Page 35 of A Found Family at the Cornish Country Hospital

‘You don’t want to use her eggs any more, do you?’ Something twisted in Aidan’s chest. He couldn’t imagine taking this away from Isla, but he couldn’t deny he had doubts, too.

‘I don’t know.’ Jase pulled into a passing place and stopped the car, turning to look at Aidan again. ‘I don’t know what the right thing is for any of us, any more.’

‘Because of the cancer?’ When Jase nodded, Aidan felt as if his heart had contracted. He knew better than anyone what it felt like to be considered not good enough, and it was as if they were rejecting Isla for something completely out of her control. ‘It wouldn’t affect the baby, and we’ve been told it’s not genetic, so?—’

‘Oh God, no, it’s not that.’ Jase’s eyes had gone glassy. ‘What I’m scared of, is us using some of Isla’s eggs, and if the cancer progresses, having taken away some of her chances of becoming a mum. How could we live with ourselves, if we do that? How are we all going to feel, if she never has a child, but we do? We’ll have stolen that from her. I just don’t think I can take that risk.’

‘You are the kindest man in the world.’ Aidan leant forward and kissed his husband slowly, before pulling away again. The realisation hit him, that if it ended up just being the two of them forever, he’d be okay with that. Far more than okay in fact, because he really had married the best man in the world. Jase was someone who always thought of others before himself, and who radiated the same kindness he carried in his heart. But Aidan needed to confess his own doubts, and he wasn’t sure they came from nearly so pure a place. ‘I’ve been worried too, but what I’m scared of is that she seems to be pinning everything on us having a baby. I’ve become so fond of Isla, she feels like a little sister to me in many ways and I really want her to be a part of our child’s life. But what if the fertility treatment doesn’t work? Right now, I just want to protect her and make sure nothing can hurt her, because she’s going through so much and there’s nothing we can do to take that away. But if the treatment fails, it’s going to devastate her. It’ll break our hearts too, but we’ll have the option of trying again, with another donor if we haveto. We can’t let Isla stop her treatment to do that for a second time, but I’m worried about how she’ll react to the idea that we might need to move on? I’m scared it’ll break her, that she’ll pull away from us and stop looking to the future the way she should. We didn’t cover any of this in our counselling, because the stakes weren’t so high back then, and we weren’t pinning everything on this one egg collection being enough. I don’t think I could give up on our dream, or the chance to try again, even if that meant saving Isla any more pain. But it’s going to hurt her if we put a stop to things now, too, and I’ve got no idea what to do for the best.’

There was a rawness in Aidan’s throat as he waited for Jase to respond. All of the pieces of the jigsaw should have been fitting together now that Ellen wanted to be their surrogate, only the picture emerging was nothing like the one they’d seen on the box and none of the bits were slotting together the way they were supposed to. Maybe it was a sign from the universe that they shouldn’t try for a baby, except he knew they’d spend all their lives wondering what could have been if they didn’t attempt to follow their dream.

‘I don’t either, but it’s hard to imagine going ahead without her.’ Jase shook his head. ‘So what do we do?’

‘I think we need to have some more conversations with Isla, and see how we all feel once we know whether her treatment is working. My biggest fear, if we pull the plug now, is that she won’t let us support her with anything she’s going through, and that’s something I really don’t think I could deal with. We’ve still got a bit of time. The plan was always to freeze Isla’s eggs anyway and, whatever we decide, she’ll have stored some eggs she can use in the future if she needs to.’

‘The problem is, Ellen is on a timeline of her own. This is her last surrogacy and you heard what she said about wanting itall finished before her eldest starts secondary school. We’ve got eighteen months, so we can’t put it off for long.’

‘I know, but despite what Isla told us, I’m almost certain she can’t afford the cost of having her eggs frozen on her own and I don’t think the NHS would cover it, because she’s not going through chemo. So, if we make a definite decision not to use any of them now, I don’t think she’ll be able to go through with it.’ Aidan closed his eyes for a second, opening them to meet his husband’s gaze. ‘I know I’m asking a lot, but I want to help her with this, whatever we decide. She offered us an amazing gift, and we owe her this. If it means I need to take out a loan, or take on all the overtime going, to top up the IVF fund, then I’m happy to do it. Right now, the thing Isla needs more than anything, is to create a future she can look forward to, and I’m not taking that away from her.’

‘You were so wrong when you said I was the kindest man in the world, because I’m married to him.’ Jase pulled Aidan closer and hugged him tightly. Being in his husband’s arms had always felt like the place he was meant to be, and Jase had made Aidan feel safer, and more loved, than anyone else ever had. That kind of love was the one thing Aidan had craved most in life. So he was prepared to do whatever it took, to give the man he adored what he wanted too. But for now, they’d agreed to take a step back from their own dreams, to focus on supporting Isla. Aidan hadn’t thought it was possible to love Jase any more than he had ten minutes before, but that was something he’d definitely been wrong about.

20

Isla moved as quietly as she could, checking that the drip was functioning the way it should and replacing the electrolytes in her patient’s body. Stuart had his eyes closed, looking peaceful for the first time since he’d been admitted, when he’d been clawing at his throat and choking, his eyes wild with panic. He was struggling to swallow and, with an obvious progression of his Motor Neurone Disease, he’d been in a lot of distress. Isla had found it traumatic, so she couldn’t even imagine what it was like for Stuart. He’d been given pain relief which had helped ease his panic, and had allowed him to rest, which was why she was so keen not to disturb him now. Stuart’s bloods had been taken and he’d undergone a full examination, but for now the only treatment was to address his dehydration. A specialist from the speech and language team would be carrying out an assessment on Stuart’s inability to swallow, and they’d asked to see a copy of his advance care plan to see whether there’d been any discussion about the use of a feeding tube. The paramedics had said at handover that it was a carer who’d called for the ambulance, but no one had accompanied him, and there’d been no sign of any relatives yet.

Stuart must have been about the same age as Isla’s father had been when he died, and the panic in his eyes when Isla had first seen him had been like an echo of the final stages of her father’s illness too. In those last days, it wasn’t clear if he’d even known who his family were. But despite losing his ability to communicate with words, it had been obvious when he’d opened his eyes that he’d still been able to feel afraid, and that had been the hardest thing for her to bear.

‘Didn’t want to wake up.’ The words were hard to make out, but when Isla looked at Stuart, it was almost as if she could see them written in his eyes.

‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’ She touched his hand for a moment, but his only response was to sigh.

‘Enough.’ It was just one little word, but it said so much, and it was as if Isla could actually feel the heart she’d superglued back together when her father had died shattering in her chest all over again.

Chloe, one of Stuart’s carers, had arrived at the hospital about ten minutes after he’d woken up and spoken to Isla. The details of his advance care plan had set out that he didn’t want a feeding tube, and Chloe had told Isla, and the rest of the team caring for him, that Stuart had been adamant he didn’t want to prolong his illness. The progress of his MND had been relatively slow and he’d been living with the disease for more than three years already. According to Chloe, he had no living family, and most of his friends had drifted away since his diagnosis. Everything she’d said had broken Isla’s heart a little bit more, and by the time Stuart had been moved up to the ward, she’d had to go to the toilets to cry in private. Her tears were for her patient, herdad, and all that her family had gone through with the progress of his illness. But what she hadn’t admitted, even to herself, was the drip, drip of fear – like a broken tap – that situations like this had triggered since her own diagnosis. It was nothing like MND, logically she knew that, and she also knew she was supposed to feel grateful that things weren’t so much worse. But the not knowing how they would end up meant she couldn’t turn off that dripping tap, no matter how much she might want to. Instead, she pushed the feelings down and made it all the way to the end of her shift, without anyone needing to ask if she was okay. They might have queried the redness of her eyes, if she hadn’t pre-empted it by telling Amy that her hay fever was playing up, but she really thought she’d got away with it.

Amy had finished her shift at the same time as Isla, but she’d left the department first as Isla had needed to discuss the handover of one of her patients. She hadn’t expected Amy to still be outside the shop, tucking into a huge piece of cake, when she’d gone to grab a drink before leaving.

‘Oh my God, Isla, you have got to taste some of this pistachio cake Gwen has made, it’s the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t go that far.’ Gwen, who was the undisputed queen of innuendos, dropped one of her trademark winks as she made the comment, and Amy almost choked on the forkful of cake she’d just eaten. ‘Danni and Charlie have asked me if I’d be able to make the cake for their wedding, so I’m trying out a few recipes and I need guinea pigs.’

‘Come on skinny minnie, you can indulge just this once, because whatever diet you’re on is working a bit too well, if you ask me!’ Amy was already putting a slice of cake onto a paper plate, but when she looked up and realised that Isla had tears streaming down her face, she dropped it onto the table. ‘Hey,what’s wrong, and don’t try passing it off as hay fever, because even I’m not that thick.’

‘I don’t, I can’t…’ Isla could hardly see through her tears and her head was throbbing with the effort of trying to hold them back for so long, but then Gwen slipped an arm around her waist.

‘Right, come on you two, we’re not doing this out here.’ Within thirty seconds, Gwen had ushered them into the shop, behind the counter where one of the other volunteers was serving, and into the small stock room at the back, where much to Isla’s surprise, there was a three-seater sofa. ‘This is top secret, by the way, only the shop staff usually get to discover this space.’

‘You do know I’m coming here whenever I need a break, don’t you?’ As Amy turned towards Isla, the grin slid off her face. As hard as she’d tried, Isla hadn’t been able to get control of the tears this time, and they were still running down her face. ‘Oh Isla, what is it? Has something gone wrong with the fertility treatment?’

‘No.’ She was gulping for air now, like a fish out of water and Gwen took charge again.

‘Sit down, my love, and don’t talk for a minute. Just breathe and keep crying if that’s what you need to do. Then you can talk, but only if you want to. I’m going to get you a drink.’ Gwen was true to her word, returning a couple of minutes later with a hot chocolate. It might have seemed an odd choice for the time of year, but she obviously knew what she was doing, because when Isla took a sip it was like a warm hug. Amy had sat next to her in silence, while Gwen was gone, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, which in itself was nothing short of a miracle, as there was little Amy hated more than silence; she usually talked non-stop.

‘Thank you.’ Isla’s breathing was shuddery as she spoke, but the tears finally seemed to be drying up.

‘You’re more than welcome, my love; now, you take as long as you want. I can disappear back out to the shop if you want to chat with Amy in private, or you can both just sit here until you’re ready to leave, if you don’t want to talk at all.’ The reaction on Amy’s face to Gwen’s words made Isla smile through her tears.

‘I don’t think Amy’s ever going to forgive you if I follow that advice.’

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