George...

His name was George, and he lived to the age of 2. He's a ghost, an echo of her past, reminding her why she had to wait so long to be a mother.

Connie had been down in the dumps all day, and no one really knew why. She'd been snappier than her usual brisk self, and on several occasions today seemed to be on the verge of tears. Her usual determination had been replaced with a fierce sluggishness, her temper shortened and her patience running on a thread. Connie Beauchamp was a woman not to be crossed today.

Some colleagues put it down to nasty PMT, but Elliot seemed to see through that. They'd been through some tough times together with the whole Liberte incident with Gina, and seemed to be each other's anchor to the real world when they found it hard to escape their own little bubble. They often found themselves confiding in each other, and supporting each other through the many tough times that they had shared in those few years that they had experienced ever since they made a deal to share an office.

He knew when she was holding something back, and he could sense that she was now.

Deciding to broach the subject gently, Elliot found her in their office, slumped over her desk, a picture in her hand, and tears in her eyes.

'Oh Connie,' he replied, taking a seat beside her. 'You've been so awfully down today. Please tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help?'

'You can't,' she replied softly. 'It's in the past, nothing can be changed.'

'But, I think you'll find that an ear like my own will listen, and make you feel a little better,' replied Elliot. 'I'll listen, I don't get distracted easily. Except when there's food. Ooh, Chinese!'

Rolling her eyes, Connie laughed and said, 'You always know how to cheer me up. What would I do without you?'

'Go insane without my food related humour,' he replied with a grin. 'I'm being serious Connie, I will listen, Scouts Honour.'

'It's someone's anniversary today,' said Connie after a brief pause.

'Why does that make you sad?' he asked. 'Your parents?'

'No,' she said solemnly, shaking her head. 'An anniversary of death.'

'Ohhh,' replied Elliot quietly, bowing his head in reflection. 'Who was it?'

Handing him the picture, Connie said, 'My son, George. He would've been about 10 now.'

'He's a good looking chap,' remarked Elliot at the photo. 'What happened to him?'

'Tay Sachs,' said Connie softly, stroking the photo between her fingers. 'Genetic unluck, or so I was told. We had 2 years to spend with him, and we tried to relish every moment. I resigned from my job in London to care for him, but Michael just wasn't interested. Having a disabled child not far from death's door was not a son he could gloat about becoming a famous surgeon or a footballer. But I didn't care, I just wanted to be with him every moment of the day. I loved him.'

'And Michael didn't?' asked Elliot.

'I'm sure that somewhere, deep down, he did. But he never showed it. George used to reach out to him, feebly, but nonetheless. Michael wouldn't even hold him, it was like he was ashamed of him. George lost his sight, his hearing, his ability to swallow, his muscles atrophied, he couldn't move at all,' said Connie sadly. 'But that's where Michael and I differed. I didn't care that George was ill, and didn't look like the other boys, he was a part of me, and I loved him. Michael was shallow like that.'

'So he died?' asked Elliot.

'When he was 2,' said Connie. 'Half of his life expectancy. His prognosis wasn't amazing, but we were told that he might live until he was 4. But we lost him a few months after his 2nd birthday. I can safely say that's what ruined Michael's and my marriage. I was too grief stricken to do anything really, but Michael wanted me to go back to normal straight away. He was relieved in a way that George as a burden was gone. Because I wouldn't sleep with him, he looked elsewhere. I couldn't bear to think that it was our genes that condemned George to suffer like that. I knew that I couldn't have children with him, I couldn't take the risk.'

'And so you waited...' said Elliot.

'Yes,' replied Connie. 'I have no idea why I waited so long. I think that I needed to come to terms with George's death, build on my career a bit. After George died, I had to take a demotion to get back into work, and after everything that had happened, my ambition skyrocketed. I still wanted children, but I think that I needed time to heal. And now I have Grace, she's healthy, and I'm happy.'

'I'm glad to hear,' replied Elliot. 'I know why you're upset today, but why have we never seen it before?'

'I keep it well hidden,' replied Connie. 'But this year, the patient we're treating, Grant Berry, age 2 with Tay Sachs. It just brought everything to the surface.'

'I understand,' said Elliot. 'Be strong, because George will never be gone from your memories and you heart.'