Just for the Rush

by Jane Lark

  I slid the contacts up to Mum’s number and touched it. ‘Mum.’ Her name came out as a sob as the tears fell again. I hadn’t seen myself in a mirror but the way people were looking at me… I must look a wreck. ‘Jack was in an accident. He’s hurt. They aren’t even sure he’ll make it…’ I choked on the tears.

  ‘Oh good Lord, sweetheart. We’ll come up to London. Brian! Jack has had a serious accident! We need to go to London!’

  I sniffed and wiped my nose on my sleeve. ‘I’m going to be in the hospital with him.’

  ‘That’s okay, we’ll be there when you come away from the hospital. I’ll call you tomorrow when we reach Paddington Station and we’ll find a hotel near you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  I called Milly afterwards and she asked me if I wanted to go to hers – she promised to have a bottle of wine waiting. But this wasn’t a pain I could talk or drink away. I just wanted to cry.

  When I reached home, I pressed the code in, went inside and walked upstairs. I felt as if Jack should be next to me, pushing the door wider and holding it for me.

  My case stood on the floor by the door, with my leather suit thrown over it and my motorcycle helmet and boots beside it. I looked at the place where I’d sat through the night panicking because he wasn’t here.

  I couldn’t believe he was in hospital. It wasn’t Jack. Jack was full of life. I lay down on the bed, but I didn’t undress.

  I was too exhausted not to sleep.

  When I woke up I looked at my phone. Five a.m. My heart hoped for a text from Jack, or a message from him.

  I got up, had a shower and changed, then walked to the hospital.

  The woman doing the night shift was still working and she let me in to see Jack. He looked the same, quiet and peaceful, but totally reliant on all the machines, tubes and wires he was attached to.

  I held his hand and kept kissing the back of it and whispering to him, about nothing, only stupid things. I didn’t have the confidence his mum had to speak as if he was conscious. But I spoke for my sake as much as his.

  ‘Music is good too,’ the nurse said.

  I looked over and smiled. ‘It’s all on his phone.’

  ‘His mother, Lady Rendell, has that.’

  ‘Lady…’ My eyebrows whizzed up. What?

  She laughed. ‘You didn’t know? his parents have a title.’

  I shut my eyes and lifted the back of his hand to my forehead. For God’s sake, Jack, you could have told me. I think I’d even said Mrs Rendell yesterday and she hadn’t corrected me. He’d talked to me about his lonely childhood and boarding school and the weight of responsibility he’d felt his dad had always ground into him, but he’d never said he came from a family like that.

  ‘I’ll ask her if she has his phone later.’ I looked back at Jack.

  At Christmas, when we’d been in the Lake District, we’d said we’d only focus on now – but now all I could do was think about the future we’d started planning. I wanted to live that future with Jack.

  His mum came in with his dad at ten o’clock. His dad was well-spoken too. But now I understood why. They didn’t sound upper-class; they were upper-class.

  His dad shook my hand. He was perfectly nice to me, although his gaze kept turning to Jack’s face and the muscle in his jaw twitched occasionally. He hadn’t come to meet me. He’d come to see Jack.

  I mentioned the music on Jack’s phone, then left them to talk to Jack alone. His dad had flown back from the US. He’d come a long way to get here.

  I didn’t leave the hospital because that would be leaving Jack. I went to the café and got a coffee, then I drank it alone, suspended in time. Waiting. Hoping.

  His parents came in after about an hour and bought me another coffee when they bought theirs. They said the doctors were taking another x-ray of his lungs.

  The awkwardness that had hung around me yesterday, when I’d first met his mum, was back – now I knew about their title.

  ‘You were up early…’ His mother smiled at me. ‘They told us you were in here before seven.’

  ‘I couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘I should imagine,’ Jack’s father said. He gave me the impression he thought I was odd; he kept looking at me with a frown, as though I was a puzzle to be worked out. ‘But you had some time with him alone, to talk.’

  ‘I begged him to get better.’ I laughed at my stupidity, but it was a bitter sound.

  His mother smiled. ‘Well, it is probably better you are the one to do that. He would never listen to me or his father. I told him to avoid the woman he’s just divorced, when he brought her home, and he married her a month later.’

  Maybe that was why he’d ended up with Sharon. To spite his parents. I could imagine it in a young Jack; he’d have loved to show them that he was the master of his life. But what a stupid reason to waste years – and now he’d had a second chance and… I saw his face as he twisted around on the sofa in Nero’s, to tell me he was single again.

  When we walked back down to the intensive-care unit, my phone rang. ‘Mum…’

  ‘We’re at Paddington Station. We’re booked into the little hotel around the corner from your old flat.’ Where Rick had proposed to me. ‘We’ll drop the luggage off, then we’ll come over to the hospital.’

  ‘No, Mum, it’s okay. I’d rather be at the hospital alone. I want to be in the room with him and you can’t go in there.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter; we can sit and wait outside, and when you’re ready to go we’ll be there. I’m not leaving you to go through this on your own, darling. You’ve been going through so much recently.’

  I smiled as if she was in the room. ‘Thank you. I’ll see you later, then. But I might be with Jack when you get here.’

  ‘We’ll be in the waiting room, don’t worry.’

  I looked at Jack’s parents as we reached the doors leading into the intensive-care unit. His dad pushed the door open and held it for me, in the same way Jack would’ve. ‘My mum and dad have come to London too. They’re coming to the hospital. But I’ve told them to wait out here.’

  His mother nodded.

  The next time I came out. Mum and Dad were there.

  The doctor had asked to speak to his parents alone, and so I’d had to leave, but my heart was thumping and my hand trembled as I tucked my hair behind my ear.

  Mum wrapped her arms around me. I hung on to her and cried on her shoulder, longing for Jack’s fortress of comfort.

  Then Mum took me to the café and bought me a cup of coffee and a piece of chocolate cake, insisting I ate. The chocolate cake tasted like gravel. My mind wasn’t on food – it was focused on what the doctors might be saying about Jack.

  After about half an hour, Jack’s parents walked in. His mother had been crying; there were tear stains cutting through the foundation on her cheeks and her eye makeup had smeared.

  I lifted a hand to say, over here. They acknowledged me before they queued to get a coffee.

  ‘Jack’s parents,’ I told Mum and Dad, ‘they’re a Lord and Lady.’

  ‘Good grief.’

  ‘I know, Mum, but don’t make a fuss.’

  ‘I’m not going to—’ She was cut off by his father approaching.

  Dad stood up and held out a hand. ‘Hello, I’m Brian, Ivy’s father.’

  ‘George,’ Jack’s dad said, as he put their tray down. Then he shook Dad’s hand.

  ‘Elizabeth.’ My mum stood and held out a hand too.

  Jack’s mum came up. She’d been to the toilets to repair her makeup. ‘I’m Catherine.’ She held out her hand.

  I touched his mum’s arm, to get her attention. ‘What did the doctor say? Is it okay for me to go back?’

  She looked at me, her eyes so like Jack’s. They had a depth that spoke of soul-deep sadness.

  It was bad news.

  ‘In a moment – sit down and let George tell you what the doctor said first.’

  My parents moved the chairs round so Jack’s paren
ts could sit with us. I felt time stop and hover on pause.

  When everyone was settled, George’s Adam’s apple shifted as he swallowed.

  I looked at Catherine. Her eyes were shimmering.

  ‘The doctor told us that there is no sign that Jack is improving, so we should prepare ourselves to consider donating his organs, in case he does not recover.’

  My mum was sitting on my right. She gripped my hand as it rested on the table.

  ‘That isn’t to say that he will not recover, but he is seriously ill, and unless he improves in the next week then…’

  They’d switch off the machines…. George didn’t say it, but that was what he meant.

  I screamed inside as the café turned into a blur of people, seats and noise.

  ‘We thought you should know. You should have the chance to prepare yourself for the worst too, if…’ his mum picked up a serviette and touched the corners of her eyes, as though catching the tears before they rolled out.

  ‘Excuse me.’ I couldn’t say how I got through that packed café. All I focused on was the door into the toilets, and when I was in there I pushed past a woman changing a baby and shut myself in a cubicle and cried with loud sobs.

  I suppose if I’d been anywhere else other than a hospital, then people would have shouted through the door and asked what was wrong, but in a hospital I bet they were scared of the answer. It was Jack’s mother who eventually came and fetched me. By then my crying had become quiet streams of tears and catching, short breaths, as the pain tightened about my throat and my chest, screwing the hurt up tighter and tighter.

  She knocked on the cubicle door. I was hunched up, leaning against it.

  ‘Ivy… Dear… Come out.’

  I couldn’t; I didn’t want to face this. I wanted Jack back. I wanted to be in the Lake District. I wanted to be standing at the bottom of the cliff watching him play Spiderman. I wanted to be sitting on the back of his bike, feeling the roar of the engine, and the wind, and the speed as I hung on to him.

  ‘Come along. We’re going to see him.’

  I didn’t answer.

  ‘You know it would hurt him to think of you upset.’ It was said gently, but it was said to make me think of Jack, not myself. He was downstairs, lying motionless on a bed, maybe able to hear and all he’d be able to hear was the machines.

  I wiped my cheeks, pulled myself together and opened the cubicle door. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs… Lady—’

  ‘Just Catherine.’

  She gave me a hug. I held her too.

  ‘Don’t worry. I had my own moment before we came upstairs. I think we would be abnormal if this did not make us cry.’

  As we walked back out she told me that she’d called Victoria and asked her to bring Daisy in tomorrow, just in case…

  In case he died. The words breathed through me. Words that were impossible to believe.

  His father was waiting with my parents. He had a face like stone, locking every emotion in. He would not cry, I could tell. He was not the sort to cry. He was where Jack had got his need for control from.

  But Jack would cry. He’d showed me numerous emotions: desire, fear, passion, anger… I think he would have cried for me. I knew he would cry for Daisy.

  After his parents had left, I was alone with Jack in the dark, with the sound of the monitors and the occasional appearance of the same nurse who’d been on the nightshift yesterday.

  I wanted to lie down beside him, curl up on his bed, with his chest for a pillow. I wanted to feel his arm around me and hear his deep, sarcastic laugh rumble in his throat. I didn’t want to listen to the rhythmic sounds of the machine keeping him breathing and the monitors tracking his heartbeat.

  I even prayed, bargaining with a God I hadn’t spoken to since primary-school assemblies. Please save him. Please. Please. Please let him be alright. Please. Please. The word rewound and replayed through my head. Please. Please. I held his hand, my other rested over the white blanket on his hip.

  I bowed my head and pressed my forehead on to the sheet by his side as I prayed again.

  The nurse touched my shoulder. I jerked.

  ‘I think you should go home and get some rest.’ I’d been asleep. ‘Your parents are waiting for you outside.’

  I’d forgotten they were even here. I blinked the sleep from my eyes and stared at Jack. He was yellowish today and I couldn’t see his beautiful eyes; they were still taped shut, while his mouth hung open around the tube going down his throat to help him breathe.

  ‘Go home. You’ll be better company for him tomorrow if you’ve had some sleep. You need to look after yourself. Jack isn’t going anywhere; he’ll be here in the morning.’

  I sighed. I knew I couldn’t stay here all night. I squeezed Jack’s hand and leant to kiss his forehead. He was so cold. ‘I have to go for a little while. I’ll come back as quickly as I can. I love you. Goodnight.’ I kissed his forehead again and then whispered into his ear. ‘Get well.’ Then I let him go.

  I stepped out of a horror-filled fantasy world when I pushed open the double doors into the room where Mum and Dad were waiting. My heart was left behind, lying on the bed, cold and unconscious—with Jack.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘It’s eleven o’clock, sweetheart,’ Dad said.

  I nodded. But what did time matter? Mum picked up my bag. I’d left it with them and not even remembered.

  Mum led me upstairs with an arm around me. We walked to the tube station.

  Taxis passed in the street, cars, buses. People walked all around us, some shouting and laughing, on their journey from one place to another. The sounds were echoes in my head. I was too numb.

  Mum and Dad took me to a McDonald’s near where I lived and made me eat. But even chewing and swallowing didn’t feel real. I wasn’t in my body. I was at the hospital with Jack. Still holding his hand and praying.

  ‘Why don’t you come and sleep at the hotel with us,’ Mum suggested. ‘I’m sure they’ll have a room.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. I’d rather be at home.’ Jack’s atmosphere was there. His smell. My memories. The things he’d bought me.

  When I woke up, it was dark outside. I reached over and picked up my phone. Four-thirty a.m. I got out of bed and showered. Then dressed in a hoodie, jeans and my Converse.

  Dawn broke as I walked across London.

  It was a little after six when I walked along the hall to the ICU and into the waiting room, then pressed the buzzer to call the nursing staff. A blonde-haired nurse, who I’d not seen before, answered the door. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Ivy Cooper. I’m Jack Rendell’s girlfriend. Can I come in and see him?’

  ‘Ah, oh, you’re really early, I’m sorry, the doctor…’ She stopped talking and smiled at me. ‘You’ll have to wait here, I’m afraid. The doctor is with him.’

  My hand lifted to catch hold of her arm. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I’m not supporting him, but I’ll ask his nurse to come and speak to you when she can, but she’s really busy.’ Then she was gone.

  Why was the doctor with him at six a.m.?

  My heart whacked against my ribs like it wanted to be freed from my chest. I bit my lip when I sat down, but ten minutes later I stood up and walked across the room, then back again.

  Twenty minutes later I was still walking; no one had come out to talk to me. I looked at the door. They were busy, but I was worried to the point that I felt I was going to collapse from hyperventilating. I pressed the buzzer, then sat down and my heels tapped on the floor as my hands clasped together in my lap.

  After ten more minutes a woman, dressed in a hijab and normal clothes, not the pyjama things all the nurses wore, came out. ‘Ivy Cooper?’

  ‘Yes.’ I stood up.

  ‘Hello.’ She held out a hand. ‘I’m Dr Gymer.’

  ‘Hello.’

  She sat down, so I sat down, turning sideways to listen to her. ‘Okay, so we took an x-ray early this morning and it was good news. Jack’s lungs are fully in
flated, so we decided to try and take him off the machine that’s been helping him breathe to see if he could breathe alone.’

  I bit my lip.

  ‘He’s doing fine. He’s breathing and his lungs are inflating. We’re just bringing him round from the medication. Hopefully you should be able to go in and see him in a while. But I’m sorry, it’s going to be a little longer, so we can get him settled. His oxygen levels and his blood pressure are still very low, and the medication we’ve been using to keep him asleep is going to take a while to work its way out of his system.’

  I nodded. ‘Does it mean he’s going to be okay?’

  She smiled at me. ‘It means that if everything is fine for the next twenty-four hours then he’s probably out of the woods, certainly the risk of any major problems will be low.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I wanted to hug her.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ She stood up.

  So did I.

  ‘Why don’t you get a drink and something to eat? As I said, it’s going to be a while longer before you can go in.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said again, before she disappeared back through the door.

  Jack was behind there, in the bed, breathing. ‘Ahh!’ I squealed, then looked up. ‘Thank you.’ I walked on air up to the café, my heart racing with excitement. Maybe he’d talk to me today. The future rolled into motion, like I’d pressed play on our film. I could see us.

  I drank my coffee outside in the street, while birds chirped in the trees calling out a good morning to the world. It was full daylight and the street was packed with people on their way to work.

  Work.

  I pulled out my phone and texted Emma. ‘Hi, I’m with Jack at the hospital. They think he’s going to be okay.’

  I should’ve got his mum’s number. I couldn’t contact her and tell her. But his parents would be here in a couple of hours.

  I texted my mum. ‘Jack’s okay! They’ve taken him off the machine! I’ll see you later.’

  I went back inside with a smile on my face. The lift was too slow, so I gave up on it and ran down the stairs, then along the corridor.