Fergus
When Fergus arrived home it was ten o’clock and he doubted he’d sleep. Again. Luckily he didn’t need much.
Ailee blamed herself for not noticing William’s deviation earlier. Just so long as she didn’t blame him if the decision to transplant was rescinded. He hoped Dr Harry would be back for that one.
Light was still angling from beneath Simone’s bedroom door and he knocked gently in case she had fallen asleep reading.
‘Hey, Dad.’ His daughter sat up in bed and the smile she gave him eased some of the isolation he felt from the harsh words between him and Ailee.
‘Hello, sweetheart. What are you doing awake?’
She glanced at the clock as if to say he was the late one. ‘I wanted to wait for you to come home.’
‘I’m home. Now go to sleep. It’s school tomorrow.’ Fergus crossed the room and pulled the curtains before coming back to sit on the edge of the bed.
‘I know. Did you have a nice night with Ailee?’ Simone was smirking at him as if she’d caught him out.
He appreciated her cleverness, but discussing Ailee with his daughter was the last thing on his wish list. ‘What makes you think I was with Ailee?’
‘Intuition.’
He raised his eyebrows and suppressed a smile. ‘Really? What else does your intuition tell you?’
Simone tilted her head on one side and studied him. The mannerism belonged to her mother and he smiled.
‘Things are not going smoothly,’ his daughter pronounced.
‘You have wonderful intuition, just like your mother had.’ He tucked in her bedclothes. ‘I love you but I’m not going to discuss this with you. Now, go to sleep.’
‘Dad?’
This time he did smile. ‘Yes, Simone.’
‘Occasionally you have to take risks if something is important enough.’ His world at this moment was full of irony, this time coming from Simone.
‘Thank you, baby. I’ll remember that.’ He leant across and kissed his daughter on the brow. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Night, Dad.’
In the morning Simone was up before he left, which was unusual, and she dragged her fluffy slippers across the floor as she entered and shuffled across the room to slump into the chair next to him. ‘I had a bad dream last night.’
Fergus put down his coffee and concentrated on his daughter. She looked pale.
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. You okay now?’
Simone shook her head and he saw that her eyes were red. She’d been crying.
‘Not really,’ she said softly.
Fergus stood up, pulled his daughter up against him and put his arms around her. She didn’t pull away and his heart ached at how much she missed her mother in these growing years.
He dreaded the times in the future when their rapport might be lost. For the moment she trusted him again and he
accepted how much he needed that trust from his daughter. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
She nodded her head, burrowing into his chest. He smoothed the fine hair back from her forehead. ‘Take your time.’
Simone leant against him and then finally she mumbled into his shirt, ‘Is Ailee sick?’
Fergus felt like groaning. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because in the dream she was sick like Mummy was. I was locked out of the room, looking through a window. You were sad and I was calling out to you, but you couldn’t hear me.’ Simone buried her nose back in his chest.
Fergus winced and rubbed her back. ‘I will always hear you, baby.’
Simone looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. ‘So Ailee isn’t sick... is she?’
Now he was in a dilemma. ‘No. Ailee isn’t sick.’ He felt his daughter relax against him with relief and he hugged her briefly. He wasn’t lying but he wasn’t being fair to his daughter either. ‘Ailee’s brother is sick.’
Simone stiffened against him. ‘Can she catch it?’
‘No.’ He sighed. ‘William is eighteen and has renal failure. You are probably one of the few girls in your school who would understand what that is and what it means to a previously healthy young person.’
Simone nodded and he drew a breath.
‘Ailee is donating one of her kidneys to him in a week or two.’
His daughter froze and then pulled away to stare up into his face. ‘But she might need it sometime herself.’
He tried to smile. ‘Ailee is very healthy.’
Simone shook her head violently from side to side. ‘Tell her she can’t do it.’
He sighed and looked down at his daughter’s pleading face. She was so young and fragile and had been through so much. ‘I can’t tell her that. It’s Ailee’s decision.’
Simone was still shaking her head. ‘She could get sick. An infection or even a clot like Mummy! People die from operations. It’s a big operation.’
‘Ailee is not going to die.’ His voice firm, sure, convincing her, convincing himself.
‘Mummy wasn’t supposed to die.’
And that was the crux of all of this. Fergus ached for the young girl who had watched her mother go into the hospital and never come out. ‘I know, darling.’ He hugged Simone to him but she pulled away.
‘Why did you bring her here and make me like her if she’s going to die?’
‘I didn’t make you like Ailee. You chose that yourself.’ Firmly he said, ‘And she’s not going to die.’
Simone backed away out of his arms. ‘Even if she doesn’t die this time, one day she might get sick. She’ll need her other kidney and it will be gone. Then she’ll get sicker and sicker and die as well.’
Fergus stood there and watched his daughter back away from him. He tried to reason with her. ‘Some people are born with one kidney and never have a problem. Perfectly healthy people who haven’t donated can get sick kidneys suddenly. That is the same for everyone, Simone.’
Simone shook her head. ‘You shouldn’t have brought her here. I hate her and I hate you.’ Simone spun on her heel and ran out of the room, and Fergus rubbed his face with his hand. Terrific.
Ailee would be saying ‘I told you so’.
He wanted to knock his head against the wall. Or curse. Or hug Ailee to him.