by Jenni Ogden
“I am attracted to Julia, damn it, and I’m beginning to wish I had slept with her.”
I turned around, my legs shaking. “What are you saying?” I said, my voice rising.
“You don’t want me and she does, that’s what I’m saying. You don’t want to make love any more and I’m bloody frustrated, that’s what I’m saying. I’m surprised you even care.”
“Of course I care. I love you, you stupid man. How can you think I don’t?” I lost control of my voice as I flung myself at Adam, smashing my fists on his chest.
He grabbed my wrists and I stood still, my words ringing in my head. Adam’s shoulders slumped and he let me go and turned towards the door. “When you’ve sorted yourself out and can see past your own self-pity, perhaps we’ll be able to get through this. I don’t know.” He put his hand on the door handle and stumbled back as the door opened in his face.
Lara stood there, hunched in her coat, her red hair a tangle about her tear-streaked face, her complexion almost green in the harsh light. “Stop it, you two, stop it, stop it,” she wailed, tears streaming from her swollen eyes. I collided with Adam as I rushed towards her. Lara waved us violently away, screaming in our faces. “How can you hate each other so much? Just shut up and stop fighting all the time. How do you think you make us feel? We’re sick of it.”
“Lara, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” I said. “We’ll stop, I promise. You know we love you; we didn’t mean you to hear us fighting.”
“You don’t act like you love us and you don’t love Dad any more, so don’t try to tell me you do,” Lara sobbed. “Finbar’s locked himself in his room and won’t let me in. I could hear him crying.”
“I’ll go and see him, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” I touched her arm. “We won’t argue any more.”
“Come on Lara, let’s all calm down and talk about this,” Adam said, pulling us both into the room.
Like a punch to my diaphragm, the panic started and I bent double, forcing myself to breathe slowly. I felt Adam's hand on my arm and desperately tried to ignore the pounding in my head. “It’s my fault,” I gasped. “We were fine before I started having therapy.” I heard my own rasping breath and grabbed the doorframe. Lara was staring at me, eyes wide. I wanted so much to hold her, but the distance between us was too far.
“You’ve been like this for ever, Mum. Why don’t you change your therapist? Find one who has some clues?” Lara swiped at her eyes. “I’m never going to find out what happened to my father, am I? He could have killed himself for all I know. He could have been murdered, and nobody cared. You don’t care. Nobody cares.”
My grasp on the doorframe weakened and I slid down until I was sitting on the floor. Adam’s voice cut through me and I pulled myself back up.
“Lara, get a grip on yourself. That was cruel. If it weren’t for your sudden great need to find out about Danny, your mother wouldn’t be in the state she’s in.”
“Adam, please don’t. It’s not Lara’s fault. She needs to know. I understand that. I just don’t know how I’m going to get my bloody memory back. Not by having these stupid panic attacks, that’s for sure.” My head felt as if it was going to ignite, but my rapid heartbeat was anger now, not panic. Anger at myself.
Adam grabbed my arms and I winced. He loosened his grip, the color draining from his face. “I thought you were going to crash down again. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry love.”
The endearment wiped out my anger and I closed my eyes. Re-lax, re-lax, re-lax. Sarah’s lilting Welsh voice played in my head and my body slowly obeyed. A stray thought jumped into my head: At least my damn therapy has been some use.
Lara pushed past me and Adam grabbed her coat sleeve. “Come on Lara, lighten up. Let’s all sit down and talk about this more calmly.”
Lara shoved his hand away.
“You’re freezing, and so am I. Go and get yourself back into bed, and I’ll make some hot chocolate for us all.” His voice was pleading now.
“No, I’m out of here. I’ve had it with you two screaming at each other.”
“Please Lara, have some sense,” Adam said. “You can’t go out at this time of night. And it’s pouring with rain.”
“Yes I can, and you can’t stop me. I phoned Selina, and she and Tony are coming to pick me up, so there!” On cue a loud horn sounded. “That’s them, so I’m gone.” She flounced across the room, her frayed designer jeans sticking out from under her navy coat, laces on her sneakers undone, and her bag, stuffed full of something, slung over her shoulder.
“No Lara. This is ridiculous.” Adam grasped at the air as she bolted for the door.
“Don’t worry about me; I can take care of myself. I’m staying at Selina’s tonight, so don’t wait up.” The door banged behind her and we heard her footsteps down the hall and the front door opening and slamming shut.
“Now what do we do?” Adam groaned. “Who the hell is Selina?”
“I think she’s a girl she goes skating with. I’ve never met her, but I’ve heard Lara talking to her on the phone. I don’t know who this Tony is though.” I shuddered as I heard an engine roar into life and the screech of wheels on wet tarmac.
“Don’t you even have a phone number for this Selina?”
“No, I don’t. Do you?” I said, barely recognizing my own voice. “You could try ringing Lara on her mobile, but I doubt she’ll answer. ”
“I suppose it’s all my fault that she’s out tearing around in a hot rod, angry and upset, with kids we don’t know and who are probably high or drunk or both?”
“Of course I don’t think it’s your fault. I’m sorry I yelled at you, but if you hadn’t spent the night with bloody Julia then we wouldn’t have got into this shouting match.”
“I don’t recall shouting. Perhaps you would like to go and make sure our son’s all right, and hasn’t escaped out the window.” Adam went over to the sink and filled a glass with water. “I’m going to bed.”
I collapsed on the couch, burying my head in my hands. I felt Adam's hand on my shoulder.
“Come to bed, Georgia. We’re too exhausted to sort anything out tonight.”
I looked at him, unable for a moment to speak, my anger gone. I wanted to touch his face. “I’m sorry, sorry, sorry. I wish I’d never waited up for you.” I screwed tight my eyes and then opened them again. “Did you sleep with Julia?”
“Oh Georgia, no, of course I didn’t,” Adam said. “We’ll sort it out. Just let me in more.”
“I will, I’ll try. I’ll be better, I promise. I can’t keep putting us through this. Christ, Adam, Lara can’t stand being near us. Our own daughter. How could we let it get to this? What if something happens to her tonight with this Tony?” I stared at Adam and saw a flash of my own fear reflected in his eyes. Then he shook his head.
“Lara will be fine, the little minx. You go and check on Finbar, and then let’s get to bed. I think you need a long cuddle.”
My eyes filled. “Yes please.”
Chapter 11
I’m being stuffed into a dark place. A wooden coffin. Bang, bang, bang— my heart is pounding through me. Shrieking forms staring in, Adam and Lara above me, faces distorted, crying, screaming, pressing me down, down, into the deep hole. Dank wet smell, death, blood. My hands, forcing a body into the coffin. Falling onto two bodies, white and cold, their red hair flying in my face and wrapping around my arms, pulling me in. The lid closing over me, darkness, bang, bang, bang, nails driving into the coffin lid. Push on the lid, must have air, light, suffocating. Bang, bang, bang. Hands grabbing me, shaking me. Adam’s voice.
My eyes snapped open and I sat up abruptly, my heart slowly slowing as I took in the familiar shapes of our bedroom. The rain was no longer drumming on the roof and I shook my head to drive out the nightmare.
Adam jerked beside me. “What’s that? Hell, it’s someone banging on the door.”
I turned and saw his face in the streetlight glaring through a crack in the curtains. He was shoving
the covers back and reaching for his dressing gown.
My voice came out in a whisper. “Who can it be? It’s three in the morning.” The events of last night were vibrating in my head.
“It’ll be Lara. She probably forgot her keys.”
“Do you think so? Adam, be careful.” I was still whispering. “What if it isn’t?”
“A burglar is hardly going to knock on the door, silly.” Adam was already out in the passage and stumbling down the stairs.
I knew this wasn’t Lara returning, but something much worse. My heart hammering, I clung to the bannister as Adam flicked the hall light on and fumbled with the lock on the front door. The banging stopped as he pulled the door open and exposed two cops standing under the porch light. The thought flashed through my mind that we were in a cheap TV drama. The image intensified as the taller one whipped out his ID and held it up for Adam to inspect.
“We’re the police.” His voice was loud and he shoved his ID card out of sight. “Is this the Grayson residence?” he said, his voice lower.
“Come in,” Adam said.
How normal he sounds.
“I’m Adam Grayson.”
The cops entered, wiping their shoes vigorously on the doormat.
I was beside Adam. “What is it?” My voice was trembling. “It’s Lara, isn’t it? Something’s happened to her.”
The woman cop touched my arm. “Mrs. Grayson?”
I nodded, mute with fear.
“I’m PC Kathy Marsh, and this is PC Neville Mason. Let’s all sit down. I’m afraid we have something to tell you.”
I felt Adam’s arm on my back, guiding me into the family room. My body shaking in my thin nightgown I sat down, grabbing Adam’s hand as he sat beside me. As if from far away, I heard the man say, “Is Lara your daughter?”
I heard a gasp—my own—and Adam’s nails bit into my hand. I nodded again and concentrated on the cop’s mouth, willing her to tell us that Lara had been taken into the station because she was drunk, or drugged, or had robbed a bank. Anything at all, as long as it wasn’t what I knew it was, and had known since I first heard the banging on the door.
“Yes, yes, Lara is our daughter.” Adam’s voice sent shivers through me.
“I’m afraid she’s been in an accident…”
My mind went blank as the officer continued, “She has a head injury and some other injuries, and she’s been taken to City Hospital.”
Finbar was beside me on the couch and I hugged him close with my other arm. Adam was shaking so hard the couch was trembling. “How bad is she?” I heard him ask. “Is she going to… to be all right?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Grayson, we don’t have any details. She was unconscious, but that doesn’t mean anything much until they can check her over properly. We can take you to the hospital now, but you should get some clothes on and a coat. It’s cold outside.”
“Yes,” said Adam. “Clothes and a coat.”
“Mum, she’ll wake up soon, won’t she?”
I turned to Finbar, my hand coming up to stroke his cheek. His skin looks almost green. “She has to be all right, Finbar. You know Lara, she’s a fighter.” I concentrated on speaking calmly.
“But if she has a head injury, you’ll be able to fix her. You know more about head injuries than anyone.” Finbar’s voice sounded doubtful.
I gave him a little push. “Go up and get dressed and Dad and I’ll come up in a minute.” I turned to the police, for a second my heart going out to them as they stood silent, bereft of the right words, watching another family struggle as their lives changed in a moment. How well I knew that feeling. Somehow seeing their stricken faces clicked me into another gear. “I’m a neurosurgeon at City Hospital, so the sooner I get there the better.”
“That is good,” said the woman cop—I had no idea what she’d said her name was. “You’ll be able to find out what’s happening much more quickly than most people could.”
“Has she been taken to A & E?” I was in surgeon mode.
“I’m not sure. Would you like me to see if I can find out?”
“No. I’ll phone in myself.” I realized I was still holding Adam’s hand and let it go. “Adam, come on, we need to get dressed and you can get the car out while I’m phoning the hospital.”
“Would you like us to drive you, Doctor?”
“That would be good, I suppose. You might get there faster than we could.” As I followed Adam to the stairs it occurred to me they hadn’t said what sort of accident it was. I’d assumed it was a car accident, but is that what they’d actually said? Adam had disappeared into our bedroom. I turned back to the police. “Was it a car accident? Who was driving? Were there any others involved?”
“It was a head-on collision with a lamp-post. The car seems to have skidded out of control on a corner on these wet roads. Fortunately there wasn’t another vehicle involved, but I’m afraid the driver didn’t make it.”
I sank down on the stairs, bile filling my mouth. “God, who was the driver, do you know?”
“I believe it was a young man called Tony Kerrigan. Did you know him?”
“No, but we knew Lara had gone out in a car with a Tony, and also a girl called Selina. Is she all right?” My voice was shaking again.
“It seems she has only a few bruises. She identified the others in the car. Your daughter was in the front passenger’s seat, and with the head-on collision the two front seats took most of the impact.”
“Did they have seat belts on? Airbags?” I was desperate for some magical mitigating factor that would save Lara's brain.
“Your daughter and the girl in the back were belted in, but the driver wasn’t. And the car was an old one and didn’t have airbags. This must be dreadful for you, Mrs. Gray… Dr. Grayson. Teenagers will be teenagers, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”
“I suppose they were drunk as well?” I said, already knowing the answer. This is happening to us, to us.
“We don’t have that information yet. They’ll test their blood-alcohol levels at the hospital.”
And at post-mortem. I silently thanked the gods for Lara's unthinking action to belt up, ingrained into her from birth.
Adam and Finbar were coming down the stairs, coats on, and Adam was holding his mobile out to me.
“Hurry up and ring the hospital and get dressed. We have to go.” His voice was under control but his hand shook as I took the phone.
As we pushed through the massive double doors that led into A & E, I saw a familiar figure striding along in front of us. Accelerating my already rapid pace, I caught up with the tall man who glanced at me in surprise, and, without slowing, spoke to me. “Georgia, what are you doing here?”
“Lara's been brought in; she was in a car accident and has a head injury. Is that why you’re here?” My words came out in a rush.
“I didn’t realize. Hell, Georgia, that’s rough,” said David. “I’ve only got here myself. I haven’t seen her yet, but unless there’s been another accident, I suppose it must be her.”
“I haven’t seen her either. I’m glad you’re on, David. I would have called you in anyway if there were any problems. I don’t want the A & E night shift messing around.” I took Adam's arm as he and Finbar caught up with us.
“Hullo, Adam. Hi, Finbar,” David said. “Try not to worry; Lara will probably be fine in no time.”
“Why would they call you in if she is going to be fine? They only call in the neurosurgeon in the middle of the night for serious cases, surely?” Adam's voice was hoarse with fear.
“Not at all. The thing is that with a comatose patient it’s difficult to tell how serious it is at first. She’s probably already coming round.” The usual hopeful platitudes tripped off David’s tongue.
“She’ll be all right, Dad, she has to be,” said Finbar. Adam reached out for our son’s hand, his knuckles white as he gripped it.
Three silent men occupied the waiting area, identifiable as motorbike riders by their black leat
her pants and jackets and the crash helmets by their chairs. I steered my own family towards a door marked STAFF ONLY off the public waiting room. “You’ll be better in here. I’ll go with David and see what’s happening. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” I brushed Adam's cheek with my lips and smiled at my son, trying so hard to be brave. “Sweetheart, why don’t you make a strong cup of tea for your dad, and you should have one too. The tea things are over on the trolley.”
“OK, Mum, but hurry up and see Lara. Dad and I’ll be all right.”
“I know you will.” I kissed the top of Finbar’s head before following David, who had already disappeared through another door off the public waiting area, this one with an even more daunting sign, AUTHORIZED STAFF ONLY. A nurse came towards me, obviously alerted to my presence by David.
“Dr. Grayson, over here,” she said, not attempting any niceties. “Your daughter has been stabilized and we’re taking her down to CT in a minute.” She pulled back the flowered curtain hiding a cubicle. Between the nurses and doctors surrounding the high bed I could see Lara's body stretched out on the hard surface of the orange plastic spinal board. My gut turned over as I looked at the scene before me—my daughter’s head smattered with blood, clamped in a cervical collar, and her nose and mouth covered by an oxygen mask. I took in a shaky breath. At least she hasn’t been intubated.
An intravenous line snaked from Lara's right arm to a drip, and an oximeter was attached to her finger. Stuck to her skin above the green drape covering her from her breasts—making such small bumps in the cloth—to her upper thighs, I could see the white circular sensors leading to the cardiac monitor, broadcasting reassuringly regular blips. Extending out from the lower end of the drape was a Foley catheter, emptying into a bag swinging below the bed. I felt a fleeting relief that there was no telltale sign of blood in her urine. Shifting my gaze to Lara's left arm lying taped to her chest at a strange angle, I saw the white bone protruding from where her elbow should be. I swallowed, pushing back the taste of panic. Lara's legs extending from the drapes were smeared with blood, and a young doctor was sitting on the far side of the bed, stapling up a gash in her left thigh.