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‘I don’t think my parents loved each other enough,’ Rhys said. ‘And there were problems before my sister died. I remember them shouting a lot. Especially my dad. But then I remember them telling me I was going to have a little brother or sister and the shouting stopped for a bit after that.’ He swallowed hard. ‘I was so pleased at the thought of being a big brother. Having someone to play with. I had cousins, but we weren’t close—not like you and Maddie. My dad didn’t see much of his family. And I think he was going through a bad time at work. There were a lot of rows, and then suddenly he was home all the time…’ Rhys shook his head. ‘Looking back as an adult, I realise that was probably when the mine closed.’
‘Your dad lost his job?’ Katrina asked.
‘Along with most of the men in the village, so it was pretty rough on everyone. Especially around Christmas, when they were upset at not being able to afford to give their kids the presents they’d wanted to buy and worried about how they were going to manage and where they were going to find work.’ He sighed. ‘And, again, looking back with an adult’s wisdom and knowing what I do now about medicine, all the stress probably sent my mum into labour early.’
‘Very early?’
‘Six weeks.’ He shrugged. ‘And you know as well as I do that’s enough for a baby to be more prone to picking up a respiratory infection—and struggling more with it than a full-term baby. And then I came home from nursery with a really terrible cold.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘Gwynnie picked it up. The doctor said it was just a cold, but she got worse and worse. She couldn’t breathe properly.’
‘RSV?’ Katrina guessed. Respiratory syncytial virus was one that most children had had by school age—and it was practically epidemic at this time of year. In older children and adults it tended to appear as a really heavy cold, but babies often really struggled. As Rhys had explained to Felicity’s brother, the bay where little Felicity was being treated was full of babies who’d tested positive for the virus.
‘Probably,’ he said, his voice still flat. ‘And it turned to pneumonia.’
Just like Felicity’s case. It must have hurt a lot every time he walked into the bay or saw the little girl’s name on the board, bringing back painful memories from his past.
‘The doctor sent her to hospital, but it was too late. She died two days later.’
With premature babies, doctors were taught to err on the side of caution, but clearly it hadn’t happened in Gwyneth’s case. ‘Why on earth didn’t your family doctor send her to hospital earlier?’
‘Think about it. You’re a GP. It’s coming up to Christmas. Everyone in the village has got a stinking cold, half of them think their cold’s so bad that they need antibiotics—even when they don’t—and you’re rushed off your feet because of all the people coming to see you with stress-related symptoms since the mine closed and half the men in the village lost their jobs. That, or they’re coming to you, telling you in private that their husbands are depressed but refuse to come and see you, and asking what you can do to help men who are too proud to admit they need help. You’re swamped and you don’t know which way to turn next. Of course you’re going to miss things.’ He pulled her closer. ‘And that’s what I think happened.’
She shook her head in amazement. ‘You’re incredible, Rhys. If I’d lost Maddie like that…it doesn’t bear thinking about. I don’t think I could ever forgive the doctor.’
‘Understanding isn’t quite the same as forgiving,’ he admitted.
‘And that woman today…In your shoes, I think I would’ve strangled her.’
‘No, you wouldn’t.’ He brushed his mouth against hers, very briefly. ‘Because you’re warm and sweet and nice. And if it wasn’t for you, I probably would’ve lost my temper with her and chucked her bodily off the ward.’
‘What do you mean, if it wasn’t for me?’
‘You taught me the power of a hug,’ he said simply.
She swallowed hard. ‘Oh, Rhys.’
‘I’m just glad you’re in my life.’
She reached up to kiss him. ‘And I’m glad you’re in mine. I know it’s been hard for you, telling me. But I’m glad you did. And I want you to know I’m here for you.’
‘I know. And I appreciate it.’
She stroked his face. ‘So that’s why you chose medicine over music? Why you work stupid hours?’
‘So other families don’t have to go through what mine did, you mean?’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Probably. I know it wasn’t my fault, but I do sometimes wonder, what if? What if she hadn’t caught that virus and died: would things have been different?’
