‘I came just as soon as I heard,’ shouted Nat, still on the move, but all three women just continued to stare at him, like rabbits caught in a headlight. ‘I’m the same blood group as Fletcher,’ Nat blurted out as he came to a halt by Annie’s side.
‘You’re AB negative?’ said Annie in disbelief.
‘Sure am,’ said Nat.
‘Thank God,’ said Martha. Ruth quickly disappeared into the intensive care unit, and returned a moment later with Ben Renwick by her side.
‘Mr Cartwright,’ he said thrusting out his hand, ‘My name is Dr Renwick, and I’m...’
‘The hospital’s senior consultant, yes, I know you by reputation,’ said Nat, shaking his hand.
The surgeon gave a slight bow. ‘We have a technician ready to take your blood...’
‘Then let’s get on with it,’ said Nat, pulling off his jacket.
‘To begin with we’ll need to run some tests and check if your blood is an exact match, and then screen it for HIV and hepatitis B.’
‘Not a problem,’ said Nat.
‘But I’m afraid, Mr Cartwright, I’ll also need at least three pints of your blood if Senator Davenport is to have any chance of survival, and that will require several indemnity forms signed in the presence of a lawyer.’
‘Why a lawyer?’ asked Nat,
‘Because there’s an outside chance you might suffer severe side effects, and in any case, you’ll end up feeling pretty weak yourself, and it may prove necessary to keep you in the hospital for several days just to administer extra fluids.’
‘Are there no extremes that Fletcher will not go to to keep me off the campaign trail?’
All three women smiled for the first time that day as Renwick quickly led Nat off to his office. Nat turned round to speak to Annie, to find her being comforted by Su Ling.
‘Now I have another problem to consider,’ admitted Renwick as he took a seat behind his desk and began sorting through some forms.
‘I’ll sign anything,’ repeated Nat.
‘You can’t sign the form I have in mind,’ said the consultant.
Why not?’ asked Nat.
‘Because it’s an absentee ballot, and I’m no longer certain which one of you to vote for.’
51
‘Losing three pints of blood doesn’t seem to have slowed down Mr Cartwright,’ said the duty nurse as she placed his latest chart in front of Dr Renwick.
‘Maybe not,’ said Renwick, flicking through the pages, ‘but it sure made one hell of a difference to Senator Davenport. It saved his life.’
‘True,’ said the nurse, ‘but I’ve warned the senator that despite the election, he’ll have to stay put for at least another two weeks.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on that,’ said Renwick, ‘I anticipate that Fletcher will have discharged himself by the end of the week.’
‘You could be right,’ said the nurse with a sigh, ‘but what can I do to prevent it?’
‘Nothing,’ said Renwick, turning over the file on his desk so that she couldn’t read the names Nathaniel and Peter Cartwright printed in the top right corner. ‘But I do need you to make an appointment for me to see both men as soon as possible.’
‘Yes, doctor,’ replied the nurse making a note on her clipboard before leaving the room.
Once the door was closed, Ben Renwick turned the file back over and read through its contents once again. He’d thought about little else for the past three days.
When he left later that evening, he locked the file away in his private safe. After all, a few more days wouldn’t make a great deal of difference, after all what he needed to discuss with the two men had remained a secret for the past forty-three years.
Nat was discharged from St Patrick’s on Thursday evening, and no one on the hospital staff imagined for a moment that Fletcher would still be around by the weekend, despite his mother trying to convince him that he should take it easy. He reminded her there were now only two weeks to go before election day.
During the longest week in his life, Ben Renwick continued to wrestle with his conscience, just as Dr Greenwood must have done forty-three years before him, but Renwick had come to a different conclusion; he felt he’d been left with no choice but to tell both men the truth.
The two combatants agreed to meet at six a.m. on Tuesday morning in Dr Renwick’s office. It was the only time before election day that both candidates had a clear hour in their diaries.
Nat was the first to arrive, as he had hoped to be in Waterbury for a nine o’clock meeting, and perhaps even squeeze in a visit to a couple of commuter stations on the way.
Fletcher hobbled into Dr Renwick’s office at five fifty-eight, annoyed that Nat had made it before him.
‘Just as soon as I get this cast off,’ he said, ‘I’m going to kick your ass.’
‘You shouldn’t speak to Dr Renwick like that, after all he’s done for you,’ said Nat, with a grin.
‘Why not?’ asked Fletcher. ‘He filled me up with your blood, so now I’m half the man I was.’
‘Wrong again,’ said Nat. ‘You’re twice the man you were, but still half the man I am.’
‘Children, children,’ said the doctor, suddenly realizing the significance of his words, ‘there is something a little more serious that I need to discuss with you.’
Both men fell silent after hearing the tone in which they had been admonished.
Dr Renwick came from behind his desk to unlock his safe. He removed a file and placed it on the desk. ‘I have spent several days trying to work out just how I should go about imparting such confidential information to you both.’ He tapped the file with his right index finger. ‘Information that would never have come to my attention had it not been for the senator’s near-fatal accident and the necessity to check both your files.’ Nat and Fletcher glanced at each other, but said nothing. ‘Even whether to tell you separately or together became an ethical issue, and at least on that, it will now be obvious what decision I came to.’ The two candidates still said nothing. ‘I have only one request, that the information I am about to divulge should remain a secret, unless both of you, I repeat, both of you, are willing, even determined, to make it public’
‘I have no problem with that,’ said Fletcher, turning to face Nat.
‘Neither do I,’ said Nat, ‘I am after all, in the presence of my lawyer.’
‘Even if it were to influence the outcome of the election?’ the doctor added, ignoring Nat’s levity. Both men hesitated for a moment, but once again nodded. ‘Let me make it clear that what I am about to reveal is not a possibility or even a probability; it is quite simply beyond dispute.’ The doctor opened the file and glanced down at a birth certificate and a death certificate.
‘Senator Davenport and Mr Cartwright,’ he said, as if addressing two people he’d never met before, ‘I have to inform you that, having checked and double-checked both your DNA samples, there can be no questioning the scientific evidence that you are not only brothers,’ he paused, his eyes returning to the birth certificate, ‘but dizygotic twins.’ Dr Renwick remained silent as he allowed the significance of his statement to sink in.
Nat recalled those days when he still needed to rush to a dictionary to check the meaning of a word. Fletcher was the first to break the silence. Which means we’re not identical.’
‘Correct,’ said Dr Renwick, ‘the assumption that twins must look alike has always been a myth, mainly perpetrated by romantic novelists.’
‘But, that doesn’t explain...’ began Nat.
‘Should you wish to know the answer to any other questions you might have,’ said Dr Renwick, ‘including who are your natural parents, and how you became separated, I am only too happy that you should study this file at your leisure.’ Dr Renwick tapped the open file in front of him once again.