The One

by Maria Realf

  ‘Thank you.’ Wriggling out of the back seat, she ran across the car park towards the main entrance, her shimmering white train skimming over the dusty concrete. She burst through the automatic doors and grabbed the nearest nurse she could find. The woman looked at her like she’d just escaped from the psychiatric ward.

  ‘Er, can I help you?’

  ‘Yes, I’m trying to find Alex Jackson,’ said Lizzie frantically. ‘He was brought in here yesterday, and he just had a big operation, and I need to see him …’

  ‘OK, take a breath,’ said the nurse. ‘Let me check with our receptionist.’ She went over to the main desk and a short, grey-haired lady typed something into the computer. Lizzie looked around the nearby waiting area, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that everyone was staring at her. A little girl with a cast on one arm tugged at her mother’s jacket with the other. ‘Look Mummy, a princess,’ she said loudly, her mouth hanging open in awe.

  Lizzie was relieved when the nurse came back. ‘OK, I’ve found Mr Jackson. He’s in the red wing, ward D, in one of the intensive care bays. Take the lift to the third floor, turn right and then just follow the signs.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Lizzie. She raced over to the row of lifts and hit all the buttons pointing upwards. The one on the far right arrived first, though its occupants then seemed to take an eternity to get out, doing a double take as they spotted her. Hasn’t anyone ever seen a bride before? Finally, she was able to get inside and select the third floor, her heart thumping as the metal doors slid shut.

  Please be alive. Please be alive. Please be alive.

  When the lift finally reached its destination, Lizzie shot out of the doors and turned right, almost knocking over a porter wheeling an empty bed.

  ‘Hey,’ he yelled. ‘This is a hospital!’

  ‘Sorry,’ she called, without looking back or slowing down, her twinkling train still trailing behind her as she sprinted past wards A, B and C.

  But as she got closer to D, she suddenly felt a strong dose of fear in her bones. What if I’m too late? What if, when he needed me, I wasn’t there? Her questions hung heavily in the air, threatening to come crashing down around the eerily quiet ward.

  Before she could have a total meltdown, one of the nurses approached her. ‘Hello, are you lost?’ she said, clocking Lizzie’s attire but politely not commenting on it.

  ‘No, hopefully I’m in the right place,’ she replied. ‘I’m looking for Alex, Alex Jackson.’

  ‘Ah,’ said the sister, pulling the kind of face that medics pulled on Casualty when they were about to deliver bad news. ‘Are you a relative?’

  ‘Not quite,’ said Lizzie, her voice shaking. ‘But I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t urgent.’ She gestured to her wedding dress, and the nurse nodded sympathetically.

  ‘Look, why don’t you take a seat for a moment?’

  Lizzie burst into tears. ‘No … oh, no … he’s gone, isn’t he? I didn’t even get to say goodbye!’ The sound of her loud wails echoed around the sterile corridor.

  ‘No, he’s not dead.’ The nurse put a sympathetic arm around her and steered her towards some uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs. ‘But he is very ill, and he’s currently in a coma. We don’t want him to be overcrowded, so we’re limiting visitors, and it’s usually close family only. I’ll need to check with his parents first to see if they’re willing to make an exception for …’

  ‘For however long it takes!’ she said adamantly.

  ‘No, I meant for you. What’s your name?’

  ‘Oh. Lizzie. Lizzie Sparkes.’

  ‘OK, Lizzie. I’m Jenny. You stay here for a minute while I have a word with his mum and dad, and I’ll be right back.’

  ‘Alright.’ Lizzie nodded, retrieving the sole tissue from her sparkly clutch and blowing her nose loudly.

  Jenny disappeared into a side room, and Lizzie surveyed the ward. There was row after row of curtains, giving each patient a modicum of privacy from the person next to them, and a number of high-tech machines lined up against one wall, ready to leap into action in an emergency. There was a small vending machine by the nurses’ station providing some basic sustenance; no doubt the relatives of those in intensive care were too scared to make the long trek down to the main canteen, in case anything happened while they were off queuing for lunch. Don’t you die on me, Alex, Lizzie willed him. Don’t even think about it.

  A nurse pushed an elderly man in a wheelchair along the corridor, heading for the communal toilets. ‘Hello, Martha,’ he said. ‘You look beautiful, my love.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ said Lizzie.

  ‘I think you remind him of his late wife,’ the nurse explained quietly. ‘She looked a lot like you – especially dressed like that. He’s been showing me photos of their wedding day.’

  ‘I won’t be long,’ said the man. ‘I’ll see you at the church!’

  ‘OK,’ said Lizzie, and blew him a friendly kiss. Some people do find their soulmate, she thought. I just always thought I’d grow old with mine.

  Just then, Alex’s parents stepped out into the corridor. Though it had been little more than a decade since she last saw them, they looked about 20 years older; their faces worn with tragedy. But she recognised them instantly, as they did her.

  ‘Oh, Lizzie, would you look at you,’ said Mrs Jackson, her hands flying up to her cheeks. ‘Andi told us you were getting married today, but we certainly weren’t expecting you to rush straight over afterwards.’ She looked down the corridor. ‘Where’s your husband?’

  ‘I don’t have one,’ said Lizzie, wringing her hands. Mrs Jackson looked bewildered. ‘I … well … I couldn’t go through with the wedding. Not once I knew what was happening here.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that! I know Andi would never have bothered you today if she’d known.’

  ‘No, I’m glad she called me. It made me realise I was making a mistake.’

  ‘I see.’ Mrs Jackson’s eyes were red and puffy, but the kindness in them remained. ‘Why don’t you go in and see Alex? He’s not awake at the moment, but the doctors think he might still be able to hear us, so it’s good to keep talking to him. We’ll sit out here for a bit so just call if you need us.’

  ‘OK.’ Lizzie stepped into the cubicle, afraid of what she would find when she drew back the curtain. Alex was always so spirited that she couldn’t possibly picture him in a coma, and she knew it would destroy her to see him in any kind of pain. Her hand shook as she peeled back the flimsy fabric and saw him lying on the bed for the first time. But to her surprise he looked more peaceful than she was expecting, as though he was simply in a deep sleep.

  ‘Hey there, stranger.’

  Lizzie spun round in the direction of the voice and found herself facing Andi, who had got up from an armchair in the corner. She was paler and thinner, and her once blonde hair was now a mousy brown, but the family resemblance was still clear.

  ‘Andi! I didn’t see you. I’m so sorry to hear about Alex.’

  ‘Why aren’t you at your wedding?’ Andi’s face flushed bright red. ‘Is it because of me? I shouldn’t have called you.’

  ‘No, I’m here because I was getting married to the wrong person,’ she said. ‘You did me a favour. Thank you.’

  Andi’s curiosity got the better of her. ‘So are you, like, the runaway bride?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  ‘How did that go down with everyone?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know. They’re still there and I’m here. I don’t imagine they’ll be best pleased, though. I’ll probably have to spend the next 100 years paying my dad back for the reception.’

  Andi gave her a hug. ‘I bet Alex would like to hear about it. Why don’t you talk to him for a bit while I grab something to eat? I could murder a Mars Bar.’

  Lizzie suspected she wasn’t hungry at all, but was just trying to give her some space. ‘Sure, I can talk to him for a while,’ she said. ‘How did his surgery go?’

  ‘Hard t
o tell,’ she sighed. ‘The doctors seemed to think it went well, under the circumstances. They managed to remove a large chunk of the tumour that was pressing on his brain. Not all of it, but enough that it should give him more time. Only now he’s not waking up and no one seems to know why. It’s almost like he just lost the will to live.’

  Lizzie shook her head. ‘Alex will pull through. He’s a fighter.’

  ‘Yeah, I used to think so,’ said Andi quietly. ‘But he’s been different these past couple of weeks, you know. Distant. And sad.’

  ‘He’s been through so much,’ said Lizzie. ‘But he can’t give up now. Who knows what new treatments might be around the corner?’

  ‘I really hope you’re right,’ said Andi. ‘Maybe you should tell him that while I go and check on the folks.’ She bent down and kissed Alex gently on the forehead. ‘Don’t go anywhere, bro. I love you. I’ll be right outside.’

  As she left the room, closing the curtain behind her, Lizzie moved closer to Alex. His face was pale, but still handsome; his breathing shallow but audible. If it wasn’t for the bandage wrapped tightly around his head, and the IV feeding into his arm, she could have sworn he was taking an afternoon nap.

  ‘So it’s just you and me now,’ she whispered, holding his right hand, which was cold to the touch. ‘You need to wake up soon, because there’s lots I need to tell you. I called off the wedding …’ She hesitated, glancing at him to see if there was any reaction. There wasn’t. ‘Of course, that was after I’d already fainted in my hotel room. I think as far as wedding days go, this one was about as crap as it gets. Josh won’t ever want to see me again, and I doubt my mum and dad are going to be speaking to me anytime soon, either. So you really need to get better, otherwise I’m not going to have anyone to talk to …’

  Still he didn’t move. ‘I’m really sorry if I wasn’t there for you enough after Connor died, and that I was so angry when you first came back. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I’ve realised how hard it must be to lose someone you love.’ She swallowed. ‘But I’m not ready to lose you yet, Alex, I’m really not. I don’t know how much longer we’ve got, but I promise you we’re going to spend that time together. I just need you to come back to me. Please. I love you so much.’

  She was crying again now, fat teardrops rolling down her face and on to his hand. ‘I’m not supposed to be making you soggy,’ she said, grabbing a tissue from a box on the bedside table and dabbing his skin dry. She was just about to throw it in the bin when she thought she saw the tiniest flicker of movement in his index finger. Is that a reflex? Or did he just respond?

  ‘Alex, it’s me, Lizzie. Can you hear me? If you can, please try to move your finger again.’ She looked down at his hand, but it was still. ‘Alex, you can do this. I need you to wake up so we can be together, like we were meant to be.’ This time, his finger twitched, causing her to jump up so fast she almost fell over the chair.

  ‘Come quickly!’ she shouted, rushing out into the corridor and waving at his family.

  ‘What is it?’ said Mr Jackson, leaping to his feet. ‘What’s happened?’ Panic was written all over his face. ‘Do we need the nurse?’

  ‘I think he just moved,’ said Lizzie. ‘I was talking to him and holding his hand and he started to move his finger. I think he can hear me!’

  All four of them piled back into the cubicle and looked at Alex expectantly. He lay there, still as a statue again, but Lizzie wasn’t ready to give up that easily.

  ‘Alex, it’s Lizzie, and your family. I know you can hear me now.’ She took his cold hand in hers. ‘Can you squeeze my hand, please?’ Nothing. ‘Can you move your finger?’ There was a long pause, and then suddenly his finger jerked. ‘See! Did you see that?’

  ‘Yes, I saw it!’ shouted Mrs Jackson. ‘Alex, darling, it’s Mum. We’re all waiting for you to give us a smile.’ She gestured frantically at Lizzie on the other side of the bed. ‘You try again, Lizzie. He seems to be responding to you.’

  ‘Alex, we’re all here for you when you’re ready to wake up,’ she said. ‘Your family love you, and I love you, and I need you to open those eyes for me so I can tell you to your face.’

  She perched on the edge of his bed, the bright white of her wedding dress merging with the sterile white of the hospital linen. Lowering her face down close to his, she whispered, ‘Alex, will you marry me?’

  There was a long silence, and then his eyelids fluttered and closed again, before they settled in a half-open state. He stared straight at Lizzie in all of her ethereal attire.

  ‘Am I dead?’ he said at last.

  Lizzie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘No, you’re not,’ she said eventually, her voice cracking. ‘You’re very much alive, and you have to promise me you’ll stay that way for as long as possible.’

  ‘I’ll try.’ He looked at her outfit again. ‘Am I too late?’

  ‘Too late for what?’

  His voice was thin and hoarse. ‘To stop the wedding.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, you are – because I already stopped the wedding.’

  ‘Really?’ The corners of his mouth crept up into a smile.

  ‘Yes, really.’ Lizzie leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips, as the Jacksons all hugged one another tightly. ‘But you have to promise to hurry up and get out of this hospital, because I’m expecting my second wedding to be better.’

  ‘OK. I will.’

  ‘Actually, it’s “I do”,’ she smiled. ‘But we can work on that.’

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  Lizzie lay on a lounger beneath a straw parasol, gazing out at the azure waves and the tall rock formations rising majestically from the water. This place is incredible. I can see why he loved it here. She had promised Alex that if anything happened to him, she would get a plane to Thailand and tell his friends there the news in person. ‘You don’t need to do that,’ he’d said. ‘Just call them. You’ll hate the long flight.’ But after everything they had been through, she was determined to do this one last thing for him. ‘No, it’s OK,’ she said. ‘I’m sick of being scared. I want to meet them for myself.’ Alex had relented then, seeming pleased about that. ‘Well, it’s so beautiful there, I think the trip would do you good. You can’t stay sad for long when you’re staring out over the ocean.’

  I won’t be sad for ever, I swear, she promised silently, knowing that had been his biggest fear. But it’s hard right now. I just miss you so much.

  The flight had not been easy, with her stomach churning and her throat tightening at the slightest turbulence. But every time she felt afraid, she closed her eyes and could almost feel Alex placing a protective arm around her shoulders, the way he used to do whenever she felt frightened about the future. ‘I can’t imagine life without you,’ she told him once, tearfully. ‘Well, you’d better start imagining a great one,’ he’d replied. ‘Because you’re going to have to live for both of us, so you can’t screw it up.’

  I’ll try my best. It seemed more important than ever now to do something with her life, something that would have made her husband really proud. Husband. The word still sounded funny sometimes in her head. It had taken her a year to get used to calling him that, and then, just a few short months after she’d started getting the hang of it, she suddenly didn’t need to any more. She was a wife without a husband, like a knife without a fork, or a night without day. It felt like the earth should have stopped, yet somehow it kept turning, whether or not she wanted to come along for the ride.

  But she had no regrets about marrying him, not even for a second. And I never will. Their spring wedding had been perfect. They had both wanted to avoid a big bash – much to her dad’s relief – and instead sealed the deal with a quiet register office ceremony in front of just their parents, Andi, Sam and Megan. Lizzie wore a pretty cream sundress from Reiss, and Alex wore a pale blue linen suit that brought out the colour of his eyes. ‘I could be your something blue,’ he’d joked when he tr
ied it on.

  After the ceremony, the nine of them celebrated at a charming little inn on the coast, where they sat outdoors and enjoyed a three-course feast under the stars, washed down with plenty of bubbly. Alex wasn’t meant to be drinking alcohol in case it interfered with his medication, but he insisted on having a couple of glasses anyway, which went straight to his shaved head. An hour later, he was chuckling away like a naughty schoolboy who’d spiked the punch at the disco.

  ‘Are you drunk already?’ asked Lizzie.

  ‘No, my good wife, I am 100 per cent sober,’ he replied, almost falling off his chair. ‘Well, maybe 90 per cent. But who’s counting?’

  As she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but happiness; there was no thought today of anything that might spoil the moment. He was here, he was alive, and he was hers.

  ‘Should I make a toast?’ said her dad, clinking on the side of his glass with his dessert spoon.

  ‘Yay, speech! Speech!’ cried Megan, who had quaffed even more champagne than usual and was in high spirits.

  ‘Well, I’ll keep this short …’ he said.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ heckled Lizzie.

  ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I’d just like to thank you all for being here today to see these two tie the knot. Now I’m sure it’s no secret that this isn’t the first time I’ve walked Elizabeth down the aisle—’

  ‘Dad!’ she yelped, mortified.

  ‘—but it is the first time she’s gone through with the wedding. And seeing the love between her and Alex today, I think we all know that she made the right decision.’

  ‘Does that mean I don’t have to pay you back that ten grand?’ Lizzie muttered. Once again, Mr Sparkes pretended not to hear.

  ‘But a wedding is more than a union between two people – it’s also a union between two families,’ he continued. ‘And nothing makes me happier than to welcome Frank and Pamela and Andi into ours. We are all joined together now, and I for one couldn’t be more thrilled. So let’s raise a glass’ – to which the group dutifully obliged – ‘to the bride and groom, and to family.’