I squeezed my dress, hating that my son needed this special treatment at all. “Of course.”
“Social services were contacted immediately and you’ll need to have a meeting with them, but I believe Aiden will need therapy… perhaps speech therapy to help him begin speaking again, and some physiotherapy for his leg. He’ll need to see a dentist too. Perhaps a nutritionist—”
“That’s a lot of people fussing over my son,” I said. “Look, I know all of this needs to be done. I want him to get better and I want him to be able to live a normal life, but all this will be too much for him. Don’t you think?”
Dr Schaffer sighed. “I do. I believe this is going to be a slow adjustment and a slow process. Not everything will happen at once. For one, I believe Aiden will need to see a specialist at York hospital physiotherapy unit, though we will need an x-ray first.” He paused. “There’s going to be a waiting list anyway. And maybe I can help you will his diet to begin with, and we can check on him in a few weeks. And another thing… Aiden has been declared dead. He has no identification, no passport.”
“I have his birth certificate,” I said.
“And a death certificate,” Dr Schaffer continued. “I’m no expert in these matters but I know it might be difficult at first. All of Aiden’s records show him as deceased and that will slow the whole process down. But what we’ll do is test his eyesight, hearing, and vitals in hospital. Then you can arrange for your own dentist, optician, and physiotherapist when the paperwork has come through.”
I let go of the balled up material. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Now, can I see him?”
I needed a few minutes with him before calling Rob’s parents. Perhaps it was selfish, perhaps it was reasonable; I didn’t know at the time and I didn’t care. I didn’t dwell on my feelings, I was protecting my son. The last thing he needed was to be bombarded by well-meaning visitors and professionals. I followed Schaffer and Stevenson through the corridor, avoiding the stares from the nurses walking up and down. For the first time I realised that there were other children on the ward. I tried not to stare into the rooms as we walked along, but through open doors I saw giggling children and fathers making silly faces. There were pots on arms and legs. Broken limbs. They were normal reasons for a child coming to hospital. And when they went back to school they’d get all the signatures and doodles of their friends. They’d have fun stories to tell—“…and then next-door’s Doberman chased me over the fence but I caught my jeans and face-planted…”—and scars to show off. They would be louder and more boisterous for a while, emboldened by their escape from ‘death’. But not my son.
“Hey, Aiden.” I kept my voice bright and cheerful as I entered the room. Aiden sat with his back propped up against the headboard. He had a cup of juice in his hand and he sipped on it slowly. I walked over to the bed, cleared my throat as I moved the chair closer to him, and held back tears. I was determined to avoid thinking about what he had been through. I would not. I could not. “I bet you’re sick of people bothering you when you’re trying to watch cartoons.” I let myself really look at him this time. I took it all in: the rich brown of his eyelashes, the boniness of his shoulders, the thick, straight hair. They melded with my memories of the dark-haired boy with scrapes on his knees and a grin on his face. Now there was only a neutral, placid expression on his face. Every one of his movements was slow: the turn of his head, blinking, reaching out to the table next to him for his drink.
The baby moved inside, kicking its feet. I longed to take Aiden’s hand and place it on my bump for him to feel, but I only put my own hand there instead. “That’s your little sister saying hello. You see, you have so many people wanting to say hello. And you know I would have come sooner, but I didn’t know where you were. I’m sorry, Aiden. I’m so sorry I didn’t know where you were. I’ll never not know again, I promise. We’re going to fix it all, you know. We’re going to mend it together. You and me. We’ll be a team again, like we were when we lived at Nana’s house, remember? We fought crime, you and me. You were Superman, obviously, you had the cape. I was just your sidekick but you made sure we caught the baddies every time. We’re going to do that again, I promise.”