Read The Other Child for Free Online Page B

time she saw this protection mechanism kick in. It was soon after they met – only their third date – and they were walking through central London on the way to the theatre when he took a call from a junior colleague. They talked for a few minutes, something about a patient, a young girl who was in a bad way. ‘Listen, I’ve told the ICU guys she’s not an operative candidate,’ he growled. Then she heard him say something about ‘withdrawal of care’. And then he grew even more irritable. ‘Listen, if I’m not operating, I don’t see why I need to come in and talk to the damned family. I really haven’t got time for a weeping mother right now.’ He glanced at Tess, as if realizing what he must sound like, and then he slowed, turned away, lowered his voice. ‘The ICU needs to handle the withdrawal of support and sort out the family. Yeah. Right. OK. Sure . . .’
    As they pushed through the revolving doors into the lobby of the theatre, she wanted to get away from him – jump on the train, go home, hold onto Joe. The space between them was suddenly fraught. Greg paid for the programme in silence, but then as they took their seats he reached for her hand and looked into her eyes. ‘If we didn’t detach from the emotions sometimes,’ he said, ‘we’d go insane. It’s a protection mechanism, Tess, that’s all. I know it sounds tasteless, but it’s just a way to cope. If I didn’t cut myself off sometimes, then I’d have to ask why – why are gorgeous children born with holes in the heart, arteries switched, obstructed valves? Why do babies’ hearts fail before they can even take a breath?’ He closed his eyes, briefly. ‘It might seem disrespectful to talk this way about a dying child but if I didn’t, sometimes, then all the unanswerable questions would close in on me. I wouldn’t be able to do my job.’ He squeezed her hand, then smiled. ‘If it’s any consolation for you, the suicide rate among surgeons is five times the general population.’ Before she could answer, the theatre lights dimmed, the audience fell silent and the curtain rose to reveal the actors standing on the bright stage.
    She takes another sip of the latte. It tastes harsh and slightly gritty. Greg is staring out of the kitchen window now, no doubt thinking about the small boy whose heart he could not mend.
    ‘I wish you’d talk to me more. You’ve had all this going on and you haven’t even mentioned it.’
    ‘It only happened last week.’
    ‘A week is ages, Greg. This is terrible. I feel like since we got here we hardly ever talk,’ she says. ‘I miss you.’
    ‘I know, I miss you too. This is intense – we knew it would be, but I feel bad that you’re so alone right now. I should be here for you, and Joe. I feel like I’m letting you down all the time. Are you OK? Are you feeling OK, physically?’
    ‘I’m fine, a bit bloated, sore boobs, and my ankles are starting to swell rather attractively.’ She glances down at her bare feet. ‘It’s the anomaly scan on Friday.’
    He nods. ‘OK. Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The parents of this boy . . . there’s a meeting about it Friday and I can’t miss it. I can’t get it changed, because there are so many people involved. The whole hospital machine has to kick in when this happens. I’m so sorry, Tess.’
    ‘You can’t come to the scan?’
    ‘If I could, I would, but these parents, they’re . . . they’ve kind of lost it and there are a lot of people involved now. Could we reschedule the scan?’
    ‘No,’ she says, ‘we can’t. It has to be done before twenty-three weeks and I’m twenty-three weeks this Saturday.’ This, she realizes, is the reason he is still here. This is what he wanted to tell her. He might not even have mentioned the little boy’s death if it wasn’t for this.
    ‘I wish it wasn’t like this,’ he says. ‘I really do.’
    She says nothing.
    ‘I’d like to be there when we find out the