Magic Sometimes Happens Part 32

But I found I couldn't handle all this information. All I had to understand was Joe was getting better. I kept right on asking them if my son was going to recover, and they kept right on telling me he would.

'He's not unconscious, Mr Riley,' said a nurse, who came to check him out because he closed his eyes and then I panicked, rang the bell. 'He's resting, getting up his strength again.'

'You must go home and get some sleep,' I said to Rosie as we stood at the foot of Joseph's bed and Polly toddled round the little room, patting on things.

'Yes.' Rosie shrugged. 'Yes, that might be a plan.'

'It definitely would and Rosie?'

'What?'

'Thank you, thank you, lovely, lovely girl, for everything you did for us, for saving Joseph's life. You were our guardian angel.'

Rosie looked at me. I thought she was half-smiling now. But then her big grey eyes filled up with tears, spilled over, runnelled down her cheeks. She turned away. She bowed her head and sobbed, her shoulders shaking. I never saw someone in such distress.

'Hey, don't cry, he's going to be fine!' I took her in my arms and rocked her like I would have rocked a little baby. 'They said so. Did you hear them?'

But she wouldn't stop crying. She sobbed and sobbed as if her heart would break.

'It's relief,' a nurse a.s.sured me, coming by to find out what was going on and who was making all the noise. 'I tell you what, why don't you both sit quietly for half an hour? I'll fetch some tea and toast.'

I wonder if there's anything the British cannot fix by drinking tea and eating toast? I kind of doubt it, actually. Rosie certainly seemed better after she had breakfast.

Joe was dozing, so she didn't wake him. She merely touched his hand and then she left to get some sleep herself. A minute later, Joe woke up and asked where she had gone and then asked, where was Mom?

'I'm doing everything I can to track her down,' I told him. 'I'm sure she'll be here soon.'

It took a while, but finally I got to speak with Lex. She was held up in Scotland, so she said. She and Mr Wonderful took a romantic weekend break in Aberdeenshire. Mr Wonderful had friends who owned a castle there. 'I tried to call you, Patrick,' she insisted. 'But there was a ton of rain and then there was a landslide.'

'What do landslides have to do with anything?'

'The wires came down or some such. So I couldn't use a landline. I couldn't get a signal on my cell. The road was washed away, and listen, Pat, it's not my fault!'

I told her that I didn't care about whose fault it was, if she'd been held up by a landslide or an avalanche, been swept away by a flash flood or whirled into the sky by a tornado. All she had to do was get her a.s.s to London right away.

ROSIE.

I had a few hours of troubled sleep then went back to the Royal to see Polly, Pat and Joe. When I saw Pat and saw how tired he looked he'd aged ten years in just five days I cried again. I couldn't help myself.

He stroked my hair and told me twenty, thirty times that Joe was doing good. The doctors, nurses all agreed. I'd got him to the hospital in time and he would make a full recovery. So why was I crying?

How could I tell him about Charlie and my nightmare on a loop?

'When will Alexis get here, do you think?' I asked.

'She should be in London by this evening and she'll come straight to the hospital.'

'Then I'll go home. I don't think we should meet.'

'She ought to thank you.'

'She might not see it quite that way.' I shrugged out of his embrace. 'I took you all to Paris. She might hold me responsible for this.'

'I'll make it very plain to Lex it's not your fault. Or anybody's fault. The consultant guy, he told me not to waste my time and energy in trying to figure out what someone did or didn't do. Anyone can get this sort of thing, he said, from a bug bite, graze, an accidental scratch kids are always getting little scratches and these can get infected. When you think about it, Rosie, all those tiny cuts and injuries we all get all the time, it's a wonder anyone survives. The important thing is your quick thinking saved Joe's life.'

'The doctors saved his life.'

'They told me three, four hours more, his body would have started shutting down. Then he might have lost his limbs, his hearing or his sight. He might have even died.'

'Three, four hours that's all?' I whispered.

'Yeah, that's what they said. So Lex and I, we can't thank you enough and we will be forever in your debt. You need me, I'll be there.' Poll was tugging at his T-shirt now and so he let me go and picked her up. 'I'm sorry I got mad at you when you called to tell me Joe was sick,' he added. 'When I think of what I said to you-'

'You were shocked. You probably thought I'd run away with him, had kidnapped him or something, was holding him to ransom.'

'I shouldn't have got mad. I didn't mean to frighten you.'

'You didn't frighten me.'

'I'd hate for you to be afraid, for anyone to scare you.'

'Pat, don't look so worried. I wasn't scared at all.' Although I was so tired and so conflicted, I still managed a small, feeble smile. 'I never could be scared of you.'

'You hold that thought and if I ever yell at you again you tell me to go f- chase myself. I mean it.'

I wasn't scared of Pat, how could I be?

But I was very scared of what was happening to me. I couldn't keep him I knew that. I'd read the novels, seen the movies, sobbed with Tess through reconciliation scenes between the warring parents at the bedside of their child, seen the joy in both their faces when their child got well.

I'd heard them promise tearfully to be a real family again. I'd watched them crying in each other's arms. I'd heard them ask whatever were they thinking when they'd parted? When they got the chance, they told each other, they would go to see the minister, priest, rabbi or whatever and renew their vows.

Did I want to meet Alexis?

No, because I didn't want to see them being kind to one another, much less making up. Patrick and Alexis getting back together, Joe and Polly living with both parents once again that would make the perfect happy ending, wouldn't it?

But how would I survive?

PATRICK.

Joe was in the hospital a while. At first he made slow progress. But every day he got a little better, had more colour and ate with more enthusiasm. Polly, don't you touch my chocolate b.u.t.tons/jelly beans. Rosie brought me those! Okay, you can have one but only one. He grew more like the Joe we nearly lost.

Rosie disappeared. I could kind of understand it, see it might be awkward if she and Lex should meet. But I was hurt as well. Joe talked about her all the time. When would he see Rosie? When would Rosie come?

'Rosie, Daddy?' Polly looked around for Rosie, too.

But whenever Joe or Polly mentioned Rosie, Lexie's mouth grew like a hen's b.u.t.t or a miser's moneybag that had the strings pulled tight. 'I'm your mommy, honey,' she reminded Joe. 'Rosie's just a friend.'

'But Rosie brought me to the hospital. Mom, if Rosie hadn't brought me here, I would have died.'

'Who told you that?' demanded Lexie.

'Daddy,' Joe replied.

'Well, Daddy isn't always right.'

Whatever Lexie said and thought, however and of course she said a ton of stuff I was beyond grateful to Joseph's guardian angel and knew I always would be for as long as I might live. If my wife had any sense or feeling, she should have been beyond grateful, too.

But when I explained to Lex, when I told her in much more detail what had happened, all she said was she was not surprised that Joe got sick if that Rosie woman had taken us on dirty British trains. n.o.body in Britain rode the trains unless they couldn't afford to travel any other way. Stephen never rode the trains, and Stephen always said ...

I considered having a discussion with Mr Wonderful. But it seemed he had the sense to keep out of my way, and I had other, more important matters on my mind, like sorting out my future, a future in which Rosie would play a major part.

As for our son, the afternoon he asked us for his hair gel so he could fix his style, we knew our little guy would be okay.

A few days later, Lexie and the kids and Mr Wonderful flew back to Minnesota. I didn't have a fight with Lexie about taking Joe and Polly home, much as I'd have liked to see them and to satisfy myself that Joe was fit and well.

I knew I'd always get the nightmares. While he was sick, I drove myself half-crazy googling septicaemia, finding out what could have happened, how Joe could have lost his sight, his hearing, his arms, his legs, his mind.

So when Joe and Polly left, I missed them. But I was scheduled to spend more time in the UK. I still had work to do in the IT department at Queen Alexandra College, and who was I kidding? Shoot, I could have done most of that work in Minnesota. The truth is that I wanted I needed to see Rosie.

But she was very busy, so she said. She was working all hours, building up her client list and driving round the country seeing people who could use her PR expertise. 'I need to get this business on its feet,' she said. 'I want to see results.'

Since I also like to see results, I guess I understood.

When she was out of town, we kept in touch by cell. When we managed to meet up again, the magic was still there. Or most of it was there. She seemed as loving and as funny and as cute as she had ever been. But something wasn't right. It was kind of like she was withdrawing, was putting s.p.a.ce between herself and me.

'Rosie, is there anything you want to talk about?' I asked one evening, while we were sitting on her couch and she scrolled through her emails. 'You worried about something?'

'No, why would I be? How are Joe and Polly, Patrick? Joe is up to speed again, I hope?'

'Yeah, Joe is doing great. Lexie took him to the doctor's office yesterday. Our Dr Mayer checked him out and seems he made a full recovery. Polly well, she's fine.'

'That's good to know. Pat, I hate to throw you out, but I'm going to Hull tomorrow morning and I'll need to get up very early.'

I took the hint and left and, as I rode the subway home, I thought maybe our affair had run its course, that she was tired of me, was thinking it was time she found herself another guy, someone who had no baggage?

There was still so much she didn't know. So much I didn't feel I could explain, had never told a mortal soul. Perhaps she ought to know? I wanted her to know. But if I did come clean, if I should go for full disclosure, would she ever speak to me again? If she wouldn't see me and if she wouldn't talk to me, it would break my heart.

One evening when I called and called, she failed to pick up. All I could get was voicemail. So was this the end, the point at which I should have got the message, when I should have realised what it meant, when a woman would not take my calls?

Or maybe she was sick?

I had just a couple days left here in the UK.

I decided this was not the end.

I went to her apartment and saw at once that something must be wrong. She had been crying. 'What's the matter, Rosie?' I began, concerned. 'Why are you so upset?'

'I've l-lost my phone!'

Oh, sweet salvation, the relief!

'I'm always losing mine,' I said. 'Why don't you call the number?'

'I've called the number half a million times!'

'No luck?'

'It's going straight to voicemail.' She began to cry again. 'It isn't in the office and it isn't in the flat. I've t-turned the whole place upside down.'

'Did you leave it on?'

'I think so, yes.'

'What about the battery how long does it last?'

'Oh, ages several days more than a week, in fact.' She sniffed. 'I charged it up this morning, so-'

'So we have time to find it.' I gave her a big hug and stroked her hair. I hoped her phone was on and that the battery was fully charged. Otherwise, she'd be looking for a brick. 'Someone kind might find it,' I suggested, fingers crossed behind her back. 'Go into your list of contacts, make a call to one?'

'I suppose they might.'

'But let's not wait for that to happen. We can start to look for it online. What security and tracking applications do you have?'

'I don't have any security and tracking applications.'

'Of course you do. You must. When you first got the phone remember? When you took out the contract?'

'Pat, my phone is four or five years old. We didn't do security and tracking applications then. We didn't realise we needed them, and I don't have them right?'

'Okay, okay, don't worry if your phone is on and no one's using it and running down the battery, I'm sure there'll still be something we can do. But if we can't track it down by GPS, it's just a handset, yeah? You can replace it.'

'I can't replace what's on it.'

'What is that?'

'The last time I saw Charlie.'

'Who is Charlie? Some guy you used to know?'

'Charlie is my sister.'

ROSIE.

'I didn't know you have a sister?' Pat looked puzzled. 'When we went to Red Wing that time, you told me-'

'I don't have a sister any more.'

'Oh, Rosie, love! What happened?' He led me over to the sofa, sat me down and put his arm around my shoulders. 'Does she ... is she-'