not fooling anyone.’
He gave her one of his arched-brow expressions as he opened the door to leave. ‘Only yourself, and maybe in the end that is the worst sort of deception of all.’
Allegra sank to the nearest chair as the door closed. She had to prove him wrong, but how?
Tommy Lowe was still in the same comatose state when Allegra finished in Theatre to check on him later that day. His BIS monitor scores showed no brain activity and to make matters worse, his temperature had crept up to 38.5.
Keith Lowe came in while she was massaging Tommy’s feet, using acupressure to release tension in his little body.
‘What are you doing?’ Keith gave her a suspicious look, his whole demeanour seeming on edge as he hovered at the side of his son’s bed.
‘I’m using touch therapy to connect with Tommy,’ she explained. ‘Children usually have very ticklish feet. It’s a way of ramping up the level of sensory input.’
‘None of this is working, is it?’ Keith said after a long, tense moment.
Allegra stilled her massaging movements to look at him. ‘We don’t know that yet. We need more time.’
He gave her a defeated look, before shifting his gaze to the monitors and machines that were keeping his son alive. ‘If I can’t have Tommy back as he was, I don’t want him back at all.’
Allegra stared at him in shock. ‘You surely can’t mean that?’
He met her eyes briefly. ‘You don’t understand,’ he said. ‘There’s life and there’s life.’ He rubbed a hand over his face and continued in a tone that sounded empty and defeated. ‘I told you yesterday about my family background. My parents were not the emotional, nurturing sort.’
‘A lot of parents of your generation weren’t,’ she offered.
He gave her a brief glance and, shifting his gaze, continued in the same flat, emotionless tone. ‘They would have been except for the fact that I had an older sister who was the biggest disappointment of my parents’ life. They took their disappointment out on me. If I let them, they would still be doing it.’
Allegra sat very still, a sudden chill travelling down the length of her spine. ‘What happened?’
‘My older sister had a severe form of autism,’ he said, looking down at his hands. ‘She was diagnosed far too late to do anything to help her. It ruined my parents’ lives, so in a way I can’t really blame them for how they reacted to me. I guess it was a combination of guilt and frustration, which they could hardly take out on her so they chose me instead.’
‘I’m so sorry. It must have been very difficult for you.’
‘Yes … yes, it was …’
‘What about your other sister, Serena?’ she asked gently. ‘Were your parents hard on her as well?’
He met her eyes for a moment before turning away. ‘Yes … yes, it was difficult … for both of us.’ He released a heavy breath and went on, ‘I simply can’t bear the thought of my son having a major disability of any sort. Not after what I’ve been through. I’d would rather he died now.’
‘What eventually happened to your older sister?’
‘She died of pneumonia at the age of sixteen,’ he said. ‘I can still see the relief on my parents’ faces. I can’t help thinking they paid the doctor not to treat her appropriately.’
Allegra felt an upswell of emotion fill her chest until she could hardly breathe with comfort. ‘Tommy might not have any form of brain damage at all,’ she said, dredging up the last of her hope to convince herself, even as she wanted to convince Tommy’s father.
Keith turned to look at her. ‘It’s a risk I can’t afford to take. Not after what I’ve been through with my sister and my parents. I personally witnessed the damage of what a needy child can do.’ He looked down at his hands once more. ‘I’m in a new relationship. My … partner would never cope with Tommy if he was … damaged in any way.’
‘Don’t rush into this,’ Allegra pleaded. ‘Tommy is a child with his whole life ahead of him.’
‘But what sort of life are we talking about?’
Allegra tried not to be put off by the similarity to Joel’s words the night before. ‘Tommy could make a full recovery. I really believe that,’ she said, mentally crossing her fingers.
‘That’s not what the neurosurgeon intimated,’ he said.
‘Mr Pardle is a brilliant neurosurgeon, but over the course of his long career he has seen too much to be able to offer hope in cases like this. He’s lost children of Tommy’s age and condition before and, believe me, it takes its toll, but that’s not to say Tommy can’t prove everyone wrong.’
Keith got to his feet, his movements slow and tired as if he’d reached the very end of his tether. ‘I don’t really care what happens with my wife but I want my son to die with dignity. I don’t want him to suffer for months on end. I would like his life to count for something.’ He scraped a hand through his hair, which did nothing to bring any sort of order to its already haphazard arrangement on his head before he continued, ‘Tommy and I discussed this once not that long ago. When the time comes, I want his organs to be donated to give life to others. It’s what he would have wanted.’
‘You don’t have to decide anything like that at this stage,’ she said. ‘There’s still a chance he will wake up.’
‘It’s a slim chance, though, isn’t it?’ he asked, for once meeting her gaze directly.
She rolled her lips together, searching for a moment for the right words to say to offer him hope. ‘It’s slim but not impossible.’
‘You’re the only one who thinks it’s possible. Everyone else I’ve spoken to has given me a thin slice of hope tempered with the reality of a life blighted by impairment.’
‘It might not be anything like that …’
‘I can’t take the risk,’ he said, ‘For Tommy’s sake.’ He looked down at the small frail figure lying connected to the numerous machines hissing and groaning and pumping in the background, each one keeping the child’s life suspended in an indefinable place that had no real future and a past that was all too short.
Seven years.
It had taken Allegra longer to get her qualifications.
‘I may not be a great father, according to the rules of the current times, but one thing I know for certain is that Tommy wouldn’t want to live half a life,’ Keith said. ‘I would be an even worse father to stand by and let his life be reduced to that.’
‘Please, give me some time with him,’ she begged. ‘No matter what the other specialists say, please, don’t give up until I’ve exhausted every possible avenue. Please, Mr Lowe … Keith … He’s your son, your only child. Surely you owe him this one last chance at life?’
Tears sprang into Keith’s eyes and he brushed at them impatiently, clearly embarrassed by this momentary lapse. ‘I’m not sure I can do this … It’s too risky …’
‘What about your sister?’ she asked. ‘Would she be willing to help me? I can’t always do this on my own, I often have to rely on relatives to pitch in.’
His eyes shifted away again. ‘I’m not sure my sister is the right person …’
‘But your wife asked for her several times during the night,’ Allegra informed him.
He looked across at her, surprise evident in his expression. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I heard it from one of the nurses and then I heard it myself when I was in her room. She definitely said your sister’s name as well