Part 3

He's glad to be coming back to the clinic. Those ten days in the medical outpost – alone there with one local nurse – have been very hard. He's missed David and Abby, their long drawn out chats after diner, their uncomplicated affection, their sense of humour too. Above all, he's missed Zach, more than he ever thought possible.

When Zach gave him his drawing of the two of them, he was taken aback at first, and then moved to tears. He hid it from the little boy, not wanting to upset him, but he couldn't hide it from Abby when he told her about it afterwards. Since then, he's got closer and closer to Zach. It wasn't easy at first, as he had to make sure that the other children would not get resentful. But it gave him the idea of setting up a buddy scheme, whereby each child at the orphanage would be buddied by a volunteer, or member of staff, or some local family, and spend some one to one, privilege time with them. Quite naturally, it was decided that he would be Zach's buddy, which means that every day he can spend some time with him. They draw together, or go for a walk, or read a book, or fool around with a ball. As time goes by, Zach slowly opens up. He has started smiling – mostly to Fitz at first, but then at the other children. He's learning to speak again – in English: his mother tongue hasn't yet come back, which David puts down to the trauma he suffered when his family was murdered.

When Fitz explained to him that he had to go but would definitely be back in less than two weeks, Zach gave him such a haunted, wounded look, that he was almost tempted not to go. He had no choice, though: too many patients needed seeing in that outpost. He's tried to phone every day, unsuccessfully. The hardest part is knowing that although he's promised Zach he would be back, Zach doesn't understand promises, and probably believes that Fitz has gone forever.

And Fitz cannot stand the thought that Zach is in such pain, which is why he is now pressing down harder on the gas, willing the car to go faster. He doesn't dwell too much on the future. Of course, he knows he won't stay in Ghana forever, that at some point he will go back to the US – that his life is there, really, not here. And he doesn't want to think about what will happen to Zach then. For now, all he cares about is giving him as much affection as he can, for as long as he is here. He doesn't understand why Zach has come to depend on him so much: he's not a natural with children, especially so young. But somehow, for some reason, Zach loves him. And the love of this little boy, who has lost so much already in his life, surrounds and comforts him in his bleakest moments – those moments when he can't help thinking about Josh, about Olivia too.

Finally, he's made it back. He parks the car and goes straight into the orphanage. It's 7pm, after diner/pre-bed playtime, and there's a good chance Zach is up. He runs up the stairs to the older children's dormitory, and freezes: Zach is there, sitting on the floor, drawing (of course), and talking at the same time (more surprising.) But he isn't alone.

There's a young woman with him.

-x-

He barges into David's office, oblivious to the fact that Abby is in there, and obviously worried about something.

"What is she doing here?", he blurts out angrily.

David and Abby exchange a here-we-go look. Then, in a very calm, very measured way, David explains: "Fitz. Hi. Glad you're back. Well… we got a huge shipment of supplies a few days ago. Because there was so much stuff, the charity insisted that a qualified medic travel with it. She was available."

"Yeah. Right. So why hasn't she gone back, then?", he asks aggressively. "Why didn't you tell me anything about it?!" He carries on.

"Fitz! One, you were out of touch most of the time because the phone lines were so bad… I wasn't going to turn down two months' worth of syringes, AIDS medicine and painkillers! Two, we need as much medical help as we can get and she is fully qualified. Three, I hate to remind you, but she is Eli's daughter, and I don't need your permission to invite her over."

"What?! Don't tell me she is staying?!". He can't believe that David would do this to him.

Neither says anything. They can both see how upset he is, how difficult he is finding it. David is about to let him know what's been decided, but Fitz goes: "I was doing fine. I was doing just fine, so why did she have to…" He can't go on.

"Fitz", Abby interjects gently. "Fitz, come on. The only person you've allowed yourself to get close to emotionally is a damaged little boy. That's not what I would call doing fine."

She hit so close to the bone that he flinches. After a few moments, he asks: "How long is she staying for?"

David and Abby exchange yet another look: a "and now the tough bit" look. Hesitantly, David says: "Well, we wanted to talk to you about that. But basically, the nurse in charge of the orphanage quit while you were away. We won't get a replacement from the Red Cross for another three months. Olivia has agreed to step in, provided you agree of course."

He walks over to the window. He can see the light in the older children's dormitory. He knows that she is there… no way, he thinks, there's no way I can allow this. I can't deal with her, with everything that's happened. I just can't.

He turns around to face them, and his refusal must show on his face, because David immediately says, ruthlessly going for the jugular: "We hope you'll say yes. She's only been here for a few days, and she's already done wonders with some of the most vulnerable kids. Especially Zach."

For a few seconds he fears he's gone too far: Fitz has gone white as a sheet. "How dare you blackmail me, David… how dare you." He stops, exhausted all of a sudden by his struggle with the emotions raging inside him. "Sorry, David, I can't do it. I just can't."

"Fine!" And now David is getting angry with him. "Fine! So you go and explain to those children that the new nurse who sings nursery rhymes with them, and helps them go to sleep, and plays games while treating their cuts and grazes has to go! You go and tell them that she must leave because you're unable to make your peace with her!" More quietly, he adds: "You go and tell Zach that the only woman he has felt really close to in ages, probably since his mother died, must go because you've decided she can't stay! Because you see, Fitz, and I am really sorry to have to tell you this, she is the only person apart from you he will show his drawings!"

At that Fitz wants to scream: I don't want to hear this! He thinks, I don't want to hear that she is being wonderful and warm, and kind, with everybody…. and that somehow she's managed to win Zach's affection in just a few days! I can't stand the pain of watching her mothering a little boy I love, when she could have been a mother to our own child…

He is ashamed of himself for being so jealous of Olivia's bond with Zach, but mostly for thinking for even a second that his own equilibrium should come before the emotional health of a little boy who has seen and experienced so much suffering. So he gives in. "OK", he states, past his tight throat. "Fine. Let's keep her on for three months. I'll stay out of her way. Make sure she knows it's best if she stays out of mine. Now, if you don't mind, I'll go and see Zach."

He goes back to the orphanage, heart in his mouth. Zach and Olivia are still drawing together in the boys' dormitory. For a while, he stays there, looking at them, making sure they can't hear him. He can't help noticing that she's lost a lot of weight, that her voice sounds older. Suddenly, Zach looks up from his crayons: astonishment, confusion, and immense joy show on his face. Wordlessly, he gets up and runs to Fitz, and throws his arms around his waist. Fitz lifts him up and holds him close; it's as if Zach will never let him go, as if he wants to merge with him. He is gripping Fitz so tightly that his muscles are trembling.

"It's OK, Zach, it's OK, it's OK… it's OK…" He keeps repeating it, again and again, to soothe Zach, who is slowly relaxing, but also to postpone the moment when he will have to face her. He knows he's got to, and that she is standing there, looking at him holding Zach.

And although his eyes are half closed and his cheek is pressed against Zach's head, he senses that she is taking a few slow, hesitant steps towards him.

"Hi."