happened before the tags even got put on.”
I remembered Don Maguire saying much the same thing. Mind you, he’d also said there was no reason for all this to end up in the courts. “In which case, it’s hardly your fault, is it? It could have been the paramedics, or one of the doctors who dealt with both babies.”
Bronagh nodded. “That’s what I reckon. Most times, when a preterm baby is delivered in a hospital that isn’t equipped to deal with it, they’ll call the neonatal ambulance service and request a transfer while they’re still doing the C-section. Then, rather than hang around fiddling with tags after they’ve pulled the wee thing out, they just put it straight in skin wrap to keep it warm—that’s like a little plastic bag with a ziplock—”
“Our baby was in one of those,” I interrupted. “I remember because it was so unexpected, seeing him inside a bag like that.”
“Well, there you go. And then they either pop the tag inside, or—more likely, because they don’t want to unzip the bag and let the heat out—just put it inside the mobile incubator, next to the baby. This is a paper tag we’re talking about, not the electronic ones we have, because different hospitals have different systems. So when a baby arrives, we transfer it from the mobile incubator to one of ours, and transfer the tag information to our software at the same time.”
I thought. “And if there were two loose paper tags like that, they might have gotten mixed up when the mobile cots were next to each other on arrival.”
“Exactly.”
“Then you’re in the clear, surely?”
Bronagh shrugged. “It all depends when the electronic tag got put on, doesn’t it? If I put it on as soon as the baby was stable, I followed protocol. If I had a cup of tea and did it at the end of my shift, they’ll try to hang this whole thing on me. I’m already looking at a disciplinary for not reporting every tag-off incident, so if they choose to decide I left it too long, I could be out on my ear.” She sighed. “And I bet there’s plenty of high-ups who’d prefer it to look like a mistake by an individual who didn’t follow proper procedures, rather than admit their whole expensive tagging system is shite in a bucket.”
“Ah,” I said, thinking through the implications. “Because St. Alexander’s has been downgraded, you mean? Management wants this done and dusted and swept under the carpet. Don’t worry, we’ve fired the person who messed up. Lessons have been learned, et cetera. Nothing to see here anymore.”
She leaned forward, her blue eyes fixed on mine. “The thing is, Pete, they’re obviously going to ask you for your recollections of that day.”
“I guess so, yes.”
“If you could…I mean, I don’t want to put words in your mouth, but…” She stopped. “Sorry. Bad choice of phrase. And I’m absolutely not saying that you should do it as a favor because of…you know. Just that the earlier you saw that tag on Theo’s leg, the less this shitestorm is going to fall on me. Or Paula, for that matter.”
“I understand,” I said slowly. “The fact is, it was all such a muddle that day…I don’t know exactly what I’ll say yet. But I’ll work something out. And whatever happens, I’ll try to make it clear it couldn’t have been down to you.” After all, I reasoned, if it was me who put Bronagh in the firing line, the least I could do was to get her out of it.
“Thanks Pete. You’re massive. Oh Jesus, there I go again.” Bronagh blinked back tears. “I could tell you were a good’un as soon as I saw you with Theo. I see a lot of new dads, you know, and I can always tell.” She gently touched the top of my finger with hers. “I hope Maddie knows what a lucky woman she is.”
55
MADDIE
I GET THE CALL from CAFCASS while I’m at work. There’d been an automated text earlier, saying a family court adviser would call me at three unless I replied to say it’s inconvenient. It is inconvenient, very, but I feel an obscure urge to comply, to be a model respondent, even though the call is clearly being arranged by a computer and changing the time can’t possibly make any difference.
At quarter to three I find an empty office and set out a bottle of water, a pen, a stack of