Chapter Thirty Six

Wednesday 3rd July

Harry ate in the kitchen. Nikki hadn't come over this evening. He'd made sure there was enough food just in case. Not so much that it looked like two portions. He didn't want to appear presumptuous. It was quiet without her, only Leo's annoying clock for company. He'd enjoy recycling that. Not that it had been noisy the night before. They had not talked much last night over their burnt offering. They'd almost eaten in silence, the conversation only turning to snippets about the weather, the news and Leo's garden. Harry hadn't dared look in the shed yet. He'd have to cut the grass soon though.

She'd left shortly after finishing eating, she'd texted today to say that she was working late. He was tempted to call Jack but that just felt like he was checking up on her and he had no right to do that. She had told him she wasn't coming. He would have to trust her.

He did trust her.

It was just that he was very aware that the last time she'd been in a similar state he hadn't really listened to her, hadn't managed to hear what she was actually saying and he didn't want to make the same mistake twice.

If his imagined evening with Nikki hadn't gone as he'd hoped, the rest of the day more than made up for it. He'd made a big breakthrough in his attempts to kickstart his business and his lunch with Trevor had gone much better than he had expected; he had the name and number of someone that would help him work through the projected costs of his new venture, and his first recommendation. Or to be precise Leo had got him his first recommendation. And for the first time he was confident that it was going to be possible.

He'd gone over to Leo's 'Listener's' charity headquarters first thing. He'd driven Leo's car, it had taken him ages to find out how to switch off the stereo. He couldn't change the channel or the volume so he'd been stuck with Heart FM and Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond had made it most of the way through: 'You don't bring me flowers,' before he'd finally managed to hit the right button to finally silence them.

The charity had a small shop and office space above. It looked like any of the other charity shops that seemed to be the predominant force on the high street now. Upstairs however was a receptionist and a couple of meeting rooms, sofas, chairs and cushions everywhere to make the office warm and inviting. It was a million miles away from the faceless cubicles at NYU.

"I've got an appointment with Charlotte Fielding," Harry had said.

The receptionist clicked the mouse and stared at the computer screen when suddenly the door to the office had burst open and a tall red-headed women had bundled in. The receptionist looked from Harry to the woman and back again.

"I need to see Charlie, now!" she'd cried.

Harry noted the woman's wan face and deeply circled eyes.

"It's ok, I can wait," he'd said and sat down on the sofa and picked up the latest Listener newsletter.

"Marcia is that you?" Charlotte Fielding stepped out of her door and towards the desperate woman.

"I didn't know what else to do, I didn't know where else to come, we've asked and begged and pleaded for so long for this and now we've got it, it makes no sense whatsoever. I don't understand!" The redhead had explained and had waved a manila folder she had clutched in her hand.

"Do you want to come through?" Charlie had asked her. "Would you like a coffee?" Without waiting for a reply she had continued. "Stacey could you make us a couple of coffees please and maybe Doctor…."

"Harry Cunningham," Harry said as he'd risen to his feet.

"Maybe he'd like one as well."

"Thanks," Harry had said as Stacey had handed over the coffee. "Do you know what that was about?"

Stacey shook her head.

"Not precisely, but I can guess."

The voices from Charlie's room, or Marcia's voice was getting louder, not loud enough to be understood but loud enough to hear the stress and pain that the woman was in.

"Her baby's death was recorded as SIDS, she wanted to see the pathology report. We always counsel against it, only the coroner has a right to see the actual report but sometimes they let parents see them. It rarely helps." Stacey had said quietly.

"Is that what she was holding? The pathologist's report? Is that what she couldn't understand?"

Stacey had shrugged, the phone had rung.

"Sorry; it's the help line, make yourself at home."

Harry had stepped back towards the sofa, he could hear Charlie's voice now, it was soft and soothing but Marcia's sobs were still all too apparent. Instead of sitting back down Harry had stepped forward and knocked on Charlie's door.

"Not now Stacey," Charlie had called.

Harry had pressed forward and opened the door. Both women stared up at him.

"Look, I know it's none of my business, but Stacey said that the document you're having trouble with is a pathologist's report."

Charlie had looked furious at the interruption but Marcia had been so desperate she was willing to accept any help from anyone.

"It's just," Harry had continued. "I'm here on other business today, but I am a pathologist. I could look through that report with you if you wish. Translate it into English for you? If that sounded like something you'd want?"

Charlie's face finally softened and Marcia's looked as if it had been kissed by an angel.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Yes I would and don't worry I'm not going to present you with a bill at the end or anything. We'll just sit here and read it through and see if we can make some sense of the results."

"Thank you! Yes I would like that," Marcia had said with relief. It had been so hard, losing her beautiful son and then instead of having time to grieve being thrust into a maelstrom of bureaucracy and endless questioning. Constantly having to fight, fight through the paperwork, fight through the questions and police interviews, fight the disbelieving looks of friend and neighbours, fight through the hospital interviews, doctors reports, none of which had any answers any reasons why this had happened and finally here was someone who was calm and was prepared to listen and wasn't in a rush.

Harry actually hadn't had much to tell her, there were no indications in the blood work that the baby had had an infection of any kind. All the samples had been within normal levels. He'd wanted to skip over the investigation of the lungs and airways for foreign fibres. It was policy that suffocation accidental or intentional was always looked for but the child had had no fibres in his airway. Nothing to suggest that he had been smothered, so Harry had continued reading and explaining.

"Would a second opinion, or second autopsy find anything new?" Marcia had asked when they got to the end.

"There is nothing to suggest that Dr…." Harry flipped through the pages to find the name of the pathologist. "Dr Shah hasn't done a thorough job. If the blood work were retested it would still show that all was within normal limits. There is nothing in the stomach contents to show that the child ingested something they shouldn't have and the presence of intrathoracic petechiae is I'm afraid one of the defining characteristics of a death from SIDS. You could ask for a second opinion but it won't change the fact that Tommy has died. If I'd have done this autopsy I'm sure I would have come to the same conclusion." He'd passed Marcia the box of tissues then. It was hard to hear but it was the truth.

"You've been so kind doctor."

"Call me Harry," he replied.

"Do you have a number?"

Charlie looked up concerned now. She'd let Harry talk because it was in everyone's best interests. But personal numbers were a different matter.

"I mean your card?" Marcia had clarified. "What you've done today in twenty minutes has been more than anyone else has since my Tommy passed on. I was just wondering if I could pass your details on so you could help other people, if you were interested. I'll give you the most amazing write up on Mumsnet, your phone will never stop!" Marcia had given him a weak smile.

He hadn't expected anything in return, but suddenly it seemed as if his plan to go independent had taken a massive step forward. This could be exactly the starting point he needed.

"I've only recently got back in the country. I'm still getting my office set up. But as soon as I am, I'll give Charlie my details and then she can pass them on to you and anyone else who might need a pathologist.

"Thank you, I'm sorry I hijacked you're appointment."

Harry squeezed Marcia's hand. "I was glad I could help."

After Marcia had left, Charlie had insisted Stacey make her a strong cup of tea.

"Are your days always like that?" Harry had asked.

"Many of them," Charlie had admitted. "What can I do for you Harry?"

"Well, I have good news and bad news," he'd begun.


Sorry lots of STUFF in these chapters but it does have to be done to make the rest credible I'm afraid. Don't forget there's a guess that line competition… I'll look forward to hearing from you ;)