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‘What’s going on, Hailey?’ Luca asked gently.
‘I think he might be…’ she looked at Tom, not paying any attention to the adults. ‘R. E. L. A. P. S. I. N. G. He needs a full blood work-up.’
Luca looked at Rilla again. ‘I think we’d need Callum’s permission to go ahead and do that.’
The curtain opened abruptly, making a harsh scraping noise. ‘Tom!’
‘Daddy!’ Tom jumped up from his reclining position, running along the length of the gurney and throwing himself into his father’s arms.
A breathless Callum hugged him tight, relieved to see that there didn’t seem to be too much wrong with him at all. Hailey’s message had scared the hell out of him and a dozen worst case scenarios had stormed through his mind as he had run down the fire escape two stairs at a time and bolted to Emergency.
‘Daddy, you’re squeezing me.’ Tom giggled.
Callum relaxed his grip a little and kissed his son’s forehead. ‘What’s going on here?’ Callum demanded. Hailey looked wild-eyed, her hands twisting together, opening her mouth to say something and then stopping again.
Rilla jumped in. ‘Hailey was a bit concerned that Tom was coming down with something.’
‘He has a fever, Callum,’ Hailey said, her voice tense with worry. ‘He vomited. He has a fever. There’s bruising on his legs.’
Callum’s pulse accelerated as her poorly leashed panic started to infect him. He knew what she was saying. He tightened his arms around Tom again, ignoring his protests as he inspected his son’s legs. He sighed. ‘Those bruises are from yesterday, Hailey.’ He hugged Tom some more. ‘What’s his temp?’ he asked Rilla.
‘Thirty-seven five.’
Callum felt relief flood his system, his heart banging so loudly he thought his chest was about to explode. He looked at Hailey and wanted to wring her neck for frightening him so much.
‘Hailey.’ He looked at her over Tom’s head the anxiety creasing her brow obvious. He sighed. ‘You scared the hell out of me.’
Hailey blinked at the anxiety in his voice. She hadn’t meant to. Tom was sick, she’d had to get him to hospital.
Rilla looked from Callum to Hailey. They obviously needed to talk. ‘Tom, why don’t Luca, you and I go and find you a sticker?’ Rilla suggested. ‘We have some around here somewhere.’
‘Yay! I love ’tickers,’ Tom said eagerly, scrambling down from his father’s almost constrictive embrace, blissfully unaware of the tension in the cubicle. He took Rilla’s hand eagerly.
‘Go easy,’ Rilla said quietly to Callum, nailing him with a fierce look before flicking the curtains aside and letting an eager Tom pull her along, chatting happily about stickers and the picnic.
Callum watched them go, encouraged by his son’s bright chatter and his energetic skipping. Rilla’s words turned over in his head.
‘Are you sure Tom…?’
‘He’s fine,’ Callum said gently, turning back to face her.
Hailey felt tears well in her eyes as his quiet insistence ripped through her anxiety. Her panic started to recede, the awful sense of déjà vu, holding her in its clutches, released her. Rilla, Luca and Callum weren’t concerned. No one seemed worried. She could hear Tom’s bright laughter and started to realise what she’d done.
‘I’m sorry, I just thought…He vomited and was really floppy and…’
Callum covered the distance between them and crouched down in front of the chair she was sitting on. ‘He had enough sugar to run a rum distillery,’ he said patiently.
Hailey nodded, the lump in her throat getting bigger by the second. Sugar and merry-go-rounds didn’t mix. The bruises were old. She’d made a terrible mistake. ‘Of course…I…’
He rubbed his neck. She was looking so mortified. So isolated. He put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. She’d given herself a huge fright too and his instincts told him she needed comfort, not a reprimand.
‘I’m sorry, Callum,’ she said into his neck. ‘You have every right to be angry with me.’
Callum pulled back slightly. ‘I’m not angry with you. You did frighten the life out of me, though,’ Callum said, running his hand over the stubble of his hair. ‘I understand where this is coming from, Hailey, I do, but I get enough of this kind of panic from Annie’s parents.’
Hailey nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms as he spoke, a gesture she found immeasurably comforting.
‘I’m on tenterhooks every day as it is. I have nightmares about him relapsing. I…’ He looked around for the right word and decided the English language didn’t possess one that could do any justice to his overwhelming feelings of impotency. ‘I hate how out of control of all this I am. But I’m trying to give him a normal life. He’s not Eric, Hailey.’
