The Unsung Hero

‘Of course it has. And if you calmed down and tried using your brain for half a minute, you’d see why. Think about it.’

‘What does he need to think about?’ Jet’s tone was wary.

‘Matt,’ Max said heavily. ‘What life was like for us all when he died.’

Rick looked up at the ceiling. He didn’t realise how hard his fists were clenched until the ache reached his elbows.

Unbearable, that’s what it had been like. Matt had been the final member of their group. The youngest by a few months and a bit smaller but he’d made up for his lack of height with an extra dose of daring and humour and intelligence. Life had been the ultimate adventure for Matt but he had died, tragically, when a brain aneurysm had not been diagnosed in time to save him, despite the warning symptoms. They had all been newly qualified doctors at the time. The remaining three, aching with such a loss, had all blamed themselves in some way for his death.

‘You hit the books, I seem to remember,’ Jet said slowly. ‘We hardly saw you.’

‘And you burned off your grief getting your black belt in that martial arts thing.’ Max nodded. ‘And Rick? Do you remember what he did?’

‘Drank a lot,’ Jet said promptly. ‘And partied like there was no tomorrow.’

‘Exactly.’

The satisfied note in Max’s voice was more than irritating.

‘There’s no “exactly” about it,’ Rick informed them. ‘I’m careful. Even if I’m drunk I’m careful.’

‘Can you honestly put your hand on your heart and swear there might not have been an occasion then when you found you didn’t have anything on hand or were just too blasé to care?’

Rick said nothing. The truth was that that period of time was pretty much a blur now. He’d been trying to forget and it had been a successful mission. He closed his eyes slowly.

Too many parties. Too much alcohol. Way too many girls and most of them had been blue-eyed blondes. Max had married a woman with chestnut hair. Jet thought the darker the better but Rick had always gone for blondes. That particular period wasn’t an indication of how he usually treated women, however, and even now he could feel shame at the way he’d used those girls.

One-night stands had been all that he could do. He’d had enough emotional rubbish to deal with without inviting any more into his life. All he’d wanted had been the temporary release that sex could provide and if it wasn’t enough for the partner, she’d got brushed aside. Names? As much of a blur as the faces. Pick a girl’s name, he thought wearily. Any name could be a contender. Annabelle or Casey or Lisa or…or Lucy. Yes. If Sarah’s sister had been at one of those parties and had been willing, he would have taken advantage of her.

Of course he couldn’t swear to anything and his friends knew it. Maybe talking about this wasn’t such a good idea. It certainly wasn’t helping. Any second now and Jet was going to be taking the side Max was on. The dark side. Rick needed to be alone. A stiff drink or two and some peace and quiet and maybe he could parcel up this feeling of dread and make it go away somehow.

‘Condoms aren’t a magic bullet, anyway,’ Max continued. ‘You know that. They can fail. Or break. How many times have we congratulated ourselves on our hassle-free record? Or so we thought.’

Jet whistled silently. ‘Oh, man…Is this going where I think it’s going?’

Max didn’t seem to have heard him. He was still talking directly to Rick. ‘Lucy looked just like her sister. Maybe your memory of ten-plus years ago is understandably hazy but what about a few hours ago? Your tongue was practically hanging out of your mouth the instant you clapped eyes on Sarah.’

‘Sarah?’ Jet was sitting very still now. Making sense of what was happening around him.

‘Lucy was Sarah’s sister,’ Max said more quietly. ‘Josh’s mother.’

‘Holy cow! And she thinks Rick’s the father?’

‘He could be,’ Max agreed.

‘She’s wrong,’ Rick said at the same time.

‘How do you know?’ Jet asked Rick.

‘I just do.’ Rick knew his tone was desperate. He didn’t know, did he? He just couldn’t begin to imagine the repercussions if she was right. To be presented with a nine-year-old kid? A sick kid? To know that the boy had been in the world for so long and he hadn’t even known he’d existed? No. There was no way to get his head around this.

Max and Jet exchanged a glance.

‘The solution’s simple,’ Jet said. ‘Three letters, mate. DNA.’

Max stepped towards Rick and gripped his upper arm. ‘He’s right. The possibility is there and a kid’s life might depend on it. If nothing else, you can set the record straight and Sarah can keep hunting.’

Yes. There was definitely a possibility there. One that might let him off the hook completely.

‘Fine. I’ll do the damn test.’

The thought that it might exonerate him kept him going until he reached home. The long hours of a solitary, sleepless night, however, put a far more negative spin on the plan.

Maybe fate had it in for him. Perhaps this was his punishment for that wild, irresponsible few months until he’d got both his head and his act back together. And what a punishment it would be. The effect it could have on his life was potentially catastrophic. Having a child could have a major impact on career choices, finances, relationships…

Being a father.

Oh, man…that was a minefield and a half. He couldn’t do it. He had no idea of how a father should behave. He only had to think of his own father to know how they shouldn’t behave but that was no help. His mates wouldn’t be able to help either, would they? They’d all had way less than perfect family lives, which was why they’d all been sent off to boarding school and ended up forging their bond. The kind of family that meant something.

Max would think he’d know but he was getting in on the ground floor with Mattie, wasn’t he? He hadn’t been presented with a child who was old enough to judge performance and find it lacking. Old enough to get hurt, dammit.

It would be a disaster for everybody involved but most especially Josh, who most certainly didn’t need that in his life on top of everything else. He couldn’t do it to him. But if he did turn out to be Josh’s father, he’d have no choice.

The endless merry-go-round of thoughts and emotions finally slowed as dawn broke and in those quiet minutes as a new day was born, Rick found a solution.

If his irresponsibility had created a child and fate had decreed that he could help him in some way, then of course he would do it. Josh didn’t have to know where the bone marrow was coming from. If he didn’t know that his biological father was involved, Rick wouldn’t have to try and be the person Josh would want his father to be. He wouldn’t have to hurt the kid by trying…and failing. It would be kinder all round, really.

Much kinder.

The attraction had been snuffed out. As cleanly as a lamp being switched off. There wasn’t even a flicker of it to be seen when Rick came to the ward the following morning.

He didn’t come into Josh’s room. Just gave Sarah a curt nod through the window and then waited for her to join him in the relative privacy of the corridor.

‘I’ve sorted the tests,’ he told her. ‘DNA, blood and tissue typing. You’ll have to wait for the results.’

‘Thank you.’

It was such an inadequate thing to say. She could see how huge this had been for him. Rick looked as though he hadn’t slept a wink. There were shadows under his eyes and more lines around them than she remembered. It really wasn’t fair that it only added to his appeal or that his appeal for her was still there when it had totally gone from his side of the equation.

She’d done her own share of thinking last night. Imagining Lucy with Rick. Feeling disturbingly…envious.

Just as well that Rick had shut off that static of sexual awareness. They could be colleagues now. A step up from total strangers but new enough to still have to earn trust. And that wasn’t going to be easy because Rick’s demeanour suggested she’d already had his trust and couldn’t have broken it more effectively.

Fair enough. She had tipped his life upside down. Taken away his carefree existence. Put a huge spoke in the entire wheel of his universe, probably.

‘Don’t go getting your hopes up too much,’ Rick warned.

‘I won’t.