgive him. Nor did he deserve to be forgiven.

The echo vanished as he controlled his shock. The room became normal again. But his daughter was still crying her heart out and something agonizing was happening to his own heart, as if it were being torn out of him.

'What did he say?' Miss McGeorge asked.

'He won't come,' Garth said bleakly. 'It's more important to go to some meeting.'

'Mr Wakeham is a brilliant surgeon, but I'm afraid he's ruled by vanity. He wouldn't take on a case as far advanced as this. A failure would spoil his record.'

Faye stepped back as Garth approached Cindy and touched her head. 'Darling,' he said tentatively.

She looked up at him with a flash of hope that he might have thought of something at the last minute.

'I'm sorry,' he said heavily. 'There's nothing I can do.'

'There is,' she insisted. 'There must be. You can't just give up.'

'That man was our last chance and he won't come.'

'But you could make him come.'

'I can't force him.'

'You could if you really wanted to.'

'Cindy, I do really want to-'

'No, you don't. You don't care if Barker dies.' She was heaving with sobs as she fought to get the words out. 'I thought-when-you came-everything would be all right-'cos you can do anything-but you don't want to-'

'Darling, please believe me-'

Garth reached for her but she fought off his embrace wildly, screaming, 'You don't! You don't care! You don't care about anyone! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE

YOU!' She flung herself into Faye's arms, sobbing violently.

Garth backed out of the room, his horrified eyes fixed on his daughter.

By now it was late. The animal hospital had spacious grounds. Garth didn't know how long he walked through them, pursued by his own thoughts like avenging furies.

This was the day Faye had warned him would come; the day when his sins would come home to him. And they were terrible sins. Wandering wretchedly under the trees, Garth accused himself of the worst kind of selfishness, neglecting his little daughter then using her love to get his own way.

He remembered her joy when he'd appeared at Faye's house. It was completely irrational that she should have still loved him when he'd given her so little. He knew he deserved no praise for having kept her love. It was to the child's credit, not his own. Uncritical devotion was a part of Cindy's character, as it was with her mother. With both of them he'd taken it as a right. And he'd betrayed both of them.

His only saving grace was that Cindy's adoration had touched his heart and he'd opened his arms to her with true warmth. Now their mutual love was genuine. But that was no credit to him either, for who could help loving Cindy?

And there was Adrian, who'd been rightly suspicious of his father at first. He'd regarded that as a challenge and set out to overcome it. With the Outland incident he hadn't even seen the pit that yawned at his feet. But for Faye, he would have fallen in. He'd meant to use what Adrian had told him, but in the very act of signing the documents something had held him back. He'd torn them up and even tossed away the pen, as though it was contaminated. He'd lost the land, but he'd gained his son. Thanks to Faye's timely warning.

In the darkness he experienced the most terrible depths of self-disgust. His beloved children were enduring heartbreak and it was his fault. His wife had abandoned him as a lost cause and he knew now that she'd been right. He blighted everything he touched and nothing could live near him. Cindy's hate was a dreadful punishment, but infinitely worse was the knowledge that he deserved it.

He sat down on a bench and buried his head in his hands. He'd always been the man in control, but now that it mattered as never before he was totally helpless.

He felt a light touch on his head, and looked up to find his daughter regarding him. He almost flinched away from her, but there was no judgement in her small, tear-stained face.

'I'm sorry, darling,' he said huskily. 'I did my best. Truly I did. But I don't know what else to do…'

'It's not your fault, Daddy,' she said gently. 'I'm sorry for what I said.'

Her generosity brought tears to his eyes. For a moment he couldn't speak. When he tried to say something the words came out haltingly.

'It is my fault- He was always too old- I should have insisted on another dog-'

She shook her head decidedly. 'Then it wouldn't have been Barker.'

'But you'd have had him for a lot longer-'

'It wouldn't have been the same,' Cindy said simply. 'Barker is-Barker. Even if we didn't have him for long, we did have him.'

'A few short weeks,' he murmured, unwilling to let himself off the hook.

'But we had those weeks, that's what counts.'

There was an ache in his throat that made it hard to speak. 'I wanted-to save him for you, darling, but- but-'

Overwhelmed, he put his arms about her and held her close, his shoulders shaking. She hugged him back. 'It's all right, Daddy,' she whispered. 'Truly, it's all right.'