Playing Nice

Miles shrugged. “Our lawyer thinks it’s better to sue both, from a tactical point of view. After all, we can’t prove exactly where the mix-up happened. Better to let them fight it out between themselves. And at the end of the day, the NHS has deeper pockets.”

“I’m not sure I’d be happy about suing the NHS. As a taxpayer-funded service, I mean,” I said uneasily.

Miles looked at me fondly over the top of his pint. “You know what, Pete? I’m coming to realize something about you, which is that you are a really decent bloke. I admire that. But I also know you’d do anything for Theo, am I right? And the way I look at it is, if I can make you and Maddie just a little bit wealthier, or at least more comfortably off, I’ll be doing something for Theo, too. As well as removing one of the biggest difficulties about this whole situation.”

“Which is?”

“Well.” Miles had the grace to look awkward. “That it’s currently somewhat…asymmetric.”

“Asymmetric?” I echoed.

“Yes. To put it bluntly, we’ve got more money than you have. And obviously, I’d hate to see Theo being held back because of lack of funds. With the payout in your bank account, conversations like the one we had the other day about schools are going to be a whole lot easier, am I right?”

“Not wanting Theo to go to boarding school isn’t about money.”

“Maybe not at the moment. But when you can afford the best education money can buy, perhaps you’ll view things differently. All I’m saying is, it’ll give you options, and that can’t be a bad thing, can it?”

I felt we were getting into dangerous territory. “Look, I’ll talk to Maddie about litigation. But not schools. A boarding school is completely out of the question.”

Miles held up his hand, the one that wasn’t wrapped around his glass, in a gesture of surrender. “Of course. Your call entirely, Pete. So it’s a yes to suing, but a no to Hogwarts. Another pint?”

“Yes. But this time it’s my round,” I said firmly.

* * *

—

THAT ONE DISAGREEMENT ASIDE, we got on surprisingly well, given the difference in our backgrounds. Three pints in I realized we’d better steer clear of politics, after I mentioned Vladimir Putin and Miles frowned. “Say what you like about the oligarchs, Pete, but at least they’ve put that country back together.” Mostly, though, we talked about our children. Miles never tired of quizzing me about Theo’s achievements—“Can he jump with both feet yet? Stand on one foot? What’s he like on monkey bars?”—although I noticed he was far more interested in physical milestones than social ones. It would have been awkward not to reciprocate about David, so rather than ask about his progress, which would inevitably have led to negative comparisons with Theo, I asked what he was interested in.

“Oh, you know,” Miles said. “Movement. Tops and spinners and things like that. Poor little chap.”

“Right,” I said. There didn’t seem to be anywhere to go with that.

“You know, the worst thing about it is what it’s done to Lucy.” Miles’s tone was suddenly serious. “She’s not like your Maddie. She’s…fragile. And having a child like David brings out her anxious side. It’s made her overprotective, I suppose.”

To break the silence, I said, “Actually, Maddie isn’t as tough as she looks. She really suffered after the NICU. I won’t go into details but…it wasn’t easy for her. And all parents are overprotective, I think. I once lost Theo for twenty minutes in Sainsbury’s, and it was one of the most terrifying things that’s ever happened to me. It turned out he’d only wandered off to look for cartoons on the back of cereal packets, but…” I shook my head. I was a little drunk now, unable to articulate the full horror of that time, the sudden irrational fear that Theo might have been abducted or hit by a car in the car park. “It was visceral. That was one of the things that made me realize…It’s not about genetics, is it? It’s about who you love.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Miles clinked his glass against mine. “?‘To love.’?”

We both drank. “Though a social scientist would probably say this is quite an interesting experiment,” he added.

“How so?”

“You know—nature versus nurture, all that stuff. Will our children take after their biological parents, or will they be shaped by their environments? Or, to put it another way, will Theo turn out to be a driven, competitive little bugger like me, or an all-around decent bloke like you?” He nodded. “You should write about that. It’d make an interesting article.”

“Maybe they’ll get the best of both worlds,” I said. “Drive and decency.”

Miles laughed. “Exactly the answer I would have expected an all-around decent bloke to give. Come on, let’s get another.”

* * *

—

AND THEN THERE WAS a moment, halfway through the fourth and last pint of the evening, when—our tongues loosened by drink—we were reliving the drama of our first meeting. It seemed almost funny now, looking back.

“You know what I thought, when you first told me Theo was your son?” I demanded.

Miles shook his head. “Elucidate me, Pete. Whadidya think, when I first told you Theo was my son?”

“Just for a moment, I thought you meant you’d shagged Maddie. That you and she…” I shook my head in disbelief at how stupid I’d been. “So that’s a silver lining, anyway.”

“True,” Miles said sagely. “Silver lining for you, anyway. But I tell you what, Pete old son.” He swayed in close and whispered in my ear. “I. Totally. Would. She’s gorgeous. And ballsy with it. You are a lucky bastard, Pete. A very lucky bastard.” He stuck out his hand for me to shake. “Congratulations. You got the girl. You got the kid. Well done.”

21

Case no. 12675/PU78B65, Exhibit 15: Extracts from the internet history of Peter Riley.

Secret Escapes, retrieved 23:12 P.M.:

Tremerrion House, Trevose Head, Cornwall: This stunning property offers up to ten guests luxury self-catering accommodation just a stone’s throw from the sea and the South West Coastal Path. From ï¿¡8,400 pw (low season). Check availability here.

Washington Post, retrieved 23:18 P.M.:

MOTHER OF SWITCHED BABY SUES FOR $31M

The mother of a girl switched at birth with another baby is suing the Virginia hospital she claims is responsible for $31 million, to compensate her for the pain and suffering she says the mix-up inflicted. The other family involved has already accepted a multimillion-dollar settlement from the state.

The Guardian, retrieved 00:14 A.M.:

“STAGGERING” RISE IN NHS PAYOUTS BLAMED ON NO-FEE LAWYERS

A total of ï¿¡22.7 billion—nearly one-fifth of the health service’s annual budget—is being set aside each year to settle compensation claims, new figures have revealed.

Experts last night said the scale of the NHS’s liabilities was “staggering,” with English damages now among the highest in the world.

MPs and other commentators have blamed the courts, saying that the UK’s broad definitions of medical negligence and malpractice, along with the rise of no-win no-fee legal firms, have made litigation “almost ridiculously easy.”

22

MADDIE

I’M IN BED WHEN Pete stumbles in from his drink with Miles. I’m not asleep, but I’ve finished most of a bottle of wine myself and don’t feel like chatting, let alone cuddling, so I don’t answer when he whispers, “You awake, babe?”

By half past five, Theo’s wriggling into our bed. We both try to ignore him, but there’s only so long you can ignore being hit over the head with a woolly rabbit. Eventually I give up and turn over. Luckily, Pete succumbed just before I did. Theo is now straddling his stomach as if riding a horse, impatiently bouncing his bottom whenever Pete stops jiggling.

“How was last night?” I say blearily.

“It was all right.” Pete thinks for a moment. “He brought up schools again.”

“Bloody hell. What did you say?”

“A very firm no. Ouff! Gently, Theo.”

“Did he get the message this time?”

Pete yawns. “Yes, actually. Took it quite well. That’s the thing about these City types. They don’t go in for nuance. You have to be forceful with them.”

“Well, I’m glad you were forceful.”

Pete gives me a look, unsure if I’m teasing. “We talked about suing St. Alexander’s, too.”

“Gee up, Daddeee,” Theo complains. Reluctantly, Pete resumes bucking.

“And?”

“Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. Quite apart from anything else, it’ll level the playing field between us and them. Stop it being quite so asymmetric.”

I consider. “Well, it’ll make Dad happy. And he did say he’d send us money for a lawyer.”

“I don’t think we’ll need it. The solicitors Miles are using are no-win no-fee. If we use someone from the same firm, he thinks they can coordinate to get us both the best payout.”

I nod. I’ve never shared Pete’s qualms about suing a hospital anyway. Like many Brits, he seems to have a love-hate relationship with the National Health Service, both incredibly proud of it in principle and totally despairing and frustrated by it in practice. To me, it seems no different from suing any other large organization that’s made a mistake. But I am a bit surprised that Miles has managed to get Pete to overcome his scruples so quickly.

23