‘Good. So it’s all down to Dr Dunbar. If he plays ball we’ll expect her on Friday, barring any unforeseen complications.’
‘On Friday, and thanks again. I’m sure I speak for everyone concerned when I say we’re all very grateful.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Turner put the phone down and looked at the number on the paper in front of him. One more hurdle, just one more. A bloody government official! But at least he was a doctor. He couldn’t decide whether that was good or bad. He picked up the phone and dialled the number.
‘I’d like to speak to Dr Steven Dunbar, please.’
The call was answered at the first ring.
‘Dr Dunbar? My name is Clive Turner. I’m a doctor in the renal unit at Glasgow’s Children’s Hospital.’
‘What can I do for you, Doctor?’
Turner went through Amanda Chapman’s case history and how her chances of survival were slim, if she didn’t at least become stable on dialysis soon, and perhaps negligible in the long run, if she didn’t receive a transplant.
‘I see.’
‘Dr Ross has agreed to take Amanda on in his unit as a free NHS referral and Dr Kinscherf and Mr Giordano have also agreed, but they referred me to you as the final arbiter.’
‘I see,’ replied Dunbar. He was totally unprepared for something like this. He’d received no warning but could understand why not. It would be much easier for him to turn down a request from the hospital authorities. Hearing it from Turner was almost as effective as hearing it from the child’s parents. He now had a dilemma. If he was who he was supposed to be, he should certainly be objecting on the grounds of cost, but he wasn’t. He, as a person, thought the kid should have every chance that was open to her. ‘It’s all right by me, Dr Turner,’ he said.
‘You’re serious?’ Turner spluttered, taken off guard. He had been preparing himself for a long desperate argument.
‘I wish her well,’ said Dunbar.
‘I can’t thank you enough. I’ll never hear another word against civil servants.’
‘Then it’s all been worth while,’ said Dunbar with a smile and put down the phone.
Turner was delighted. This was wonderful news and couldn’t have come at a better time. Amanda Chapman was not doing well. Continual dialysis was taking its toll on her youthful resilience and she was beginning to weaken mentally. Once that started, there was a real chance that she would go into a downward spiral and the end would come quickly.
The patient’s mental state was often underrated in serious illness. A strong, positive attitude — the will to live — was often the difference between life and death in Turner’s experience. He’d seen kids put up such a fight that it brought tears to his eyes when they eventually lost. He’d also seen children drift away seemingly without so much as a backward glance. Amanda was coming to crisis point. It could go either way.
Her illness had taken its toll on her parents too. He had seen stress and tiredness affect them both more and more over the past few weeks. They had aged visibly. He found their phone number from Amanda’s admission card and called it.
A woman’s voice said, ‘Yes?’
‘Kate? It’s Clive Turner at Amanda’s hospital in Glasgow.’
‘Has something happened? What’s wrong? It’s Amanda, she’s-’
‘It’s nothing awful, Kate, I assure you,’ Turner interrupted. ‘Far from it. I’ve just had a call from the Medic Ecosse Hospital. They’ve agreed to take Amanda on as a patient.’
‘They have? Oh my God, that’s wonderful! We’ve been so worried about her. I was just saying to Sandy last night that she’s been getting weaker over the past few days.’
‘I think that might well change when Medic Ecosse put her on their dialysis machinery,’ said Turner. ‘No one can promise anything but it’s my guess she’s going to do a whole lot better. If they do manage to stabilize her, it will be back to waiting and hoping for a kidney to become available, but at least she’ll have more time.’
Turner heard Kate start to sob at the other end of the line. ‘I know,’ he soothed. ‘This kind of worry eats away at you until you are under so much tension that it takes over your entire life and you don’t even realize it until you suddenly burst into tears.’
‘That’s it exactly,’ said Kate, regaining her composure. ‘I can’t thank you enough, Clive. You were the one who thought of this in the first place.’
‘It was just by chance I’d seen the circular from the Scottish Office that morning.’
‘When will she be moved?’
‘Friday, if everyone’s agreeable.’
‘The sooner the better,’ said Kate. ‘I can’t wait to tell Sandy. He’s on duty tonight.’
‘I’ll let you do just that then,’ said Turner. ‘Give me a call tomorrow and we can finalize the arrangements.’
Kate put the phone down and sank into a chair. It was as if all strength had left her. She cradled her head in her hands for a few moments, staring down at the floor. Please God, this would be the turning-point in their nightmare. From now on things would start to get better. They’d get back to being the happy family they’d been before all this happened. Laughter would return to their lives. Feeling suddenly more resolute, she picked up the phone again and called Sandy.
The rain on Friday morning could do nothing to dampen the optimism that filled the Chapman home in the wake of Clive Turner’s phone call. The silent and preoccupied looking out of the window at breakfast time, which had been the norm for the past few weeks, was now a thing of the past. Smiles and animated conversation were the order of the day. This was the lucky break they had both been praying for. They would still have to wait for a suitable organ to become available for Amanda but for some reason they now both felt sure it would. They had come to a turning-point in the nightmare.
‘What time did you say we’re supposed to be there?’ asked Sandy as he got up from the table to fetch the coffee pot from the hob.
‘Clive said if we’re there about two we can take her over ourselves. That would be nicer than travelling in an ambulance, don’t you think?’
‘Absolutely,’ agreed Sandy. ‘The three of us together again.’ He gave Kate’s shoulder a squeeze as he returned to his seat and re-filled their cups.
‘Shall I make more toast?’
Sandy shook his head. ‘Let’s stop off on the way up to Glasgow for a pub lunch somewhere. What d’you say?’
‘Sounds good,’ agreed Kate. ‘It’s ages since we did anything like that.’
The good mood persisted throughout the journey. The lunch they had at a roadhouse just off the main dual carriageway wasn’t wonderful but it was adequate, and the fact that they were doing something socially together seemed more important than the ordinariness of the fare. Apart from that, it gave them the chance to joke about Scottish culinary skills.
They had the usual problem in finding somewhere to park when they reached the hospital, but today it didn’t seem important. Sandy didn’t seize on it, as he usually did, as an excuse to vent pent-up emotion as anger.
Clive Turner saw them as they entered the ward and gestured to them to come into the office first.
‘How is she?’ asked Sandy.
‘She’s fine,’ replied Turner. ‘She came off dialysis an hour ago so she’ll be okay for a wee while yet.’
‘Plenty of time to get over to Medic Ecosse?’ said Kate.
‘Oh, more than that,’ replied Turner. ‘She’ll be stable for several hours. You can take her for a drive around if you like. Spend some time together. Be a family again.’
‘Do you think she’s up to it?’ asked Kate.
‘She’s tired of course, but I think she’d like to see something other than hospital walls for a while. She’s not up to doing anything strenuous but a bit of visual stimulation will do her nothing but good.’
‘Won’t Medic Ecosse be expecting us?’ asked Sandy.
‘I spoke to them earlier. They’re aware of the situation. Any time before six suits them.’
‘That was very kind,’ said Kate. ‘We owe you a lot.’
