‘What sort of flowers do you fancy, pet?’ Stanley asked his wife as they drove along the country lanes.
‘Oh, you’re the expert, Stanley,’ she replied. ‘I just like a nice splash of colour. Begonias always do well, and Busy Lizzies; and marigolds, those nice big African ones.’
‘Aye, and petunias, they make a good display. And how about some fuchsias; I thought I might make a hanging basket with trailing fuchsias—’ He stopped talking suddenly, and Vera heard him give a gasp as though he was short of breath.
‘What’s the matter, Stanley?’ she asked. ‘Have you got that pain again?’ He had complained a few times about indigestion recently, but it had passed off when he had taken a couple of Rennies.
‘Aye, just a twinge,’ he replied. ‘It’ll go off. We’re nearly there, then we can go and have a cup of tea at that little café they’ve opened.’
‘Stop the car, Stanley, and have a rest.’
‘No; it’ll be alright, I tell you. We’ll be there in a minute or two.’ He drove along slowly. Then, ‘Oh, Vera … oh, dear God!’ he cried. ‘I can’t … I can’t breathe … Vera … help me!’
He bent towards the steering wheel, trying desperately to hold on to it. Vera never knew what had happened. It was thought that his foot had landed on the accelerator pedal instead of the brake as the car sped away out of control, veered across the lane and crashed into the ditch.
Vera was knocked unconscious as she was thrown forwards, hitting her head against the windscreen. The next thing she was aware of was a knocking on the car window and someone opening the door. An anxious voice, a man’s voice was saying he would get help, he would phone for an ambulance.
Vera opened her eyes and looked into the face of a complete stranger; a kindly middle-aged face, and his wife was beside him. ‘Yes … please,’ Vera managed to gasp. ‘My husband … Stanley … heart attack, I think.’ She knew that she was injured as well. She could feel blood running from a cut on her forehead and she was hurting all over. But she managed to get out the words, ‘Garden centre … up the road … Tell Mr Hill … and Kevin … friends of ours …’ She slumped sideways as the pain became too much to bear.
‘Stay here with them,’ the man said to his wife. ‘I’ll drive back to Sunnyhill and phone for an ambulance. That poor chap doesn’t look good to me. I hope he’s going to make it.’
Mr Hill was surprised to see his last customer back again, and in a very anxious state. ‘An accident … just round the corner,’ he began. ‘A man and his wife; they’re friends of yours, so the woman said. And she said to tell Kevin; he’s your son, isn’t he? We must get an ambulance, quick as we can.’
‘Right away,’ said Mr Hill. He dialled 999 and gave the details, then he called to Kevin who was working nearby.
Kevin was distressed when he heard that the car was a Ford Anglia, a blue one, and it was a middle-aged couple who had been injured. ‘Most likely a heart attack,’ said the man; he was a customer known to Kevin as Mr Armstrong. ‘The woman, she said her husband was called Stanley. Then she passed out again, poor lass. They’re friends of yours, she said.’
‘Yes … yes, they are,’ replied Kevin, almost too shocked to speak. ‘Their daughter, Debbie … she’s my girlfriend.’ He shook his head in a state of bewilderment. ‘I must phone her, right away.’
It was late afternoon when Rhoda knocked, then poked her head round the door. ‘Phone call for you, Debbie. I think it’s that young man of yours.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ said Debbie. She didn’t ask which one. Rhoda would find that very amusing, and sometimes she was far too nosy.
Debbie and Karen had just returned from a shopping trip to town and were having a cup of tea. It was Karen who remarked with a grin, ‘Now, I wonder which one that’ll be?’
‘Haven’t a clue,’ said Debbie, ‘but whichever one it is they took their time.’
When she picked up the phone and said a curt ‘Hello …’ she heard Kevin’s voice.
‘Hello, Debbie,’ he began, sounding subdued, as well he might. But then he went on to say, ‘I’m sorry; I have some bad news for you, It’s your parents …’
‘Why? What is it? What’s happened?’ She clung to the table for support, then sat down on the chair at the side, feeling her legs turn to jelly.
She listened intently as he told her about the accident. He guessed they were on their way to the garden centre – they were only a quarter of a mile or so away – when the car left the road and landed in the ditch. ‘We think your dad must have had a heart attack. I don’t know any more at the moment. My dad’s gone back with Mr Armstrong – that’s the man who came to tell us – to see how they are; and we’ve phoned for an ambulance. It should arrive very soon.’
‘Oh! Oh no … how awful!’ Debbie was trembling and could hardly speak the words. But she knew what she had to do. ‘I’ll come as soon as I can,’ she said. I’ll get a train and I’ll be there … I don’t know when, later tonight I expect.’
‘No, Debbie,’ said Kevin. ‘I’ll come and fetch you, right away. I’ll find out what I can, then I’ll drive down to Leeds. It’ll take … oh, about three hours, maybe more? But I’ll be there. Just wait for me, and try not to worry.’
‘Oh, Kevin … thank you, so much!’ She didn’t try to dissuade him, to say she would be alright on the train, because she was so relieved to hear his familiar friendly voice, and she realized how much he cared about her.
‘But you don’t know where I am; you’ve never been,’ she said feebly.
‘Don’t worry about that. I’ve got the address. I’ll find it. You go and pack a case, and it’ll be alright, you’ll see. You’ve got me, Debbie, and I’ll always be there for you … bye for now. See you soon.’
Rhoda had disappeared, and Debbie didn’t feel like telling her, just then, what had happened. She dashed back upstairs, and it was Karen who listened and comforted her as she broke down, unable to keep back her tears any longer.
It was Saturday evening, a time when most young people were out enjoying themselves, but her friends put aside their own plans and waited with her. It was around nine o’clock when Kevin arrived. Debbie dashed down the stairs when she heard the bell ring. She had never been more pleased to see anyone. There was Kevin, smiling at her with his eyes full of concern. He opened his arms and she fell into them. They stood on the doorstep for a few moments as he held her close to him, then he kissed her gently. She was still fearing the worst, and she had to know.
‘My mum and dad?’ she said in a whisper. ‘They’re not …?’ She couldn’t say the word.
‘No, they’re alive,’ said Kevin. ‘I waited until I had some news before I set off. Your father had a heart attack at the wheel. He’s still unconscious, but he’s having the best possible care. Your mother was quite badly injured, and she’s in a state of shock. But she’ll pull through. You must believe, Debbie, that they’ll both get well again.’
The other girls had not met Kevin before and they made a great fuss of him. Karen put the kettle on and Lisa made him some ham sandwiches. Fran talked to him about his garden centre, all of them trying to bring a feeling of normality to the situation. Debbie wanted to set off to Northumberland straight away, and Kevin would have done so; but the others persuaded her that he needed a rest after driving for such a long time. They would make up a bed for him on the settee, then they could set off in the morning when they had had a night’s sleep.
Debbie could not rest, though, until she had rung the hospital in Whitesands Bay. She was informed, as a close family member, that Mr Hargreaves was ‘critical but stable’, and Mrs Hargreaves was ‘fairly comfortable’, which was the usual answer; but she was satisfied that the situation had not worsened.
‘I don’t know when I’ll be back,’ Debbie told her friends the following morning, as Kevin put her case into the boot of the car. She hugged them all, promising to let them know the news about her parents. ‘Tell them at college about what is happening, and I’ll write
and explain,’ she said. She smiled sadly at them as they stood waving as the car drove away.
‘They’re such lovely friends,’ she remarked. ‘I’ve been so lucky with my flatmates.’
‘Yes; they’re grand girls, all of them,’ Kevin agreed.
‘I don’t think I’ll be coming back,’ she said. ‘It’ll be exam time in a few weeks from now, and I doubt that I’ll be there.’ She gave a deep sigh. ‘But what does it matter? My mum and dad are more important than exams or anything. I’ve got to be with them, Kevin.’
‘And you will be, very soon,’ he assured her. ‘Try to relax, Debbie, and try not to worry. They’re in good hands.’
They didn’t talk much on the journey up north. Debbie felt safe, and as hopeful as it was possible to be, because Kevin was with her. They broke their journey near Durham, where they had a quick meal of egg and chips at a roadside café. She understood that Kevin needed a break from driving.
‘I must learn to drive, sometime,’ she said, as they set off again.
‘We have all the time in the world, pet,’ he told her, reaching over and squeezing her hand. She smiled at him, certain now that Kevin would be an important part of her future.
They drove straight to the hospital. It was visiting time in the afternoon, although they would, no doubt, have been admitted anyway.
The doctor told Debbie that her father had had a heart attack while driving, which had caused the accident but, fortunately, he had no broken limbs. He had not regained consciousness, and was in a private room being closely monitored. She gathered that his heart attack had not been a massive one, which might have killed him. It was rather less severe, but his condition had been worsened with the shock of the crash. However, he was clinging on to life. She had been allowed a glimpse of him, pale and motionless, with an oxygen mask covering the lower part of his face.
Her mother was in a ward with three other women. Her head was bandaged and her arm in a plaster cast. Debbie had been told that she had a broken arm, a few cracked ribs and cuts and bruises. She would need to stay in hospital for a while as she had suffered from concussion at the time of the accident and was still in shock. Her eyes were closed, but she opened them as Debbie came up to the bed and touched her hand.
‘Hello, Mum,’ she said quietly.
‘Oh … oh, Debbie!’ she cried in delight, trying to smile, although her face was badly bruised. ‘You’re here, and Kevin as well. How lovely!’ Her voice was faint, but her eyes were bright despite the dark bruises around them. ‘I knew you’d come …’ Her smile faded as she went on. ‘Your daddy is in a bad way, pet. They won’t tell me very much, but I know that he is.’
‘He’ll be OK, Mum,’ Debbie tried to reassure her. ‘He looks peaceful, and they’re taking great care of him. Just say a little prayer, and trust that he’ll get well again.’
They didn’t stay long that afternoon. Vera was trying bravely to talk, but her eyes kept closing and it was obvious that she was in pain and very tired.
‘I’ll come and see you again tomorrow,’ said Debbie, kissing her cheek. ‘Try not to worry, Mum. Just concentrate on getting better; you’re doing fine.’
She was anxious to get home and sort herself out. It would be the first time she had been alone, completely alone, with no one else in the house. As they drove away from the hospital Kevin tried to persuade her to go home with him. ‘My parents say that you can stay with us Debbie, until your mum comes out of hospital. They’re concerned about you being on your own.’
She shook her head. ‘No; I’m a big girl now, Kevin,’ she said, trying to sound light-hearted. ‘I’m OK, honestly. I must see to things at home, and I know that’s where I’ll have to stay. Mum will need me there when she comes home. She’s not too good, is she, Kevin?’ she asked a little fearfully.
‘No, not at the moment,’ he agreed, ‘but she’ll be much better in a day or two, you’ll see. I shall come and pick you up each day to take you to the hospital. Dad is insistent that I must take as much time off as I need.’
Again, Debbie did not demur. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly, ‘and to your parents as well. It was lucky – that’s not really the right word, but you know what I mean – fortunate that they were so near to your place when they had the accident. And that your customer came along and found them.’
‘Yes; Fate maybe, rather than luck,’ said Kevin. ‘Whatever it was, things could have turned out much worse.’ Kevin’s father had told him that it was the speedy attendance and the care of the ambulance men that had saved Stanley, in the nick of time. He had not told Debbie, however, that she had very nearly lost her father.
He carried her case into the hallway. ‘Now, are you sure you’ll be OK? Shall I stay with you for a while?’
Debbie assured him, despite an empty feeling inside her, that she would be fine.
‘I’ll call for you tomorrow afternoon, then. Try to keep hopeful and optimistic. They’ll let you know at once if there’s any change, you can be sure of that.’
He put his arms around her, holding her very close. ‘Bye for now, Debbie, love. see you soon.’ He kissed her tenderly and with a longing that she, too, felt deep inside her.
The house felt strange and empty. There were signs, though that her parents had expected to be back: her mother’s slippers by the hearth, her father’s newspaper on the chair where he always sat, and a few pots left draining in the kitchen. She found, to her surprise, that she was hungry, so she made a quick meal before unpacking her case. Her mother’s fridge and cupboards were always well stocked. There was boiled ham, lettuce and tomatoes in the fridge, fresh bread in the bin, and her mum’s home-made fruitcake and flapjack in the cake tin. She turned on the radio to combat the uncanny silence and heard the sound of a church congregation singing a hymn. Of course, it was Sunday. She had scarcely been aware of what day it was.
She resisted the temptation to ring the hospital. She did, however, ring her flatmates – via Rhoda – to tell them what was happening. She had been seized with the certainty as she unpacked her belongings that she would never be returning to college. Her mother would need her to be there when she came out of hospital; and her broken arm and other injuries would prevent Vera from caring for her husband as fully as she would wish to do.
All thoughts of the college course and the forthcoming exams had receded to the back of her mind. She was back at home now, and Debbie knew that it was where she was meant to be. A ray of hope that shone brightly on the uncertain path that lay ahead was that Kevin would be there with her. Whatever else might happen, she felt sure of that.
She also rang Simon and Fiona. Simon was at church taking the evening service, but Fiona was understandably distressed at her news. Her assurance of their loving thoughts and prayers meant a great deal to Debbie.
By the following afternoon Vera was a little brighter, not quite so tired, and eager to talk although she soon got out of breath. There was no change in Stanley’s condition, but at least he was no worse and his heartbeat had steadied.
Vera was still lying down, her head raised on two pillows. Unfortunately, her right arm was in plaster, so it was her left hand that she stretched out towards Debbie as she approached the bed.
‘Debbie, how lovely to see you, pet. And Kevin too.’ She managed a coy smile. ‘You two have made it up then, have you? I thought you’d fallen out.’
‘Just a little misunderstanding, Mrs Hargreaves,’ said Kevin. He and Debbie grinned at one another. ‘But we’re back together now, aren’t we, Debbie?’ The smile they exchanged spoke volumes.
‘I’m very glad.’ Vera nodded contentedly. ‘Come and sit down and tell me what’s going on.’
They passed on the good wishes of neighbours and friends, of Fiona and Simon, and Debbie’s flatmates.
‘And it’s your birthday on Thursday, pet,’ said Vera. ‘I hoped I’d be home by then, but somehow I don’t think I will.’
‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ said Debbie. ‘We’ll have a celebration
when you and Dad both get home.’
‘I was talking about it to your daddy that day,’ said Vera. ‘Your card’s all ready to be posted in the sideboard drawer, and a little present an’ all. I hope you’ll like it.’
‘I know I will, Mum, but I’ll wait till Thursday before I look at it.’
‘Eeh, your daddy and me, we were making such plans for the garden. We were on our way to Sunnyhill to get some plants. Petunias, Stanley said, and he was going to make a hanging basket with fuchsias. And I said inlaced begonias and marigolds … but it’ll have to wait, and I doubt that Stanley’ll be able to do it.’
Debbie and Kevin looked at one another. She knew that they were both having the same idea about the garden. They would choose the plants and she would put them in the garden. It would be a lovely surprise for them both, and it would give Debbie something to concentrate on in their absence.
‘You’re coming home with me,’ Kevin told her when the visiting time came to an end. ‘My parents insist that you come for a meal and stay as long as you like. You’ve nothing to rush back for, have you?’
Debbie was pleased to be going to Sunnyhill again. She had been happy working there part time when she was still at school, and she had always got on well with Arthur and Alice, Kevin’s parents. They were both working, Arthur in one of the greenhouses and Alice at her flower arrangements, but they downed tools to welcome her.
Alice hugged her. ‘We’re delighted to see you, Debbie. Sorry about your parents. What a shock that was, but we were glad we were so near and able to help.’
Arthur put a friendly arm round her. ‘Grand to see you, pet. Like old times, isn’t it? Do you fancy giving Alice a hand while you’re here. Flower arranging was always your forte, wasn’t it?’
Debbie was happy to watch Mrs Hill at work again, and she helped by cutting off the long stems and trimming the superfluous leaves. Kevin’s mum had taught her a lot about shape and design, although Debbie worked on much larger projects now.
Old Friends, New Friends Page 27