Guilty

by Siobhan MacDonald

  He stopped himself, again surprised at sharing so much. He hadn’t expected to give voice to this latest concern. He needed to be careful not to head off on a tangent again.

  ‘Please, go on,’ said Terence.

  Luke settled back. The line of questioning appeared to be safe for now.

  ‘The way things are at the moment, Alison is totally absorbed with her campaign. And of course there’s all that wind farm carry-on up on Lough Carberry.’ Luke shrugged. ‘The thing about Alison is that she has to be at the centre of every shindig, big or small – fundraising for a local playground, birthday parties at retirement homes … you name it, Alison’s at the heart of it.’

  ‘You feel left out, is that it?’

  Luke shook his head.

  ‘It’s Nina really,’ he said. ‘She’s the one who feels left out—’

  Luke was suddenly distracted by a flashing in his peripheral vision. The flashing often heralded the beginnings of a migraine. The conversation looked like they were going down the same dead-end route as the last time. ‘Can I suggest something here?’ said Luke. ‘You’re the professional in this situation, Terence, but I have to say I think we’re heading off on a wild goose chase with this.’

  Terence blinked, bemused. ‘Yes, I agree it may seem like that. You’re an intelligent person, Luke,’ he said. ‘I don’t discuss theory with every patient, but I’d like you to understand what it is we’re trying to do here.’

  Luke didn’t have time for the scenic route. Why could the guy not just get on with things?

  ‘Something has happened to you, Luke,’ Terence continued sombrely. ‘With your cooperation we can discover what that something might be. Or at the very least to acknowledge it, and to bring it into awareness.’

  ‘Look, I know that this is only my second session,’ Luke responded, ‘but I need to fix whatever it is that’s happening to me. And urgently. With this in mind I’d like to come to what I think the event is.’

  Terence leaned back considering this request. ‘All right then,’ he said. ‘I’m listening.’

  Luke swallowed. He felt clammy. The seat underneath him suddenly felt very hard. He cast his mind back to a night six weeks earlier. It was time. The time had come for him to talk about Tanya.

  It had been busy that night. He wasn’t usually called to the Resucc room but the hospital’s one emergency paediatrician had gone off duty. The girl’s injuries were extensive. She had a blunt rupture of the aorta. Most victims died straightaway, but this girl, his patient, was somehow still alive when they brought her in.

  There were pelvic, rib and open ulna fractures along with facial lacerations and contusions. Even if they saved her, she would never be pretty again. Her face would stop and shock. Luke focused on the task in hand, blocking out her youth and all that potential hanging in the balance. It didn’t make a difference. He couldn’t stop the bleeding. The girl arrested.

  There were moments that stood out in Luke’s career. He knew, standing there, that this was such a moment. It would be with him for ever. The deadly hiatus. That deafening hush, that sacred silence before the team dispersed to treat another patient.

  ‘How can this happen?’ the mother whimpered. She leaned against a wall on the corridor, blood and matter congealing on her blouse. The girl’s father had an arm around her shoulder. He too was sprayed in the girl’s blood.

  ‘How could anyone do this?’ the father asked, his voice thick with emotion.

  ‘I’m so very sorry,’ said Luke. He always felt inadequate in dealing with the bereaved. ‘Her injuries were … well, they were catastrophic.’

  The mother moaned.

  ‘Tell me,’ said the father. ‘Tell me exactly what they were. I want to know.’

  The mother turned, burying her head against the father’s chest. Luke told them about the thoracic injury, the fatal injury. There was no need to tell them everything. That was for the police. They didn’t need to know just then. He spoke as gently as he could, all the while horror was welling up inside him.

  His voice shook as the words coming from his mouth stuck on the dryness of his tongue. His compassion for the parents was supplanted by alarm. The mother lifted her head and looked at him strangely, an extra layer of confusion and bewilderment on her ravaged face. The father clasped her even tighter. The tattoo on his forearm spelled out the name of the child. TANYA.

  ‘She was a little girl,’ said the father. ‘I am going to kill the monster who did this.’

  The mother went deathly pale.

  Luke was struck by an urge to run. His eyes darted up and down the corridor looking for someone, anyone to take these people off his hands. From the corner of his eye he sensed a movement. When he turned to the couple again, the mother had crumpled onto the floor. She was slumped in a heap against the wall. Thankfully, a passing nurse happened by and Luke scurried back to Emergency to immerse himself in the commotion of another trauma.

  It was amid these events that Luke was convinced his unravelling had started. As he finished recounting the episode to Terence, he wondered if he’d come anywhere close to describing the debilitating fear he’d experienced that night. The feelings of shame, of loathing, the slipping gravitas.

  ‘We’re on to something now, all right,’ said Terence. ‘We’re cutting through the thorns.’ He drew quotation marks.

  Luke wished he wouldn’t do that.

  ‘However, you do this kind of work all the time, Luke. This is your profession. Sometimes things go well, sometimes they go wrong. Perhaps what you’re telling me about this girl is indeed at the heart of it. But then again, what if it’s a symptom rather than the cause? I’m not saying there isn’t something in what you’ve just told me. But I think we should explore things further.’

  Luke crossed his arms. He said nothing more. He’d been in this position before. In the headmaster’s wood-panelled office at boarding school, being exhorted to rat on Nathan Nolan. Nolan had been the ringleader in an initiation rite involving a first-year.

  Old Froggy refused to believe that Luke had any direct involvement, suspecting him only of witnessing the incident. The first-year had been blindfolded, laid on his back, tied to a plank and was told he was being levered out the top-floor window of the dormitory block. Unknown to the boy, the plank was levered on a bed and not out of a window, but that was immaterial to the kid.

  A nice lad like Luke Forde would never be a willing participant in an incident like that. That’s what all the teachers said. Forde was a decent guy who’d never cause a lad to lose control of his bowels and shit himself in fear. Happily for Luke, Old Froggy agreed.

  Luke got away with murder at St Aloysius School for Boys. Everyone felt sorry for him after what had happened to his parents. Though it was true that Nolan was one hell of a prick, there was no way Luke was ratting on the guy. First rule of boarding school: no snitching.

  ‘You’ve done really well so far,’ Terence coaxed.

  But Luke was done. He tapped his foot. He was saying nothing further. He wanted to be free of this room, free of the rumbling cadence of Terence’s voice, free of his forensic stare.

  ‘I think what you’ve described here, Luke, the incident with the child in the hospital … Tanya … it’s only a symptom. I think the real problem, what it is that’s really bothering you, lies further back.’

  Luke shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. I think you’re wrong about that. For me, that is when it started.’

  Terence waited. The therapist had the ability to administer silence like a truth serum. But Luke had made his mind up. This was a mistake. This therapy lark would make things worse. He had shared as much as he was going to.

  Terence leaned towards him. ‘You know what? I’m sensing that’s enough for today. Perhaps next time we’ll go back and talk about Nina?’

  Luke considered this a moment. Maybe. Maybe he could do that. But it would require a much longer session. And where would he start?

  Family Dinner

&nb
sp; ‘What a head wreck of a day.’ Trudging into the kitchen, Luke pulled off his scarf. That latest session with Terence was heavy going.

  ‘An election campaign is no joke either.’ Alison was sitting on a high chair at the island. ‘Nine more days to go.’

  Despite her complaint, there were no signs of flagging that Luke could see. Her dress looked neat, her make-up fresh, and she smelled of perfume.

  ‘Nina’s making dinner,’ Alison whispered. ‘Lentil stew.’ She pulled a face. ‘Smells delicious,’ she said loudly. She held up her glass of wine. ‘Want one?’

  Luke declined.

  Nina was busy at the hob. ‘As I keep saying, Mum, it doesn’t have to be all about meat, you know.’

  ‘It’s a good source of iron, sweetie.’ Alison threw her eyes to heaven.

  Alison was a carnivore. Luke remembered an occasion in their flat in Edinburgh early in their marriage. The arrangement was whoever was home first would cook the evening meal. If Luke suspected he was in danger of landing the job, he’d park out of sight up the hill and wait for Alison to get home. He wasn’t fond of cooking and preferred to use his time to study.

  On the occasion in question, having waited half an hour, hunger got the better of Luke. He gave up, went into the flat, and set to preparing dinner. Alison turned up shortly after. In the tiny kitchen, with his back to her, he talked about a procedure he’d be observing in Great Ormond Street. A film of oil was sizzling in the pan.

  ‘So we’re off to London now, are we?’ she asked. ‘And what about the senior reg post here?’

  It had been Alison’s suggestion to move to the UK from Ireland where his prospects of promotion seemed speedier.

  ‘You must be in with a chance of that, surely?’

  ‘Let’s wait and see.’

  He turned to get the rounds of steak. To his surprise, one remained, a damp red stain where the other had been.

  ‘Where …?’

  She giggled. ‘I got carried away,’ she said, grinning. Her square, prominent teeth were coated in blood. Luke shook his head, calling her a cannibal. It became a joke between them.

  These days, since the election campaign had started, he saw very little of his wife. It had been a while since Alison had joined him and Nina for dinner. ‘Fancy a walk afterwards, Alison?’ he asked. ‘We could catch up.’

  ‘Oh, Luke, I’m so sorry. Roddy’s collecting me shortly. We’re heading to Crow Hall to go over stuff with Dad. As you know, election strategy is one of Roddy’s things.’

  Luke shrugged. Each rebuttal stung a little less. Roddy Gilligan was Master of the Scarigell Hunt and his estate bordered Crow Hall. Roddy was also partner in Alison’s PR firm, Thompson Consulting. He would be running the PR firm if Alison got elected.

  ‘Pity you weren’t at the hospital when I popped by today,’ said Alison. She was texting. ‘Fran said you were out and your phone was off.’

  ‘In that case Fran must be mistaken.’ He was just as casual. ‘I don’t recall having left the hospital at all today.’ He turned to Nina. ‘Maybe you’ll come for a walk with me?’

  ‘Sorry, Dad. I’m heading out to see Sebastian.’ She came towards the island with a steaming pot of lentils.

  Alison set her glass down on the island with a clatter. Her eyes flashed at the very mention of Sebastian.

  ‘I’ll go for a walk with the dog,’ Luke said quickly. Their fragile peace took effort. ‘I need a walk to clear my head. The junior doctors are threatening to strike. I’ve got to think about contingency.’

  ‘The very idea of junior doctors on strike …’ Alison picked up a cautious forkful of food. ‘Dad was saying a strike would never have happened in his day.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Luke too picked up his fork. ‘Why should the young bulls have better working conditions than the old bulls? Why shouldn’t the junior doctors be up to their necks in muck and bullets like they were? That the gist of it? What about patient safety, Alison? What about duty of care? Shit happens when doctors are tired.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ Nina groaned. ‘You’ve set Dad off on a rant again.’

  Alison was examining her phone. ‘You’re right, Luke. You’re absolutely right,’ she said, distracted. She hadn’t really been listening.

  Nina’s stew was vile. It was an effort to swallow. Nina was studying them both. Luke made appreciative noises. He’d slip his plate to Duffy when she wasn’t looking.

  ‘Maybe Mum could agitate for better conditions if she gets elected,’ Nina offered. She was trying hard.

  ‘When I get elected, sweetie,’ Alison cautioned. ‘You’ll be there for me – both of you – on election night?’ She dropped her knife and fork and took Luke and Nina by the hand. She looked from one to the other.

  ‘Sure, Mum. I’ll be there. I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘Thanks, sweetie. I want things to go OK.’ Alison looked at Luke. ‘I want everyone to know what a nice ordinary family we have. That’s what the electorate wants. People like themselves.’

  She turned to Nina. Her expression changed.

  ‘And on the night, Nina, you might wear something a little less, a little less …’ Alison searched for a word.

  ‘Boho? Alternative?’ suggested Nina, smiling.

  ‘Well, sweetie, maybe something a little less … lesbian.’

  Nina opened her mouth but no words came out.

  A flash of light flared at the bottom of the garden, breaking the tension. It was at the water’s edge. Duffy skidded to the window, going berserk. He snapped the air, patrolling the length of the glass, barking into the dark at the unknown menace.

  ‘Come here, you daft animal.’ Luke bent to soothe the dog. Duffy enjoyed a cuddle as much as Luke. The animal didn’t check up on Luke or cause him grief.

  ‘Bloody hacks,’ Alison muttered. ‘They must have had at least twenty shots of me today. Why do they insist on pursuing me in my home?’

  Luke and Nina looked at one another. Alison adored the spotlight and her protest lacked conviction.

  ‘Probably a passing cruiser,’ Nina said. ‘It’s not all about you, you know.’

  ‘Well, actually, it is, sweetie. At least for the next nine days.’

  Luke shot a look at Nina, advising her to leave it. Nina got down from her chair and headed to the magazine rack in the garden room. Returning, she handed her mother a medical journal. ‘This arrived in the post. Have you seen it?’

  Luke cringed. He’d seen the journal in the hospital. Alison put her phone aside. ‘Wow,’ she said, scanning the cover. ‘That’s fantastic.’ Luke could see the speeding neurons. She was thinking, twisting, manoeuvring, slotting ideas into place.

  There was Luke on the cover, surrounded by hordes of smiling children. It had a cheesy caption. The only blessing was that he wasn’t grinning like a pompous dick. He looked decidedly dour. He hated having his photograph taken. Professor Luke Forde, Cardiothoracic Surgeon With a Big Heart read the caption. Inside the journal was an article about his part in a rheumatic heart-disease prevention programme in Sudan.

  Alison pulled a face. ‘Pity the press covering this election can’t come up with any decent soundbites for me.’

  ‘You’re not exactly making it easy for them,’ Nina said.

  Luke tensed. Alison glared.

  ‘Apart from your dad and your grandpa serving in government, what do they have to go on?’

  ‘I really don’t know what you mean, Nina.’

  Nina’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you stand for, Mum? What are the issues you feel passionate about?’

  Alison looked at Nina as if she were crazy.

  ‘I would have thought that was perfectly obvious, to any thinking person at least. I stand for the people of County Clare,’ she said. ‘The people of Gortnashee, Kyledurka, Tullabrack, and all the towns and far-flung reaches of this large constituency.’ Her voice grew shrill and indignant. ‘Our friends and neighbours around Lough Carberry, the people I grew up with. That’s who I’m passionat
e about. Is that good enough for you?’

  Nina’s eyes glinted.

  ‘Ah, yeah, but that’s hardly an election manifesto, now is it? Where do you stand on hunting, for example? OK, forget that. We know your take on that. Ripping an animal limb from limb is A-OK. So, moving on, let’s take the proposed extension to the wind farm. What’s your take on that?’

  ‘Sweetie, I think we all know that clean energy is the way to go.’ Alison’s eyes flashed dangerously, her voice dropped.

  Nina shrugged. ‘I’m only trying to help you out here. I’m talking about the farmers bordering Roddy Gilligan. You think they’ll give a rat’s ass about clean energy if they can’t sleep a wink for the turbine noise at night?’

  ‘That’s what they’re saying in the town?’

  ‘In town and all around the lough. The dogs in the street know Roddy wants those turbines. Everyone knows he’s been bending the ear of Zephyr Energy.’ Nina was triumphant.

  ‘And that Roddy is my business partner in Thompson Consulting …’ Alison looked thoughtful. ‘Well, Nina, I must say I think you have a point. It may be that I should call an emergency meeting in the town hall to allow local people to debate the issue. Yes, I think that’s a good idea.’

  Nina was taken aback.

  ‘Thanks, I guess,’ she said, unsure. ‘I was just curious about your agenda.’

  The intercom buzzed, interrupting them.

  ‘I’m just as curious, sweetie,’ said Alison getting to her feet. ‘Since you started seeing Sebastian, I’m not at all sure of your agenda either.’

  Nina went stock still.

  ‘Have the last word if you must, Mum. It’s so pathetic.’

  ‘Oh, there’s nothing pathetic about me, my dear.’

  Luke couldn’t tell if Nina was going to explode or not. He held his breath. He laid a hand on hers. Wisely, she said nothing.

  He followed Alison into the hall where she picked up her laptop and what looked suspiciously like an overnight bag. She proceeded briskly to the front door, slinging her coat over her arm.