‘Oh, I thought I saw them upstairs. Or did I? Yes, I'm sure I did. Now where was it?'
She put the bowl down and went upstairs to look for them. He followed her and she did a sideways walk up in case he was taking a critical look at her bum. Not that he'd be looking at her bum when he liked a Jo MacLean kind of bum i.e. non-existent.
‘Yes, here they are,' she said, spotting them. ‘I thought I'd seen them. There on the windowsill.' She reached over and handed them to him. His fingers brushed against hers and it was unbearable for both of them.
‘Thanks,' he said. He looked down into her lovely blue eyes and was shamed that she had thought him the sort of man he despised. His ‘plan' had been stupid. It had confused their lives even more, and he would be left with a worse loss than when he started.
Stevie raised her head to his face and saw him as he really was and how she had found him, not as Jo had led her to believe he was. You only had to look into his soft gentle eyes to know he didn't have the capacity to hurt anything. And how had she missed how generous his mouth was? An unattainable mouth, because it still belonged to Jo MacLean.
Her thoughts stopped there because her senses were alerted to a noise that was hardly indiscernible to the ear, but that a mother's heart would pick up. It was coming from the kitchen and Stevie's feet flew downstairs in response to it.
Danny wasn't playing any more. He was on the floor, shaking as if in a fit and in great distress, and his lips were paling to blue.
‘Adam!' she screamed. ‘Adam, help me!'
Adam bounced down the stairs.
‘He's hardly breathing!' said Stevie, bent over her son. She pulled her hand back to slap him on the back. Adam caught her arm before it impacted.
‘No, Stevie. Get an ambulance!'
‘Yes,' she said. She picked up the phone and as if she was in a bad dream, it slipped out of her hand. She grabbed it up and could hardly see the numbers, she was crying so hard.
‘Stevie, there's a button missing on his collar – was there one here?'
‘Yes, oh God yes, there was. Hello … ambulance, please.' She sobbed as the phone connected with the Emergency Services and she hurriedly gave them her details. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was Danny's mother; she should be in control, saving his life, not standing there – a big stupid jelly and hardly able to speak.
Adam scooped his finger in Danny's mouth.
‘There's something in there. I think he's swallowed his button and it's blocking his airway. I can't get to it.'
Adam got to his feet and pulled the limp little boy up, wrapping his arms around the child from the back. He braced himself and thrust his fist under Danny's ribcage. And again. It looked so brutal, so abusive. Then something flew out of the little boy's mouth and Danny gasped and started making sicky, retching noises and then he started crying. It was the most beautiful sound Stevie had ever heard.
Disorientated, Danny looked around for Stevie, reached out for her and Stevie pulled him into her arms and rocked him. She didn't know how long for, she didn't feel part of this world any more. She was numb and cocooned in some safe bubble of time that let her savour the feeling of her son's breathing, of his life. They sat like that until the ambulance sirened up the lane and Adam met it at the door and explained to the paramedics what had happened.
‘We'd better take you in, just as a precaution,' said one of the paramedics, giving Danny a quick once-over. ‘Hey, young fella, how would you like to have a ride in the back of an ambulance?'
Danny nodded slowly, but he didn't say his customary, ‘Cool,' which was telling. Adam lifted him away so Stevie could get up, and he cuddled up to the big Scot and wouldn't let him go. So Adam came too, in the back of the ambulance to the hospital.
Stevie sat in a cosy waiting room with Adam whilst Danny was in the consulting room with the doctor. She was remembering those awful first days of his life when her arms felt so empty. Her Little Fighter. She never thought she would feel that pain or that relief again. Being a parent gave you highs and lows that were almost an assault on the heart.
She wasn't sobbing as such, but her eyes were piping out tears. Adam watched them rolling down her face, one after the other, as if coming from an endless supply within. She looked so little, so tiny and more fragile than he could ever have imagined her.
‘He was a premature baby,' she said at last. ‘I didn't think he'd pull through – I was warned he might not. To have nearly lost your child once is terrible, to go through this twice … '
‘Shhh,' said Adam, because even though he felt shaken himself, he couldn't imagine what Stevie must be feeling like.
‘I told him if he didn't stop sucking his collar he'd turn blue and he did,' she wept.
‘Stevie, stop tormenting yourself.'
‘If you hadn't been there, he'd have died. If-'
‘Stevie, if I hadn't been there, you'd have saved his life somehow, don't ask me how, but I know that without a shadow of a doubt. Now stop thinking about "if", there's no point. Danny is safe. "If" didn't happen.'
‘You saved his life, Adam, and I was useless, crap. A totally crap mother.'
All her insecurities came to the fore. Not being able to keep her son's father, not being able to carry her baby full-term, not being able to keep her son's would-be stepfather, not giving Danny a settled home, not getting him to eat potatoes or bread, not being able to stop him chewing his collars, not being able to save his life … So many times she had wished to collapse against a big, strong man who would take control and sort everything out for her. Now here she was doing exactly that and it wasn't Welsh Jonny or Mick or Matthew, it was Adam MacLean, of all people. This truly was Fate's biggest joke on her yet.
‘You're a great mother, trust me on this,' said Adam. ‘You put food on his table, clothes on his back and love in his heart.'
‘You've been reading my books.'
‘Awa', I wouldnae read that pap.' He nudged her and she laughed, although the tears didn't stop. Each one brought out another at its end, like a magician's constant stream of sleeve scarves. Adam put his arm around her and squeezed her. She was all squashy and soft and warm and there was flour in her hair. He wanted to pull her onto his knee and sink his face into her neck.
The door opened and a smiley nurse came in.
‘Hi there, Danny's mum?' Then she threw an extra ‘Heeeey' at Adam, like a female version of The Fonz. ‘Your little boy is fine,' she said. ‘Scratched his throat a bit, that's all, but no lasting harm done. Do you want to come and get him?'
‘Go on,' said Adam. ‘I'll wait here for you.'
Stevie smiled at him and followed the nurse quickly out.
‘So you're Adam's lady, are you?' said the nurse.
‘No, we're just' – mortal enemies – ‘neighbours.'
‘Adam's one of our favourites,' she leaned in and winked. ‘He raised over three thousand pounds for us when he cut all his hair off. He helps us a lot. And, of course, he's our Father Christmas. The kids love him!'
A ginger Father Christmas with a scar? thought Stevie, and as if she had heard her, the nurse said, ‘He tells the kids that he scraped his face on Rudolf's antler.' She actually sighed, as if she was talking about Ronan Keating.
Then Adam's number one fan opened up a door and gestured for Stevie to go in.
Danny was sitting on a bed and a beautiful female Indian doctor was talking to him.
‘Is he okay, Doctor?' said Stevie, hugging her baby.
‘He's fine. Little scratching to the throat, so I'll give you a prescription for an antibiotic just in case, and we also recommend an intensive course of ice-cream,' said the doctor, trying to coax a smile from her patient, and getting a very little one in return.
‘No more sucking collars,' said the nurse with a gently wagging finger.
‘Okay, I won't,' said Danny. ‘Can I go home now?'
‘Yes, I think so,' said the doctor.
‘Do I need to keep him off school?' asked Stevie, taking the prescription.
‘I don't think there's a need,' said the doctor, smiling. ‘See how he is in the morning.'
Stevie wrapped up her son in her arms and carried him out. He smelt and felt so precious, but if she caught him sucking collars again, she would glue his mouth up.
Adam met them in the entrance hall. Danny reached out, gave him a big Superhero hug, and moved over into his arms. The wee boy smelt of his mother's perfume. He was so like her, with his honey-coloured hair and his big blue eyes, that Adam found himself gulping back something that made his eyes distinctly watery. His hold on the boy was tight and strong as they got a taxi home to Humbleby.