Free Angel of Death by John Askill

Grantham.
    A number of doctors expressed concern. Five children had been rushed thirty miles along the A52 from Grantham to Nottingham for specialist care in less than two months – normally the number they would expect in an entire year. All of them had made a recovery but the doctors at the QMC were sufficiently worried to approach a senior consultant.
    What on earth, they wanted to know, could be happening?

6.    Claire — ‘Crikey, Not Another One’
    It took the death of Claire Peck finally to bring detectives onto Ward Four at the Grantham and Kesteven Hospital.
    Three children, Liam Taylor, Timothy Hardwick and Becky Phillips had died. Eight other youngsters, Kayley Desmond, Paul Crampton, Bradley Gibson, Henry Chan, Katie Phillips, Christopher Peasgood, Christopher King and Patrick Elstone had been a whisker away from losing their lives; yet Ward Four still remained open.
    But after the death of Claire – child number twelve in the catalogue of tragedy – attitudes were to change.
    It had been a routine case. Claire was an only child, blonde-haired, bright eyed, just beginning to talk and find her feet. She was fifteen months old and asthmatic.
    Her life hadn’t been in real danger when she was admitted to the ward on the afternoon of 22 April. Claire was gasping for breath as Sue and David Peck drove fifteen miles to the hospital from their home on the outskirts of Newark, but thefamily doctor had said twenty-four hours would bring a remarkable recovery in her condition.
    Within four hours Claire Peck was dead. Sue would always remember the specialist sitting bewildered, with his head in his hands, shattered from the effort of trying to save Claire, telling her it should not have happened. At the time Sue didn’t understand what he meant.
    Hairdresser Sue Peck, a friendly girl with a ready grin, had been married four years when Claire was born in the maternity ward at Grantham; she weighed 61bs 8ozs. She was surrounded by love, adored by David and their relatives and friends who would make a habit of calling in just to catch sight of her smile.
    When Claire was fifteen months old she suddenly started to wheeze at night and Sue and David were plunged into despair. She would cough for hours on end, unable to sleep. The doctor diagnosed bronchiolitis and prescribed a Ventolin inhaler, saying it was too soon to know whether Claire was going to be asthmatic. By 18 April the wheezing was no better and the doctor declared she would have to be admitted to hospital.
    On Ward Four nurses placed Claire on a nebuliser to clear her airways. Within half an hour she was 100% better. Claire remained in hospital until 20 April, improving hour by hour. A doctor admitted that Claire was asthmatic ‘to a slight degree’, and sent her home, advising Sue to administer a course of Ventolin syrup and use the inhaler when necessary.
    The following morning, 21 April, was a beautiful spring day. It was to be Claire’s last full day at home, the day before she died, and Sue and David would remember it vividly. They took Claire for a walk in the country, carrying her some of the time, then watching her proudly as she tried to put one step in front of the other and walk.
    They called in to see Sue’s grandma, popped in at her brother’s home, then went home to put Claire in the bath before bed. ‘It had been a beautiful day, lovely and warm, and we had had a wonderful time together.’
    Claire woke coughing at 1.45am and, when Sue phoned the doctor, he told her to administer twenty puffs of Ventolin and some syrup. Claire recovered, played with her toys for an hour, then fell asleep. At 4.30am David left for work. At 6.15am Sue woke to the sound of her little girl coughing once more. The doctor was at the house before 8am, with a portable nebuliser, returning a second time at 2pm, but the second time it made no difference and, when David took Claire to the surgery, the doctor said