‘Not if he wanted to protect his privacy. His dignity.’ She shook her head. ‘He was an amateur racing car enthusiast, Lukas. The media were seriously attracted to him. Almost as much as you. Can you imagine if you were in an accident? The lengths they would go to get to you? In the first few days alone, after Edward’s accident, we caught three reporters or photographers dressed up as hospital porters, or a nurse, just to get in and get a photo of him. One of them even succeeded.’
He remembered it in that instant, the image flashing into his mind, making him wonder how he’d forgotten it. He’d been hooked up to machines and surrounded by tubes and wires. If it were himself, he could see how it would unnerve the board at LVW Industries.
‘So the photo of him in a coma, four years ago, wasn’t released by the family, as was claimed?’ Lukas realised with a jolt.
‘No, it was not. Not even my father would admit to Edward’s condition, even for money.’
This was what Oti had gone through? Having to deal with a relentless press whilst trying to come to terms with the seriousness of her brother’s accident. Especially after losing her mother six years earlier.
‘We had him moved to a private, very discreet medical facility. Fortunately, as company founder, he had the highest level of medical cover. Plus, the board wanted to keep the extent of his injuries concealed until they knew more, so as not to frighten any shareholders. Which was fortunate, since I can’t imagine my father had the means or the inclination to pay for Edward’s treatment.’
Neither could Lukas, but he wisely stayed silent.
‘At first, all I prayed for was that he would wake up. Then, when he couldn’t feel anything, I prayed that it was just bruising. We kept hoping that once the swelling went down he would be okay, albeit with rehabilitation. By the time we realised the full extent of his injuries, Edward had decided that he didn’t want anyone to know until he had come to terms with it himself, and the board agreed. It was decided that, as the press would be relentless in trying to get a photo of him as long as they knew he was alive, it was easier to pretend otherwise.’
‘And your father?’
‘He was only too happy to wash his hands of a son with a disability.’ Finally, she couldn’t keep the bitterness from her tone.
She looked so broken and defeated, so unlike the woman he’d imagined she was. And suddenly all Lukas wanted to do was go to her, scoop her into his arms and take all her pain away.
He had no idea where that came from.
Not least because he never allowed himself to feel anything. It made no sense.
‘Is that why you started volunteering in South Sudan?’
‘I wouldn’t have, if Edward hadn’t banned me from even visiting him for the first two years.’ She jerked her head up, her tone defensive.
‘I wasn’t attacking you.’
She eyed him warily, and he found he didn’t much like that either.
‘I had to get away. I needed to do something meaningful. And, although I’d managed to drop off the media’s radar for years, without
Edward to pursue any more, they turned their attention back to me.’
‘I believe there were articles,’ he mused, ‘and photos of wild parties and reckless behaviour.’
‘Old photos that hadn’t been released before.’ She looked embarrassed nonetheless. ‘I suspect people released them for money. Maybe even my father. And I could have fought them, but what would have been the point? People only want the salacious story. The pictures were of me—no one really cared whether they were out of date or not. Besides, I earned my wild-child reputation by my own actions.’
There was such a bleak turn to her countenance that it scraped at something inside Lukas. He couldn’t have said why he suspected there was far more to the story. Nor could he explain how he knew that now wasn’t the time to press her on it. So instead he asked her something else.
‘You said the money I gave you is for Edward?’
‘There’s an operation.’ She scrunched up her face and he got the impression that she was trying to decide how best to explain it.
He, a man who usually had to explain the intricate workings of computer programming or robotic workings to others. It might have been amusing, under other circumstances.
‘There’s a new operation. A combined nerve and tendon transfer, which could help him. Possibly. There’s no guarantee. It’s in clinical trials.’
‘So he’s in a trial?’
‘No, the nature of his injuries mean that he isn’t eligible for the trials. But we can still pay privately. I just didn’t have a way of guaranteeing the money and so I couldn’t even get him to agree to have an assessment to see if he would be a good candidate.’
‘And now you have my money.’
‘I won’t apologise, Lukas.’ She glowered.