18
Patrick sat outside the counselor’s office. He’d been poked and prodded and had countless scans and x-rays. All he could think of was Elle and Abbie. Now he knew the truth, he wanted to be a part of their lives. Abbie’s life definitely, but would she want a father who suddenly appeared out of nowhere?
Would he be any good as a father? He didn’t know the first thing about raising a child, let alone a young teen. Sure he could interrogate any boyfriend she might have in the future, but what good would he be otherwise? Actually thinking about it, Abbie might never have a boyfriend once word got out her father was armed at all times. Not to mention being a crack shot.
“Mr. Page?”
He glanced up. “Yes.”
“Come on in.”
He rose and followed the woman into the office.
“Take a seat. My name is Corrine Downton. This is Betty Willis, the transplant coordinator and John Brown, consultant surgeon. It’s our job to make sure you understand the risks involved and answer any questions you may have.”
“OK.” He settled uneasily into the plastic chair and crossed his right ankle over his left knee. “I’m assuming that means I’m a match?”
The surgeon looked at him. “Physically you’re a perfect match. There are no indications as to why surgery can’t go ahead.”
“Good. Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”
“Being a live donor isn’t as easy as it sounds. It’s major surgery for you as well as for Abbie.”
“I know that.” From the corner of his eye, he could see the counselor scrutinizing his every movement and word. He relaxed his hands, calling on the interrogation aversion techniques he’d had drummed into him. He could do this. It wasn’t as if he was being tortured with buckets of water and electric cables or being beaten whilst blindfolded, was it?
“Surgery itself for you will run concurrently with Abbie’s. It will take approximately seven hours. The surgeon and his team will remove the left lobe of your liver, whilst another team works on Abbie. The donated piece will then replace her liver. You’ll be in intensive care for upwards of twenty four hours, spend another five to seven days in hospital after that. After two, maybe three days post op, you can get out of bed, but will need assistance to begin with. You will be left with three large scars.” The surgeon demonstrated across his stomach. “Here, here and here.”
“OK. What about returning to work?”
“No work or home activities for a month. Then part time for another month after that. No driving for six to eight weeks.”
“I see.” That was going to make protecting Elle impossible.
“The surgery comes with major risks to your health. There is a chance of blood clots and a two percent chance you could die.”
Patrick shrugged, keeping his poker face, despite the way his insides were churning. “I face death on a daily basis at work.”
“This is different.”
“I know that too,” he snapped. “Look, I’ve made up my mind and there is nothing you or anyone can say to make me change it.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Sorry, go on.”
The surgeon continued. “Your liver will regenerate within about six weeks to its original size.”
“What about Abbie?”
“Her surgery will take upwards of ten hours. She’ll spend about five days in intensive care and another three weeks on a general ward. She’ll need to be monitored for rejection, but within about three to six months she’ll be able to do everything she can now. The transplanted liver will grow to the size of her original one within six weeks.”
“OK. Where do I sign?”
The counselor cleared her throat. “Is anyone coercing you to do this?”
“What kind of a question is that?” he asked, shifting in his chair.
“Are you being offered payment for it?”
He sighed. “Abbie is my daughter. I’m exercising my parental right to save my child’s life. Where do I sign?”
The surgeon handed him the form. “The surgery will take place in a week’s time.”
Patrick glanced up from reading. “Can she wait that long?”
“We think so.”
“You think so? She has a massive tumor inside her and you think it can wait a week?”
“Right now, Abbie isn’t strong enough to survive surgery. She has a fever which we need her to recover from first.”
“And if she deteriorates?”
“We’ll rethink. Until that time we wait until she stands a better chance of surviving than she does now.”
Patrick returned his attention to the form, reading it carefully. Lord, am I doing the right thing here? Is this why things happened the way they have? Elle comes back into my life so suddenly, in order that I can help Abbie. Would they have found the tumor without the car accident? Are You keeping Your promise in Romans of working everything for good?
A sense of peace filled him and, knowing he was doing the right thing, he signed the form and handed it back to the surgeon. Once Elle was safe, he could run the desk at work for the time being. That wasn’t exactly strenuous. Nor was protecting her while sitting next to her on the sofa. “Now what?”
“Now, I go and talk to Abbie and Miss Harrison and explain to them what will happen.”
“I don’t think Elle said anything to Abbie yet. She doesn’t want her told.”
“Abbie is thirteen, old enough to understand how sick she is. Without the transplant she’ll die.”
Patrick jerked as if stabbed. He recalled Elle saying that, but she’d been hysterical at the time. “I’m sorry?”
“Abbie’s dying. She’s got a month, maybe two.”
“And you want to wait a week before surgery?” Panic filled him. “If she’s dying anyway, then surely it’d be better to operate sooner rather than later, fever or no fever.”
“Mr. Page, I understand your concern, but right now, Abbie wouldn’t survive the anesthetic never mind the surgery. For yourself, you need to take care over the next few days. Avoid getting sick or injured as much as you can.”
Patrick nodded. “OK.”
The surgeon looked at his notes. “I’ll book a tentative date for Friday.”
“The tenth?” Patrick asked looking at his personal phone.
“Yes. You’ll need to come in the day before for a final set of x-rays and blood tests.”
He shook the surgeon’s hand and left the room, his mind whirling. First he didn’t know about her at all. Then in a few short hours he’d been given a daughter and now he was losing her.
He fumbled for his phone and dialed Liam. The answer phone picked up and he sighed. “Li, it’s me. I really need to talk to you, Ni and the parentals. Give me a call when you get this. See if we can all get together tonight for a few. Bring Jared and Jacqui.”
Pressing the button briefly, he dialed the police station in Tannoch. “Can I speak to DI Nemec? It’s Agent Page with MI5.”
There was a brief pause, then the call connected. “Nemec.”
“Sir, it’s Agent Page in Headley Cross. I don’t have much time, but things are moving a pace down here. I really need to see those files.”
“What’s up?”
“Turns out the woman I’m protecting, Elle, was adopted. Her mother was Rachel Foster…”
Nemec cut him off. “Foster?”
“She has twin brothers, but all I know is what Elle found out a couple of days ago. Since then we’ve been in the hospital with our…her seriously ill daughter.”
“Our daughter?” The American voice hardened.
Patrick closed his eyes. He’d slipped up there. “Forget I said that. But I really do need whatever information you have. I won’t be in the office for a bit though. I’m working in the field on protective detail.”
“I’ll do what I can from this end and get down to London before the end of the week. Will your office know where to find you?”
“They will. Thank you. See you when you get here.”
He hung up and went back up to ITU. Shay stood outside the door. “How’s things?” he asked.
“Fine. The doctors are in talking to Elle and Abbie. You don’t look so good, what’s up?”
“Bad news, that’s all. I’m going to go in, see what the doctor’s saying.”
“It’s family only, Patrick.”
“Still going in.”
She grabbed his arm. “Patrick, if there is something between you and Elle, beyond the obvious attraction which can be seen a mile off, then I need to know and you need to back off this case.”
“Abbie is my daughter.”
“She’s what?”
“You heard. DI Nemec is collating info before flying down with it. I really think there is a link between his Foster and ours. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to find out what my daughter’s doctor has to say.”
He shook her arm off and headed into the ITU, aware of her stunned face behind him. He washed his hands and then crossed over to Abbie’s bed, sliding into the seat beside Elle.
She shot him a grateful smile, and gripped his hand tightly.
Abbie looked at him. “The doctor said you’re a match,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“So I get part of your liver because mine is seriously messed up.”
“Sounds about what they told me.” He smiled at her. “If that’s all right with you.”
She nodded slightly. “Ellie said they tested her as well, but her blood’s wrong.”
Elle looked at him. “They explained all about the matching and told her basically that she and I are positive and negative.”
“And we all know that positive and negative attract not repel, right?” he winked, knowing Abbie would have done that in science at school.
She smiled faintly. “I know science. We do all three sciences at school. We actually broke the Slinky in a physics experiment.”
He laughed. “How did you manage that?”
Abbie tilted her head. “We were studying wave motion. Only we got too enthusiastic and ended up putting a kink in the Slinky.”
He snorted. “Oh, I bet I can guess what you guys called it. Have you done the Maltese cross experiment yet?”
“Last week.”
“We blew it up. Well, imploded it.”
Abbie looked at him in awe. “That beats breaking a Slinky hands down.”
“Certainly does. So, yeah I know a lot about science too. Comes with being a…” he broke off and put a finger over his lips.
Abbie raised a hand and shielded her mouth so only he could see. “Secret agent,” she mouthed with a laugh.
He winked at her and gave her a thumbs up.
“When can I go home?”
The doctor looked at her. “I’d rather you stayed in.”
Abbie pouted. “I don’t want to.”
“Unless there is a need for her to be here, it would be better to have them both at a safe house.” Patrick looked at her and then at the doctor. “If I move them into my place, there are no stairs and she’ll do nothing but rest. I can guarantee it.”
“Please,” Abbie added. “I promise if I get sick again, I’ll come back in.”
“If the scans are clear. If they’re not, then you stay in.”
Elle looked at the doctor. “I don’t want to put her in any danger, no matter what anyone says.”
“Nor do I. Let’s see what the scans show and go from there.”
Patrick nodded. He didn’t want anything to happen to Abbie, but more than anything he wanted to get her to a controlled safe environment. If someone could walk in and disable a lift, then the security in this hospital needed a lot of work. And it definitely wasn’t anywhere near safe enough for his daughter.