“Stay with me, Rosie,” I said.
At some point Bruce put his head round the door. I went to speak to him. He told me not to worry about work. I wasn’t. He said he’d do my two scheduled operations that afternoon and would contact Anna to see what she could do. He said that everyone upstairs in cardio sent their love and good wishes.
Some time after that, Dan appeared with Jenny and Max. My mother had called him, apparently, and asked him to bring the two of them from school. Then Andy arrived with Sam and Adam - my mother’s doing again.
It was good to have everyone there and my colleagues in HDU were wonderful. We were given the relatives’ room to ourselves, and the children were able to go in pairs to sit with their mother for a little while. Andy had to get back to work but he made me promise to let him know if anything changed. I couldn’t speak when he said this. I just gave him a clumsy hug.
I stayed at Rosie’s side after that and the children, Dan and my mother took it in turns to sit with us. By evening I was concerned that my mother had been running around all day and was looking beat. Dan said he’d take her home to his place and then come back for the kids. I was going to be staying at the hospital and we were standing in the corridor outside Rosie’s room trying to figure out where the children should spend the night, when Kirsty arrived.
“Tom,” she said, giving me a hug. “How is she?”
“She’s hanging in there – but it’s difficult to tell – she …” I struggled to speak. “Kirsty – what am I going to do? I can’t lose her. I can’t.” I fell into her arms and came dangerously close to sobbing into her shoulder.
“Oh, Tom.” Kirsty held me tight. “Rosie’s a fighter. She’ll beat this. She will - she’ll beat this.”
I suddenly felt very weak and absolutely shattered. I hung on tightly to Kirsty as I staggered a little.
“Oh, careful mate,” came a voice.
I was held round the shoulders in a strong grip and led to a seat. The corridor swam around me.
“Deep breaths, Doc.” The voice came again.
Kirsty’s voice said, “Give him this.”
The other voice said, “Here, take a sip.”
I took the cup and sipped the cold water as instructed. Gradually the corridor floor stopped moving and things came into focus again. I looked up – Kirsty was further along the corridor talking to Dan.
“Tough day?” It was the voice again. I turned to where it came from.
It was Rick. “Thought you were going to hit the deck – good job I was here - don’t think Kirsty could have caught you.”
“Rick – I might have known you’d show up. How did you find out Rosie was in here?” I couldn’t be bothered to make the effort to even pretend to be civil.
He ignored my tone. “I was at Kirsty’s – we’d arranged to meet at hers after she finished at school. We were going to have a takeaway at her place. Then your Mother phoned about Rosie.”
“You were at Kirsty’s? You don’t waste time do you? You’ve not changed. One woman still not enough?” I knew as I was saying this that I was being ridiculous, but I couldn’t help myself. Again, Rick let it pass.
“I’m with Kirsty – we’re together – a couple - have been since I came back in June. I’m flattered that you think I’ve still got the old, amazing, pulling power, but I’m strictly a one woman fellow nowadays.”
I almost managed a smile. “Oh, so you and Rosie – you’re not – she’s not..?”
“No we’re not – she’s not.” He shook his head, smiling. “Rosie’s a mate. I care a lot about her. She was special to me a long time ago, but I blew it. She’s yours, Tom – only an idiot wouldn’t see that. Present company included.”
I cleared my throat.
“Accepted,” he replied.
Kirsty came up to us. She said that Dan was heading off with my mother. It was Rick who suggested that he and Kirsty took the kids home to Gullane and stayed with them. I reminded Kirsty that Adam would need to be taken to Ruby’s. But she said that he wanted to spend the night with the others and he was quite happy to go to Gullane. In any other circumstances this would have been the best possible news, but that evening it simply underlined how serious things had become.
As they were leaving, Rick gave me his keys to the flat. He told me to make use of it to grab a shower or to sleep.
“We’ll bring you some clothes and stuff from home tomorrow,” he said. “But feel free to borrow a change of clothes from my wardrobe if you want to, in the meantime. After all it won’t be the first time.” He smiled. I found that the desire to punch him had gone.
After everyone left I went back to sit with Rosie. At about half-past-nine there was a knock at the door.
It was Bruce again. He beckoned me to the doorway. He had a tray of food with him. “I hear you’ve not eaten all day. Get this down you. And I suppose it’s pointless to tell you to get some rest.”
“Yes, it is. But I am starving – thanks. And I suppose it’s pointless asking what you’re still doing here at this time?”
Bruce shrugged sheepishly. He sat with Rosie while I went to the relatives’ room and ate my food. As I was about to go back in, Bruce came out.
“Doctor’s with her just now – checking her over,” he said.
“Right,” I answered.
Soon the door to Rosie’s room opened and a young lad, who looked about twelve, came out. “Mr McAllister?”
“Yes.”
“Doctor Williams – Dave Williams,” he shook my hand.
I fought the urge to ask him if he was qualified and listened while he made the usual speech about the patient, my Rosie, being comfortable and holding her own, and the next twenty four hours being crucial.
That night I dozed, fitfully and uncomfortably, in the chair at Rosie’s bedside. The night nurse came and went, doing her observations and changing the drips. Every time she came in she offered me a cup of tea or the chance to go and stretch my legs. I only took her up on her offers on a couple of occasions.
There was no change in Rosie overnight. When the morning shift of nurses arrived I was told, politely but firmly, to go away for a while. I was assured I would be called if anything changed.
As I was leaving, one of the nurses called me back. She handed me a small plastic bag. “You better take this for safe keeping, Mr McAllister. It’s your wife’s ring. She was wearing it on a chain round her neck. I guess she must have lost weight and was scared of losing it if she kept it on her finger.”
I couldn’t say anything. I just took the bag from her and clasped it tightly.
I didn’t go far, just up to the cardio theatre area for a quick shower and a shave, and then down to the canteen for some breakfast. While I was there, Bruce and Anna came in. Once they had their coffees they joined me at my table.
“The nurses downstairs said we might find you here,” said Bruce, as he sat down.
“Tom – how are you bearing up?” Anna asked, touching my arm.
“Oh – I’m fine – you know…”
“They’re pleased with Rosie down on the ward. She’s no worse – so that’s good,” said Bruce.
I nodded. “Yes, I suppose so -”
“Don’t worry about us upstairs either,” he went on. “Anna’s in for the next two days.”
“I can do Thursday and Friday as well,” said Anna. “And I was doing the weekend on-call anyway –so that’s fine. Then I’m supposed to be on holiday for the next couple of weeks, but I can postpone – it’s not important.”
I’d forgotten about Anna’s holiday plans. I’d arranged my own leave for the two weeks after Anna got back, when Jenny and Max would be on half-term holiday from school. Yes, I’d booked a fortnight off work – that was a first. And not only that, I’d decided that I was going to get my sabbatical set up before the end of the year.
I shook my head at Anna. “Your holiday is important. It’s all arranged. You need to spend time with your husband and daughter.”
“Yes, indeed,” Bruce intervened. “You’re going - no arguments. Time with your family is what’s important. Don’t take as long as Tom and I have to reach that conclusion. We’ll manage. I’ll sort it out.”
I was back in Rosie’s room, trying to concentrate on reading the newspaper, when Amanda Knox arrived. She spent a few minutes checking Rosie’s chart, which I’d already scrutinised, and then she told me she’d spoken to the rest of the team caring for Rosie. They were all agreed that Rosie was responding well and they were going to decrease her sedation over the day. I thanked Amanda and clung to the fact that this was a good sign.
As the day went on Rosie got more restless. All I could do was hold her hand.
In the afternoon I called Dan and asked him to phone round everyone with the latest news. I also said to tell people not to come in to the hospital that day as, if Rosie did come round, she wouldn’t be up to visitors. Dan said he’d stay with the children in Gullane until I came home, however long that took.
My mother called me to say she’d contacted Michael and that he was on his way to Scotland. She didn’t say, ‘just in case,’ but we both knew the implication.
Then at around four o’clock in the afternoon, while I was grappling with the Scotsman crossword, Rosie started to speak. She became agitated and struggled to get the oxygen mask off. I lifted it away from her face and took her hand. I put my face close to hers. She opened her eyes.
“I’m here, Rosie. I’m here,” I whispered.
“Tom,” was all she said.
For the next few days, Rosie remained very weak as she battled to overcome what could have been an overwhelming infection. She slept most of the time and wasn’t up to talking very much. I was persuaded to go to the flat to sleep and to take a little time out each day, but for the most part I stayed at Rosie’s side.
At some point, Michael arrived. He came straight from the airport to the hospital. Rosie looked astounded when she opened her eyes to find him standing by the bed. They hadn’t seen each other for several years, and their joy at the reunion was moving to watch. I knew that Rosie had been in regular contact with her brother and had told him what had been happening in the last few months. I didn’t know exactly what she’d said, or if she’d asked him about the events surrounding Robbie’s birth. I felt a bit awkward with them so I decided to leave them alone for a while. Michael followed me out the door when I was leaving.
“Tom – before you go, mate – we need to talk – about –well you know what about.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “not here – not now. But we will talk.”
“Does Rosie know the whole story? Have you explained everything?”
“No, she doesn’t. She only knows that I was in touch with Heather, during the estrangement and knew about Robbie and the adoption. I was going to tell her everything this weekend – we were going away together – taking Sam up to the uni – and then this happened.”
“Well, she won’t hear it from me, Tom. This is your call, your story, and, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I ran away after it all – after Heather – and everything. I couldn’t face Rosie – couldn’t face not telling her. But you did the right thing.”
“Look, go back in and be with her now. She’ll drift off to sleep quite quickly. But just sit with her. We’ll talk soon.” I left the two of them together.
As I wandered along the corridor, I passed the hospital sanctuary and found that I was drawn inside. I’d never been in before. I had it to myself and I took a seat near the front. I wasn’t really religious but, since Rosie’s diagnosis and departure from home, I’d often found myself praying to somebody, I wasn’t sure who, especially in the desperate hours in the middle of the night. I’d prayed she’d get better and come back to me. In the last few days I’d prayed even more. I begged for Rosie to survive. I told God that even if his price was that I couldn’t have Rosie back, then that was fine, he was just to make her well, let her live. I even asked him to take my life instead.
I was sitting in the little chapel, saying this prayer once again, when I became aware that someone else had come in. I looked round.
It was Reverend Jack Martin, one of the hospital chaplains. I knew him from his visits to my ward. Jack was a popular person around the hospital - with staff and patients. He was a big man, taller than me, broad and bearded, a man of presence. His distinctive laugh was well known around the wards, but I’d heard from many of the patient’s families and friends that he was also enormously comforting when the worst happened.
He came and sat beside me and shook my hand. “Tom, I’m glad to see you. I was going to come and find you. I heard about your wife. How is she?”
“She’s fighting back, but not in the clear yet. I just thought I’d put in a word for her, you know, with…” I looked upwards. “I know I’ve probably no right to ask.”
“We all have the right to ask, Tom.”
“I’ve not been – I’m not – you know, religious. I don’t know what I believe – if I believe. You don’t think it’s a bit of a cheek?”
“No, not at all, and even if I did, it’s not for me to judge. I think God can probably cope with any presumption on your part.”
“Do you think it works, Jack? You know, ‘ask and you shall receive’- all that stuff.”
“I believe in the power of prayer, yes. Whether we get what we think we ought to receive is another matter. We don’t get what we want, but we do get what we need. God is mysterious, but I believe he hears us when we call to him.”
“I don’t deserve any attention – but Rosie doesn’t deserve to die – I’d rather he took me to fill his quota.”
Jack smiled. “I don’t think God is some kind of middle-manager with a list of targets to achieve. Neither do I think you have to deserve his attention. We can’t do deals with Him. We just have to trust that what happens is for the best, for reasons we can’t understand. And if we’re suffering we’re not alone. He’s there beside us, beside you, beside Rosie. Right now he’s holding Rosie in the palm of his hand and he’ll do right by her.”
I don’t pretend that I really understood what Jack was saying, but it was comforting nevertheless. He said he’d sit with me for a while and that if I wanted him to visit Rosie I’d only to ask.
I felt better when I left the sanctuary. The optimism that I’d started to feel before Rosie got ill had returned.
And over the next couple of days, it began to look like Rosie was winning. She was awake for longer periods and able to cope with short visits from the children, as well as from Michael and me. She didn’t have the strength to say very much, but she liked to be read to – something Ma had suggested. Ma even got me a copy of ‘Other Stories and Other Stories’ an anthology by Ali Smith, an author she knew Rosie liked.
And so I would spend part of each afternoon reading aloud to Rosie. Neither of us could have coped with a heart to heart discussion at that time, but I found I enjoyed the time that I spent just sitting and reading to her. She seemed to find it soothing, so much so that she sometimes dropped off mid story.
Jenny suggested getting her an MP3 player, which I did, and she and the other children spent a lot of time downloading music that they thought their mother would like. Rosie was delighted with it and with the children’s thoughtfulness in their choices of music. Listening to her favourite tunes also tended to send her to sleep.
On one such occasion, as I sat at her bedside, watching her as she slept, I wondered if it would ever be all right between us again. I took hold of her hand and held it to my face. I’d been so hopeful that going to St Andrews together would be a turning point – for the better. Of course it was an indescribable relief that Rosie had overcome the infection but now that she had, the worry and fear were replaced by a leaden disappointment. Any chance of a proper heart to heart seemed as far away as ever.
I kissed the tips of her fingers and whispered, “Forgive me, Rosie, forgive me.
Chapter Thirty Nine
It was d
ecided that I’d take Sam up to St Andrews, as planned, on the Sunday. Rosie, despite her weakened state, insisted - and I was glad to do something real and practical for her.
Adam surprised me by saying that he’d come along too, so that I wouldn’t have to be on my own on the way back. Naturally, I was both pleased and touched by this and determined to make the most of it.
So on the Sunday morning the car was packed and the three of us set off.
Adam sat in front with me and immediately plugged himself into his i-pod. So at this stage, at least, I didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing – conversation clearly wasn’t on his agenda. It wasn’t my intention to say anything to upset him. I could see that Rosie had been right all along. I’d fully accepted that he would be the judge of what was best for him. I’d come to terms with the fact he wasn’t going to university and that it really didn’t matter. I’d come to trust that he would sort out his own life on his own terms. But I still felt wary with him. It still seemed we circled round each other, unsure and tentative. However, he was there in the car and by his own choice. I took it as a good sign and tried to relax.
Sam was very quiet in the back – but not because she was listening to music. She’d been subdued since first thing. I glanced in the mirror at her from time to time. She just seemed to be staring out of the window. There was none of her usual chat. I hoped she was going to be all right away from home. What if she hated university or couldn’t make friends or some lad mistreated her.
“Are you okay, in the back there?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied.
Change Of Life Page 28