Chapter 20
‘I’ve changed my mind about having him tested.’ Maisie darted an anxious glance at Bridget, who was standing in the doorway with her arms folded, watching like a hawk as Zoe weighed Ezra.
She hadn’t wanted to say so, but Zoe was more convinced than ever that there was a problem. It was information that she couldn’t be certain about because she wasn’t the expert, and it was probably better coming from the experts anyway, who would be able to follow it up with appropriate care.
‘Even without my referral to the specialist, Ezra will be having a hearing screen as part of his regular checks, and if a problem is picked up then, the result will be the same. The hospital department will refer him for further investigations. You might as well get it over and done with now – the sooner, the better.’
Maisie glanced at Bridget again. ‘The thing is… well, I don’t think he needs the tests. He’s probably deaf, so what’s the point?’
‘All the more reason to go, surely? If he is, we don’t know the extent, whether he can be helped and what sort of assistance can be put into place. As well as medical, you might be able to get financial assistance. You must see how valuable that would be with a disabled child.’
‘Disabled?’ Maisie seemed suddenly alarmed. Perhaps she hadn’t thought of her son’s problems in such stark terms before.
‘What kind of money?’ Bridget asked.
‘It’s not for me to say,’ Zoe replied briskly.
Ezra was crying now as she placed him on the scales, and she did her best to hush him rather than look at Bridget’s face.
She knew she wouldn’t like what she saw there, and her own mood was already more unpredictable than she was happy about.
‘But there will be help, benefits and such. It seems silly not to take advantage of that… to help care for him, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Bridget said. ‘You’re right – it does seem daft not to take money if it’s offered. I mean, we might as well get something.’
‘You mean Maisie and Ezra might as well get something…’ Zoe looked from one to the other.
She hadn’t been given an opportunity to ask, but she wondered if Maisie had come close to telling her mum she planned to move out as soon as her council house was ready.
It didn’t seem that way, but Zoe hoped that the young woman wouldn’t change her mind about that too.
She didn’t much like the hold Bridget had over her daughter; the woman wasn’t a particularly good role model, but so far Maisie, by some miracle, had avoided becoming like her mum, and Zoe hoped it would stay that way.
‘After all, if there is a problem, they might need it.’
‘That’s what I meant,’ Bridget snapped. ‘What are you trying to say?’
‘I’m not trying to say anything.’
‘It’s me who has to put up with all this. You don’t live here, up and down all hours of the day and night.’
‘I know—’
‘Mum, I’m sure Zoe didn’t mean—’
‘I know what she meant,’ Bridget cut in. ‘She reckons we’re scum. Always has done.’
‘Mum!’
‘Bridget!’ Zoe raised her voice as Ezra’s crying grew louder and more insistent.
‘Please, I don’t want to be at odds with you!
My main concern is Maisie and Ezra, and I know yours is too.
We might differ on our opinions of how to achieve it, but we both want them to be safe and well.
’ She paused, watching Bridget search for an answer, before adding, ‘Why didn’t you want Maisie to take Ezra to the hospital for the tests?
Because if there’s an issue getting there, I can arrange transport for you. ’
‘She said I couldn’t have anyone coming here,’ Maisie said.
Bridget glared at her but then seemed to decide there was no point in denying it.
‘People come in here and they judge… like you. Some people might decide this place isn’t good enough for Ezra. It is. It was good enough to bring Maisie up, and it’s going to be good enough for him.’
‘They wouldn’t be coming here,’ Zoe said. ‘You’d be going to Outpatients.’
‘What if they see something they don’t like and they decide to send someone? It happens.’
‘What makes you think they’d see something they don’t like?’ Zoe asked slowly.
Bridget threw her hands into the air. ‘I don’t know! Ezra’s romper isn’t clean enough or something. It doesn’t take much to make these social services types foam at the mouth, does it?’
Zoe tried to smile, though it was taking a lot of energy.
‘When I look at Ezra, I see a well-cared-for, well-loved little boy. I’m sure that’s all anyone will see.
The staff at the unit will only have his best interests at heart.
They know what they’re doing, and they’re best placed to give him what he needs, should he need it.
I can’t force you to go, but I strongly recommend it. ’
Bridget said nothing more. She turned and left the room. Zoe wondered whether she’d managed to get through and Bridget was simply too stubborn to admit it. She hoped so.
‘Someone tried to take me away when I was little,’ Maisie said into the silence. ‘It was all right in the end, but Mum gets really upset when she thinks about it. I suppose…’ She lowered her voice. ‘I suppose that’s why I haven’t told her.’
Zoe lowered her tone to match Maisie’s. ‘About Fern? You’ll have to, sooner or later. Unless you’ve changed your mind?’
‘No, I haven’t, but… she’ll be so angry.’
‘Won’t she be sad more than angry?’ Zoe asked.
‘I suppose,’ Maisie said, looking down at Ezra, who’d thankfully stopped crying and was now drifting off to sleep in her arms. ‘She’ll shout either way. I don’t know what she’ll do when I’m gone.’
‘I’m sure she doesn’t either. Every mother knows their child will leave home one day. It’s sad, but it’s a fact of life. It’s how things are meant to be.’
‘I know.’
‘When’s your appointment?’
‘Next week. Thursday, I think – I’ve got the letter upstairs in my room.’
‘Would you like me to take you? Billie could come for moral support.’
Maisie hesitated and then shook her head. ‘I’d better ask Mum to come with me. We can get the bus. She doesn’t mean to be awkward, you know; it’s just how she is.’
‘I know,’ Zoe said, her smile of reassurance coming easier now. ‘Is there anything else you need to talk to me about before I go?’
‘I don’t think so. Ezra’s OK? He’s put enough weight on?’
‘He’s doing brilliantly.’ Zoe put a hand on Maisie’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘As are you. I’m so proud to see how far you’ve come since I first met you.’
As soon as she’d said it, Zoe wondered if her praise had sounded patronising. Billie would have said so, though Zoe certainly didn’t mean it to be.
Maisie simply beamed. ‘Thanks.’
Zoe called a farewell to Bridget as she stepped out of the front door, though she received no reply. Somewhere in the house, she was sulking – or perhaps reflecting on things that had been said. Whichever it was, Zoe hoped the outcome would be a good one, the best one for all of them.
Zoe arrived back at the surgery with half an hour to spare before lunch.
After a quick clear-out of her files, she wondered if she ought to text Alex to see how things were there.
But she wasn’t sure how they stood, despite them both doing their best to move on from the difficult conversations they’d had during the weekend.
What could she say that wouldn’t sound as if she doubted him?
But was she right to doubt him? Should she address that there might still be problems, or would doing that revive problems they’d already put to bed?
Her fingers were hovering over the keyboard when there was a knock on the door.
‘I’m free,’ she called. ‘Come on in.’
Shabana gave a nervous smile as she stepped in and closed the door. ‘I don’t suppose I can ask you about something?’
‘Of course you can… What’s troubling you?’
‘It’s this virus that everyone is catching.
I know it’s mostly a short-lived thing, but it won’t harm the baby if I catch it, will it?
I’ve seen so many patients this week who’ve had it or had someone in their household with it, I just know I’m going to get it at some point too, and I’m worried it will—’
Zoe gestured for Shabana to take a seat.
‘What you’ve been through to get pregnant, it’s natural you’re going to be cautious.
Honestly, I want to say it will be all right, but as you know, there are plenty of viruses that we don’t know much about.
I’d err on the side of optimism in this case.
Billie, Louisa and Alex have all had it, and they weren’t too ill.
More than that, they shook it off pretty quickly and there don’t seem to be any lasting effects, so that’s encouraging.
’ She paused to offer Shabana her most reassuring smile.
‘I’m here, and if you have any concerns, you only have to knock on my door. Do you feel all right at the moment?’
‘Yes. Probably better than I thought I would in early pregnancy. I haven’t been sick or anything. I can’t say I like it – I wish I would be sick.’
‘I know a few women who would think you’re mad if they heard you say that.’
‘I know, but I’m having a hard time believing I am actually pregnant because I don’t feel it. I read somewhere that your pregnancy is stronger if you are sick.’
‘Don’t believe half of what you read online,’ Zoe said. ‘There’s no actual hard evidence of that being true.’
‘But you know about it?’
‘I’ve heard it said, yes. I prefer to treat each pregnancy as its own special case rather than trying to classify one type as better than another. I’ve got a mum who’s been hospitalised because she couldn’t stop being sick, so I’m not sure she’d agree that her pregnancy is stronger for it.’
‘I suppose you’re right. I’m so desperate for this to work I’m scared of my own shadow right now.’
‘I don’t blame you. I meant what I said: come to me if anything at all is worrying you. Like now – I’m glad you’ve asked me about this.’
‘Me too. I feel better for having talked about my worries. I suppose that was all I needed.’
Zoe considered Shabana’s remark for a moment.
If only she herself was as good at taking advice as she was at offering it, she might already have shared her problems with a willing listener and she might already feel better about them.
For a split second, she considered the possibility that Shabana might, unexpectedly, be the person to confide in.
But she quickly dismissed the idea. They were becoming friends, but they were hardly familiar with one another.
It didn’t seem professional, and it certainly didn’t seem fair to burden Shabana when she had worries of her own.
Shabana got up. ‘Are you coming for lunch?’
‘I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.’
Zoe watched her leave, the office plunged into a humming silence once more.
Then she got out her phone and drafted the message she’d tussled over.
If it prompted a discussion they needed, it would force her to have it.
And so she gave herself a mental slap, forced herself to stop overthinking it and then hit send.
Nothing to fret about, but later we need to talk. Don’t let me off the hook even if I say I’ve changed my mind. x
With the die cast, she collected her things and went to join the others in the kitchen.