by Fay Keenan
‘And that boy… crashing his car and walking away virtually unscathed. If he’s there, I swear I’ll put him in a hospital bed myself.’
‘You don’t know if it was his fault,’ Anna said. ‘We don’t know anything, yet. Please, just try to keep calm.’
The turning for the hospital was up ahead. Making the Land Rover’s engine squawk with rage, Matthew slammed on the brakes and turned down the road that led up to one of the best neurology units in the country. Its setting was rather incongruous, based as it was on the outskirts of the well-to-do village of Frenchay, but Matthew was never going to heed a village speed limit under these circumstances. Tearing up the road, he spun into the hospital car park, found the first space he could and was out of the car before Anna had even got her seatbelt off. As she slammed her car door, all she saw was his retreating back as he sprinted through the hospital’s main entrance.
Maddeningly, there was a queue at the front desk, and, as an inebriated teenager with blood on his face was guided to a wheelchair by his concerned father, and a painfully thin old lady on a walking frame and in a nightgown was manoeuvred to a seat overlooking the car park, Anna could sense Matthew’s tension reaching breaking point. His fists were tightly clenched at his sides, his back ramrod straight.
‘Meredith. Meredith Carter.’ He’d got his breath back by the time the patients in front of him had been redirected. The administrator nodded and turned to look at her computer screen. As she typed in the password for her screen saver, Anna could see Matthew’s set face, jaw almost locked with tension. Eventually, she located the correct window.
‘Ah yes. Brought in by air ambulance from an RTA. And you are?’
‘Her father.’
‘Go up to floor twelve, ward fifty seven. Someone will meet you.’
‘Do you have any other… I mean… can you tell me…’ Matthew shook his head in frustration at his increasing inability to speak.
The receptionist smiled sympathetically. ‘Someone will be there to meet you and answer all your questions.’
Matthew tried to open his mouth but couldn’t speak. Anna nodded at the receptionist. ‘Thank you.’ Taking Matthew’s arm, as for a second he seemed frozen to the spot, she led him to the lift. ‘Come on.’
The lift journey was interminable. As the doors opened, Matthew seemed to recover his senses. Striding from the lift, he accosted the first white coat he saw.
‘Excuse me. My daughter Meredith was brought in?’
The doctor consulted her clipboard. ‘Ah yes. She’s in surgery at the moment. The surgeon, Ms Burke, will be down to see you shortly. Would you like to take a seat in room 73?’
‘Surgery?’ Matthew’s face went from white to grey. ‘Please, can you tell me what they’re operating for?’
The medic shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t have that information. If you go to Room 73, the surgeon will be with you as soon as she can.’
‘Come on, Matthew,’ Anna said gently. ‘Let’s do what the doctor says.’ Taking his hand, she led him, meek as a child, down to the waiting room.
*
‘I don’t know what to do.’ Matthew moved towards the sash window. The darkness outside was punctured only by the orange street lights, their harsh colour dissipating in the onslaught of the rain. Helplessly Anna watched as he leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window.
‘All we can do is wait,’ she said softly. ‘She’s in the best hands, with the best doctors.’ She felt utterly helpless in the face of Matthew’s fear and uncertainty.
‘If anything happens to her… if she… if she dies… I swear—’ Matthew’s hand pressed up against the window and balled into a fist in an attempt to keep control. He turned further away, burying his face into his arm.
‘We have to trust the doctors. They won’t let her down.’ Anna could feel her heart beating wildly, full of fear and horror at the situation they found themselves in. Memories were washing over her of the night of James’ death, and the sensations were dizzying.
‘Anna,’ it was barely a whisper. ‘Oh God, Anna.’ his eyes were two dark caverns of fear and grief as he turned back to look at her. ‘I can’t lose her. Not after fighting so hard to keep her for all these years…’
‘Matthew…’ Anna moved across the waiting room, aching to take him in her arms and soothe away the pain and horror. ‘I’m here.’
Just as she reached him, the door to the waiting room opened and a doctor appeared. Instantly, Matthew’s shutters seemed to come down again. He crossed the small space, moving past Anna to get to the doctor.
‘Mr Carter? I’m Ms Burke. The team and I have just finished operating on Meredith and she’s in recovery.’
‘How is she?’
The doctor gestured to one of the chairs and Matthew sat.
‘She’s in a critical but stable condition. We had to operate to repair an extradural hematoma – a tear in the artery – from where she hit her head in the collision. We’re going to keep monitoring her over the next twenty four hours to see how she’s responding. We’ll be watching closely to ensure that the bleeding has stopped, and to minimise any risk of further damage.’
‘When will she wake up?’
‘She was unconscious when she was brought in, and she may continue to be so for some time after the anaesthetic wears off. If we feel she needs it, we’ll keep her in an induced coma. She’s young, so we’re optimistic she’ll come round of her own accord, but she might need to stay asleep for a little while longer.’
‘Did she have any other injuries?’
‘Cuts and bruises, nothing more. In physiological terms, she escaped fairly lightly.’ Ms Burke noticed the bleak expression on Matthew’s face, and her expression softened. ‘She’s in one of the best neurology units in the country, Mr Carter. We will be doing everything we can to ensure she makes the fullest recovery possible.’
‘And will she… make a full recovery?’
‘As I said, it’s early days. There are a number of longer term symptoms that can arise from this type of injury; I’ll make sure you have as much information as possible as to the kinds of issues with memory and cognition that can occur. But for the moment, we need to treat her immediate injuries. If she needs any kind of rehabilitative treatment, we can assess that over the next few days and weeks.’
The doctor stood back up and consulted her notes. ‘You can come through to recovery and see her.’
Matthew swallowed and nodded. ‘Thank you.’ He stood up. ‘Oh Christ. I’d better contact her mother.’ He cursed as he realised he’d left his phone in the car.
‘Don’t worry,’ Anna said. ‘I’ll pop out and get your mobile.’ She was grateful to have something, anything, to do in the face of so much fear and grief.
Matthew pulled her to him in a rather clumsy embrace. ‘Thank you. And thank you for coming with me.’
As Anna wandered down the corridors and back to where Matthew had parked the car, a creeping sickness in her stomach began to rise. By the time she reached the entrance to the hospital, it had reached her mouth. Rushing for the nearest hedge, she threw up and up and up.
After a few moments, she composed herself. This was not the time to break down. Even two and a half years on, the sight, smell and sounds of a hospital, and the context of her visit, brought back so much from the night of James’ death. She prayed that Matthew wouldn’t have to go through what she went through, and that Meredith would recover. She had no idea what Matthew would do if she didn’t. As the sliding doors of the hospital entrance parted to admit her once again, she felt as though she was entering the gates of hell.
*
Carrying two strong coffees and Matthew’s mobile phone, Anna made her way up to where Meredith had been put in recovery. The eerily silent corridors, strip lighting glaring off polished floors and disinfectant smell all contributed to the grimness of the situation. She passed weary-looking medics on their way, no doubt, to break different kinds of news to other anxious relat
ives.
Eventually she reached the right room. Peering through the small window inset into the door, she saw Matthew sitting by a stark white hospital bed. He looked blasted to stone, much older than his years. Leaning forward in the chair by the bed, one hand on his thigh, his gaze was fixed on its occupant. In that bed, wearing a neck brace and attached to all manner of machines, was Meredith. Anna drew a sharp breath. Meredith looked so small, so vulnerable, so different from her normal vibrant self. The bandage around her head, and the white hospital sheets looked warm in comparison to her skin. Her dark hair fell lank on either side of her face. Even her lips looked pale. Matthew was gently holding her right hand and, sensing Anna’s presence, he shifted his gaze from his daughter to where Anna was standing. With a superhuman effort, he released his unresponsive daughter’s hand and walked to the door.
‘Do you want me to sit with Meredith while you phone Tara?’
Matthew looked long and hard at her. ‘Will you be all right?’
Anna smiled, touched by his perception and his concern. ‘I think so.’
As he passed her, he touched her cheek with the hand that had been holding Meredith’s. ‘I’m so sorry, Anna. This must be the last place you want to be.’
‘Don’t be silly. I’m here for you. And for Meredith.’ Anna reached up and touched Matthew’s hand. ‘For as long as you need me.’
‘No. You should get home. You’ve got to work in the morning.’ Matthew’s voice trembled. ‘I’ll be all right.’
‘Just let me stay until you’ve phoned Tara,’ Anna said. ‘And then I’ll get home.’
Matthew dropped his hand from her cheek, and nodded. ‘All right.’ He wrinkled his brow, as if remembering something else. ‘I’d better ring Pat, too, get her to nip round and let Sefton out. Excuse me?’
‘Of course. Take all the time you need.’ Passing him one of the coffees, she waited for a moment as he walked down the corridor, then entered the small hospital room. Bracing herself, she sat down in the seat Matthew had just vacated. For a moment she didn’t dare to breathe. Then, slowly, she reached out and took Meredith’s left hand.
‘Hey, lovely,’ she whispered. ‘I’m here. Your dad’s just gone to phone your mum. He’ll be back soon.’
For a split second, she genuinely believed Meredith would answer, but as her ears became attuned to the steady beep of the heart monitor, and the rise and fall of the ventilator, she realised, to her horror, that she might never hear the teenager’s voice again.
Matthew returned to the room a few minutes later looking even grimmer than he had when he’d left. ‘She’s coming on the next flight she can get.’ Gesturing to Anna to stay put in the chair, he pulled a hard-backed wooden seat towards Meredith’s bed. ‘This is all my fault,’ he said softly. ‘I should never have agreed to her going out in that car with him so soon after he’d passed his test.’ Balling the fist of the hand that wasn’t holding his phone, he drew a deep breath.
Gently, Anna placed a hand over his clenched one. ‘It was an accident, Matthew.’ She gave his hand a tentative squeeze. ‘You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.’
‘Then he should have!’ Matthew snapped. He slumped back in his seat. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be taking this out on you. This must be hell for you, after what happened to James.’
Anna felt a sting of something she couldn’t identify as Matthew mentioned her dead husband’s name. ‘It’s not me you need to be worrying about, honestly.’
‘Do you know if they brought Flynn in?’ Matthew asked.
‘I haven’t heard,’ Anna said. ‘But if they did, I’m sure the police will want to speak to him.’
‘He’d better keep his distance from here.’
The beeps and lights from the various monitors stationed around Meredith’s bed kept their counsel for a minute as both Matthew and Anna were lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Anna went to move. ‘I’d better get going. If you’re sure you’ll be all right. Can I bring you anything in when I come back?’
Matthew rubbed his eyes. ‘I… I don’t know.’ He looked back at Anna through tired, bloodshot eyes. ‘What do I need?’
Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. ‘It will be all right, Matthew, I promise,’ she whispered into his hair. Expecting to feel his arms around her in reciprocation but instead feeling his body go rigid in her arms, Anna broke away from him again. ‘I’ll see you soon. Ring me if you need anything. Or if there’s any change.’ Unsure of what more she could do or say, Anna looked back at the bed. Not for the last time, she prayed the Meredith would wake, and soon.
34
The next morning, Anna felt as though she’d aged a hundred years. She’d taken a taxi back from the hospital and crashed into bed, only to wake three hours later from a fitful, restless slumber. Waking to unseasonably dreary weather, she watched the rain dripping down the leaded windowpanes. She resisted the urge to phone Matthew straight away since he might have managed some sleep, too, in the intervening hours. Stretching, she pulled the duvet back and padded into the bathroom.
Gloomily aware of her imminent shift at the tea shop, she forced down a cup of coffee and ran through her checklist of tasks. Fortunately, she’d pre-baked the scones for the cream teas before Matthew had arrived last night, and loaded them in the containers, and she always made sure Friday’s bread order from the village bakery was enough to cover the Saturday trade as well, so it was just a matter of making sandwiches to order. Deciding that there was no point hanging around an empty house any longer, she slung on her fleece against the early morning chill.
As she passed Pat’s, she saw the older woman was also up and about, and since she had a bit of time before she had to open the tea shop, she decided to whip in and update her on Meredith’s condition. She was surprised to be met at the door not just by Pat but by Sefton.
‘I thought I’d better bring him home with me,’ Pat said, handing Anna a cup of strong tea. ‘He was fine when I went round last night, but he’s an early riser.’
‘Thanks, Pat,’ Anna said. ‘Is it all right if I borrow your key to Matthew’s? I said I’d go over later and get some stuff for the two of them.’
Pat nodded. ‘Of course.’ She went to the dresser in the hallway and grabbed the key. On her return, she gave Anna a brief hug. ’This must be very difficult for you. You bearing up OK?’
Anna nodded, unable to speak. With an effort, she cleared her throat, and broke away gently from Pat’s embrace. ‘Tara’s apparently flying in as soon as she can.’
Pat looked wary. ‘Well, I suppose she was bound to.’ She looked as though she wanted to comment further, but seemed to think better of it. ‘Send our love to them both. I can’t imagine that lively girl lying in a hospital bed.’
‘She’s in the best hands,’ Anna said automatically.
‘Drop the key back in when you have the chance and I’ll nip round and spruce up the house for them.’
Anna managed a smile. ‘Thanks, Pat. I’m sure Matthew’ll appreciate it.’
The Saturday morning shift at the tea shop was, thankfully, busy enough to keep Anna’s thoughts from straying too often to Frenchay. At around eleven o’clock a fifteen strong group of Strawberry Line cyclists, all requesting cream teas, cleared out the batch of scones she’d cooked and her Saturday morning regulars more or less finished the cakes.
At midday, Anna’s mother Julia wandered in with Ellie, who, despite refusing to eat Anna’s strawberry cake from the tin at home, seemed to have developed a taste for it at the tea shop, and installed themselves at the table by the window.
‘Everything all right, Mum?’ Anna asked as she put the cake down in front of Ellie.
‘Fine,’ Julia Clarke replied. ‘Just thought we could do with some air, since your dad’s gone out early to play a quick nine holes.’ She took a sip of her tea and smiled at her daughter. ‘Did you have a nice time last night?’
Five minutes later, thankful that all of
her other customers seemed to be either engrossed in their conversations or their cakes, Anna had filled Julia in.
The older woman’s face registered horror, then disbelief. ‘That poor girl,’ she said, reflexively reaching over and giving Ellie a cuddle. The toddler looked surprised, but then tucked back into the remains of her cake. Julia’s attention shifted back to her own daughter. ‘How are you holding up, darling?’
‘OK,’ Anna swallowed hard, affected by the concern in her mother’s voice. She stuck her hands in the front pocket of her green apron to hide them in case they started to shake. ‘No, honestly, I’m fine.’
‘You don’t have to be brave.’
‘I know, Mum, but if I start crying now, I don’t think I’ll ever stop. If she doesn’t pull through…’
‘You mustn’t think like that.’ Mindful of where they were, Julia just reached out and squeezed Anna’s forearm. ‘She’s made it through the first few hours; that can only be a good thing.’
‘I was going to go back up there when I finish here with some stuff for them both,’ Anna said. ‘Would you mind keeping hold of Ellie for a bit longer?’
Julia smiled. ‘Of course. Take as long as you need. I might pop back to yours with her tonight, though, and stay there, rather than risk her waking Dad in the middle of the night again.’
Anna grimaced. ‘Sorry about that – she must have been a bit disoriented.’
‘It’s no trouble, but if she’s in her own bed, she’ll settle better. I’ll just crash out in the box room if you’re late back from the hospital.’
Anna gave her mother and daughter a final smile before carrying on with her shift. Her phone was still in the front pocket of her apron, but it had been unsettlingly silent the whole morning. She hoped that no news was good news.