by Ros Seddon
Ellie felt as though she hadn’t slept at all. There had been a new admission in the night; a young woman in the window bay opposite her. Nurses had been coming and going pulling the curtains back and forth around her bed; their whispering voices constant into the night as she drifted in and out of sleep. When it wasn’t the voices that woke her it was the pain in her right leg or the erratic breathing and deep echoing cough of the new arrival. She’d been aware too, of the dark haired man who came with her. Refusing to leave her, he had slept in the chair beside her bed. Ellie couldn’t see him clearly but she knew he was there by the gentle rise and fall of the white cellular blanket staff nurse had wrapped around him in the night and his constant shuffling in the chair, trying to find a more comfortable position; his movement casting eerie shadows on the dimly lit vinyl floor.
Now Ellie was awake; her eyes wide and even in the semi-darkness she could clearly see the bed opposite had become vacant; its pristine sheets lying flat, the curtains pulled back flat against the wall as if the new patient had never been; never existed and she wondered if she had dreamed it all. Then she saw them in the corridor rushing the new patient along on a trolley; their urgent voices calling for the crash team and she saw the man with dark hair following close behind and heard his heart-wrenching cries, ‘Sarah! Oh please God! No!’
She watched as a young nurse put out her hand stopping him in his tracks and saw devastation in his eyes as he slumped onto the cold hard chair in the corridor and hung his head in despair. Ellie shook her head, closed her eyes and pondered the existence of God.
As the first shafts of daylight began to spread across the room and her eyes flickered open she could feel their presence. Sure enough the curtains were pulled around the bed opposite and the dark haired man was there again watching over his loved one.
Thank God, thought Ellie. They had saved her.
The girl was about the same age as her, although it was hard to tell in this light; then the clock struck six and the auto timer kicked in illuminating the room and bringing it into full focus for the day ahead. Soon the ward was awash with the new shift; orderly’s and auxiliary’s scuttling this way and that; nurses with trolleys of medication and the comforting aroma of breakfast making its way up from the ground floor. Why had they brought the girl back onto the ward? Ellie’s mind was racing. They must be pretty confident of her condition......... or very short of space............
On Sunday morning the light was flashing on Felicity’s answering machine.
‘Miss Breen, Hi. David Wilson here. I’m sorry I’ve only just got your message and had to rush off to a meeting last night so would have been unable to meet you in town but I…….. have Monday lunch free so perhaps we could meet at the Bad Rock café at say, one o’clock? Oh and by the way in case you don’t know you have an appointment Monday AM at the Fortescue Arms at ten o’clock. Please let me know if you can’t make lunch. Goodbye for now.’
Felicity played the recording over and over. Had to rush off to a meeting……………. Unable to meet you in town…………… I bet you were blue eyes…. Some meeting; a date more like. She pressed 3 and deleted the message. She would call and cancel. Actually no; she would be at the Bad Rock and to hell with his date. Wanting to meet her didn’t necessarily mean he fancied her. He was probably just a really nice guy who wanted to return her filo fax and lunch would be nice, wouldn’t it? She ambled down the path to her car and threw her bag in the back then made her way to Compton. As soon as she pulled into her parents drive she could see that something was wrong. Her mother was rushing toward her down the garden path wearing slippers and house coat.
‘What is it Mum? What’s wrong?’
‘It’s your father dear. He’s gone missing again. I’ve searched the house and the garden.’
‘Have you checked the summer house and the sheds?’ asked Felicity.
‘They’re all locked up and the key is on the hook so he can’t be inside. Oh why does he do this to me darling? He knows how worried I get.’
‘He can’t help himself Mum. You know he doesn’t do it purposely to hurt you. I don’t think those tablets are any help. How long has he been gone?’
‘Um, about twenty minutes.’
‘Ok. Look you stay here in case he comes back and I’ll take a drive around; see if I can find him. He’ll be fine. Don’t worry, he can’t be far.’
She drove along the tree lined avenue and turned left toward the village. She drove slowly taking in every gate and driveway then turned into Compton square, parked the car and walked the length of Parsonage lane past its few shops and the pub and on into the church scanning the gardens and cemetery as she went, then she was greeted by the Reverend White himself. Unruly pale grey hair fell in thick curls across his eyes hiding dark eyebrows which reached a peak in the centre of his forehead. He reminded Felicity of a frightened angora rabbit she had rescued when she was nine. He always had that caught in the spotlight look about him; as though he was up to something he shouldn’t be which of course would be quite unusual and probably almost unheard of for a man of God to be doing anything he shouldn’t.
‘Ah Felicity. And how are you? How are your parents dear?’
‘Well actually………Dad’s missing again’ she began. Within a short while half the population of the village were looking for Joseph Breen. It was now common knowledge that he wasn’t quite himself anymore as there had been similar disappearances on previous occasions and Joseph was usually found safe and well after creating some kind of havoc in the green grocers or the post office stores but the panic and fear of uncertainty would not subside until he was found. Felicity knew that the doctor was carrying out tests at present and that he suspected Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s or some other terrible deteriorating disease which meant life with her mum and dad would never quite be the same again. She had to spend as much of her free time with them as she could purely to prolong the normality of this very close and precious relationship she held so dear. She stopped at the phone box and called her mother, ‘Any news Mum?’
‘He’s at the farm dear; up at Green Acres. I’ve just had a call from Agnes Cross. Can you go and pick him up and I’ll phone around and thank the neighbours and then get back to the Sunday roast. What a worry he is. I shall have to start locking him in if he keeps this up.’
Felicity called at the vicarage to let the Reverend White’s wife know that her father had been found and then drove up to Green Acres where Agnes Cross was waiting in the yard.
‘He’s getting worse Felicity. Doesn’t recognise me any more.’ complained Agnes who was frantically drying her hands with a cotton tea towel.
‘Where is he Agnes?’
The woman beckoned to the paddock at the side of the farmyard where Joseph Breen was sitting astride an old John Deere tractor, his hands clutching the steering wheel as if his life depended on it.
‘Dad?’ called Felicity. ‘Dad? What are you doing up there?’
‘I tried that already and he told me to bugger off’ said Mrs Cross. ‘Said if I didn’t he’d open fire; quite funny really. Thinks he’s back in the war I reckon. Thinks I’m old Jerry I dare say.’
Felicity went to her Father and stepped up on to the side of the tractor, then seeing a look of sheer terror in his eyes she placed her hand on her fathers hand and he slowly released his grip.
‘Come on Dad. I’ve come to pick you up; Its time for lunch.’
Like a small child he scrambled down from the John Deere and obediently fell into step beside her.
‘I must buy you a new car Felicity. This one’s so old now. We could probably pick one up for about twenty five pounds. Would you like that?’
‘Yes Dad that’d be lovely. Come on, we’ll be late for lunch.’
She smiled at Mrs Cross as she fastened the seat belt around her father and went to the driver’s side of her three year old two thousand pound mini on which her loan payment was now due. Yes he was quite funny. So funny she could cry. Although later t
hat day after they had finished lunch and Joseph went to sit in the conservatory and have a little snooze Felicity told her mother what Mrs Cross had said and they both had a good laugh at the thought of Joseph Breen opening fire on Agnes Cross and then the conversation took on a more serious tone.
‘How are you going to manage Mum If he gets worse?’
‘I’ll manage somehow darling. I always do and it hasn’t been easy you know.’ Margaret Breen looked out at her beloved husband resting in his favourite wicker chair, his mop of grey hair swept sideways across his head trying hard not to reveal the shiny bald patch that grew slightly bigger each year. He was almost ten years her senior although until recently no one would have known because Joseph always looked so young. It was as though he had drunk from the fountain of youth. Even his hair had only just begun to turn grey in his late sixties. Although now it seemed that age was catching up with him fast. Felicity helped her mother to load the dishwasher and ran some water for the pans and meat dish. They cleaned up and chatted about Joseph; about Felicity and her work; her recent meeting and she told her Mum about the collision with blue eyes and their lunch date the following day.
‘You need to be more careful darling. I mean, you don’t know anything about this man and the fact that he has your filo fax…….. I mean……… he must have read it from cover to cover. Do you have anything personal in it? I mean he obviously has your phone number for a start. You don’t have your address written in it do you?’
‘Of course I do Mum; and a lot of personal nonsense which really doesn’t matter. And anyway, he seems like a nice chap. I mean he could have just deposited it in the nearest bin couldn’t he? He didn’t have to go to all this trouble to meet me and hand it back personally and anyway, he is kind of sexy.’
‘Oh Felicity do be careful.’
‘I will. I promise.’
He was waiting for her at a little table in the window of the Bad Rock café the following lunch time. She could see him from across the street, the menu in his right hand, his left hand resting on her book which was on the table beside him. He was wearing the same long black raincoat he’d been wearing when she’d fallen into him at the station. As she started across the street she could feel him watching her but she kept her eyes focused on the door trying desperately to think of their meeting as a business task and nothing more, yet with every step she became more and more nervous so by the time she reached it had to take a deep breath to regain her composure.
‘Hi.’ Felicity approached the table and blue eyes stood up to greet her.
‘Hi….. Felicity.’
‘Call me Flick’.
‘Flick.’ He took her hand and just for a moment her knees began to feel weak as she took in those deep blue eyes once more.
‘David. David Wilson. We meet at last. Now then, before we order you don’t have any last minute trains to catch, or buses or such like?’ He gave her a wide smile and she noticed his teeth were as perfect as the rest of him.
‘No.’ she smiled back and the two relaxed a little. ‘Can I start by saying Thank You?’
‘There’s no need, really.’
‘But there is………’ Felicity reached for the filo fax. ‘……. for this, and for your help at the station. I would have missed my train that day if it hadn’t been for you and your help and then I would have jeopardised my job.’
‘Oh well in that case……….. The way I see it, how are you ever going to repay me?’
‘What?’ gasped Felicity. Cheeky. Blue eyes was cheeky. She liked that.
‘Let’s order shall we?’
They ordered jacket potatoes with salad and soft drinks and chatted away as if they had been friends forever. He worked at the Nat West bank and was the front desk supervisor responsible for five others. He had been there for nine years. He’d had a few steady relationships which never seemed to have what it takes to survive long term. He wasn’t looking for a relationship at the moment he said. And he didn’t flinch as he said it.
Felicity found him very easy to get on with and before she knew it her lunch hour was over and she felt like she hadn’t had any where near long enough in his company; but his words I’m not looking for a relationship at the moment stung like a knife. He must have been terribly hurt by his last girlfriend to make him feel like that. She knew how he felt. She too had been hurt. She hadn’t had many steady relationships. She had almost married when she was twenty three. Steve had been the love of her life. They had gone through college together; shared a flat together; had two holidays abroad together and she assumed…….. everyone assumed they would end up together but it wasn’t to be. After a two year engagement he suddenly broke it off and went travelling with a mate. He had never returned. The last she’d heard he was in Australia and was not coming home.
‘I……… I’d better go. I have to open the shop.’ She stood up to leave.
‘Yes. I have to get back to work too. It’s been lovely to meet you properly Flick.
It was good to have lunch… to talk to you. I’d like to see you again, if that’s ok? As friends, of course. We haven’t really talked about you. I’m sorry’
‘No. Well, you know my number. Thank you for lunch. It was good. I enjoyed our little talk.’
He watched as she climbed into her little Mini and drove off. She was such a sweet intelligent girl with a genuine kind personality and very pretty. Rare qualities.
He had felt quite at ease with her. But he had made his feelings quite plain that he didn’t want a relationship and was regretting that statement already.
They had told him to go home and get some sleep but the dark haired man would not budge from her bedside. Ellie had watched the two of them all morning. The girl had scarcely moved a muscle. Occasionally she had opened her eyes and moved her fingers and the dark haired man would instantly move closer to her, whispering to her all the while in a soft soothing voice. Ellie had heard him whispering those three special words, I love you......... but the girl lay silent. She had thought of talking to him; asking him if his wife or girlfriend, whichever she was, was feeling any better. She had imagined saying to him, ‘At least that awful coughing has stopped’, but the dark haired man hadn’t acknowledged her presence............. or anyone else’s. To him there was only one patient on the ward; or only one he had eyes for.
And then they moved her. An empty bed was brought in and the girl was wheeled away in her bed; the dark haired man in hot pursuit.
Ellie stared across at the empty space.
‘Lunch is on its way’ said a cheery voice. Anita was on duty and was writing something on the clip chart at the foot of her bed.
‘Where have they taken her?’ asked Ellie.
‘To an observation room a little farther up; closer to the desk so we can keep an eye on her.’
‘It was touch and go last night wasn’t it? I saw them rushing her away.’
Anita looked puzzled.
‘You must be mistaken Ellie. She’s been quite stable since they brought her in............
And they certainly haven’t rushed her off anywhere. Now you try and get some rest dear. Doctor will be round after lunch.’
Rest! Rest was what she hated the most. Ellie sank back into her freshly ‘plumped’ pillows. Had it been a dream?
‘Anita?’
‘Yes dear?’
‘Please .......... keep an extra special eye on Sarah. I have this feeling about her.’
The nurse looked shocked initially, then smiled and went about her duties.
That night while Ellie slept, Sarah went into cardiac arrest and the dark haired man left the hospital, never to return.
Ellie had been in hospital for two weeks. She could walk now, but only with the aid of crutches and even then she needed help. She couldn’t put any pressure on her right leg at all so it came as quite a surprise when Nurse Helen Dawson on the night shift saw her hobbling unaided through the ward intent on reaching the double doors at the end of the corridor that led to free
dom.
‘Ellie!’ She rushed to her patient’s side and reached for her arm... ‘What are you doing?’
‘Get off!’ Ellie turned on her and Helen saw that her beauty had vanished beneath a wide eyed vacant expression and an angry veil of bitterness as she pushed using both her arms with some force until Helen felt herself falling backward in the corridor and felt her back jar as it hit the wall.
‘Bloody well lemme ……bloomin – derrer… Bitch!’
Ellie turned and began to hobble falling occasionally against the walls and then smashed into an empty trolley and hung onto its rail for a few seconds, still mumbling nonsensically. Helen could do nothing but watch. She felt her heartbeat quicken with the shock of what had just happened. After a few seconds Ellie seemed to have a renewed strength and took off again back the way she had come. The nearest phone was the other side of this patient who at least now was heading in the right direction. She seemed to know exactly where her bed was and was using her broken limbs with some ease. Once Ellie was safely past the desk the nurse called security and sent for the duty doctor then followed her at a safe distance; watched her climb awkwardly into bed and curl up in a ball with the exception of her plastered leg which was hanging over one side. She was sound asleep before reinforcements arrived, a picture of innocence.