Silent Child

“I never had an opportunity to say hello,” Jake said, interrupting the silence with a voice that sounded strangely upbeat, given the mood.

“Yeah, hi,” Rob replied, barely even glancing at Jake.

My muscles clenched at Jake’s flushed, red face and the hand he’d extended to shake as we walked awkwardly down the corridor, shoulder to shoulder.

“I think you were in one of my art classes, weren’t you? The apple made of barbed wire.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a sarcastic smile. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Yeah, that was my A-level project and you gave me a C for it. Pretty stingy if you ask me. That bastard scratched my arms to pieces.”

“Well, it was a little clichéd,” replied Jake, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

Rob shook his head and said nothing. I pursed my lips together. I could understand why Jake would feel put out by the way I’d hugged Rob when he entered the room, but he had to understand how difficult this situation was. Bringing up events from years ago that didn’t even matter was just petty.

“We need to take Aiden into the x-ray unit now, and I think it’s best that just one person comes in with him.”

“I’ll go,” I said, stepping forward.

“Actually, I was thinking Mr Hartley would be a good choice this time. We would prefer to keep any harmful rays away from pregnant women, and it would be good for Aiden to spend a little time with his father.” Dr Schaffer offered a small, half-apologetic smile.

“Is that okay, Em?” Rob said.

The familiarity of him calling me Em gave me a little jolt of surprise. “Of course.” I bent down lower to talk to Aiden. “I’ll be right out here, waiting for you. Dad will be with you, though. You’re going to do just fine.”

I couldn’t stop talking to him as if he was still six. He was a teenager. Sixteen years old. He could legally have sex; he could legally be a father and be married. The thought made me feel sick.

“He doesn’t like to be touched, Rob. Stay close to him though, all right? I want you to stay close to him so he knows he’s loved.”

Rob nodded as he followed the doctor and my son through the double doors. I wanted to melt onto the hospital floor.

“Come on,” said Jake. “We’ll get a cup of tea and sit down.”

I wanted to shout at Jake for what he had said to Rob, but instead I let him lead me away with his hand on the small of my back. Perhaps I was too tired to argue. Perhaps I needed someone to lead me, to tell me what to do. I didn’t have the brain power to do it myself. All my thoughts were consumed by that blank expression on Aiden’s face.





9


It would be easier to say that I was so focussed on Aiden coming back, and the things he had been through, that I barely noticed Rob’s reintroduction into my life, but that would be a lie. Rob’s presence affected me more than I was willing to admit at the time. For one thing, seeing him brought me some comfort. At one time, Rob’s resemblance to Aiden had brought me nothing but pain, and it was one of the reasons why he left in the first place. But now I looked at him and saw what I hoped Aiden could one day be: confident, amiable, and overall, kind.

Yes, Rob had gone through a rebellious phase, and no, he was not the kind of boyfriend you took home to your parents, but Rob had something of the artist in him. The rest was Viking. He had a hot temper and would have been at home with the fighting and fucking of that ancient society, but deep down he had a sensitive nature and a strong sense of loyalty. He was a protective presence in my life. At least, he had been, until Aiden disappeared.

We saw Aiden in each other and it drove us both mad. I felt like half a person after I thought Aiden had drowned in the flood, and I imagine Rob felt the same. We should have made each other whole by joining our broken selves together. But for whatever reason it didn’t work like that. We only reminded each other of what we had lost and eventually we had to part. Couples who lose a child often separate. We were one of those couples.

But now our child had come back. What did that mean for us?

Those were the thoughts running through my mind as I waited with Jake, my husband, for Aiden’s tests to be finished. When Jake passed me a cup of weak tea, I forced myself to stop thinking about Rob and concentrate on the man before me, the man whose daughter was in my womb, who had fixed me when I was broken, rather than running away. He was the man I should be thinking about. He was the man who should make my heart skip a beat.

“I can’t wait until this is all over and we can bring Aiden home,” I said, sipping on my tea. I flinched as it burned my tongue, and blew softly over the liquid.

Sarah A. Denzil's books