Entwined

by Elizabeth Marshall

“I don’t know,” replied Rose. “Graham’s delivered the baby, but she’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “What can I do?” Grace asked.

  “See if you can find a clean nightshirt, some panties and a pair of leggings for her,” Rose replied, rinsing a bloody facecloth in a bowl of warm soapy water.

  “I’ll see what I can find,” Grace said. “Oh, and Eilidh says to tell you that we need to leave soon.”

  “You’re not taking this woman anywhere,” interrupted Graham, sternly. “She’s not strong enough.”

  “I’m sorry, but we have no choice,” said Eilidh, coming to stand beside Corran.

  “This woman is fighting for her life and you want to move her?” he said, in an exaggerated whisper.

  “We don’t have any choice, Graham, we’ve got to go or she’ll be dead for sure,” Eilidh said.

  “So I’ve been told, but if I’m honest I think the lot of you are a bunch of nutcases,” he said, taking off his gloves and throwing them on the trolley. “Move her if you must but be warned, she’s not strong enough to travel,” he paused, “I can’t stop you crazy people moving this woman but - at least let me come with you. I’ll see her safely to a hospital wherever it is you are going.”

  “That would be very kind of you,” Grace said, turning to leave the room.

  “Kindness has got nothing to do with it. I took a vow to save lives, and if I let you move this woman without medical care she will die for sure,” he snapped.

  “Whatever your reasons, I’d like to thank you,” Grace said, closing the door behind her.

  “And I’d like to thank you too,” said Rose.

  “Yes, well you are going to be changing a fair few of those over the next couple of hours, so don’t thank me just yet,” he said, nodding at the bag of blood on the IV Pole.

  “Do you have enough blood?” Rose asked

  “I hope so,” he replied, “I’ve got ten pints, if she needs more than that then we might be in trouble.”

  “Can you get more?” Simon asked, gruffly.

  “No, not unless one of you has the same blood group as Corran.”

  “Can you check?”

  “Sorry, no, but ten pints is a lot of blood. If she needs more than that then she’s in more trouble than I can fix with a few pints of blood.”

  “Sorry to rush you all, but it’s time,” Eilidh announced.

  “It’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake,” Graham barked. “How far is this trip?”

  Rose cleared her throat noisily, hoping to avoid the question but his eyes stared at her demanding an answer.

  “About five hundred miles.”

  “Five hundred miles?” he repeated, “Are you insane?”

  ******

  CHAPTER 18

  ‘Ye Olde Starre Inne’, York – 21st December, Modern Day

  A frantic bustle of activity ensued as things were hurriedly carried down to the cellar ready to be taken through the tunnel.

  Grace produced a loose, cotton nightshirt, some underwear, and a pair of leggings from Corran’s suitcase, before sending Duncan to carry the case to the cellar. Rose hurriedly dressed Corran before Duncan returned to fetch them.

  “How are we going to move her?” Simon asked, gently prizing the teat of the bottle from his son’s mouth.

  “Let me see what you are traveling in,” Graham said, “and then I’ll tell you the best way to move her.”

  “We can’t really show you,” interjected Duncan.

  “What do you mean you can’t show me?” Graham replied, with an impatient edge to his voice.

  “Just what I said,” Duncan replied curtly.

  “Why?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Look mate, I’m getting tired of your games. That woman over there is my patient…”

  “Aye, and she’s my mother,” objected Duncan.

  “Quite frankly, kid, I don’t give a shit what she is to you. Just show me what you are moving her in.”

  “It’s alright, lad, you can tell the man. He means us no harm,” said Simon.

  “You sure Pa? Just because a man smiles at you doesn’t mean he won’t knife you in the back.”

  “Aye, lad, the man is here to help us, tell him the plan.”

  “Right you are, Pa,” Duncan said, returning his attention to the doctor. “As I said, it’s complicated…”

  “Get on with it, Duncan,” growled Simon.

  “We have to take her into the cellar and then through a tunnel to a shop. My Pa has a van parked up in the courtyard of the shop,” he paused, locking his eyes on Graham. “We are using the van to move us to Morrisons…”

  “Morrisons?”

  “Aye, we have an articulated lorry parked up in the loading bays. We are travelling in that.”

  “Are you seriously telling me that you intend to move this woman five hundred miles in the back of an articulated lorry?”

  Duncan nodded. “Yes, that is exactly how we are planning on moving her.”

  “But an articulated lorry?” he argued, thinking that a psychiatrist may have been more use to these people than a G.P.

  “That’s what my son said, doctor,” Simon intervened, rising and coming to stand beside the doctor.

  “She’s just had an operation,” Graham objected.

  “Aye, we had noticed,” Simon replied, gruffly.

  “Can any of you actually drive the thing?” Graham asked.

  “Yes,” replied Simon, “I can.”

  “You have a license?” Graham persisted with a skeptical frown.

  “Not exactly, but that doesn’t mean I can’t drive it.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Graham said, shaking his head in abject disapproval. “You want to move this woman through a tunnel, into a van in the middle of the night, and drive her roughly a mile and a half to Morrisons, before moving her into an articulated lorry which none of you have a license to drive, and then drive five hundred miles in the lorry to God knows where?”

  Simon and Duncan nodded.

  “You must be off your bloody heads,” Graham snarled.

  “Will you help us?” Eilidh asked.

  The doctor stared for a moment at the baby in Simon’s arms. His eyes travelled to the woman from whom he had delivered the child and then to Eilidh, the woman who had saved his life. To this day he had no idea how she had come to be in his flat, or how she had known what he had done. Torn apart by the death of his father and loss of his mother he had meant to take his own life.

  Earlier that day he had watched a man die, his lungs blown to shreds by a gunshot wound to the chest. It was the first gunshot victim of his career, and the first man he had watched die from the same injury as his father.

  That night, alone in his flat overlooking the river Ouse, he filled a syringe with insulin and injected it into his stomach. Within seconds of his foolish deed, Eilidh had materialized in front of him. Confused and trembling he had reached out to the stranger for help. Immediately she had filled a pint glass with sweetened apple juice and, gently holding his head, she encouraged him to drink the sickly sweet liquid. Then from her pocket she had pulled a stick of rock, with a picture of the Minster running through its core, and slowly, over many hours of patient persuasion and gentle care, she had stabilized his sugar levels.

  She never did say how she came to be in his flat that evening, or how she had known what he’d done, but then Graham hadn’t asked because he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the answer. What he was sure of however, was that this girl had given him purpose. She had rescued him in his darkest hour, shown him compassion and friendship when he had needed it the most and through her unassuming kindness, restored his faith in mankind and his will to live. Now she was asking him to help her and although his professional judgment told him to walk away, to call the police, and have the woman on the table hospitalized, he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to betray the one person who had come to his rescue when all others had deserted him.<
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  “By rights I should report you all to the police,” he said, pausing to look at Eilidh. “But for some bizarre reason I’m not going to. So, yes, I’ll help you,” he said.

  “Thank you, doctor,” Simon said, quietly. “Now please tell us how to move my wife?”

  Graham rubbed his thumb thoughtfully across his bottom lip, scanning his eyes around the room.

  “How wide is this tunnel?”

  “About a meter wide,” replied Simon.

  “Do you have a board that we can use to stretcher her?” Graham asked.

  “I have an old table top in the cellar,” said Harry from the doorway.

  “That will do. Get it sterilized, and then cover it with some of these sterilized sheets. Do the same as we did for the table she is on now,” Graham said, turning to face Kate. “What about the baby? Have you got a crib for him?”

  “Well, not so much a crib but we’ve got this. It’s clean and Robert’s made a mattress for it,” said Grace, pointing to a drawer on the floor.

  “That’s a drawer,” Graham said, raising his eyebrows, “and yes, in the absence of anything else, it will do.”

  “We need to go, now,” Eilidh ordered.

  “Alright, Eilidh, I hear you. I need four people to carry her.”

  “I’m on it,” said Duncan, disappearing from the room.

  “Has everything been moved to the van?” Eilidh asked.

  “It has,” nodded Grace.

  “Good. We need to make up some feed bottles for the baby. Kate, can you and Jenny see to that? Harry’s sorting the tabletop to move Corran and I’m guessing Duncan has gone to get Robert to help move her,” Eilidh said, bending to pat Amber.

  “I will need Rose and Kate to help me with the IV stand,” Graham said, turning to Eilidh. “Are you sure you have no other choice than to move her?”

  Eilidh nodded, “I’m sure, Graham. Kate won’t be long; she’s gone to help Jenny sterilize some bottles.”

  “OK, then, I will need to think the logistics through to make sure that Corran is as comfortable as possible.”

  “Thank you,” she replied softly.

  “Where do you want it, doc?” Harry asked breathlessly, straining to hold the end of the tabletop.

  “Errr, just stand it up against the wall,” he replied, dragging a stool out of the way.

  “Your side down?” Harry said.

  “No, I’ll hold it. You put your side down,” Duncan said, holding the weight of the wood whilst Harry lowered his end to the floor.

  “Nice job guys,” said Graham, casting a critical eye over the makeshift stretcher. “Did you have any trouble getting the sterile sheets to stay on?”

  Harry shook his head. “I used my staple gun to attach them.”

  “Nice thinking,” Graham commended.

  “So what now?” Duncan asked.

  “We need to move your mother onto the stretcher,” Graham said, reaching over Simon to unhook the blood bag from the IV stand. “Hold this, please,” he said to Rose, passing the bag over Corran. “Kate, will you bring the IV stand out when we are ready.”

  “You alright with the baby, Simon?” Eilidh asked.

  “Aye, lass, I am fine.”

  “I’ll bring the crib, then,” Eilidh said, bending to lift the drawer.

  “Let’s get this stretcher on the floor,” Graham said, lifting the piece of wood away from the wall and laying it flat on the floor. “Duncan, Harry, and Robert can you two stand either side of Corran.”

  “Have you a care on which side we stand, surgeon?” asked Robert, moving in next to Duncan.

  “None at all,” Graham replied, taking his place next to Harry. “Now, on my count we are going to lift her using the sheet. OK?”

  The three men nodded.

  “Ready?”

  “We are,” replied Duncan, grabbing the edge of the sheet with his hands.

  “On my count, - One, two, lift,” Graham said, as the men hoisted his patient off the table.

  Simon’s face paled as he watched the sheet sag with the weight of his wife. He drew the child tightly against him and brushed his lips gently over the long wisps of jet black hair on its head. “Your Ma’s a fighter, lad, don’t you worry, she’s going to be just fine,” Simon whispered to his son, more for his own re-assurance.

  “Duncan and Robert move down the table, with us,” Graham said, his forearms and biceps straining with the weight of his patient. “Rose, follow us with the bag, and keep the line slack. I can do without it coming out now.”

  “I’m with you, Graham,” Rose said, holding the line loose above Corran.

  “That’s right, gently does it… and hold,” Graham said, as they cleared the end of the table.

  “Listen doc, I don’t think I can hold her much longer,” said Harry.

  “Just hang in there a minute more, Harry, nearly done now,” Graham said calmly. “Duncan and Robert, on my count, take one large step backwards, over the stretcher. Ready?”

  The two men nodded.

  “One… two… step. Try not to stand on the stretcher - that’s it - and gently down with her,” Graham said exerting a Neanderthal grunt as the four of them lowered Corran onto the stretcher. “Well done guys, nice job.”

  “We’ve just got to carry her through this tunnel now,” said Duncan, breathing heavily.

  “You ready, Simon?” Eilidh asked gently.

  “Aye, lass, as ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, cradling the child to his chest.

  “Just one question before we leave?” Graham said, looking thoughtfully down at his patient.

  “Aye doctor, what would that be?” Simon asked.

  “What are we going to do with her in the van?”

  “We’ve arranged a mattress for her. Robert and Harry carried it through the tunnel, it’s in the van and waiting for her,” Eilidh replied.

  “Well done, Eilidh. Gentlemen, are you ready?” Graham said, going down on his haunches. “On my count, - one, two, and lift.”

  ******

  CHAPTER 19

  “Amber, in,” Eilidh said firmly.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Duncan asked.

  “I can’t get her into the van.”

  “Amber, in,” Duncan whispered.

  Without a moment’s hesitation the dog launched herself into the back of the van. Duncan turned a cheeky, boyish smile towards Eilidh.

  “Why wouldn’t she do it for me?”

  “It must be my irresistible charm.”

  “More like the biscuit you threw into the van,” Harry said, with a laugh.

  “Thank you,” Eilidh said, “however you did it.”

  The dog settled on the floor beside Corran, her nose tucked under her paw and the curve of her spine pressed hard against the side of the mattress. Simon lowered his son into the makeshift crib and pulled the tiny blanket up under the baby’s chin.

  “Look after your mother, wee one,” he said, bending to kiss his son’s forehead.

  Kneeling next to the mattress he brushed a strand of hair from Corran’s face and kissed her gently on the cheek. Taking her limp hand in his he held it tightly to his heart.

  “Come back to me, lass - without you my life is worthless.”

  “We’ve got to go, Simon,” Eilidh whispered, nervously.

  “I know,” he replied, stepping down from the back of the van.

  “Is everyone in?” Eilidh asked, doing a quick head count.

  “Harry?” Simon said when the man made no move.

  “No, not me, fella. I’m not coming with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean just what I said. I’ve had my time, now go… And tell Jessie I never stopped loving her.”

  “Why, Harry?” Simon asked, trying to hide his impatience with the man.

  “Because I’m not one of you, fella. I never have been, and I never will be.”

  “I hate to interrupt,” said Eilidh, “but we really have to go now.”

 
“Get in the bloody van, Harry,” Simon bawled. His patience with the man had ceased.

  “No, just go. I never planned or expected to come with you. I am just an old drunk and I’ve done my job getting you to this point.”

  “Duncan, put him in,” Simon said, with a clear note of intolerance to his voice.

  Doing as his father had ordered, Duncan hoisted Harry over his shoulder and swung him into the back of the van before closing the doors and locking the handles.

  “Let me out, you don’t understand,” yelled Harry, from inside the van.

  “Tell me later,” Simon shouted, in response to Harry’s furious thumping on the doors.

  “You’re with, us, Harry. That’s an end to it,” Simon growled.

  Surrounded by boxes, crates, bags, and cases they clung to each other as the vehicle moved steadily through the city.

  “It’s only a mile or so, just breathe deeply, and if you’re gonna topple, do it away from the mattress,” Graham said, to the wave of bodies that swayed around him.

  The van accelerated, sending the baby’s crib sliding along the floor towards the back doors. Robert apprehended it and lifted the child into his arms.

  A searing pain gripped Robert’s heart as he drew the child toward his chest, his mind clouded and then darkness fell upon his eyes. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning and the darkness was gone. His eyes fell upon a young man. His stance was aggressive; his arms hung away from his torso, but still in line with his hips, palms facing forwards, and his hands openly cupped. Robert instantly recognized the man yet couldn’t recall where he knew him from. It was a moment of déjà vu where every fiber of his being told him to run, yet he remained, frozen in time, his eyes set upon the scene. The young man raised his hands so that they were facing each other, as if an invisible ball was in-between them. A red energy began to transfer from hand to hand, until a violent-red orb began to form in the middle. His hands appeared to be feeding the orb, crafting it, molding it into a sculptured furnace of energy. People started to gather slowly, watching in amazement as the ball grew and its creator’s features twisted into a contorted, sinister laugh.

  “What the -?” one of the onlookers shouted as the young man threw the orb at a grain store. The impact of the glowing ball of energy hitting the building caused a colossal explosion, instantly disintegrating the grain store into a fine dust moments after it hit. Two men acted quickly, running towards the deranged being. Using a flick of his hand, the energy-maker hurled one of the men backwards, the other ran up behind him and momentarily locked their enemy in a full nelson. The grasp was short-lived as, with a single flick of his hand, the man’s hold was released and he was suspended in mid-air. A wicked smile crept over their foe’s face.