by C J Morrow
I lie in the bed, comfortable and clean and I start thinking. I’ve been unconscious for two weeks, wakeful for a few days; it’s only a matter of time before I have a period. Maybe they’ll use tampons. I shudder at the prospect of Jeff pulling those out. Or putting them in. I actually shudder; I feel my shoulders shake.
‘Well, that’s movement.’ Robin’s sitting beside me again. ‘Well done. But it still stinks round here.’
‘Shush.’ The last thing I need is his judgement or his rebuke. But he’s right, I did move, even if it was in response to prospective embarrassment.
‘Oh, here’s your mum and her friend. I’m off, I’ll see you later.’
‘Bye.’ I’m glad he’s going, but I’m worried that Mum and Sally will be treated to the stink.
‘Hello darling. Mum here. I’ve brought Sally with me.’ Mum’s voice is far too cheerful, I can tell she’s really trying. Then she sniffs.
‘Hello Juliette.’ Sally pats my hand. ‘You poor thing.’ I feel her stroke my face and wipe my hair to one side. I think when they’re doing this – my mum, the nurses, now Sally – they’re trying to cover the scars and the shaved part of my head. They probably don’t even realise they’re doing it.
Mum’s rummaging around in the bedside locker again. ‘Ah, here it is.’ She’s spraying air freshener around. I think she might have done this a few times before.
I laugh. It’s funny.
‘Good to see you laugh again,’ Mum says, squeezing my shoulder.
‘Yes.’
‘How do you feel?’ I hope Sally isn’t expecting a proper answer.
‘Been better.’
‘Yes. I bet you have. I’m going to be honest with you, you’ve looked better.’ Sally never minces her words, it’s why she’s my mum’s best friend. ‘You’re a mass of bruises and tubes, girl. What’s this one?’ The question is to Mum not me as I feel a small yank at my nose.
‘Feeding tube. And the one in the neck, that’s for drugs and things.’
‘What things?’
‘I don’t know. It’s a main line, no central line, or something.’ I can tell from Mum’s tone that she’d rather not focus on it.
‘Right,’ Sally says in a super jolly voice, picking up on Mum’s distress. ‘As long as you’re on the mend, that’s the main thing, Juliette.’
I can’t remember a time when Sally wasn’t in our lives. Mum and Dad still live in the house I was born in, well, not literally born in, that was hospital, but she lived next door when they moved in and still does. She had a baby of her own, Stephen, he was nearly a year old when I was born, so she was a great support to a new mother like Mum. They had a lot in common: young babies, little money and ramshackle old houses that needed work doing on them. They became the best of friends and nearly thirty years later they still are.
Sally was a great help when I was born and an even greater help when Mads came along. And, Mum was there for Sally when her marriage broke down and her husband traded her in for a younger model.
Sally’s like a second mother to me, or at least my most favourite aunt. Mum and Sally had even managed to find a job-share years ago. I went to Sally’s after school when Mum was working, and Stephen came to ours when Sally was working.
Mum and Sally sit and chat, they include me, but it’s nothing too taxing. Which is great. It’s like old times, when I would sit at the table quietly and listen in while they dissected some situation at work.
They’re talking about the dustbin collection in their street, not exactly riveting stuff, but it’s normal stuff. And, no one is demanding that I move or speak.
‘Once a fortnight and even then, they can’t pick it all up. Drives me mad. What do we pay our council tax for?’ Sally says. ‘I bet it’s the same where you are, Juliette.’
‘Yeah, it is.’ Fortunately, I don’t have much to do with it, it’s Robin’s domain. He even has special, long, rubber gloves to deal with it. I have a sneaking suspicion he wears a mask too.
Mum and Sally chat on, I’m only half listening, but I’m enjoying it. I can almost pretend that none of this car crash, injury stuff really happened; I’m transported back to the kitchen table. And, this is certainly better than hearing Mum’s monotonous reading of Pride and Prejudice. Or was it Harry Potter? No, she abandoned that after I flipped out.
After a while I zone out, but it’s lovely; I’m comfortable and cosy. Their familiar voices are so soothing.
‘Wake up sleepy. You’re snoring.’ Mum sounds so much happier now that Sally is with her. It’s been a jolly afternoon, even if I have slept through some of it.
‘Sorry.’
‘Were we boring you?’ Sally laughs.
‘No. It was nice.’ I’m saying quite a lot now. I’m rather pleased with myself. Just need to move and get my eyes open.
‘We’re off, Dad will pop up later, on his own.’
‘Okay.’
Mum leans in to kiss me goodbye, swiftly followed by Sally.
‘Stephen was asking if he could come and see you. Would that be okay?’
‘Stephen? Why?’
There’s a tangible pause in the jollity; I imagine them exchanging glances but it could just be my imagination.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll tell him you’re not ready for male visitors.’ Sally’s laugh sounds hollow.
‘Okay.’
They’re moving away and they shout back their goodbyes. I call a bye in response, then lift my hand to wave.
I waved. I waved. I lifted my hand and waved. But, I don’t think anyone saw it.
I’m elated.
But it doesn’t last.
I start to imagine what I must look like. A mass of injuries and bruises, no hair, and, something I hadn’t considered before, a load of tubes coming out of me. One up my nose, which, now I think about it, explains why I don’t feel hungry all the time. One in my neck – I don’t even want to think about that. Then there’s the catheter, that’s makes me shudder. I visualise a tube draining into a big bucket of pee beneath the bed. For some reason the bucket is red – probably so people won’t miss it, or kick it, or worse.
Red. The colour of my car.
What happened? How did I crash my car? Where did I crash my car? I’ll ask Robin when he comes back. Maybe he’s told me all about it before and I just can’t remember. It’s possible he’s repeated the story every day since it happened.
I must have been going fast to roll the car like that, for it to end up on its roof. Did Dad say that I was dragged from a burning car? Who dragged me? Was I really wearing that black coat? It’s too small and old fashioned. I never wear it. Why would I be wearing it? Or is that just my mind playing tricks? I need to ask someone if I was wearing that coat. Maybe I’ve already asked. Maybe they’ve told me a dozen times.
‘Hey hun.’ It’s Jeff. ‘Come to do your checks and turn you before I go.’ He wipes my eyes. ‘You been crying, Juliette?’
Have I? ‘Yeah.’ I shrug.
‘Did you just shrug. Wow. That’s excellent. Well done. I’ll note than down.’
‘Cool.’ Well, that’s progress. A hand wave and a shrug as well as the shudder. Just need to get these stupid eyes open now.
‘Physio is obviously working, they’ll be delighted.’
‘Physio? Who? What?’
‘They come every day, Juliette. They work with you. Don’t you remember?’
‘No.’ This is awful. I have a memory like a sieve.
‘Not to worry, your brain’s still repairing, making new connections, finding its way past the damage.’
I don’t think I like the sound of that.
‘You’re doing great, really you are.’ He pats my hand and disappears.
I lie back and wait for Dad to come. I’ve no idea what time it is now, except that if Jeff is still here it must be daytime. He seems to work during the day and Sue at night; or doesn’t it work like that? I don’t know. There are so many questions in my head, so many puzzles.
I suppo
se the state of me must be why they’re keeping Mads from visiting. Though, at fifteen I think she’s old enough to cope with a few bruises and tubes. Mads will cheer me up. She’ll tell me things about the staff, what they look like, how they walk. She’s a keen observer and a bit wicked too; but in a good way, a funny way.
When Dad comes in I’m going to insist he brings Mads with him tomorrow. I’m missing her. And, I haven’t seen her for weeks, even before the accident. But the last few weeks – no, it’s probably months – she hasn’t been in, or is leaving just as I arrive. It’s a real shame; I so enjoy our silly giggles.
Last time I went I asked Mum if Mads had a boyfriend.
‘I don’t think so. She’s too young.’ I was clearing the table at the time as Mum stacked the dishwasher.
‘Anyway, so where is Mads going?’ I wasn’t going to let it drop, though I was only teasing.
‘She has exams coming up. She goes to her friend’s to study.’
‘You sure of that?’ It was a joke, but I wished I’d never said it.
‘Not everyone is like you, Juliette.’ She arched her eyebrows at me. She was, of course, alluding to my deception with Robin. ‘Fortunately, she doesn’t need extra tuition.’
‘No. Of course. I just miss seeing Mads, that’s all.’
Mads still messaged me most days, but it wasn’t the same as cuddling up on the sofa and laughing over something stupid. I missed her giggles, her sense of humour. I missed seeing her, in person.
After our exchange the atmosphere was tense between me and Mum; I’d dragged up the past as well as questioning Mads’s integrity. I’d suggested that Mads might not be trustworthy and Mum certainly didn’t like that. After I’d disappointed them with my refusal to go to university and married Robin instead, it was as though Mum gave up on me and lavished all her attention on Mads, as though she had a second chance to bring up the perfect daughter.
We sat together in an uncomfortable silence watching soaps while I waited until I could go home, waited until Robin’s pupil was safely out of my house.
It was raining and cold when I left and as I drove home, I looked forward to getting indoors and warming up. I pulled up on the drive next to Robin’s car and the house was in darkness apart from Robin’s study.
‘Hi,’ I called as I hung my coat in the hall before popping my head round his door. Robin was working away on his computer. ‘Your car’s steaming.’
‘What?’ He turned and narrowed his eyes at me.
‘Well, the bonnet is steaming in the rain. You been out?’
He turned back to his computer. ‘Yeah. Had to drop that kid home; the rain was so heavy. He was going to walk otherwise.’
‘That’s good of you.’
‘You putting the kettle on?’
‘Can do.’ I made my way into the kitchen just as my phone buzzed in my bag.
It was a message from Mads: Just missed you. Stay later next time. Lol xxx
I replied that I would.
I can’t remember if I did.
‘Hello,’ Dad’s voice booms. I can tell he’s smiling. Maybe Mum’s told him about her good visit, or maybe the nurses have told him I moved my shoulders. ‘How are you?’
‘Getting there.’
‘You’re looking even perkier than you did yesterday. It’s good to see your face now.’
‘Bruises, tubes and all.’ I laugh. Listen to me, I’m talking properly now.
‘Well, little steps.’ Dad pulls up a chair. He, like Mum, sits on the opposite side to where Robin sits. That chair must dance around this bed several times a day. ‘They said at the nurses’ station that you moved earlier.’
‘Yeah. I did.’
‘Well done.’
There’s an awkward silence now, because Dad doesn’t really do small talk and I’ve got nothing to say, unless I tell him how I pooped myself – I don’t think so.
‘How was Ofsted?’
‘Fine. Yes. Fine. Happily, over now.’
‘Good.’
‘Until the next time.’ He sighs, then we’re sitting in silence again.
‘Dad, bring Mads tomorrow.’
He doesn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t hear me.
‘Dad. Bring Mads. Please.’ I want to reassure him that she’s old enough to cope with a few bruises and tubes, but I haven’t got the energy to go into all that. He should know she’ll be fine.
I hear a long gasp, as though he’s taking in air. When he starts to speak, his voice is all gurgly.
‘I can’t, Juliette. Madeleine is dead.’
Six
I don’t remember much after that. I don’t remember Dad leaving. I just remember the howling. Heart-breaking howling. Sue came rushing over and spoke to me, or Dad, I don’t know and then nothing. She probably put something in my neck tube.
But I’m awake now.
I’m not howling anymore.
I’m crying. And the sobs shake my body.
I killed Mads.
I rolled my car over and over and Mads was there with me and I killed her. I killed my baby sister.
‘Mads,’ I yell out between sobs. ‘Mads.’
‘Calm down, Juliette. You’re okay.’ It’s Jeff again.
Have I been out that long? I wish they’d put me out forever. No wonder I stayed in a coma, I bet they’ve told me before. I bet that was my reaction. Unconsciousness. How can I live with myself?
‘I killed Mads,’ I howl.
‘I said it would upset you.’ Robin’s soft whisper in my ear. ‘I wanted to spare you this.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me I killed Mads?’ Each word is full of dribbles and tears, barely understandable.
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ I wasn’t asking Jeff, though that’s who answers. ‘Just going to give you something to calm you.’
‘No.’ I don’t deserve to be calm. I deserve to be punished. I killed my lovely little sister. Funny, cute, sweet Mads. Mads with the wicked sense of humour and fierce intelligence, much brighter than me. I killed her.
I drift. I’m calm but still conscious. The thoughts are still here. Robin is still here.
‘Better?’
I have neither the energy nor the ability to answer him.
I hear myself groan.
‘Don’t blame yourself, Juliette. These things happen.’
No. They. Don’t. How can I have survived? I wish I had died too. Or better still, died instead. What happened? How did it happen? How did I crash? I wish I could remember. But would that help? Would it change anything?
Mads is dead.
I killed Mads.
‘Hello Juliette.’ An unfamiliar voice. ‘Physio.’
‘Hi Emma.’ Robin’s smiley voice is back. ‘You’ll like Emma. She’s nice.’ He likes Emma.
‘I know you’ve had an upset, so they’ve sedated you, so I’ll just get on with it. You just relax.’
Relax. My body can do nothing else. My mind, however, is racing. Running around in circles trying to work out why Mads was in my car? Where we were going?
Emma starts to move my limbs, my torso, my head; my body is soft and compliant. There’s a comforting familiarity about these movements, my body recognises them, even though it is painful. Have they been doing this every day since it happened?
How I wish this was Mads and not me.
I do not deserve to live.
I murdered Mads.
‘We’re done,’ Emma announces. ‘Your body is healing well and you’re really responding. I’ll see you some time tomorrow.’
‘I told you she was nice.’
‘What?’ My voice has returned.
‘I was just saying that Emma is nice.’
‘Mads is dead.’
‘I know. It’s very sad. Very sad. I’m sorry.’
Sad doesn’t even begin to describe it. Sad. It’s tragic. Mads is gone. I cannot believe I won’t see her funny little face again. She’ll be forever fifteen. It would have been better if I had been forever twenty-eight instead
.
I feel quite, quite sick, as though I might wretch. I manage to quell the feeling by breathing deeply through my nose – that extra oxygen pumping up my nostrils is probably helping.
Mads was five-and-a-half when I moved out of Mum and Dad’s. She couldn’t understand why I was going. In truth, neither could Mum and Dad. I’d just told them Robin had asked me to marry him.
‘What’s the hurry? You don’t have to get married.’ Dad shook his head.
‘Do you?’ Mum’s voice climbed an octave in alarm. She didn’t want to be a granny yet.
‘No. No. Nobody gets married cos they have to. It’s not like the old days when you were young.’ I knew that would hurt, Mum didn’t like being reminded of her age and she glared at me. ‘I want to be with Robin.’ My voice was strong, determined, emphatic.
‘Well, you can be with him.’ Dad gave a little head shake, he really wasn’t comfortable having this conversation with me despite being a senior school deputy-head and he must have had similar conversations with pupils. ‘You can still see each other. Frequently.’
‘We want to be together all the time.’
‘So, live with him.’ Mum’s voice was matter of fact. She did that, when she couldn’t cope, just went into cold, rational mode. ‘And still go to university.’
‘I can’t live with him if I go away to university.’ Mum knew that.
‘In the holidays…’ Mum shrugged.
‘Such a shame when you did so well, when you got your first choice.’ Dad couldn’t understand why anyone would turn down more education.
‘I’ve told you, I’ve already got a job with Belton’s. They’ll train me and everything, and fund it. I’ll be chartered without any debt.’ Belton’s was the best accountancy company in town and I’d been delighted when they’d offered me a position. It was entry level, but as Robin had said, I was such a lucky girl, they only took on two trainees every three years and I was one of them.
‘Mmm. But you’re missing out…’ Mum’s voice trailed away. We all knew her main motive was to get me away from Robin. We’d already had the you’ve-never-even-had-another-boyfriend row – more than once.
My parents gave up then, they both knew they were banging their heads against a brick wall. I was determined. I knew what I wanted from life. I wanted Robin, forever. I was eighteen. I was an adult. I could do what I liked.