Margaret McDonagh - Brought Together by Baby

‘Holly, what do you want to do?’ Gus asked gruffly, taking her by surprise by including her. ‘Did Julia express her views to you on donating?’

‘I know she didn’t carry a donor card, but we never discussed it. Personally I’m fully in favour of giving someone on the transplant waiting list the chance of a better life, but I’ll support whatever decision you make,’ she told him, conscious that helping others had never been a high priority for her sister.

‘Like Holly, I support the donor programme. Let’s hope that along with the baby some good can come from this tragedy.’ A silence stretched heavily for a long moment before Gus continued, his voice raw. ‘I think we should take medical advice and let Julia rest in peace.’

Holly was relieved they were on the same wavelength—on this, at least. ‘I agree. It’s the right thing to do, Gus.’

‘I know it isn’t an easy decision, but I hope the knowledge that other people’s lives will be saved might help a little,’ Mr Haggerty offered, scribbling notes in the file. ‘And I can assure you Julia will be treated with every care and respect.’

‘Thank you.’ Gus’s tone was stiff and guarded. ‘Will there need to be an official identification?’

Holly sucked in a breath. This was something she hadn’t thought about. She glanced at Gus but could read none of his emotions. What must this be doing to him? And how could he bear it if he had to identify Julia? There and then she decided that if he was called on to perform the task he would not be doing it alone. It was the last thing she wanted, but she would be there for him—even though his pain and grief over Julia twisted the knife ever more cruelly inside her.

‘As I said, the police will be speaking with you and helping you through the aftermath of this dreadful event. There’ll be a routine investigation, and you’ll be kept informed of the outcome,’ the consultant told them, rolling his pen in his fingers. ‘But you won’t be asked to identify her. The police are satisfied with the chain of evidence … and I’m sad to say the accident has rendered her facially unrecognisable.’

Although relieved that she and Gus would be spared one trauma, Holly wrestled with the disturbing reality of Julia’s injuries. What a tragic irony that in death her sister had lost the thing she’d most valued in life—her looks. She couldn’t bear to think of the horror Julia had experienced, or how much she might have known and suffered. However bad their relationship, however much Julia had hurt her, and however much she’d hated her sister’s betrayals—most recently and painfully with Gus—she would never have wished such a devastating accident on her.

‘Does Julia have any unique distinguishing marks?’

Mr Haggerty’s question drew Holly from her thoughts. To her surprise Gus remained silent, his gaze averted, and realising he must be in shock, and had no intention of answering, she spoke up. ‘There’s her tattoo.’

‘A tattoo? Can you describe it?’ the consultant asked, raising one thick dark eyebrow.

‘Julia had it done at sixteen as an act of rebellion,’ Holly explained. A shiver ran through her as she recalled the uproar her sister had joyfully provoked over the tattoo. ‘There were big rows—especially with our father. It’s of a mouth—scarlet lips, shaped as if blowing a kiss—and there are words around it.’

‘What words? And where is the tattoo?’ Mr Haggerty queried, making notes.

A soft bloom of colour pinkened her cheeks. ‘It’s on her right buttock, and the words read “Kiss my butt” ,’ she admitted with a nervous laugh, her blush deepening.

‘Very distinctive,’ Mr Haggerty replied, with a small smile of his own.

The brief moment of unexpected and embarrassed humour failed to lessen the tension that hung in the room, and Holly felt increasingly conscious of Gus’s brooding presence. Gus, who had hurt her so badly and who, despite everything, she could not abandon, even though his grief for her sister and the reality of their baby only magnified her own pain.

Holly jumped as the shrill sound of a pager broke the silence.

‘That’s mine,’ Mr Haggerty confirmed. ‘Excuse me a moment.’

As he reached for the phone on the desk and made a quick call Holly met Gus’s gaze, her heart squeezing at the distant, withdrawn look in his gorgeous green eyes. The chasm between them seemed more intimidating than ever. The days ahead would be difficult, and with no idea what the future held in store she felt anxious and uncertain.

‘There’ll be other questions, I’m sure, but I think we’ve covered all we need to for now,’ the consultant said softly, putting down the phone and closing the file. ‘That was my registrar calling from PICU. They’ve finished the current tests and the baby is now settled and stable.’

‘Thank God.’

Gus’s heartfelt words and the shimmer of moisture in his eyes made Holly’s chest tighten. Her voice wavered as she asked the question she knew Gus wanted answered as urgently as she did. ‘Can we see him now?’

‘Of course,’ Mr Haggerty allowed, standing up and rounding the desk.

As Gus rose swiftly to his feet Holly followed suit, disconcerted by the frown he shot towards her. What was he thinking? Was he cross about the moment of laughter over Julia’s tattoo? Or didn’t he want her to see the baby? Filled with stubborn determination, she raised her chin in challenge. However difficult it proved to be, and however much it deepened her own pain and sense of emptiness, no one—not even Gus—would keep her from her nephew.

After offering his condolences and his continuing support, Mr Haggerty shook their hands. Then, smiling broadly for the first time, he opened the door and issued the longed-for invitation.

‘Gus, it’s time for you to meet your son.’

‘HE IS so beautiful.’

Gus couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that formed at the awed reverence in Holly’s softly spoken words—words she had repeated countless times since they’d entered the Paediatric Intensive Care Unit and met his son.

His son .

He would never forget the moment he’d looked at and held his child for the first time. He’d thought his heart would burst right out of his chest, and his eyes had stung with uncharacteristic tears. That the baby was stable and robust enough to be picked up had been a joyful surprise. At first he’d been terrified of hurting or dropping him, his hands seeming too large and clumsy, but he’d soon adjusted and had felt the same kind of awe and amazement Holly had expressed.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.