Mrs Walters said nothing, but her face went a very dull red.
‘I might add that it’s highly unlikely Felicity caught the virus from her brother—a virus tends to do the rounds and spread very quickly. She could have caught it from a dozen or more different people. So right now I think your son needs a bit of reassurance—a hug from his mum—and to know that he’s loved.’ Something he hadn’t had at Simon’s age—though he was old enough to be over that.
Mrs Walters glared at him, but he could see the guilt starting as his words sank in. Even though he wanted to yell at her, he was aware of his reasons, and reined himself in. Time to be kind. Show a bit of sympathy, he reminded himself. Do what Katrina, with her warmth and sweetness, would do. ‘And I think you’ll find it’ll help you, too. Because Simon will hug you back and give you a bit of comfort in return.’ Katrina had taught him the power of a hug.
Mrs Walters’s face crumpled and she burst into tears.
Oh, lord. He’d wanted to stop her yelling at her little boy, but this hadn’t been quite what he’d intended. Awkwardly, Rhys took the box of tissues from his desk and offered it to her. And when she’d calmed down again, he took her back to the ward.
He’d expected Lynne to be sitting with Simon and Felicity, but instead the little boy was sitting on Katrina’s lap.
‘Thanks for looking after Simon for us,’ he said to Katrina.
‘No problem. We’ve had a lovely time.’ She smiled back at him. ‘And Felicity’s holding her own.’
‘Good.’ Rhys crouched down so he was at the little boy’s height. ‘Are you all right there, Simon?’ he asked softly.
The little boy nodded, wide-eyed. ‘Dr Katrina told me a story.’
‘She’s really good at that.’ Rhys ruffled his hair. ‘Hey, I know it’s a bit scary, seeing your baby sister here with all these tubes and wires and machines beeping, but she’s going to be absolutely fine. And I want you to know that it’s not your fault your sister caught pneumonia.’
‘Mummy said…’ The little boy’s lower lip wobbled.
‘Your mummy was very worried and scared, just like you are, and sometimes people say things they don’t mean when they’re worried and scared,’ Rhys said. ‘But I’m a doctor. My job is to make people better, and I’m going to make Felicity better. Your mummy understands that now. And it really isn’t your fault. It’s the time of year when there are lots of bugs about, and Felicity’s very little, so she can’t fight the bugs as well as you and I can.’
The little boy dragged in a breath. ‘So she’s not going to die?’
‘She’s not going to die.’ Not like Gwyneth had. Advances in medicine would make sure of that. ‘All those tubes and wires you can see are there to help her breathe more easily, to help her get enough food, and so we can keep an eye on her and give her medicine when we need to, to make her better,’ Rhys said gently. ‘And she’s not the only one in the ward like this. There are five other babies in this bay who have a similar sort of thing to your sister. Some are more poorly, and some are a bit better because they got the bugs a bit earlier than Felicity did and they’re already on the mend.’
The little boy nodded, but said nothing.
‘I think your mummy wants a word,’ he said, and looked at Mrs Walters.
She followed his lead and crouched down by the little boy, hugging him. ‘I’m sorry I shouted at you, Simon. Dr Morgan’s right. I was worried and I took it out on you and that was wrong of me. It isn’t your fault—and I do love you. I really do.’
Rhys gave an approving nod—and then walked quietly to the safety of his office, knowing that he needed five minutes to himself before he could face the ward again.
Something was definitely wrong, Katrina thought. Even though Rhys had been perfectly in control and hadn’t even raised his voice, she’d seen something in his eyes. And he’d been even quieter than usual for the last couple of days.
She went to his office, and blinked in surprise. Since when had Rhys shut his office door?
Worried, she knocked on the door, but she also walked in without waiting for him to say anything and closed the door behind her.
‘You’re not all right, so don’t tell me you are,’ she said, seeing the expression on his face. ‘What’s happened?’
He turned away; she was fairly sure he said something but she didn’t quite catch it. ‘I can’t hear you, Rhys. You were mumbling and I couldn’t see your mouth to read what you just said. Please, can you look at me and repeat that?’ she asked, her voice soft but clear.