Brothers & Sisters

by Brothers

  ‘Mum, you in there?’ The sound of her voice in the silence made her look around in awkwardness. Knocking again, more loudly and impatiently, she shouted, ‘Mum, can you answer the door. Mum.’ She banged the door as loudly as she could. Tim and Robert heard her as they ran towards her.

  ‘Just open the door, man, there’s something wrong.’ Robert was dogged as he wrenched the key from its spring chain on the manager’s belt. The manager didn’t protest. Robert placed the key card in the slot and opened the door. The room was still in darkness except for the slice of yellow light that shot from the opening of the bathroom door.

  ‘Ring an ambulance, Robert quickly.’ Tim was insistent as he pushed past Robert into the foreboding room. Running to the bed, he found it empty. As he stood stunned, he looked to the light in the bathroom and saw Rose lying on her side on the bathroom floor. Her hair lay matted in vomit and blood. She was pale. He knelt by her side and checked her pulse.

  ‘Is she breathing?’ Lizzie was behind him, fear exploding inside of her.

  Tim checked her chest. ‘I think so. It’s very shallow.’ On the exterior, Tim was the epitome of calm, he knew that Lizzie would need him to be, but inside he felt as scared as he had been that night, forty six years ago when he had carried Rose to Mrs McGrath’s house.

  ‘Is that blood?’ Lizzie cried. ‘Oh my god.’

  ‘Get a blanket,’ Tim instructed the manager calmly as he held his sister’s hand. They wrapped her in position and tried to heat her up. Shock enveloped their bodies as they stood watching Rose where she fell.

  ‘We’re here, Mum, it’s okay.’ Lizzie’s tears flooded down her face. ‘Tim is here and Robert too.’ Lizzie looked at them individually as she said their names. She uncurled her fingers, took her mum’s pill box from her hand and held her hands in hers, it was cold. ‘She had her pills.’ She passed them to Robert as he spoke to a dispatcher from the ambulance centre. ‘She must have been trying to open them.’ Lizzie wiped tears from her face with the heel of her other hand. She fell to her knees beside her mother and gently rubbed her back.

  He placed them in his shirt pocket. ‘Make sure her mouth is clear,’ Robert said, relaying the message from the dispatcher on the other end of the phone. ‘It is,’ Lizzie said as she pulled open her mother’s bottom jaw and peered inside. Robert looked around the room, Rose’s clothes hung neatly on the hanger inside the fitted wardrobe and her case lay open on the rack, her shoes stood side by side by the table. Robert pulled open the curtains, her phone was on the table beside her bed and her water bottle lay unopened on her covers.

  ‘Ambulance is coming, shouldn’t be long’, Robert finished his call and stood helplessly aside watching Tim and Lizzie as they sat where Rose lay.

  ‘The ambulance is on its way. Are you awake, Mum, can you hear me?’ Lizzie said.

  Lizzie’s plea was hard to listen to and a lump larger than rock formed at the back of Robert’s throat. He picked up the water bottle and held it in his hand. He showed it to Tim.

  ‘Bloody hands,’ Tim repeated Rose’s words for her. He remembered her asking him to open her bottle in the church. In his mind’s eye he pictured her falling where she lay. He gasped when Rose moaned inaudibly. ‘Rose.’ He leaned in to her. ‘Rose, hang in there, the paramedics will be here soon. Rose.’ He wiped the side of her face with his hands. She didn’t answer him.

  Like a slide show, image after image of Rose’s life flashed in front of her. The combine in the sun-soaked field and Tim, a young man, behind the wheel; Michael, her beautiful baby boy swaddled in blue on Mrs McGrath’s bed; her soulmate, the love of her life, Matt, smiling by her side; her swollen tummy and Lizzie aged five.

  ‘Mum, can you hear me, Mum?’ Lizzie cried.

  Rose tried to answer but nothing came out and the memories that played washed over her eyes and kept them closed as she scrolled through the images in her head. She wanted to revel in the happiness it brought, she willed for quietness so she could see them again. There was Lizzie smiling without her front teeth; Matt painting the kitchen duck-egg blue, there was more paint on him than the walls; Robert and Tim snatching a kiss. She saw Michael, handsome and strong without his tie, smiling, so good of you to come, he said and she saw Lizzie standing beside him. She tried to smile, she hoped Lizzie and Tim could see it.

  ‘If one of you wants to come in the ambulance with us you can.’ The paramedics manoeuvred the stretcher outside the bathroom door. Lizzie, Tim and Robert stood by the bed.

  ‘I’ll go,’ Tim was first to answer.

  ‘I’ll go too,’ Lizzie began to follow.

  ‘Normally we’d only take one family member.’ The paramedic turned to look Lizzie in the eye, ‘But I suppose we can take you both.’

  Lizzie was afraid that wasn’t a good thing. Rules were only ever broken when they needed to be.

  ‘Go.’ Robert was calm. ‘Both of you. I’ll follow you there.’ He looked to the manager. ‘I’m sorry for ripping your key from your belt.’

  Chapter 33

  Sunday Afternoon – 2016

  ‘They have her in the resuscitation room.’ Lizzie and Tim met Robert at the swishing automatic door as he arrived. ‘We have to wait in the family room.’ Her voice trailed off anxiously.

  Tim paced away silently on the blue vinyl floor, his head hanging heavily as he followed the lined pattern that snaked along the hospital corridor. His shoes squeaked rebelliously, defying the solemnity of his mood.

  The swish and scrape of the swinging door from the resuscitation room silenced all three of them. Tim froze by the frosted window and craned his neck sideways to catch a glimpse inside, as the door crept closed. Like a vacuum, both Lizzie and Tim sucked in lungfuls of air as though that would be their last. But the door wasn’t opened for them.

  Inside the family room, brown leather sofas lined the walls and hospital chairs were dotted round small coffee tables. Sky News played on the small TV that hung on the wall. Used polystyrene coffee cups littered the tables and overflowed from the small bin beside the door. A small crucifix hung on the wall.

  ‘This is serious,’ Lizzie said.

  ‘We don’t know that yet.’ Tim sat beside her, shooting Robert a resigned glance across the table.

  ‘This room is only for families that they intend to give bad news to, there is no way that they’d have moved us in here unless it was bad,’ Lizzie said, her soft grey eyes filling with tears.

  ‘Let’s not pre-empt anything. Rose is a fighter. She’s in good hands.’ Robert was the voice of reason for both of them.

  ‘Now, a strong pot of tea.’ A nurse peered around the doorway and introduced herself, Julie, she said her name was. ‘A cup of sweet tea will keep you going.’ She directed her instructions to Tim knowingly, identifying him as the family head. ‘Is this all of you?’ She looked to Tim for the answer as she bent over the coffee table placing the contents of her tray carefully and quietly on the table. ‘Or are you waiting on anyone else?’ She made it sound as though she needed to know if she needed to bring more cups, but Tim knew that wasn’t the reason she asked.

  ‘This is all of us,’ Lizzie answered, but there was something about the expression that flashed briefly across Tim’s face that made Julie think otherwise.

  ‘Okay then,’ she paused, ‘I’ve let the team know that you are eagerly waiting for an update so, as soon as they can, they’ll come find you.’ Her smile was sympathetic. ‘In the meantime, I’m just next door.’ She looked at Tim’s expression again. ‘I might need someone,’ her eyes fell to Tim’s, ‘to get more details for Rose’s file, if that’s okay.’ Immediately Tim fixed to go with her. ‘No, no, have your tea first.’ She placed her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. ‘Drop in to me when you are finished,’ she said. ‘Are you Mrs O’Reilly’s husband?’

  ‘No, her brother. Tim,’ he clarified. ‘This is her daughter, Lizzie, and this is Robert, her brother-in-law.’

  ‘Grand, Tim,’ Julie had a great memory for names. �
�Finish your tea and come in to me then,’ she said.

  Tim wasn’t able to drink and moved to the window, standing motionless, peering out. Darkness had crept stealthily from the sky and the surrounding city lights began to flare, softly at first. Footsteps scurried past their door and with every voice that weaved its way through, they paused, waiting to hear news of Rose, only to be disappointed that the activity wasn’t for them.

  ‘I shouldn’t have insisted you all come to Kilkenny for that blasted funeral,’ Tim scolded. ‘If she hadn’t have been here, she’d be at home in her own bloody house right now.’ He stood staring out over the hospital grounds. ‘Safe.’ No one, not even Robert could comfort him. ‘These walls are closing in on me.’ Tim sighed. ‘I need to stretch my legs.’ He pulled back the door and propped it open. ‘I’ll go in and fill in the rest of the details, try and get an update,’ he said, leaving his tea untouched, ‘or do you want to do it, Liz?’ he asked, knowing full well that she’d decline.

  ‘You do it,’ she said tearily and Tim left to see Julie.

  ‘We should have gone up sooner.’ Lizzie’s balled tissue crumbled in her hands as she replayed every second of their morning in Kilkenny over and over again like a robot, analysing every detail of what she had seen. Robert took the tissue from her hand and replaced it with a clean one. ‘We don’t know how long she was lying there,’ she said, her heart shattering as she spoke, the pain and torment constricting inside her chest. ‘She could have been there all night,’ Lizzie sobbed.

  Robert sighed, there was nothing he could say. He moved to sit with her and placed his arm around her back.

  ‘Julie,’ Tim tapped on Julie’s open door.

  ‘Ah, Tim, come in, sit down.’ She swivelled her chair from her desk and faced the seat that Tim had taken. ‘I just need a few other details.’ She pulled a green file from a pile on her tray.

  ‘Is there any update?’ Tim said anxiously.

  ‘There is, I’ve just had word that they are just about finished in emergency and that the doctor is coming to see you.’

  ‘Oh,’ Tim could sense her reluctance to elaborate. ‘Can you not tell me anything else?’

  ‘Unfortunately not, the doctors must talk to you first,’ she said. ‘Protocol.’ Her apologetic tone didn’t ease Tim’s growing unease. ‘Tim,’ she considered how best to forewarn him, ‘is there anyone else who you need to call, at all?’ Tim looked at her but didn’t answer, his words were lost somewhere en route from his brain to his lips. ‘It’s just,’ she continued, ‘it might be a good idea to have people on standby, your sister, Rose, is still in a very serious condition.’ Her words were weighted heavily but she knew that Tim could bear the load, for now at least.

  ‘Ms O’Reilly’s family?’ Sloping around Julie’s door, the doctor, still in his scrubs startled Tim.

  ‘This is her brother, Tim,’ Julie said, rising from her chair. ‘The rest of the family are inside.’

  Tim unfolded his hands and stood to follow the doctor inside, he needed to get to Lizzie.

  ‘We have been working on your mother for some time and she is still in a very serious condition.’ The doctor perched on the arm of the chair as he spoke directly to Lizzie. ‘The injuries to her brain are quite severe so we have her sedated at the moment.’ Pausing momentarily to allow the information to be absorbed, the doctor continued, ‘Was she under any treatment at the time of the fall?’

  ‘Well,’ Tim cleared his throat, ‘she was attending Vincent’s, they suspected Motor Neurone Disease or one of the other neurological disorders.’ Tim remembered the pills that Robert had taken. ‘The pill box, Robert.’

  Robert took the box from his shirt and handed them to the doctor.

  ‘Thank you, we’ll have a look at these.’ He balanced the box on the file in his hand. ‘There is a fracture in the skull and we are concerned about the swelling.’

  Lizzie’s body began to shake, she pressed her heels firmly to the floor and clasped her hands tightly on her lap, to make the shaking less obvious.

  ‘Because of the swelling, there is immense pressure on her brain.’ The doctor spoke with the perfect combination of calmness and information. ‘So we need to make a small opening in her skull, what we call, a craniotomy, to release the pressure, reduce the swelling.’ The doctor looked at the family to make sure the information was being heard. ‘We are transferring her to Dublin, to Beaumont Hospital.’ Lizzie glanced at Tim and back to the doctor. ‘They will perform the craniotomy there.’

  ‘A helicopter will transfer her in the next hour. There is no room for family,’ Julie interjected. While the doctor was professional in imparting the medical knowledge, he couldn’t match Julie for pragmatism.

  ‘The next twenty-four hours are crucial.’ The doctor stood, as though protecting himself from the grief that enveloped the family. ‘But I must prepare you for the worst. Your mother is in a seriously critical condition. I must get back to her, but if you have any further questions, Julie can answer them.’ He nodded to Julie to take over, said goodbye to the family and left the room.

  ‘Can we see her before she goes?’ Lizzie sobbed.

  ‘I will bring you in briefly. I must warn you, she looks very swollen and will not be able to respond,’ Julie began to speak. ‘You will be upset when you see her,’ she said, her expression emphasising her words. ‘But, in my experience, patients can hear you and know you are there, so you must be strong,’ she warned. ‘Give her your strength, she’s going to need it.’ Julie was kind and considerate and skilled with people. She walked them through the corridor and waited while each of them disinfected their hands, then she gave them each a plastic apron to wear before they entered inside. ‘Just through here.’ Julie opened the door to the room where Rose lay. The plastic aprons they wore swished as they walked and the smell of the disinfectant hung in the air. ‘Don’t be alarmed by the beeps. They are monitoring her constantly,’ Julie said. Rose’s medical team, including the doctor that they had just spoken poured over her files at a computer to the side of her bed. ‘Rose.’ She walked to the bedside and placed her latex gloved hand on Rose’s. ‘Your family are here,’ she said, momentarily glancing at Lizzie and Tim, encouraging them to move closer to the bed. ‘They just wanted to see you before you leave.’ She squeezed Rose’s swollen hand, smiled at Lizzie and stepped away.

  Lizzie was frozen, unable to touch her. A symphony of beeps filled the space and coloured lines jumped up and down on the screens. Vaseline shimmered on her lips and skin and tiny motors purred as they poured clear liquids in through her veins. A trickle of brown blood had dried at the side of her neck in a jagged line from her ear to her shoulder. Edging forward, Lizzie took her mother’s hand. She stood there unable to speak.

  ‘Rose, we are here with you, love,’ Tim said, he moved to the opposite side of the flat bed. ‘They are sending you up to a neurosurgeon in Beaumont.’ He fought the urge to scoop her up and hold her, just as he had done the day Michael had been born. ‘We’ll be right behind you.’

  ‘It’s going to be okay, Mum,’ Lizzie cleared her throat and wiped her wet face with the back of her hand.

  ‘Rosie,’ Tim’s voice broke a little. ‘You just concentrate on getting better. I want to see my fighting Rosie, you hear me.’ He couldn’t finish. His tears fell too hard.

  ‘Tell your Mum you’ll see her in Dublin.’ Julie stepped forward. She put her hand on Lizzie’s back and tried to guide her away. ‘I’m sending them away now Rose,’ she said.

  ‘Love you, Mum,’ Lizzie whispered as she pulled herself away and leaned across her mother to kiss her. ‘See you in Dublin, Mum. Fight hard,’ she whispered in her ear. Lizzie’s tears wet her mother’s paper-thin cheeks as she lingered hoping for a response. ‘I don’t want to leave her.’ Lizzie was numb. ‘I just can’t believe this is happening.

  ‘I know, love, I know.’ Tim led her outside to where Robert stood waiting, already briefed by the nurse of the arrangements.

  ‘I think
you and Lizzie should get in my car now and get a head start on the road. I’ll wait and see her off in the helicopter and then I’ll head back for Rose’s car and all our stuff.’ Robert was Tim’s rock. ‘I’ll get back to Dublin as soon as I can.’ He looked at Tim and then to Lizzie. ‘Just go, but don’t speed,’ he warned. ‘One accident a day is enough.’

  Chapter 34

  Sunday Afternoon – 2016

  ‘Michael.’ Lucas stood from his table in The Park’s sumptuous lobby as the lunch guests milled back and forth from the dining room. ‘I’m glad you decided to come.’ When his phone had beeped an hour earlier he had thought it was Lizzie messaging to say why she hadn’t shown up, he was surprised to see that it was Michael.

  ‘I’m here,’ Michael answered, ignoring Lucas’s extended hand. ‘Can I get a coffee?’ His tone was far more pleasant to the waiter who was passing by.

  Lucas sat back down; he knew that Michael wasn’t happy about him being there, but that was partly the reason he wanted to meet him. Especially now, with the information Marie had given him and his own connection to Lizzie. ‘As you know, Marie rang me a few days ago, to see what I could do with the story.’ Lucas attempted a smile, Michael didn’t encourage it. ‘So, since she called me,’ he added quickly and turned his phone upright on the table, checking for the fiftieth time if Lizzie had texted, ‘I’ve been digging around a bit and the angle that most of the…’

  ‘Hacks, is that the word you are looking for?’ Michael spat the words at him.

  ‘If that’s what you want to call them.’ Lucas held his patience admirably, he expected nothing less from Michael McGrath, and if he was honest, he was distracted waiting for Lizzie’s phone call, she had said she would meet him at noon and it was already nearly two in the afternoon. He wondered had she decided to go back to Dublin, after all, just to avoid him. ‘The hacks, as you call them.’ Lucas shook his head at the irony of Michael’s anger directed at him, if only he could tell him what he knew and what he had saved Michael from. ‘These hacks, seem to be focusing on the whole Russian bog pilot comparison, body in a ditch for forty-six years, World War Two, et cetera, et cetera, I don’t think they see a worthwhile story in just the murder investigation bit.’