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Chapter Twenty Five
Brooke tore her eyesfrom the door of the waiting room and looked across at Ian. He was reading the letter again. He’d read it at least five times since they’d been waiting. He hadn’t questioned her. He’d somehow known that she couldn’t think about the letter and worry about Max at the same time. The car journey had been quiet. Not awkward, but a comfortable silence whilst they’d both been lost in their own thoughts.
She watched as he stroked his chin, his eyes darting from left to right as he read. The door creaked open, and she jerked her head, immediately standing up as the surgeon walked through the door.
‘Is he okay? Is Max okay?’ Wringing her hands in front of her, she felt Ian’s hand on her arm, strong and reassuring.
The surgeon smiled. ‘He’s fine. We’ve had to remove his spleen, but he should make a full recovery.’
Sinking to her chair, Brooke buried her head in her hands and sobbed. ‘Thank you. Thank you.’
‘Can we go and pop our heads through? Let him know we’re here?’ Ian’s voice was calm, quiet, in control.
‘Not yet, I’m afraid. He’s still coming round from the anaesthetic, but I’ll ask someone to come and fetch you when he’s awake.’
‘Thank you.’ Ian shook the surgeon’s hand before sitting back down.
‘He’s okay. He’s definitely okay?’ Wiping her eyes, she looked across at him.
‘He’s okay, love. Max is going to be okay.’
Taking a deep breath, Brooke nodded. He was going to be fine. If anything had happened to him... Brooke shuddered. According to Ollie, he’d been driving back to see her. It would have been her fault.
‘Now, about this letter...’ Ian held it up in front of him.
She met his eyes, her mum’s eyes. ‘It’s true, isn’t it? I didn’t think it was. I didn’t want to believe it, but your eyes...’
‘My eyes?’ Ian frowned.
‘They’re the same as my mum’s.’
Nodding slowly, Ian sniffed. ‘What was her name?’
Brooke could see his eyes glistening with tears. ‘Heather.’
‘My mum’s name.’ Pulling a red and white checked handkerchief from his trouser pocket, he wiped his eyes. ‘I wish Nancy had told me. I wish I’d known her.’
‘I wish you had too. She passed away when I was a baby, so I only know what my grandparents told me about her.’ She swallowed. ‘I mean, my adopted grandparents. I don’t know what I mean anymore.’
Standing up, Ian walked across the room and indicated the chair next to her. ‘May I?’
She nodded.
Sitting down, he placed his hand on her shoulder. ‘They’ll always be your grandparents. They were the ones who brought you up, who raised you into the young woman you are today.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ She watched as he folded the letter and slipped it into his shirt pocket. ‘What now then?’
‘Now, I’d be honoured if you gave me the chance to get to know you. One day, maybe you’d even feel comfortable enough to call me Grampy, but until then Ian will do.’
She looked into his eyes. There was so much he’d missed out on. So much her mum had missed out on. So much she’d missed out on, but she could understand why her grandparents had done what they did. She understood the way the secret must have snowballed. They’d missed out, too. They must have been gripped by guilt, by knowing they were keeping something from their daughter, from Brooke. Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes, letting the tears she’d been holding in run down her cheeks.
‘Oh, Brooke, love.’ Ian rubbed her shoulder.
‘I’m sorry. It’s just...’ She waved her arm around, encompassing the letter, the hospital. ‘...everything. Everything is just...’
‘Overwhelming?’
