“Where will you go?” asked Jim, “Where do you fancy?”
“I dunno. My only real ties in life are Tasha, Pip and Grandma and Gramps and you all live on opposite sides of the Atlantic so I could go anywhere I suppose. Maybe Europe or Australia for a while. I know I need visas and I wouldn't be able to work right off but I have some savings and Jim offered me some money a while back so I could see where I fancy trying out and take it from there.”
“What about L.A.?” Jim startled Tasha so much with his question, suggestion that she physically jumped, waking Connor abruptly, distressing him once more.
“What about it?” asked Dan, nervous that he might be misunderstanding the offer he perceived was being made.
Laughing, Jim expanded, “I’m offering you a chance in LA. Come and stay with us for a while. I know a few people I can introduce you to, chefs. See if it's what you want and if it is there are schools in L.A. you could go to, or New York. I can have my legal people look at residency issues.”
Everyone was staring at Jim now as Tasha got to her feet in an attempt to soothe her son.
“It's just an offer, Dan, and if you don't want to accept it, that's fine. I won’t be offended, oh, and if the idea of living with me and Tasha doesn't appeal then there's plenty of room over at the stables where Trav’ lives.”
“Thank you.” Dan felt truly humbled that his brother-in-law would make such an offer, especially after his actions had endangered Tasha. Before he could say anymore Connor projectile vomited across the room.
It was three o'clock the following morning before Tasha managed to close her eyes, having changed Connor countless times and nursed him until he was asleep, but this was the first time he'd allowed her to put him down in his cot.
“We'll find a doctor when it's daytime,” said Jim as she finally lay down next to him. “I think it’s a nasty bug he’s picked up. If he gets any worse we’ll take him to the hospital.”
“I hadn't realised that a body so small could actually produce that much waste.” Tasha’s disbelieving shake of her head made Jim laugh.
“Oh yeah. From both ends too.”
They curled into each other and as sleep washed over them both Connor began to cry, but it was a different cry, one Tasha didn't even recognise as belonging to her baby with its high pitch and pained tone. Leaping up, she switched on the light and ran to where her baby lay before unnecessarily calling, “James,” as he was already standing next to her.
Picking her son up, Tasha began to cry at how limp he appeared to be and it was as she cradled him that she noticed the swelling to the top of his head where his fontanel was swollen and dome like.
“Tasha, I need you to stay calm, but I'm going to call nine, one, one.”
“Nine, nine, nine,” Tasha corrected between sobs as Jim called for an ambulance and explained to the operator what was wrong.
He was unsure what the address was so with Tasha beginning to panic he found himself knocking on Paul and Celia's bedroom door where Paul took the phone from Jim and sent him back to his wife and son.
“Tasha, the ambulance is on the way, but you need to put some clothes on,” he said looking down at her wearing one of his t-shirts, “Now!” he said firmly, startling her into action as he took their son, as frightened as she was when he gazed down at the little boy who meant everything to them and was clearly unwell.
****
Less than half an hour later, Connor had been admitted to hospital and a frightened Tasha had answered what felt like a million and one questions about her son while the medical staff worked on him. They took bloods, inserted drips and talked in a language Tasha didn't understand in a place where seconds lasted minutes and minutes lasted hours.
Eventually, a doctor came to speak to Jim and Tasha. “Connor's stable, but he is dehydrated and we think he has some kind of infection. We're running tests to establish what the infection might be. We've sedated him and he has a drip to keep him hydrated and he has a couple of other lines in for medication and as a precaution.”
“What sort of precaution?” asked Jim.
“In the event that we need to operate or if his condition worsens.” The doctor’s explanation was interrupted by Tasha's crying.
“He'll be okay though, he won’t die, will he?” she asked in broken sobs as Jim pulled her closer.
“Mrs Maybury, we will do everything we can to make sure Connor makes a recovery but I can't give you guarantees and your son is a very poorly little boy. We'll get him up on ICU as soon as we can, but you can both stay with him.”
Connor was quickly moved to ICU and although she was exhausted, Tasha found it impossible to sleep. A different doctor was responsible for her son's care and while she had no objection to the new doctor, Jim found it frustrating. He left his wife and son alone to phone Lenny to get his opinion and was reassured that the doctors were following the same protocol as Lenny was suggesting.
Tasha was sitting at her son's bedside when a message came through on her phone and with a sigh she looked down to see a reply to her earlier message to Lizzie
Tasha stared down at the message and wondered whether she should reply, but to say what? Other than Lenny and presumably Sara, nobody knew Connor was sick. She and Jim had decided to keep it to themselves until they knew properly what was wrong and they'd been given a prognosis so she couldn't say anything about Connor. She had no clue what she could say to reassure either of the girls about the upcoming termination. Suddenly, she wondered whether Connor being ill was some kind of punishment for her. For not being more understanding about what Lizzie had done, for not offering more help and support to her and Danielle when they'd needed it. Danielle was going to lose her baby that day and Tasha suddenly wondered if she was too.
Chapter 33
