Choices Shape, Losses Break

by Nia Lucas

  Rosa goes to call Ti, her sobs soon audible from the reception area as she fills him in. A nurse appears, gently explaining that Shay has been through the ‘Crash Bed’ and is now being prepped for surgery while Lee’s still being assessed.

  The nurse holds my hand and looks at me kindly, “They are very poorly Lorna but the doctors are doing everything that they can, they’re in good hands. Now, let’s have a look at you, you've had a terrible night of it, haven't you love”, and with her concern, I start to sob again and she hugs me.

  She pats my hand, “So which one is your boyfriend sweetheart? Hey?”

  I blurt in between snotty sobs,. “Both of them were”, she does a wonderful job of looking unperturbed.

  My ears prick up at a loud voice in reception calling the receptionist, “An aggravating lassie”, as Jock appears and rushes towards me, clasping me in a ‘Hi-Karate’ scented hug as he asks,

  “Where are ma boys darlin’?”, his big booming voice wobbly.

  Before I can form proper words, another nurse comes to inform us that Shay has now gone down to theatre, information that makes us both whimper but she says that Lee is available for next of kin to be with him.

  The nurse looks at Jock, eyebrow raised, inviting him to fall into that category as he growls, “I'm their guardian and this wee lassie is er, well, she's, er.....”, Jock looks at me for inspiration.

  I nod determinedly, “I'm Lee's girlfriend”, Jock looks gobsmacked at the news.

  We're taken through the lines of cubicles to where Lee is lying on a bed, surrounded by wires and monitors. His skin is dull and waxy and he looks fragile, his eyes closed in pain.

  I pause at the curtain, grabbing Jock's arm in panic, “We broke up Jock, earlier tonight, I don't think Lee'll want me here. They told me to fuck off ”, I let out a sob.

  Jock throws me a soft, kind look, “Ach lassie, those wee bastards have told me tae fuck off more times than I've had a shite. You get yer arse in here and talk tae him”, and Jock drags me in.

  Jock goes to the head of the bed, fondly patting Lee's twists, “If this is your way o'getting out of our lunch on Monday Leon, I cannae help but feel you've taken it a bit tae far, son”, Jock speaks softly and I see Lee's lips twitch but his eyes stay closed.

  I suspect he's sedated but he manages to croak, “Shay?”

  Jock’s lip wobbles as he tries to reassure, “He's havin' a wee operation now laddie, I'll tell yous as soon as we know. You OK son? You sore? Jesus, you wee wallopers will be the fucking death o'me. Don't you dare do this again y'hear”, and Jock's voice cracks.

  “Shortie?”, Lee's voice is a whisper

  I rush forward, “I'm here”, I gently take his bandaged hand, pressing a kiss to it.

  “Shortie I.....”, he stops and breathes heavily

  I panic, “Shhhhhh, Lee just rest, we'll talk about it when you're better. I was so scared Lee, just you get better, OK?”, I watch as he nods almost imperceptibly and his muscles relax.

  We sit there in silence, watching him sleep until a young and tired looking doctor in his late twenties comes to speak to us. He explains that Lee needs to have surgery to check that the deep stab wound to his stomach has not perforated anything. His hand and arms have some very deep, nasty lacerations which have been stitched and, by some miracle, shouldn't impact on his motor skills although he'll have some significant scarring.

  The doctor adds, “The position of his wounds suggest that Leon here was defending his friend. From what I've heard, if that lad had sustained even one additional laceration, his blood loss would have been catastrophic. Leon has most likely saved his friend's life through his actions”, and with a smile, he walks away.

  Jock and I, at this news, have a cuddle and a little weep, Lee unaware in his drugged-up state.

  Lee goes down for surgery nearly an hour later, Shay now having been in theatre for over two hours already. Ti’s arrived and is in pale-faced shock in the waiting room, Rosa having shown him my bloodied clothes bundled into a rubbish bag. As we wait, the police take the opportunity to speak to Rosa and I. Desperate to keep them away from my parents, I give them the pub as my address and in a moment of inspiration, ask if Jock can be my Appropriate Adult. The earnest looking officer spends forty minutes taking statements detailing what we saw, who we saw, what I'd seen at lunchtime when I went to the shop. The police tell me that they have in fact got four suspects in custody. I don't feel anything when they say this, I don't care if they never catch the attackers. I just want Shay O'Driscoll to smile at me and call me 'Little Red'. It makes me cry to think that even if he makes a recovery, I don't expect that will ever happen. The police warn that I may be needed to give further evidence. I shrug my agreement. They start to raise their concern about my age and the dangerous situation I’ve been in tonight but they are mercifully distracted by a drunk kicking off in reception and they leave our conversation unfinished.

  At 9am, Rosa and Ti reluctantly return to Rosa's house and I agree that I’ll follow them, as soon as things are more clear. She hugs me fiercely and lets me sob gently on her shoulder before leaving.

  Jock and I are woken from our chairs in the family room a few hours later by Shay's surgeon who tells us that Shay will be OK, despite technically dying twice; once in the car park and once on the operating table. He tells us that the knife wound to his chest not only grazed his heart, literally grazed it but another wound also missed his liver by millimetres,

  “He had a wound to his lung but it was minor and a relatively easy repair compared to his other injuries. He will be sore for a good few weeks but we anticipate a full recovery”, the surgeon smiles and Jock and I, in our sleep deprived and slightly hysterical states, thank the man to the point of scaring him.

  Shortly afterwards Lee's surgeon, a composed and concise young woman, tells us that Lee is absolutely fine, no perforation and that with any luck, he might be discharged in a day or so. She shakes our hands and leaves. We are elated and delirious, Jock spending a small fortune on the vending machine before we traverse the corridors of this cavernous place and locate them. They are in adjacent post-op beds, Lee sound asleep and Shay with significantly more wires and machines attached to him. Deathly pale and with dried blood still covering some parts of his skin, Shay remains pretty drugged up.

  As we approach he starts to moan and move, Jock grabbing the chair and sitting down, stroking his head and muttering to him, “Seamus lad, you've fucking outdone yoursel' this time laddie, you scared the shite out of me and yer pals here”, a tear rolls down Jock's face as he pats Shay's arm.

  “Lee?”, Shay's voice is a croak

  Jock snorts, “That daft bugger's here in the bed next tae yours. You've both been through the wars”, Shay's lips twitch.

  Jock carries on, “Wee Lorna is here too lad, she's been here all night wi' the two of you, she's fair knackered”, Jock smiles at me warmly but I wait, not smiling, because I see Shay frown.

  His eyes scrunched, he slurs, “Don' wan' her here. Tell 'er fuck go 'way. Finished”, and his eyes flicker.

  It feels like being hit, even though I expected it. I nod, my lips trembling. I knew. Jock looks like he's in agony about what to say. He shakes his head, patting Shay's hand and walking towards me to offer me comfort

  I hold out my hand, like a stop sign, “S'OK Jock, I just needed to know that they were OK. I, er, I have to go now. Look after them, I know you always have but y'know, carry on”, and without any other interaction, I turn and run, my bag of bloodied clothes and my clubbing bag swinging like pendulums as I fly down endless corridors blinded by tears.

  I’m not sure how I get to Rosa's but I do, handing money to a taxi driver as I wobble to her front door. I collapse in her hallway as she holds me, stroking my hair while I howl my pain.

  In an unexpected move, Ti lifts me off the floor and carries me gently up the stairs, his eyes kind and concerned as his deep voice rumbles, “You need to sleep menina, you gotta rest now, yeah”, Rosa lies down n
ext to me on the bed and stays with me until I fall asleep, stroking my face and weeping quietly as my heart hurts with every beat.

  The next morning, Ti drives us home, Rosa’s concern oozing from the front seat as I huddle in silence on the backseat wearing borrowed clothes. Deposited back at home by a sombre looking Ti, I go straight up to my room and stay there for twenty four hours, undisturbed because Dan’s at a mate’s house. My parents don’t question my isolation, the muffled sobs from my room or my pallid, insomnia-bruised face.

  Chapter Eight

  Thursday 20th April 1995

  My life plods on with little outward indication that the bottom has fallen out of it. I wake in my bed sweating and sobbing every night, I feel sick to my stomach every morning and I spend the days trying not to remember what Lee's desperate pleas sounded like or how Shay's breathing gurgled from the blood in his lungs. I’m finding it hard to eat. I submerge myself in school work and revision, making surprising progress in my determination to focus on anything other than them. Han knows that something’s happened and she gives me space, never pushing but I see the hurt and confusion in her face from my lack chat and investment. Rosa just looks at me, her eyes watery and concerned.

  I rang the flat twice. Nobody answered but to be honest, I'd have hung up if they did. I torment myself at night with scenarios in which the boys die in hospital and nobody knows to call me. I howl into my pillow, unable to contain the raw pain. I spent the first few days thinking that maybe, maybe, Lee would call. I thought that after sleeping together, he might fight for me but there is nothing from him and as a result, I must accept that as always, I mean nothing.

  As I finish getting ready for work for Dad calls me from downstairs, “Lorna, visitor”, the prospect of having to fake ‘okayness’ for Han makes me wince.

  It’s not Han in my hallway though, “Hey Davies, fancy a walk?”, Nico’s lopsided grin is uncertain, his lightly-freckled face worried as he scans my pallid face. He’s been in Italy for the two weeks of the Easter break and even in my dulled state, I’m surprised by just how pleased I am to see him, how much relief I feel from his presence.

  I don’t need to fake a smile, “Hey D’Angelo”

  Nico walks with me to work, the streets shiny from the rain in the damp spring evening. He bangs on about his holiday, he’d arrived home about two hours ago but he’d had a good time although he goes a bit shifty at one point when I ask him if he chatted any Italian girls up. We chat about our exams, about Han and Chris and even though he makes no comment about London, I sense that Rosa has told him what happened at the weekend because his anxious gaze never leaves my face. When we reach the pub, we sit down in companionable silence in the beer garden.

  Nico gently takes my chilly hand, “ Davies, when I’m around, I’m not gonna let you get hurt or scared. I just want you to know that cara. I’ll always keep you safe”, the kind sincerity in his green eyes makes my breath hitch.

  I nod and lean my head on his shoulder, letting a few tears fall as Nico holds my hand. He presses a gentle kiss to my hair and whispers, “It’ll be OK Davies”, into my curls and I relish the comforting warmth of him. Work beckons and we part shortly afterwards with a hug, nothing further discussed.

  Thursday 18th May 1995

  Despite the pain and humiliation I still feel, my life has carried on. The taunts at school are weirdly muted but then again, everything is. I’m zombie plodding, focussing on my school work and my friends at home, only allowing myself indulgent tears in the dead of night. I push them from my mind as much as possible but alone in my bed it’s Lee’s sad eyes that haunt my dreams. I’ve been spending most of my spare time with Nico in a natural quartet with Han and Chris. Nico, he's increasingly important to me, distracting me effectively with an easy friendship and funny chat. Friendship is safest, friendship means I get to keep him in my life. Friendship means I don’t risk losing him. Despite the ongoing cousin-on-cousin verbal abuse, my bond with Nico has softened Rosa’s view of him. I feel as if I’ve brokered some family unity as the two of them almost willingly spend time together when I’m around.

  Tonight we're all heading to the 'Blind Eye' night at the local nightclub, where they turn a blind eye and admit anyone who looks over sixteen. It’s the last group 'hurrah' before we all drown in exams and excitement is high. Having booked the night off from work, my parents think I'm at Han's, Han's mum thinks she's at mine but we’re actually all staying at Chris' as his parents are away. I’m pointedly ignoring Nico’s eyebrow-waggling comments about us sharing a room.

  Han and Rosa met properly a few weeks ago and got on like a house on fire, making me regret not introducing them sooner. Rosa made me tell Han the real details of Easter Sunday, ten days after it happened, her shaking fingers stroking my hair as I sobbed my way through the retelling. At one point, I ran to the loo to be sick, Han following and clutching me to her as I cried. Rosa remained silent, still seeming to struggle to talk about what she actually witnessed that night. Rosa and I never discuss the boys, they’ve become characters in what feels like False Memory Syndrome.

  The last four weeks have allowed me to convince myself that I was swept away by that possibility of being wanted, drawn into the allure of belonging , that my bloodied, hysterical declarations of love were simply shock at what I was witnessing. I convince myself that if I can just get through the exams, it will all fade away like a bad dream. I hang out with my friends and my brother, I endure my school-based aggro, I work at the pub, I survive my parents and I pretend that I don't still fall asleep at night seeing bloodied bodies and sapphire-blue eyes, lips that smirk or brown eyes full of vulnerability. In the dark I try to silence the voice. Slut,

  In the club tonight, Han's eyes are like soup plates as she watches Rosa and I throw our well practised shapes on the dance floor. A glance at a gobsmacked Nico suggests that he too is impressed, his green eyes sparkling as I gyrate for comedy effect. Nico is wearing a tight black military style shirt which shows off his really good arms, his earring is glinting in the strobe lights and I feel the familiar electric thrum of attraction that I get in his presence. Rosa looks up and shrieks as she spots Ti who’s finally arrived from London and is wending his way across the dance floor, the serious look on his face making both Rosa and I frown. With a kiss for Rosa and a brief greeting, Ti makes the surprising move of leaning into me, holding my arm and pulling me gently towards him to shout in my ear,

  “Menina, I didn't come down here on my own”, and as he pulls away, I see the guilt on Ti's face and I see the corresponding shock and annoyance on Rosa's.

  I’m baffled for a few seconds until I work out what he means. Them.

  My heart beating its way out of my chest, I make a determined effort not to look up and around as I shout back to him, “Ti, I have nothing to say to them, they can fuck off”, my raised voice causes Nico to frown in concern and move closer.

  Rosa is scanning the room furiously and when her lip curls and her eyes narrow, I know that she’s spotted them. With a Herculean effort, I focus all my attention on Nico, whose worried frown evaporates as we dance together. He's got some good moves D'Angelo, and we have genuine fun in the dark, strobe lit club. As Nico messes around with me, I feel the first niggle of unease as I suspect that they may see this and I have no wish to cause trouble but I’m comforted by Nico's proximity, by his warmth and cheeky smile as his hands encircle my waist as we dance. I clock Han and Rosa in furious discussion at the edge of the dance floor. Han is being directed by Rosa to look over to the other side of the club upon which Han's jaw drops in shock. Clearly she’s seen them. I sigh, unable to avoid this nonsense much longer, plus, I need a wee something desperate. I leave Nico with his lads on the dance floor and head for the loos, Han doing her best to look less gobsmacked, Rosa trying to look like she's not shit stirring as they follow me. Neither are successful.

  Congregating in the loos, Rosa spills the beans like a split sack, “Ti’s been getting messages from those dickheads f
or about a fortnight, since Irish got discharged from the hospital. Ti reckons he never told me coz, direct quote, “I value my fuckin' dick”, Rosa air quotes with her fingers and tuts.

  Ti has apparently given the boys a hard time, telling them how devastated I was that Sunday and I feel a rush of affection for Ti at this news. Lee was released from hospital two days after his operation whilst Shay was kept in for eight days, both now living in a new flat a safe distance from The Farm. Three of the lads arrested for the stabbings have been remanded into custody.

  Rosa winces, “That Irish twat said to Ti that he only gave you fucking attitude because they needed you safe and he figured it was the only way to make you leave ‘til it was all sorted”, Rosa sneers, “Thick dickhead said he couldn’t think of no other way to get you to go”, Rosa’s tut echoes off the loo tiles.

  Rose goes on to report that they are apparently here tonight to try and apologise. They’ve supposedly been calling my house for weeks but never get me answering the phone. This may be true; I'm either out with my friends or hiding in my room and Dad has been complaining about nuisance calls for a few weeks. Neither of the boys could drive down here due to their still-healing injuries.

  Rosa sighs, “When Ti said he was coming tonight, they gave him hassle until he agreed to bring them, he says they’ve been proper desperate to see you and make it right”.