‘If the lower end of the spinal cord is damaged that causes paralysis,’ the doctor replies.
‘What are the stats?’ he continues, the journalist coming out in him. ‘There are no guarantees this will work, are there?’
‘Let me stress, this isn’t an experimental procedure. It’s been around in this country for over twenty years and I’ve had terrific success.’
‘But you still can’t guarantee…’
‘Dan!’ I urge. ‘Leave it.’
After our meeting I ask Granny if she can take Isla to the canteen. I beg her with my eyes to take my daughter away.
Alone with Dan he says sheepishly, ‘What?’ but I know he knows.
I hit him. I hit him across the cheek with all the strength I have.
Dan clutches one side of his face as I say, ‘You need to respect that I have made the decision.’
‘But if it goes wrong…’
‘You have no right to question me.’
‘I’m sorry, listen, I’m sorry. I just want us to be fully informed.’
‘There is no “us”. You can’t sweep in overnight and have a say, Dan, father or not. Don’t you get that? If it goes wrong I will never forgive myself, but if I do nothing, then what? I can’t sit and watch my daughter,mydaughter, struggle anymore. Nearly four years, Dan. You’ve known Isla forthree days. If you can’t support us, walk away now and don’t come back.’
I’m glad yesterday is behind us. It was an exhausting day for my girl with all the endless physiotherapy assessments and appointments with the anaesthetist. Isla now knows something is up, that we’re not exactly on a seaside holiday. She loved playing games with Molly, the hospital dog, but the moment the word ‘physio’ was mentioned again, she’d withdraw into herself.
It’s now 7 a.m., the day of the operation. Isla is in her hospital gown. She’s had her medication to make her sleepy. This is it, I think, carrying her to the doors of the operating theatre still pretending it’s all one big adventure when dread clenches my stomach. Dan is by my side. I sense he wants to reach out and touch her. Granny walks a few steps behind us, carrying Isla’s favourite teddy and her pink heart fleece cushion. When a woman in a blue gown approaches me, I kiss Isla again and again until reluctantly I have to let go. Dan is pushed aside as Granny holds me. Isla looks at us all with such trust in her eyes before she is taken away.
I wave, fighting with all my strength not to rush after them and snatch her back. If this does go wrong and Isla never walks again, will she hate me? She’s so little. Despite all the reassurances the hospital team has given, what if Isla is the one case that goes wrong? The doctors and nurses in their coats walk past the lifts and through the double doors. When they are out of sight Granny hands me a tissue. Dan touches my arm. I pull away from him, running the opposite way down the corridor, needing to be on my own.
Twenty minutes later, I’m about to head into the small room where we are to sit and chew our nails waiting for updates. I stop outside the door when I overhear Granny and Dan talking.
‘I won’t disappear again,’ Dan says. ‘She’s my daughter.’
‘You never wanted this child, so what’s changed?’
‘I’ve grown up.’
‘Well done you. January had to grow up years ago.’
‘What I did – I was selfish back then. I wanted my career more. I’d won a place on one of the best journalism courses.’
‘In New York. She told me. So off you skipped.’
‘I’m – I’m not proud of myself, OK? I was scared.’
‘It was always about you, wasn’t it? When my daughter died my husband and I looked after Jan and her brother, Lucas. We wereterrified,we were grieving, but we knew we had to face up to our responsibilities. I don’t regret it, Dan. Being such a big part of Jan’s life has been a blessing and I love my grandchildren and Isla, with all my heart. These are the things you do for love, Dan, and I’d do them all over again if I had to. You don’t run and hide when the going gets tough or when things don’t suit you.’
There’s a long silence, then Dan eventually says, ‘I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through and I understand why you hate me. I was weak.’
Granny grunts. ‘Why should I believe a word you’ve said?’
‘Last year my older brother had a cancer scare. He was lucky enough to survive but, well, it taught me something, that none of us knows what’s round the corner so it shouldn’t all be about work, earning cash and climbing the career ladder. It’s about people. I have a daughter.’ He sounds tearful now. ‘When I left Jan, I made myself believe she wouldn’t go through with it. I forced myself to think there was no child. But when I saw Isla’s face, when she smiled at me… I understand why you’re protective.’
‘Protective? I’ddiefor that girl and for Isla. January has had enough hurt and pain in her life, enough disappointment. I swear, Dan, if you hurt her again—’
‘I won’t. You have my word. I’m home now. I’ve got interviews lined up with papers. I’ll get a decent job. I want to support them. I’ll pay Lucas back for helping us. I swear on my life I won’t let you down again.’
