nodded and struggled to talk. To explain. ‘When the fire started it was just a bit of smoke. I stopped and told everyone to get off but the boy only got as far as me and said something about his bag. He ran back down the aisle before I could stop him. Then something exploded. The windows of the bus blew out and he got caught in the flames. I couldn’t leave him.’
Kitty glanced at Anna, communicating mutely. Carlos would be hailed a hero, which meant the hospital would be swarming with media. They would all want a piece of him.
In silent consultation they agreed to take their time treating him, giving him a chance to catch his breath, and then they’d see if he wanted to make a statement. There were lots of variables and it wasn’t Kitty’s place to comment on what he should do.
‘He was in a bad way. Do you know how he is?’ Carlos asked, oblivious to the silent exchange going on between Kitty and Anna. He appeared to be more concerned about the boy than himself.
‘He’s here,’ Kitty told him. ‘He was brought in just before you. He’s being looked after.’
‘So he’s alive?’
‘As far as I know,’ she said. She didn’t know what else she could tell Carlos. She didn’t have any more information and she wouldn’t be able to disclose anything she did know. She was sure that if the boy survived he’d want to thank Carlos personally. She hoped so.
Anna and Kitty worked slowly and meticulously. They washed the burnt skin on Carlos’s arms and hands and debrided the blisters, applying antibiotic cream before carefully separating his fingers and wrapping them individually.
‘Will your wife be able to manage at home with you?’ Kitty asked as she finished wrapping the last finger. ‘We will need to keep you here for a few hours, just to keep an eye on you, but then if your readings are all within normal limits you’ll be able to go home. You’ll need to have some follow-up appointments for your lungs, though, and we will also make you an appointment with the burns unit in a few days. It’s here in the hospital. Will someone be able to drive you here?’
‘My wife doesn’t drive.’
‘That’s OK,’ Kitty replied. ‘I’ll speak to your employer. They will have to arrange transport for you seeing as this was a workplace accident. Is that OK with you?’
Carlos nodded.
‘All right, let’s get you comfortable and then I’ll pop out and see if your wife is here yet.’
Kitty ducked into the staff kitchen for a break while Carlos had a few minutes with his wife. As all the other accident victims were being taken care of she decided she’d take the chance to top up her caffeine level. As she’d expected, the waiting room was now crowded with reporters all wanting to get an interview with Carlos, but she’d leave that decision to him. She skirted the waiting room and was just adding sugar to her coffee when Mike walked in.
He looked tired and Kitty was worried that things hadn’t gone smoothly. He had been treating the boy from the bus, the one Carlos had saved. Kitty hoped it hadn’t been in vain. She forgot that she’d barely spoken to him since their argument. At work things were different. She could put her personal issues aside. She’d learnt to compartmentalise her life and, in fact, the hospital often provided an escape. For the most part, no matter how bad things were in her own life, work was a constant reminder that she wasn’t the only one suffering. On a couple of occasions she had felt that her life sucked more than her patients’, but she always found work to be a good distraction. Right now, her disagreement with Mike was minor compared to their day so far. Things weren’t so bad that she couldn’t reach out to him.
‘How did it go?’
‘He’s alive but he has burns to about thirty per cent of his body and to his airway. He’s been transferred to the burns unit.’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘All because he left his laptop behind.’ He shook his head. It sounded ridiculous but Kitty guessed the boy hadn’t stopped to think about the consequences. Hadn’t thought about the risks. And now it was too late. What’s done was done. She knew better than most that there was no going back. The past couldn’t be changed no matter how much you might wish it.
Mike filled a glass from the water cooler. ‘When are you coming home?’ he asked over his shoulder.
‘That depends,’ she said, knowing she wasn’t telling the truth. She didn’t think she would be going back. ‘Have you changed your mind about my plans?’
‘No.’
Which meant he assumed she’d changed her mind.
‘Well, I haven’t either,’ she said.
His voice was quiet, his tone not malicious, but he sounded very definite as he said, ‘I’m not going to be a cuckold in my own house.’
That was part of the problem. Even though she’d moved in with him after six months and had now been living with him for five, it was still his house. Not theirs. He still held all the cards, still had all the control.
‘It’s hardly the same thing,’ she argued.
‘It is to me,’ he said as he drained his glass. ‘You will be pregnant with another man’s baby.’
‘But surely you can understand my reasons?’
He was shaking his head. ‘I can’t imagine what could possibly make you want to do this. Jess has other options.’
‘But she’s my sister!’ That was another part of the problem. He really didn’t get her need for family. He didn’t get her desperate desire to hold onto what was left of it.
‘IVF isn’t an option,’ Kitty said, even though Mike knew that. Jess had been diagnosed with uterine cancer three years ago and after harvesting and storing her eggs she’d had a total hysterectomy, meaning that the simplest option was not an option. ‘That leaves adoption or surrogacy. They’re not likely to be approved for adoption given Jess’s medical history, and finding someone else to offer to be a surrogate could take months—years even.’
Surrogacy in Australia was heavily legislated. Each state had its own laws and although New South Wales was a bit more lenient than other parts of the country, surrogate mothers couldn’t be paid. They could be reimbursed for their medical costs but couldn’t benefit financially, which meant that would-be parents needed to find someone who would do it out of the kindness of their hearts. It wasn’t like asking someone to mind your pets while you went on a holiday—you were asking someone to lend you their body for forty weeks or more. Asking someone to subject themselves to tests and procedures to fulfil your own dreams. It wasn’t easy.
Kitty closed her eyes and pictured Jess holding a baby. Her baby.
She opened her eyes and looked at Mike.
Those was her choices. Mike or her sister’s baby.
‘You can’t be their only solution,’ he said.
‘Maybe not,’ she replied. ‘But I am their best one.’
Mike’s pager beeped and he pulled it from his waistband to read the message. He glanced up and Kitty knew he was about to leave, but she also knew he’d want the last word. True to form he said, ‘If you want to do this you’ll have to do it
