Kitabı oku: «Keep You Safe», sayfa 5

Chapter 9

I felt my eyes grow heavy as I sat in the recliner that had been placed in the corner of Rosie’s hospital room. However, as soon as I got close to sleep, some beep or boop would be emitted from the machines surrounding my little girl’s bed, and I would spring awake, my heart thumping.

I was exhausted. I hadn’t truly slept in days, and felt at times both over-fuelled by adrenaline and as lethargic as if I had been trying to run underwater. This must be what torture by sleep deprivation felt like. I would honestly sell my soul to the highest bidder if it meant that I would get more than an hour of sleep at a time.

Of course, it wasn’t as if I didn’t have people around me telling me to take care of myself. Lucy, Rosie’s paediatrician Dr Ryan, various shift nurses – they all told me I needed to sleep, and I knew they were right. I understood that I needed to focus on myself too, but I found it impossible. The stress alone was making my body rigid with anxiety. No matter if I wanted to rest, I felt constantly on. My mind still raced with worry and the never-ending chorus of ‘what if?’

Until Rosie started to show signs of any improvement, my life was at a standstill.

After fixing my hair into a more comfortable top knot, I got up from where I sat and walked to her bedside, dropping to a kneel. Her eyes were closed and she was sleeping. They had her on a respirator at the moment because she was having problems breathing due to the pneumonia. I would have given anything to remove the machines and tubes that seemed to engulf her. I wanted her to be awake so I could talk to her and reassure her that she would be OK, but I knew that sleep was good for her and it was what she needed.

Resting my head against the rail of the hospital bed, I felt myself starting to nod off again until I heard someone come into the room.

‘Kate?’ It was Frances, a friendly nurse I’d come to know in the six days we’d been here.

She checked on my little girl’s condition, but from her chart I already knew there was little to report. They’d taken blood tests on admission to the hospital which had confirmed pneumonia. As it was, we just had to wait for the antibiotics to do their job.

Wait. It seemed like all I’d been doing this past week.

To my surprise, the nurse took a seat alongside me. ‘How are you?’ she asked, touching my arm. ‘You know you really should try to—’

‘I know. But sleep isn’t easy…’

‘I understand. It’s a horrible time, but rest assured we’re doing all we can. Measles, it can be such a nasty business when it takes this course. But, to be honest, it’s a long time since I’ve come across an outbreak in this hospital.’

She paused for a moment and then leaned forward in her chair, clasping her hands in front of her. ‘I heard that the other little girl from Rosie’s school has since recovered?’

‘Apparently so.’

‘And there haven’t been any other cases in the school or in the town apart from Rosie?’

‘No, I don’t think so. Not that I know of anyway. Thank goodness.’

Appearing thoughtful, Frances seemed to be studying me. ‘I understand the reason why Rosie isn’t vaccinated. And I know it was a hard choice that you and your late husband had to make. But do you happen to know why the other little girl wasn’t?’

‘I really don’t know the family all that well…’ I answered. My head felt foggy.

‘No idea if it’s a political position? Something religious perhaps?’

She seemed to be just making idle conversation, but something about her tone of voice made me perk up. I tried to climb through the swamp of grey matter in my head.

‘Why do you ask? And what does it matter?’

But the nurse didn’t have time to answer my question, because at that moment Lucy entered the waiting room with Christine Campbell in tow.

Handing over my recent post as well as some other bits and pieces I needed from the house (my iPad and charger, one of Rosie’s favourite dinosaurs, a random book that had been on my bedside table), Lucy took a seat beside me. Christine sat on my other side as I introduced Frances.

‘Christine was really anxious about Rosie,’ Lucy supplied when I looked curiously at our new visitor. It was nice of Christine to come, and surprising too when I didn’t know her especially well.

But that was one of the positives about living in a small community.

‘Oh you’re all from the same town?’ Frances smiled. ‘I was just asking Kate about that other little girl with measles. Do you know her too?’ she enquired pleasantly.

I shifted uncomfortably. Given that Clara was almost certainly the cause of Rosie’s current trials, I didn’t like to think about the Coopers all that much. While I was happy that little Clara had recovered, I couldn’t deny that I felt a little… jealous too. That they were the ones with all the luck and resources, as well as having each other to lean on when things were hard. While I had nothing and no one.

Apart from Lucy of course, who had once again been wonderful. My mother had tried to make arrangements to travel up from Cork, but my dad was poorly with sciatica and, as she didn’t drive, she was relying on a lift from a generous neighbour.

Part of me was almost glad she hadn’t yet managed it. At least I could stay here at the hospital and focus all of my attention on Rosie, without having to think about hosting my mother too, who suffered from her nerves and, God help her, wasn’t the best in a crisis.

But while I was reticent to discuss the Coopers, Christine was practically jumping in her seat waiting for her turn to speak. ‘Yes, we do know the family,’ she said, her tone barely concealing her disapproval as she pushed her glasses back to the top of her nose.

‘Unusual that she wasn’t vaccinated either, isn’t it?’ Frances said conversationally. ‘Unlucky too, I suppose.’

‘Nothing at all to do with luck,’ added Christine with narrowed eyes. ‘It’s because the girl’s parents – the father in particular – are a pair of sanctimonious lunatics. Tom is one of those conspiracy theory types,’ she added bitterly.

I shot Lucy a look. I was grateful for Christine’s visit, but my daughter’s bedside wasn’t the place for gossip, or airing personal grievances.

In turn, my friend apologised with her eyes.

‘Christine, like me, the Coopers have just experienced a very scary time, except unlike me, they’ve managed to come out of it OK. Whatever the reasons for their choices, it’s their business. I’m just glad their little girl is better. That’s all that matters.’

Lucy spoke up. ‘Yes, and also Madeleine has been so concerned about Rosie. She asks about her all the time. The mother and I are friends,’ she added, for Frances’ benefit.

‘Please understand, I’m not trying to gossip,’ the nurse went on. ‘I was just wondering about their reasons, maybe there’s a good reason—’

‘Nope. Absolutely not. They knew exactly what they were doing in not vaccinating. And they took the risk anyway. Put all of our children in danger.’

‘Christine, please…’ Lucy looked mortified.

‘I see,’ the nurse murmured softly.

‘And, Kate, you know my cousin is a solicitor? Well, we were discussing the situation about the Coopers over lunch the other day… and he tells me there is a school of thought that suggests if you decide not to vaccinate your child, and another gets seriously ill like Rosie has, you could potentially be held liable.’

I shook my head; was Christine seriously suggesting that I was the one responsible for Rosie’s plight? ‘Are you saying I’m to blame for this?’ I gasped, a bit hysterically.

I looked to Lucy for help, but she wore an expression I couldn’t read. Was it confusion? Or concern? Why couldn’t I follow this conversation?

Jesus, I needed to sleep.

But Christine’s dark eyes were bright and she was shaking her head.

‘No, Kate, she’s not suggesting at all that you’re responsible,’ Frances put in. ‘But I think what your friend is suggesting is that the other parents could be. They failed to vaccinate their child. That same child contracted a preventable illness, passing it on to Rosie who’s since become very ill.’

‘What does it matter who’s responsible?’ I cried. ‘Please,’ I implored Lucy. ‘I can’t deal with this. I… I’m not able for visitors just now. My daughter needs me.’

The nurse stood up. ‘Kate is right. Perhaps this isn’t the best time…’

I felt myself start to relax just a bit, but Christine wasn’t finished. ‘But you have to think about this, Kate. I mean, I’m not trying to force your hand or talk you into anything you are uncomfortable with, I just want you to think about it. There was a deliberate choice made. You couldn’t vaccinate Rosie without risking her life. The Coopers weren’t faced with that decision – they just decided not to bother. And don’t forget Madeleine sent Clara to school that morning, knowing she was unwell. This was what my cousin found interesting. Think about it. She doesn’t protect her kids from infectious diseases and then she sends her feverish daughter to school. She deliberately put ours at risk.’

‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘It was just unfortunate, just one of those things. And it’s a risk I had to take every day too knowing Rosie isn’t protected. It’s just as much my fault as anyone else’s.’

‘How can you not see it?’ Christine persisted. Lucy put a hand on her arm, trying to quieten her.

‘Because nobody does that!’ I cried, outraged at the very suggestion. ‘No parent would ever intend such a thing.’

But amidst my protests, the alternative scenario sparked a thought in me.

If Madeleine Cooper, knowing Clara was ill, hadn’t sent her daughter to school that morning, wouldn’t Rosie have avoided getting measles?

And wouldn’t my little girl now be at home making up fearsome scenarios for her dinosaurs, instead of lying in a hospital bed, fighting for breath?

Chapter 10

MAD MUM MUSINGS

Parents Not Allowed

I see a woman hovering under a seven-foot play frame, arms aloft like a wedding guest waiting to catch the bridal bouquet. But then she turns and I see, not anticipation, but outright terror on her face.

‘Oh my God, she’s going to break her neck,’ she gasps, horrified. ‘Anyone know who her mother is?’

The kid apparently in such grave peril is mine – except she’s been climbing that play frame since she was four. When I tell the woman this, she stares at me, eyes wide with recrimination, and I realise that, yikes: this mama bear’s a helicopter.

A species of parent that is all too common in our favourite playground.

I love taking my six- and eight-year-old kids to the playground for many reasons: first and foremost so they can play and muck about – with other kids or by themselves – as well as learn to negotiate the world on their own terms.

They run around, laugh, climb play frames and make friends – all the usual things kids do at parks and playgrounds – while I sit on a bench at a safe distance, chat to other parents or (gasp!) idly scroll through my phone.

For my two, it’s a space that remains free from everyday restrictions (within reasonable limits). I don’t stand over them or interfere and it seems this, at least to the helicopters, makes me not just a Mad Mum but a Very Bad one, perhaps even worthy of social services intervention.

Because helicopters come to the playground to be Alert At All Times, hovering endlessly over their charges – coaxing up the ladder and down the slide, bouncing gently on the seesaw, swinging endlessly on the swing.

I know not every parent is the same, and there’s no denying that it can be hard to just let kids at it, especially if it’s your and Junior’s first time in the place, and you see everyone else hand-holding. And if you don’t, it immediately makes you look like you don’t give a shit.

I’m also sure no one ever thinks he or she is a helicopter parent, and it goes without saying that everyone is just trying to do right by their child.

But does more worry equal more love?

For my part, I’m inclined to be free range because I remember my own childhood and how my parents didn’t have the time, let alone the desire, to watch every misstep or foresee every potential problem.

Don’t child-proof the world, is my motto. World-proof the child. (Thankfully my husband agrees with me.)

And every time someone else is horrified that he or I let our brood try something potentially ‘too dangerous for their age’, I wave concern aside with the assertion that aren’t they better off learning now – before it’s too late – to respect the danger of what they are doing and negotiate it safely?

I want them to try things they thought they couldn’t do, fail, try again and repeat until they are successful. Isn’t this a necessary life skill in itself?

Psychological studies also show that children benefit from, if not actual danger, the feeling of danger and related sensations that result from activities like climbing up to get a bird’s-eye view, playing with dangerous tools, or exploring on their own.

With that in mind, I recently read an article about a playground in New York that embraces an interesting philosophy: parents (helicopters or otherwise) are not allowed.

After the adults sign a waiver, their kids are let loose on a small field full of all kinds of detritus; tyres, a plastic water cooler, pieces of wood in all sorts of sizes and shapes, thrown out household equipment etc., where they do what kids have done for ever: have fun and figure out how to make and break things.

Given all the stuff lying around for them to play with, it’s inevitable that some of them will occasionally get dirty and scuffed up and scratched.

In fact, that’s pretty much the point.

So parents, maybe try to switch off those whirring fret-motors at the playground, come back down to earth once in a while and even consider sitting with some of us feckless miscreants for a minute or two?

It’ll work wonders for your nerves and you never know, you and your kids might just have some fun…

Clara Cooper couldn’t wait to get back to school.

She felt herself nearly shaking with excitement as her mother pulled up in front of Applewood Primary. Clara just wanted things to get back to normal; she was eager to go to drama class again and see her friends and, as much as she would only admit it secretly to herself, she even missed having to do homework. She felt desperate to feel like a normal kid, instead of a sick one who had to be quarantined from her life and everyone in it.

‘All set, honey?’ her mum asked with a smile.

Clara was about to reply when her stupid brother interrupted her.

‘Why would anyone be excited to go back to school?’ he sneered. ‘I’d rather be at home watching TV.’

Sometimes Jake could be an idiot. He just didn’t get it – but Clara wasn’t going to let him ruin her mood.

‘Yeah, I’m ready, Mum. I’m really excited, actually.’

‘That’s my girl,’ said her mum. ‘At least I know which one of you is the smart one,’ she teased. ‘Do you want me to walk you in? Or…’

But Clara was already shaking her head. Jake had flung open the door of the car and jumped from the vehicle as soon as it came to a stop. He threw up a hand in salute and shouted, ‘Bye, Mum,’ as he ran towards his friends, who were gathered at the classroom doors.

Clara wanted to follow his lead. After a couple of weeks of being sick and coddled around the clock (not that she hadn’t liked that – she had felt terrible after all), she was now ready to spread her wings and be independent.

‘I’m fine, I just want to go see my friends. Is that OK?’ she asked politely.

Her mother grinned. ‘Of course! Now, just wait a minute though. Let me get a picture of you – I want to put it on Facebook. So many people have been asking about you and I want to show them just how well you look and how excited you are. Speaking of which, Auntie Fiona is picking you up later. Now that you’re better, Cam and Brian are staying with us for the afternoon, and she’s going to bring you all back to our house.’

‘Great.’ Clara forced a smile, but in truth she wasn’t too keen on her cousins coming to visit. Brian was OK, but Cam was just so moody and nasty to everyone. She didn’t know why his mum and dad didn’t warn him to be kind and show manners like hers insisted she and Jake always did. But, she supposed, some kids were just like that.

Her mum held up her iPhone and snapped a picture, nodding in approval. ‘Perfect. Now you go and have a lovely day. Dad and I are proud of you, sweetheart – you’re such a trooper.’

Clara waved goodbye and hopped from the car. Taking a deep breath, she felt like skipping, but tried to play it cool, scanning the outside of the school for her friends. Spotting some other girls from her class, she strode with purpose in their direction.

As she walked, her thoughts briefly turned to Rosie. She felt a small burst of worry enter her chest. Clara knew that her classmate was still in the hospital – at least that’s what she had heard her mum say. She was a bit worried about Rosie.

They weren’t best friends or anything, but she still really liked her. Rosie was fun, not at all girly and she loved playing dinosaurs with the boys. Clara liked dinosaurs too but her best friends Rachel and Megan didn’t really, so it was nice to have another girl who enjoyed playing with them too.

And she also felt a bit bad for Rosie because her dad died. Clara really couldn’t imagine what that must be like, but guessed it must be a terrible thing. She couldn’t imagine losing her own dad. And now poor Rosie was in the hospital – she had become much sicker with measles than Clara.

That was something else she couldn’t imagine because she had felt like she was going to die while she had them. What must it be like to feel even worse?

Furrowing her brow, Clara decided that she would keep Rosie in her thoughts, but that she wouldn’t let her worries ruin her first day back. Picking up her pace, she felt her spirits buoy once again, especially as she heard the squeals of delight from Rachel and Megan. She ran the final steps to her friends and they all cried out in excitement.

However, the girls’ obvious excitement at being reunited attracted the attention of another classmate they usually tried to avoid.

Kevin Campbell.

The young boy approached the three girls with a scowl on this face. He was flanked on either side by two of his other friends – older boys who liked to be nasty.

Great, more meanies.

‘Who said you could come back to school?’ he sneered. ‘Are you trying to get everyone else sick now?’

Clara turned to look directly at Kevin. She hated having to talk to him, but she knew from experience that ignoring him just made him worse. So she faced him down, like her mum and dad had taught her.

‘Principal Connelly talked to my doctor and my parents. Everyone said I was ready to come back. Just go away. It’s none of your business anyway,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady. She felt Megan stand reassuringly close alongside her.

But this answer didn’t satisfy Kevin.

‘It is my business. I don’t want to get sick because of you. I don’t want my friends to catch your rotten diseases. You know, I heard that Rosie could die. Do you know that if that happens, it will be your fault, Clara? I wonder how old you have to be to go to jail? They might not lock you up for killing her, but they will definitely lock your parents up – and then you and Jake will be put up for adoption or something.’ His friends laughed loudly, which merely served to egg Kevin on. ‘Probably be better that way anyway. My mum says that your parents are stupid and crazy. So it’s good if they do get locked up. I mean, murderers should go to jail – especially ones who kill kids.’

Clara felt a lump grow in her throat. Her mum had told her that Rosie getting sick hadn’t been her fault. But now she wasn’t so sure. What if Rosie did die? She willed herself not to cry, but still a tear leaked from her eye.

Of course, Kevin saw it. ‘Are you going to cry, Clara?’ he guffawed. ‘Well, you probably should. If I were you, I would feel terrible for killing one of my friends.’

‘Shut up, Kevin,’ yelled Rachel, trying to intervene on behalf of her friend. ‘Clara hasn’t killed anyone and Rosie isn’t going to die. Just shut up. You don’t know anything.’

She and Megan began pulling her away in the direction of the classroom. Clara allowed herself to be led – anything to get away.

But regardless of the distance they put between her and the bullies, Kevin’s words still echoed in Clara’s brain.

If Rosie died, would it be her fault?