Assumptions and Deliberations

They'd taken Max into theatre. The MRI had shown nothing untoward for which everyone, other Max, too impressed by the enormous machine to care, was appropriately grateful. While they were waiting for Jo and a nurse to manoeuvre the child gingerly into one of the open-backed hospital gowns, a waiting theatre technician told him that children of Max's age often fell over and broke small bones, due to insufficient bone mass. Greg was only half listening to her as a wave of tiredness had him blinking like an owl. If he was going to be any use to anyone, he needed coffee and he needed it now. He drew in a sharp breath and rubbed his eyes.

"Would you mind letting Joanna know that I'm off to get something hot to drink?" he asked when the woman looked at him, concerned. "After all the drama tonight, I'm suddenly feeling a bit tired."

She smiled. "I hear you," she said. "Best to go to the café, one floor down. The stuff in the vending machines isn't anywhere near strong enough to help," she added. "Trust me, hospital staff know all about staying awake. I'll let your wife know where you've gone."

Nodding silently, Greg trudged to the nearest lift, too drained even to look for the stairs. On reaching the first floor, he followed his nose to a still-bustling cafeteria. As he waited to be served, Greg checked his watch: it was well gone three in the morning. No wonder he was feeling it.

Deciding to have a sit down with a coffee here before taking another one up to Jo while they waited for Max to come out of theatre, Greg dumped sugar into his disposable cup and sank into the hard plastic seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. Rubbing his eyes again, he yawned, glancing around at the people doing much the same as he in the incongruously lit café. There were a number of staff in operating scrubs with their hair covered by light blue paper caps and nurses on their break in ward uniforms. There were a few couple of different ages; an elderly woman being comforted by a younger one, a couple of young lads who looked like rugby-players. There were even a few solitary men life him, tired and needing a stimulant to keep them awake for somebody other than themselves.

Sipping the hot and not unpleasant drink, Greg suddenly thought about the strange look Max had given him when he emerged from the X-ray room. What odd thoughts had gone through the child's mind? Why had he smiled like that? His thoughts drifted back to earlier in the evening when everyone from the cabbie to the babysitter had assumed he was Jo's ... what? Her partner? Husband? Did it even matter?

Sipping the coffee, Greg realised that it did matter. It mattered a lot. Jo had asked him what they were doing after they'd kissed in his flat. Other than the obvious, he wasn't actually sure what they had been doing. Fooling around after a little too much champagne, yeah, sure. But what else was it? Sitting in the middle of a half-filled cafeteria in the middle of the night, he tried to think back to the moment he'd started being attracted to Joanna Foy and chewed his bottom lip when he realised he couldn't remember not being attracted to her. Almost right from the start, from the first time they'd met, he'd acknowledged her as being a superior individual: caring and brave and self-sacrificing for all the right reasons. Those were all admirable qualities, but nobody fell in love with ...

His heart seemed to slow, then thumped hard, just the once, but hard enough to make him pause his deliberations. Since when had he started thinking in terms of a romantic relationship with Joanna? Neither of them had said anything about things even remotely associated with a relationship. They'd only known each other for a couple of months! Yes, of course, she'd been glad of his help with things since they'd first met, and he'd been happy to assist and felt wanted and warmed by her and her kids ... The kids. All three of them, all special in their own ways, yes. But nothing had been said ... not even thought about, at least not by him, and not before tonight. Not openly thought about, he amended.

Sitting back in his hard plastic chair, Greg frowned. Was he falling for Joanna Foy? Her children already held significant places of interest in his life and were important to him in their own individual ways, but that was simply because they'd all needed his help in one way or another and besides, he liked kids generally, didn't he? He drank his sweet coffee and thought some more, though his brain felt sluggish and uncooperative. What was he even trying to think about? Oh yeah, Jo and the kids. He liked each of them for different reasons ... but how much did he actually like them? Where was he going with all this liking? Why was he even bothering himself with these kind of complicated questions at three in the morning? He yawned again and blinked wearily. He needed another coffee and he should get back with one for Jo as well. The questions could wait.

###

He eventually caught up with her at the end of a narrow corridor, in one of the small and relatively private recovery rooms, as Max slowly regained consciousness. Handing her a hot cup of coffee, Greg leaned against the wall behind him and watched mother and son. Max was comfortably asleep, his breathing strong and regular. His face, though still swollen, had already lost some of its reddened puffiness. There was a heavy strip of reinforced white tape across his face from one cheek to the other, holding his nose absolutely immobile. The boy's left arm was propped up on a pillow, his forearm, wrist and hand encapsulated in a stiff grey plastic cast overlying a soft inner lining of mesh that cushioned everything into a firm stability. The child's expression in sleep seemed peaceful and untroubled; it seemed there was little pain, which was a relief.

Flicking his eyes to Joanna's face, Greg saw that she was not so tranquil. There were faint traces of tears still on her cheeks and her eyes flickered backwards and forwards over her son's sleeping form. Greg could only imagine her mingled sense of anxiety, guilt and relief at the situation. He got the distinct feeling that she was still troubled about the evening's drama and it dawned on him that he didn't much like her being upset.

"You heard what the doc said," he lifted a second chair into place beside Jo's. "Max'll be eating ice cream and bouncing around before you know it. He'll be the envy of all his mates and the story of him falling down the stairs will probably end up being embellished a bit more every time he tells it. You might want to call his school and let them know the real cause for the casts before he gets a chance to tell everyone about being chased by robbers with guns in a burning house."

"I know," Jo turned to meet his eyes, and yes, she did look troubled. "It's just that none of them have ever been hurt like this before, and that this happened on the night I decide to go out ..." Her eyes glinted with tears again as she shook her head. Greg inhaled slowly.

"Now listen," he said, reaching for her free hand and folding it inside one of his. "This could have happened at any time. It could even happen again if Max is so bloody daft as to leap down the stairs like he did, no, listen," he said, stopping Joanna's protestation in its tracks. Greg lifted his other hand to cup the side of her face, tilting it until she met his gaze. "The only fault here lies with Max. He did something stupid and has paid the price for his action. It's called 'growing up' and while he probably won't do anything exactly like this again, he'll do other stupid, dangerous things and will, quite likely, get into all sorts of trouble when he does them. And so will Jack and so will Beth. It's part of learning how to be an adult and sometimes, we have to make the wrong decisions before we know to make the right ones." Greg smoothed Jo's cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. "You cannot take that freedom of choice away from your kids. You have to allow them to become who they are going to be, in whatever way they end up doing things, and trying to take responsibility for their poor decisions is as bad as taking responsibility for their good ones. It can't be done, Jo. You have to allow them to fly and fall by themselves, sometimes."

"I know," Joanna sighed and nodded fractionally. "I've said almost those exact words to other people so many times but I never thought I'd need to hear them myself." She closed her eyes, resting her face momentarily in the soft warmth of his hand. "No wonder you're such a good policeman."

"Mind you, there's nothing stopping you reading Max the riot act once he's at home and feeling better," Greg reached down and squeezed her fingers. "Give them the old 'safety in the home' lecture that we got as kids, especially now that they're old enough to understand that reckless behaviour has dangerous consequences."

"They'd probably listen to it better coming from you," Joanna smiled as tension gradually eased from her shoulders. "All three hold you in enormous regard, you know."

"They're good kids," Greg turned to watch the sleeping child stir under the warm hospital blanket. "He'll be awake in a minute."

On cue, a recovery ward nurse popped into the small room. Checking the time on the wall clock, she made a small notation on Max's chart, just as the boy blinked his eyes open.

"How do you feel, Max?" the nurse smiled down at the boy. "Do you have any pain anywhere? Do you feel sick or would you like a drink?"

"My arm's aching a bit and I'd like a drink, please." The child's voice was low and husky, but the words were clear and not slurred.

"I'll be right back with some Panadol and water and a Coke." Smiling again at the seated adults, the nurse left the room as swiftly as she'd entered.

"How are you feeling, love?" Joanna leaned closer on the bed. "How's the pain?"

"S'a bit sore on my arm." Max looked down at the pillow beside him and a faint smile curved his mouth. "Everyone at school is gonna be dead jealous."

"You're going to have a nice pair of black eyes as well, old son," Greg grinned down at the boy. "Everyone's going to think you've been in a boxing match with Callum Smith."

Turning to look at his mother and then at Greg, Max smiled properly, a cheeky twitch of a grin. "Am I alright now?" he asked. "Can we go home?"

"Your mum's going home to talk to your brother and sister and get some rest, but you and me are going to hang out here together for a bit, Max, until the nurses say you're okay and then you can go and have a proper sleep in a proper bed."

About to say that she needed to stay and that he should go home, Greg caught Joanna's gaze and smiled, shaking his head. "He isn't going anywhere and you have two others who probably need a bit of reassurance from their mum," he said softly. "Your lad here is likely going to get transferred into a children's ward where he'll conk out like a baby and sleep until morning. You go home, sort out your other two and get some kip. Sort out the babysitter as well, and then come back and take over. I've had so much coffee in the last couple of hours, I doubt I'd be able to sleep now even if I wanted."

"Are you sure?" Jo assessed his expression before glancing down at Max who was dozing again. "Really sure?"

"Positive." Greg nodded, reaching for his wallet and extracted a couple of notes. "Here's enough for a taxi both ways. You toddle off and leave me and Max here have a chat, man to man, like."

"I'm not sure I want to leave him," Joanna stood reluctantly. "What if he gets upset again?"

"He won't, not now." Greg squeezed her hand. "He knows the worst is behind him and you heard him; he's already thinking what stories to tell his mates about the war-wounds. Seriously, you nip off and get your head down for a few hours. I'll stay here and make sure he's settled in a proper bed. Call me before you come back later in the morning and I can tell you if he's been moved and his bed number." Smiling easily, Greg nodded at the door. "I've done this enough times with the people on my own team," he scratched the end of his nose. "I know exactly what the process is and there's really nothing else you can do right now except sit beside him and watch him sleep. And even I can do that without messing it up. I promise you, it'll be fine."

"It's alright, Mum," Max mumbled beneath closed eyes. "Inspector Greg promises."

Seeing her child was once again drifting into sleep, Joanna took a deep breath and nodded once, decisively. "Okay, I'll do that. I expect the other two are worried about their brother, but you must swear that if anything happens, you'll call me immediately."

"Promise." Greg folded his arms and relaxed back in the armchair beside the bed. "I'll be with him all the way."

"Okay then. I won't be away long." Joanna leaned over and pressed a light kiss to her boy's brow before resting a hand briefly on Greg's shoulder as she left the room, the faint pressure of her touch conveying far more than mere thanks.

"Okeydokey Maxi boy. It's just thee and me now, for a while." Greg looked at the drowsing child, wondering how long it would be before he tried to pull the tape off his face. If there was one thing Greg knew all about, it was how boys thought. He smiled to himself as the nurse walked back in with a glass of water, a cold can of Coke and a tiny plastic container holding two small white capsules.

"Asleep again?" The nursed turned to smile at the man she assumed to be the child's father. "He'll pick right up after a good night's rest," she said. "Normally, any children we get here in Guy's emergency are transferred to the Evelina Children's Hospital down the road by St. Thomas's, but it's hardly worth it given that we'll be discharging him in twenty-four hours or less," she said. "Here's a couple of children's Panadol for him when he's ready for some pain relief, though sleep is probably for the best if he can get it." The nurse looked at Greg with a critical eye. "And you look nearly out on your feet as well. You really don't need to stay if you'd like to go home and get some sleep yourself," she said. "I'll be in and out of here with your boy until the shift changes at seven o'clock in the morning. You don't need to stay."

Looking up into the sincere gaze of the night nurse and then across to the sleeping child, Greg thought for a moment. "Yeah, I do," he shrugged as the nurse headed for the door. "I promised."

The room was warm and quiet and Greg found himself relaxing back into the upholstered chair. If Max was going to sleep, he might even be able to catch a few minutes kip himself, something he'd long ago learned how to do during the interminable hours of an overnight stakeout.

"My mum really likes you, I can tell." Max's eyes were wide open and staring his way as Greg turned his head. "She likes it when you help her with things like tonight. I think she would have been scared otherwise, 'cos she gets worried about stuff, 'specially about Beth, 'cos she's a girl." The child yawned and blinked sleepily.

"Is your arm hurting you, Max?" Greg leaned closer to examine the boy's expression beneath the concealing slab of tape. "The nurse left some tablets if you've got any pain. You want me to help you with them now before you go back to sleep again?"

"My head hurts a bit," Max frowned as his uninjured hand cautiously explored the top of his head. "I've got a big bump."

"Right then, we'll get these into you and you can have a drink of water or Coke if you're thirsty." Greg reached for the bed's automatic lifting control on its long cable, pressing the 'Up' icon, slowly bringing the head of Max's bed into a more upright position.

"Cor, that's dead bangin'," the boy smiled. "Can I have a go?"

"Maybe tomorrow, when your head isn't hurting so much." Greg cracked the Coke open as he held out the small container of pills. "Take one at a time and have a swig of this to wash them down," he said, watching the child for any evidence of difficulty swallowing the medication. "Do you need to go to the toilet before you go to sleep?"

"Nah. Mum took me earlier. It's my birthday next week," he added, out of the blue.

"Is it?" Greg returned to his armchair. "You'll be seven, right?"

"Yeah. Mum said she'll take me and my friends back to that pizza place for a birthday treat, an' we can all make our own special pizzas. I'm going to have a red one this time," he yawned again. "But I'm having my cake at home. Will you come and have some of my cake, Inspector Greg?"

Smiling as he lowered the bed back down and twitched the child's blanket into place, Greg retook his seat. "Yes Max, I'll have some of your cake if your mum says I can."

"She will. You promise?"

"I promise Max. Go to sleep."

"Okay. Night Dad."

Greg's eyes blinked wide.

###

It was right on eight-thirty the next morning when Joanna made her way back to the hospital. Having already phoned Greg just after seven, she was aware that Max was being kept in the same small room he was in the previous night, and would likely stay there unless the space was needed, in which case, they'd move him over to the children's hospital for the Saturday night.

"The good news is that Max slept well and has not required any further pain relief after last night," the ward nurse guided Joanna back the way she'd left several hours earlier. Though she was paler than usual with shadows beneath her eyes, Jo felt a great deal better after a little sleep and a hot shower. She'd thanked Jan the babysitter profusely and sent her off with a large tip, but instead of leaving Beth and Jack at home, she'd brought them with her to see their brother.

"It's just around there," the nurse indicated the little room tucked away at the end of a series of similar rooms. "See if Max feels up to a shower or wants to wait until he gets home. The doctor will be coming to see him around nine and you can discuss any questions or concerns you have with her then."

"Thank you," Joanna was grateful for the thoughtfulness. "Everyone has been so kind and helpful, though it'll be good to get Max back home." Turning towards the room she'd left nearly five hours earlier, she wrinkled her forehead as she saw Jack and Beth standing in the open doorway wearing matching grins. Beth beckoned her, at the same time raising an upright index finger to her lips. On reaching the doorway and peering inside, Jo found herself smiling as well. Max was fast asleep, still lying on his back in a nest of pillows, snoring faintly, though this was not the cause of the Foy's amusement.

Also asleep, his head cushioned on a wadded-up pillow next to Max's, his upper body half-sprawled, half-resting against the slightly raised bed, Greg was out for the count.

Joanna silently ushered her two eldest back into the corridor. "You pair stay here while I go and get Greg a coffee," she murmured. "He's been up all night with your brother so it's no wonder he's dropped off. Don't wake him up with any noise, okay? And no laughing at him either," she paused, before handing her daughter her mobile. "Though if you want to take a picture of them asleep together, I won't mind," she added, raising a finger to her lips. "Quiet now and stay here until I get back. I'll only be a couple of minutes."

Peering around the side of the door, Jack plastered both hands tight across his face so as not to giggle and wake the sleeping beauties. Turning and grinning at his sister who pulled him out of the way as she leaned in and snapped off several shots. Together, they leaned back against the outside wall of the room and muffled sniggers behind their fingers.

They were still grinning at each other when their mother returned bearing two cups of steaming coffee. Standing a little way off in the corridor, Joanna greeted her children in a slightly louder-than-usual tone.

"Yes, Jack," she said, winking at him. "The nurse did say it was the room at the end. I was here last night with your brother ..." After waiting a few seconds, Joanna felt Greg had had sufficient warning and without further ado, walked into the room.

Once more leaning back in the upholstered chair with folded arms and a suspiciously wide-awake expression, Greg's vigilant demeanour was betrayed by a vertical tuft of hair on the side of his head. Keeping her expression neutral, Joanna handed him both cups as she went to inspect her youngest offspring in closer detail. His forehead felt warm but not overly hot. The cold clammy feeling from the previous night had gone and Max appeared to be sleeping perfectly normally with no sign of suffering or distress on his face. The knot in her stomach, present since the first of his screams the previous evening, finally unravelled. As if knowing he was under intense maternal scrutiny, her son's eyes cracked open.

"I'm hungry." A sign in its own right that things were becoming as they should be, Joanna smoothed her boy's hair gently away from his forehead.

"And good morning to you as well," she smiled, kissing his head. "You shall have something to eat as soon as the nurse says you can," she added, noting the bruises already appearing under and around the curve of his eyes. Greg was right: she would have to let Max's school know before he started making up any dramatic stories. "How do you feel now? Does it hurt anywhere?"

"No. Only in my tummy because it's empty." The unlikely combination of Max's grin, the wide strip of heavy tape and the incipient bruising had her shaking her head, amused.

"He slept like a baby all night." Greg handed Joanna a cup back as he took a swig of the other, closing his eyes in relief as the mild stimulant did its thing. "And he snores," he added, rolling his eyes and giving Max a sideways look.

"Well, with you being awake the whole time, I'm sure it didn't bother you too much," Joanna glanced at her two eldest with wide eyes.

"When can I come home, Mum?" Max found the bed controls and was already moving himself into a more upright position. "My arm's a bit achy but I don't really hurt anywhere else."

"Let's see what the doctor says when she gets here, shall we?" Joanna knew her son's impatience of old, but they'd have to bow to medical wisdom this time, no matter their personal wishes. Turning to Greg now that she'd seen max was on the mend, she gave him a critical once-over.

"Your turn to go home and get some sleep now," she said, noticing the shadows under his eyes and his need of a shave. "Are you fit to drive yourself?"

"Yup," Greg nodded, feeling much more lively now that the fresh coffee was percolating into his bloodstream. "I wouldn't fancy tackling an epic journey in my current state, but a quick trip over the river won't be a problem in the least."

Jack looked up from admiring his brother's various injuries. "Can we go home with Greg too?" he asked. "Hanging around here is going to be boring."

"If Jack's going home with Greg, I'd like to go too," Beth wasn't terribly interested in staying either now that she'd seen for herself that Max was fine. The general hospital smell was getting to her and she wrinkled her nose. Seeing Jo's indecision, Greg finished his coffee and lobbed the cup into the bin.

"Tell you what," he said. "If you don't mind me taking Beth and Jack to my place first while I get changed, I can drop them back at your house and have a kip on your sofa, if that's okay? That way everyone gets what they need and you don't have to worry about these two being left unsupervised." He combed fingers through his hair, only then realising why he'd caught several surreptitious glances at his head.

"Are you absolutely positive you want to do this, Greg?" Joanna was clearly reluctant to impose on his good will any further than she already had. "These two can put up with being bored here with me and their brother for a while, until we know what's happening."

"I'm happy if you're happy." Greg looked at the elder two Foys and raised his eyebrows. In turn, they looked at their mother and nodded. Unable to think of any good reason why the plan wouldn't work, Joanna gave in to democracy.