He slipped his jacket on and headed back to the hospital. The heavy door into ICU didn’t open at a push and he stood back puzzled until he noticed a key pad on the wall to his right. A politely phrased sign beside it advising visitors to ring the bell ONCE and wait.
The nurse who came out to him asked his name and vanished. She returned in a minute, an apologetic look on her face.
‘Mrs Armstrong’s condition is unchanged,’ she told him. ‘Unfortunately, you can’t come in just now, the staff are doing personal care. It will be another ten or fifteen minutes before they finish.’ Seeing his bloodshot eyes and ashen skin, she pointed down the corridor. ‘Why don’t you get something to eat, the canteen is nearby.’
He thanked her and did as she suggested, following the corridor back to a large, busy restaurant. He bought a few things, sudden hunger spurring him on, and took his laden tray to a window table where he sat with a sigh. The lasagne he’d chosen looked appetising and he picked up the knife and fork, dropping them quickly when a wave of nausea swept over him. Pushing the tray away, he rested his head in his hands and took deep breaths, letting them out slowly.
He sat back and used a paper serviette to wipe the perspiration from his brow before reaching for the tea with a trembling hand and taking a sip. A few sips later, he felt a little calmer and pulled the tray back. The lasagne now looked cold and unappealing, the muffin he’d bought not looking much better. He was debating going back for something else when two men appeared at his side.
‘Mr Armstrong,’ one said. ‘May we join you?’
Will looked up at them. Not doctors, he guessed. ‘Sure,’ he said.
The men sat, the older of the two reaching into his pocket for a card that he slid across the table as he introduced himself and his partner. ‘You have our sincere condolences on the death of your sister-in-law, Mr Armstrong,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ Will said, wondering how often he’d have to hear those words before the reality sank in. Tia was dead. Feeling tears prickle, he dropped his eyes and picked up the card, trying to concentrate on the words written on it. Detective Inspector Walker, Brighton Constabulary. ‘You’re investigating the crash?’ he asked, breaking the silence.
‘In a sense,’ the detective inspector answered. ‘We’re investigating Tia Bradshaw’s death.’
Will bit his lip. Tia is dead. ‘It’s hard to believe she’s gone.’ He drew a shuddering breath and let it out before meeting the inspector’s rather pale blue eyes. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘We need someone to identify Tia’s body, Mr Armstrong. I know it’s difficult with your wife being in ICU, but it does need to be done so that the investigation can progress.’
‘Of course,’ Will said. ‘I understand.’ It was a lie, he didn’t understand anything. But he didn’t know what else he was supposed to do except follow instructions.
He was about to ask when they wanted him to do the identification when they stood and waited for him to follow. Now, he guessed, getting up and falling into step between the two men, dwarfed by their six-foot-plus height, feeling both intimidated and anxious. They didn’t speak to him as they made their way along long hospital corridors, down three flights of stairs to the basement level, and in through a door marked Mortuary.
‘If you would just wait here for a minute,’ Walker said, opening the door and vanishing inside.
Tia is dead. Will wanted to scream, but he didn’t. He bit his lip, feeling his eyes water, praying he wouldn’t cry and then, realising tears were already rolling down his cheeks, he gave in to them.
Walker returned a few minutes later. He saw the tears and frowned. ‘You sure you’re all right to do this?’ he asked in genuine sympathy.
Will dried his face on the back of his sleeve and nodded. Without another word, he followed the detective down a small corridor to a window where, on the far side, he could see a small, coldly clinical room and a table holding a sheet-covered body.
Tia’s body.
He recognised the tiny part of himself that still hoped it was all a big mistake. That they’d pull the sheet back and he’d look at Walker in confusion and say he didn’t recognise the woman. He wanted that bad TV script, the one where Tia would run in saying it was all a mistake, a dream, a nightmare, any bloody thing, just not this awful truth.
An attendant in scrubs entered the room and stood respectfully by the body. Will ran the tip of his tongue over dry lips and clasped his hands together, forcing his eyes to stay focused on the sheeted figure.
With a nod from Walker, the attendant grasped the corners of the sheet and, with a deliberateness that caused Will to clench his fists and his teeth, slid the sheet down to her shoulders.
Will’s gasp was automatic and loud, drawing Walker’s attention.
His first thought was that they had made a mistake, a terrible one. It wasn’t Tia on the table, it was Ellie, her hair pulled back from her face, desperate to distinguish herself from her twin. His second thought was that Ellie would be furious that he’d mixed them up again. Because of course it was Tia, her hair tucked under a white disposable mop-cap. Of course, it was Tia.
‘Is that Tia Bradshaw?’ Walker asked after a minute.
Will nodded.
‘She and your wife were twins? Were they alike?’
‘Yes, identical twins,’ Will gulped. ‘But you could tell them apart if you knew them.’ Unless you were drunk. He caught a strange look from the detective and wondered if he’d said the words aloud.
Will nodded, took a final look at Tia and turned away. ‘Do I need to sign something?’
‘Yes, please, if you would,’ the detective said politely and led him into a small office.
‘What happens now?’ Will asked, placing the pen he’d used back on the table.
‘There’ll be a post mortem and a coroner’s inquest. The crash investigator has already given his findings. There appeared to be no obvious reason why the car went off the road, you know. Your wife’s phone was checked, she wasn’t using it at the time. The likelihood is a rabbit or deer jumped out and startled her. It’s more common that you think.’ He shook his head. ‘They were unfortunate, if it hadn’t been for that felled tree they probably would have stopped in the ditch with only minor injuries, but that tumble down the valley was a bad one.’
Will closed his eyes, imagining the horror. He didn’t want to know the details but he needed to. ‘Were they thrown from the car?’
Walker shook his head. ‘No, it looks like they managed to get out after the car came to a halt. They were found close together, several feet from the car. It’s amazing, actually, that they both got out, especially your sister-in-law with such extensive head injuries.’
Amazing. Will, picturing the scene, gulped and then nodded. ‘I’d better get back to my wife. Is there anything else?’
The detective shook his head. ‘No, that’s it, thanks.’ He indicated the exit door. ‘I have more work to do here, will you be able to find your way back?’
Will had no idea. ‘Yes. Of course,’ he said. How hard could it be?
Walker offered him a hand. ‘Thank you for your assistance, Mr Armstrong,’ he said, shaking his hand firmly. ‘I’m sorry for your loss and I hope your wife pulls through. You’ve a tough road ahead.’
‘Thank you,’ Will said, glad the detective had no idea just how tough that road was going to be.
42
Will negotiated the corridors and found his way back to the ICU where he found Ellie still unconscious. He sat beside her, staring, trying to see any sign of change. But there was none. Her face was still fixed and rigid, her breathing peaceful. Strangely, the staff had brushed her hair so that it was loose, framing her face, dark waves on the white pillowcase. Tia is dead. His heart twisted as he realised Ellie could wear it lose all the time now, there was no reason to tie it back. He’d never be able to make that mistake again.
Suddenly, his wandering attention was brought back to Ellie’s face. Were her eyelids fl
ickering? He looked around for one of the nurses, but they were all busy. They’d told him to ring her call-bell if he saw any changes but he wasn’t sure if this counted. He leaned forward to watch her face closely, but there was nothing more. He was about to sit back when it happened again and this time he was convinced she was trying to open her eyes. Looking around, he saw Nurse Jarvis hanging a clipboard on the next bed and waved to attract her attention.
‘I think she’s waking up,’ he said, when she joined him.
She peered closer and, reaching out, lifted one eyelid, then the other. ‘You might be right,’ she said, checking the equipment and the intravenous line. ‘Just keep talking to her.’
He was beginning to think he’d imagined it when Ellie’s eyes suddenly opened. She stared at the ceiling for a moment and then turned her head to look at him. ‘Will,’ she said. One word, but it was enough.
‘Ellie,’ he said, moving closer, ‘thank God.’ This time he did ring the call-bell. Nurse Jarvis had gone off shift, so it was another nurse who attended.
‘Well, well,’ said the nurse, smiling, her eyes quickly assessing the monitor display. ‘You’ve decided to wake up, have you? How are you feeling?’
Ellie tore her eyes from Will’s face and looked at the nurse. Blinking rapidly, she looked to Will. ‘What happened? I don’t remember.’
He caught the nurse’s eyes. How much was he to tell her at this stage?
The nurse transferred her smile to him. ‘Don’t worry your wife with details, Mr Armstrong, and don’t you worry about what happened for now, Mrs Armstrong, just concentrate on getting better.’
Ellie’s eyes flicked from one to the other. Then, without a word, she closed her eyes.
Will’s eyes met the nurse’s gratefully. ‘It’s hard to know…’
‘Don’t worry about it for the moment,’ she said. ‘She’ll probably drift in and out for a while. Time enough for her to know what happened. I’ll let the consultants know she’s regained consciousness.’
A few minutes later, Ellie opened her eyes again and Will watched as her brow creased, making the small dressing that was there concertina. ‘It’s a bit different to that hospital in Italy, isn’t it?’ she murmured, bringing her eyes to him, managing a small smile.
The holiday where she’d had food poisoning so badly she needed to be hospitalised, had been three years ago. If she remembered that, her head injury couldn’t be so bad. He breathed a sigh of relief. ‘A bit different,’ he agreed, smiling gently. With the smile still on her lips, she closed her eyes again. ‘I just need to make a few phone calls,’ Will said later, softly, unsure if she were asleep or not. When she gave no indication of hearing, he stood and stepped outside the unit to ring Sally and check on Bill, followed by a quick update to his office and then the call he’d been putting off. Ellie had insisted he put Adam’s number as an emergency contact in his phone years before. He remembered laughing at the idea. ‘What on earth is the point? He can’t do a lot from Barbados.’ But she’d insisted and he’d put it in to keep her happy. He found it and pressed ring.
He wasn’t sure what time it was in Barbados, but the sleepy voice that answered made him think it was the middle of the night.
‘Adam?’
‘No, it’s Tyler, hang on.’
He heard a lot of muttering before hearing the familiar voice of Adam Dawson. ‘This better be very good, or very serious,’ he said.
‘Serious, I’m afraid. It’s Will, Will Armstrong.’
‘Will? It’s the middle of the night. What’s wrong?’
There was no easy way to deliver the news, so he went straight to the facts. ‘There’s been an accident, Adam, it’s Tia, she…’ He gulped, the words he’d said so often in his head difficult to say aloud. ‘I’m sorry, Adam,’ he managed, ‘it’s just so hard. Tia…she’s dead.’
The silence that followed lasted for so long he thought they’d been disconnected. ‘Adam? Are you still there?’
‘Yes, yes, I’m sorry, it’s…’ There was silence on the line for a few seconds and then his voice came again, a distinct quaver in the words. ‘What happened?’
‘She was in the car with Ellie, and they crashed. Ellie was injured but I think she’s going to be fine.’
‘Thank God,’ Adam said, cutting in.
‘She’s still in ICU,’ Will carried on, ‘but she’s come around and she recognised me so that’s a good sign. Luckily, Bill wasn’t with them. He’s being looked after by a nanny.’
‘Bill?’ Adam asked, puzzled.
Will held his hand over the mouthpiece and said, ‘Shit.’ In a sudden fit of panic, he muttered, ‘Hello? Hello?’ through his fingers and cut the connection. He didn’t redial, nor did he answer the phone when it rang back. He needed time to think.
He knew Ellie emailed Adam now and then. He’d assumed she’d kept him up to date with things. It seems she’d left out one important detail. How on earth was he going to explain Bill?
He paced the corridor for a few minutes before redialling. This time the phone was answered immediately. ‘Sorry, Adam,’ he said, trying to sound apologetic, ‘bad signal. I’ve moved to a better area.’
‘That’s okay,’ Adam said, ‘you were telling me about Bill?’
‘Our son,’ Will said. ‘Ellie never told you?’ He held his breath as he waited for his reply. If Ellie had mentioned being unable to have children, he’d have to think on his feet.
When the reply came it was both puzzled and disappointed. ‘No, she never told me. We haven’t spoken in a while, you know, and her last email was a few months ago. She’s always so busy.’
‘I think she might have tried to contact you, but you were away,’ Will tried to explain. It was a shot in the dark but it had some hope of success, Adam and Tyler were frequent travellers.
‘We have been away a lot in the last year,’ Adam said, the hint of puzzlement fading. ‘I’m so happy for you both, I know you were keen to have children.
‘Keep me up to date on Ellie’s recovery, Will, won’t you? Such a shock this. Hard to take it all in.’ There was a moment of static on the line when Will thought he’d lost the connection before Adam spoke again. ‘Let me know when you’ll be able to have Tia’s funeral. I’ll have a look at flights.’
Promising to keep him informed, Will hung up, thankful for once they had no other relatives to inform. He headed back to sit with Ellie, who lay with her eyes closed. She didn’t open them when he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek so he sat to wait.
It puzzled him that she’d not told Adam about Bill. He’d have found out sometime, wouldn’t he? Perhaps she was worried he’d come over to visit before they were ready, before Tia was relocated to Brighton. If he had, he’d have known immediately that Tia was the mother.
There was no risk of that now.
The thought surprised, frightened and appalled him. Was he seriously looking at Tia’s death as a way out of the mess he’d landed them all in? He dropped his head into his hands and groaned quietly. What level had he stooped to?
‘Will?’
Ellie’s frail voice dragged him from his thoughts. He ran a hand over his face and put a smile on his lips. ‘Hello,’ he said, squeezing her elbow. He was about to say more when a commotion at the nurse’s station caught his attention.
Within minutes, a group of medics was at the foot of Ellie’s bed. The unit manager, whose name Will had never heard, introduced the consultant. ‘This is Professor Grosschalk, the neuro-consultant.’
Grosschalk picked up the clipboard and scanned the information before putting it back and looking at Ellie. ‘It’s good to see you awake, Mrs Armstrong,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a rough time of it, but all the results look good. Your recovery should be smooth.’ He gave her a smile and switched his attention to Will. ‘Perhaps I could have a few words, Mr Armstrong?’
Without waiting for an answer, Professor Grosschalk headed back to the nurse’s station. Will stooped to plant a kiss on Ellie’s forehead an
d said, ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’ He waited until she gave some recognition of what he’d said before joining the consultant.
Grosschalk held out his hand as Will reached him. ‘Mr Armstrong,’ he said, ‘I thought it was important to have a word with you away from your wife.’
Will shook his hand, surprised at the strength in the slim, well-manicured hand. ‘Is there a problem?’ he said. ‘Ellie is awake. Isn’t everything going to be all right?’ He suddenly realised he was still holding the man’s hand and gave a shaky smile. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, dropping it and rubbing his eyes to keep himself focused.
An alarm from a monitor sent staff rushing to one of the other patients and, for a moment, there was organised chaos. Professor Grosschalk took Will by the arm, drew him to the corner of the station and indicated a couple of stools. ‘We may as well sit here out of the way,’ he said with a slight smile. He waited until Will sat before continuing, his face serious. ‘Head injuries are difficult things to deal with, Mr Armstrong. It isn’t always easy to identify residual damage. Until your wife’s physical injuries have healed, we won’t know the outcome for sure.’
‘Are you saying she could have brain damage?’ Will asked, appalled.
‘It’s a possibility that we should keep in mind.’
‘But she’s awake. She knew me, said my name,’ he said again. ‘She even remembered things from ages ago. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?’
The professor nodded. ‘Yes, of course, and they’re a good indication that she may make a full recovery but, sometimes, following a head injury there can be slight personality changes that people are unprepared for.’
‘Personality changes?’ Will wiped his face with a trembling hand.
Grosschalk shrugged. ‘Sometimes very minor; a person who was very ebullient may become quiet, and vice versa. It can be more troubling if a person who was very mild-mannered becomes aggressive. Often, these changes are short-term but they can be persistent and it may happen that the patient needs to adjust to this lifestyle change.’
Secrets Between Us Page 21