Page 52 of Dr. Single Dad

I know she’s right. I note the time. I want to see a doctor within two minutes.

Once some basic stats are done, the nurse removes Guinevere’s babygrow and starts to examine her, talking to her while she does. Guinevere is increasingly fussy. I step forward and stroke her head. “Hey, Guinevere. Daddy’s here. Eira’s here. You’re safe.”

I hope I’m right.

Have I kept her safe?

A heavy ball of regret lodges in my chest, threatening to pull down my entire body. It’s my job to keep her safe.

Eira appears at the curtain. Our gazes meet and she gives me a reassuring nod.

The nurse finishes the examination.

“I’m going to find a doctor. I’ll be back.”

I want to go with her, but I don’t want people focused on the father who can’t keep it together. I want to have all the attention on my daughter.

“It’s going to be okay,” Eira says, placing a thin muslin over Guinevere’s naked body. “It’s okay, sweet girl,” she says to her.

I bend and place a kiss on Guinevere’s forehead. For a second or two she settles as we both look over her.

In a matter of seconds a doctor arrives, Jacob right behind him. Thank god Eira suggested I call him. As a consultant pediatrician in the same hospital trust, the junior doctors accept his authority when he starts ordering people around. Within minutes, Guinevere has blood taken, is put on a drip and is prepared for her lumbar test.

Eira and I stand at the edge of the bay, watching as the doctors and nurses work.

“Is she going to be okay?” I’m not sure if I’m asking Eira or god or the universe. But I need something from someone. I’ll do anything, I think. I never wanted to be a father, but I don’t want to lose her. She’s mine. So tiny and vulnerable and completely dependent on me, her dad, to keep her alive.

I close my eyes and try to think. What can I trade for her?

If she survives this, I’ll move out to Hampstead and buy a house with a garden, with room for a playroom and her friends to come and stay.

If the universe gives me another chance, I’ll be the best dad. I’ll take her to the park. Sing to her, even.

If the doctors can just make her well again, I will do everything I can to make sure she’s safe.

Eira sucks in a shuddering breath. “Yes,” she says. “I think so.”

I fumble for her hand. I don’t know if it’s our version of a prayer, or maybe I’m just taking comfort where I can get it, but it makes me feel slightly better that I can feel her beside me.

Guinevere is finally asleep,but I can’t take my eyes off her. I’m holding her hand between my thumb and forefinger. I want her to know she’s being cared for, that she’s not alone.

That she’s loved.

I don’t know when I started to love her. It didn’t happen right away. I just know that right now, I’d stand in front of a train for her.

The swish of the curtains gets my attention and I turn. It’s Jacob. His expression is blank. I can’t read him. What’s he going to say?

“It’s viral meningitis.”

I deflate like a balloon without a knot. “Thank god. So she’s going to be fine? No kidney damage or swelling?”

“There’s unlikely to be any permanent damage. You caught it very quickly.”

“Eira did,” I say.

I’d been a fool. Asleep at the wheel. I make a mental note to book her in for some tests. I should have done it anyway. Check-ups. Maybe monthly. Just to make sure I’m not missing anything. I’ll get Jacob to tell me who’s the best pediatrician in the UK. Besides him. I don’t want him missing something either because he’s too close to her.

I’m vaguely aware of Jacob talking to Eira. “As you know, much better than bacterial meningitis. Just need to keep her hydrated.”

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