she has her meal break.’
‘Will they let him stay with you in hospital?’
‘They’ll have to.’ A new and horrible fear reared its head. ‘If he has to leave then I’m not staying.’ She didn’t like the frown on Tom’s face. ‘You think there’ll be a problem with that?’
‘I hope not. I know there’s never any question of not letting a mother stay with a sick child. I’ve just never heard of the reverse happening. Unless it’s a breast-feeding infant, of course.’ Tom was still looking concerned. ‘You’re going to need to rest and concentrate on yourself for a little while. Is there nobody that could care for Mickey for you?’ He cleared his throat. ‘What about his…father?’
‘No chance.’ Emma turned her face away from Tom, dismissing the suggestion. ‘I’ll pick my own time to let him know about Mickey, thanks.’
That was something that would have to be handled very carefully.
‘Besides, I don’t even know if he’s available.’
For Mickey or for her? Simon had been asking for her in the hospital in London where they’d met. He’d told someone he’d never forgotten her but that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted her back in his life, did it? Even if he wasn’t married any longer. Emma tried to squash the anxiety that had plagued the decision process in planning to come to New Zealand. She wouldn’t want Tom to pick up an undertone and think she was totally desperate. Trailing around the world on the off chance of rekindling a past romance.
‘He…travels quite a lot,’ she added hastily.
‘Right.’ Tom sounded disinterested. In fact, he was edging away from her bed. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re feeling a bit better, Emma. I’ll try and get in to see you again, maybe.’
He stepped further away. ‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.’
His exit route was blocked by the arrival of the emergency department’s nurse manager.
‘Emma? I’m sorry. I’ve done my best but there just isn’t the bed space to let Mickey stay in with you. We’ve got someone from Social Welfare coming in to discuss options.’
‘What?’ Dismay didn’t begin to encompass the sinking sensation that hit Emma. ‘No!’
‘I’m sorry.’ The nurse manager was looking at Tom as he reiterated his apology. Maybe he was looking for some moral support in having to enforce an unpalatable situation. ‘I’ve really done my best.’
‘No.’ Emma pushed at the covers of her bed. ‘I’m not having Mickey taken care of by strangers.’
Luckily, no one had raised the side of her bed. In her drug-induced, pain-free haze, it was remarkably easy to sit up and swing her legs over the side.
‘Emma!’ Tom sounded horrified. ‘What do think you’re doing?’
‘I’m going to find my son.’
‘You can’t walk on that leg,’ the nurse manager declared. ‘You’ll reopen the wound and start bleeding again. You could start bleeding internally again as well.’
‘I really don’t care.’
Likewise, Emma didn’t care that she was being irrational and probably ridiculous. Her brain was too fuzzy to be able to articulate why it would be so unacceptable to have Mickey cared for by strangers, it was far easier to just give in to the overwhelming need to keep her child close by. They’d almost been ripped apart for ever only hours ago. Couldn’t these people understand how important it was for them both to stay as close as possible now?
‘Emma—please, get back on the bed.’ Tom was moving to help the nurse manager.
She pushed his hand away. ‘No. I have to find Mickey. Where’s the cafeteria?’
The curtain of the area Emma was in was pulled back to admit an orderly. ‘All set to go up to Theatre?’ he queried cheerfully.
‘No!’ Panic stepped in and brought tears to Emma’s eyes. She covered her face with her hands to try and force them back. Getting hysterical was not going to help her win this battle.
‘Emma?’
She knew it was Tom’s hands holding her arms. Emma knew that touch well. ‘What?’
‘How ’bout if I hang around and look after Mickey for you? Would you go up to Theatre and get your leg sorted?’
‘You can’t do that.’
‘Why not?’
The nurse manager’s voice held the same tone as Emma’s had. ‘It’s not just a babysitting stint,’ he said. ‘Emma’s going to need to be kept in hospital for a few days, mate.’
‘So? I’ve got four days off starting tonight. I can take Mickey home with me.’
Emma swallowed. Hard. She dropped her hands and turned a tear-streaked face up to Tom. ‘You’d do that?’
‘If that’s what it takes to make you happy to stay and get the treatment you need.’
‘Yes…but…’
‘I’m not sure Social Welfare will be all that happy about this, Tom.’ The nurse manager was staring at Tom with a very odd expression. ‘You’re not registered as a foster-parent. You’re a single male. You’re as much of a stranger as anyone else in Christchurch would be.’
‘No.’ Emma shook her head vigorously. ‘Tom’s not a stranger. He saved our lives. Mine and Mickey’s.’
‘But you don’t know anything about him.’
‘I know enough.’
The nurse manager shook his head. He raised his eyebrows eloquently. ‘I suppose they’ll make all the checks they feel they need to but, Tom, do you actually know anything about looking after kids?’
‘I can look after myself.’ Tom sounded puzzled. ‘Kids are just short people as far as the necessities of life go, aren’t they?’
‘This one’s a bit special. He’ll need extra care.’
Tom’s hand was still on Emma’s arm. She felt the encouraging squeeze. ‘Is he so difficult to look after?’
‘Not really.’ Emma was happy to respond to the encouragement. She wanted Tom to succeed where she couldn’t. It was the only acceptable option given that she wouldn’t make it as far as the door if she tried to walk out of here. ‘He needs to be carried a lot.’
‘No problem.’
‘And he still needs to wear a nappy. His bladder control isn’t great yet.’
Tom clearly had to rally from a moment of being taken aback. ‘I’ll manage,’ he decided. ‘I’ve got friends with kids. They can give me a few pointers.’
‘Mickey
