‘I’m absolutely delighted,’ said Turner. ‘I’m sure her parents will be too. Where do we go from here?’
‘Well, there is one obstacle left to clear, I’m afraid.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You may have heard that we were recently subject to a review by government officials.’
‘I remember.’
‘We got agreement over finances but part of the agreement was that we should have one of their people on site to see that we weren’t wasting public money on champagne and caviar as we private hospitals are prone to do.’
Turner chuckled.
‘I think we’re going to have to clear it with this guy first, or maybe you’d like to approach him yourself to plead your case? Like we said, transplants are expensive so we’re talking serious altruism here. This guy’s name is Dr Steven Dunbar. I can give you the number of his office here at the hospital if you like. What do you think?’
‘I’ll do it,’ said Turner. He wrote down the number and asked, ‘Do you think this will be a real problem?’
‘Frankly, I’ve no idea but you can tell him we’ve all agreed to it. Maybe that’ll help to put some pressure on him.’
‘Good idea,’ said Turner. ‘And if he says yes?’
‘We can admit her on Friday. That gives us both time to get the paperwork in order.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
‘There is one thing,’ said Giordano with a note of caution in his voice.
‘Yes?’
‘We’d be happy if there wasn’t any publicity over this one.’
Turner was slightly taken aback. ‘But this is a wonderfully generous gesture on your part,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d be only too happy to get some good press out of it. You deserve it!’
‘Thanks, but the truth is this kid is pretty sick by all accounts and it’s always in the lap of the gods whether a suitable organ will come along in time. The public like instant success or they get bored, so we’d appreciate it if this particular freebie could be kept among ourselves.’
‘Of course, if that’s what you’d prefer,’ said Turner.
‘Good,’ said Giordano. ‘Don’t get me wrong. If a kidney becomes available, then the kid’s chances will be as good as any other patient’s. It’s just that if there should be a long delay and she’s stuck with the tissue-degradation problem, then we’d hate to have a really public failure on our hands. That’s not going to do any of us any good.’
‘Understood,’ said Turner.
‘I take it she’s already on the transplant register?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then it’ll just be a case of changing patient location details. If you can give me her registration number I’ll get one of the secretaries to post the update.’
‘I can give you that right now,’ said Turner, opening the folder that sat by the computer terminal on his desk.
‘Shoot.’
Turner read out the number and Giordano read it back to him.
‘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.