She woke up in a sweat. It was after ten a.m. She was sorry that she’d insisted on Abby removing the catheter because she was desperate to pee and couldn’t face having to perch on a bedpan. She was sore and groggy and the image of Fiona wouldn’t fade. She briefly contemplated wetting herself – after all, she didn’t have a shred of dignity left. Once she’d pooped into a bedpan after taking an hour to do it, bearing down and gnashing her teeth while a nurse popped her head in and out of the thin piece of fabric that separated her from three women of a certain age who had decided to act as cheerleaders.
‘How we doing, chicken? Is the poop near the shoot yet?’ Anne had said.
‘Don’t think about it, just let it happen,’ Lindsay had added, in a moment of lucidity.
‘I’d love to have one,’ Beth had moaned. ‘I’m backed up to high heaven here.’
Now Eve pressed the call button and asked Abby for a bedpan.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘How’d you sleep?’
‘Awful.’
‘She was screaming again,’ Anne said to Abby.
‘The nightmares will pass,’ Abby said.
‘Maybe,’ Eve said.
Lily appeared in the doorway with the detective Eve had spoken to on the night of the accident. ‘Detective James,’ she said.
‘Close,’ he said. ‘James Hickey.’ He shook her functional hand.
Abby asked him to wait outside for a few minutes.
Lily waited with him. ‘She won’t be long,’ she said. He nodded. ‘She’s an old friend.’ He nodded. ‘Any news on the person who did it?’ she asked. He nodded. OK, I’m starting to see a pattern here. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Have you spoken to Ben’s wife?’ He nodded. Enough with the nodding, just answer the question, sunshine! ‘Does she know about Eve? Please do something other than nodding,’ she said. He looked at her and paused before he spoke, as though he was deciding whether to answer or tell her to mind her own business.
‘She knows he was walking along a dark road with a woman on the evening of the accident,’ he said.
‘Has she asked about Eve?’
He nodded.
Ah, come on! ‘And you’ve said?’ she pressed.
‘What I know,’ he said.
‘Which is?’ Lily said.
He smiled, admiring her tenacity. ‘Which is … nothing more than they were hit by a car with a drunk driver at approximately ten sixteen p.m. on the night of the first of July and that we have located and charged the man responsible.’
‘So Ben’s wife must have questions?’
‘I’m sure she does,’ he said.
Abby appeared in the hallway.
‘Do you have to inform Eve of Ben’s condition?’ Lily asked the detective.
‘Is there a reason to keep the truth from her?’
Lily shook her head. ‘She’s just been through a lot,’ she said.
‘You can go in,’ Abby said.
He nodded and smiled at Lily as he left her.
Eve was raised in her bed so that she could look the detective in the eye. She was experiencing a dull throbbing pain in her limbs, as though they were hollow and under a great weight, liable to snap at any second. It was bad but it wasn’t bad enough to press the button. Anyway, she’d noticed that the amounts of painkiller had been reduced. The relief wasn’t as strong but neither were the nausea and grogginess. She wanted to be alert while making her statement. She needed to make sure she did it right. I won’t let you down, Ben. Eve knew that the likelihood of Ben’s recovery was dwindling with each day that passed. She knew that if he lived he had a wife by his bedside ready and willing to love and care for her husband. She knew that if he died that woman would be the one to lead the mourners grieving for him. She knew that if his affair was discovered everything he and his wife had had together would be tainted. We didn’t want to hurt anyone. If he died Fiona would second-guess every word, deed and gesture, and he wouldn’t be there to explain. If I could do it all again. Fiona would be tortured and haunted. I won’t let that happen, Ben. She prepared herself to lie like she’d never lied before. I just have to stay as close to the truth as I can. Everything will be fine. She sipped her water because her lips and throat were dry and for some reason she felt scared she’d lose her voice. This has to be right.
The detective told her that they had found the man who had knocked her down. His name was Eamonn Colgan. He had fallen asleep while parked in his neighbour’s driveway. Her blood was all over the car and, remarkably, her description of the man had been a perfect match down to his Claddagh ring and his navy jumper. He claimed he remembered nothing of the accident, but with his alcohol levels, her blood evidence and testimony they would get a conviction. He asked her for a follow-up statement and she was ready. She told him that she and Ben Logan were very old friends. True. She said that actually he had been her first love. True. She said that they had reconnected on Facebook a couple of years ago. True. She said that when she came home to be with her dying father they had met for coffee. True. She said that his business was in trouble. True. He was keeping the failure of that business from his wife. True. And that she was trying to help with the business. True. She said that she had just sold her own successful and profitable business in the USA. True. That she had money to invest if the right opportunity came along. True. That on the night they were knocked down she had agreed to buy into Ben’s business. False. And that they were on their way to have dinner and celebrate their business arrangement. False. In fact, he was just about to call his wife to meet with his new partner and join in the celebration. False. Their relationship was strictly business. False. But she cared about him. True.
Although the detective was far more interested in confirming her recollection of what had happened after the car had struck her and verifying her astoundingly accurate account of the incident, he did remind her that she had described herself as Ben’s girlfriend on the night in question. Eve didn’t remember doing that and, although she was momentarily put on the back foot, she recovered quickly. She told him that at one point that night she had thought she was eighteen again. There were many fleeting moments of confusion. True. He did mention that she had originally identified him as Glenn Medeiros. Eve didn’t remember that either but it made her laugh, then cry.
‘I used to call him that when we were teenagers,’ she said.
‘After the singer?’ he said.
She nodded.
‘We were having a bit of the bet about that at the station,’ he said.
‘He had curls and dodgy dress sense back then,’ she said, and her eyes leaked again.
‘I understand,’ he said.
‘I can’t stop reliving that night,’ she said. True. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying,’ she said. Lie.
She gathered her thoughts together. It was important to maintain her performance. She imagined turning off a tap and the tears stopped flowing.
She asked him to make sure Ben’s wife saw her statement as soon as it was appropriate. She didn’t want her thinking anything untoward. Eve said she was conscious that the other woman’s life must be difficult enough without having to worry about who her husband was with that night. ‘I know what I’d be thinking if I was her,’ she said.
He nodded and agreed an affair was one possible conclusion. She didn’t know if he believed her story or not. It wasn’t pertinent to him making a case against a drunk driver so maybe he didn’t much mind. When he confirmed he would ensure that Fiona was given a copy of her statement, she asked as nonchalantly as she could how Ben was doing.
‘I’m afraid he’s not going to make it,’ he said.
‘Excuse me?’ she said. Although she’d thought his death was possible, the confirmation sent a shock through her body.
‘He was declared brain dead yesterday afternoon. The ventilator will be turned off tomorrow morning,’ he said.
She nodded slowly. ‘Oh,’ she said, fighting the urge to scream.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
He thanked her for her time. He told her he’d be back with any follow-up questions, if necessary, and either way he’d be in touch. He left her sitting up in her bed, staring at the thin curtain surrounding her. He’s gone. Tears collected. He’s gone. Her eyes, nose and ears burned. He’s gone. She blinked. He’s gone. Tears fell. He’s gone. Her nose ran. He’s gone. Her heart ached. He’s gone. Her stomach turned. He’s gone. She pulled the blanket over her head with her good arm, burying herself under it, grieving alone, in stifling darkness. She pushed the button that operated her bed until she was lying flat; she allowed her hidden tears to pour out unseen and silent. He’s gone.
Lily watched the detective walk down the corridor. He was in the lift before she left the nurses’ station and went into Eve’s ward. She walked over to the mummy lying in the bed, and when she saw the damp sheet over Eve’s face and heard her muffled cries she slipped her hand under the blanket and held her friend’s, as she had all those years ago on a sunny day in Eve’s back garden. When Eve finally stopped crying, Lily took her hand out from under the blankets and walked away to give her time to recover.
Lily was busy. It was one of those days when she didn’t seem to stop. It was four when she finally got to eat some lunch. Declan was just out of surgery so they grabbed something together. When she saw Ben’s wife and his mother staring into the middle distance with untouched cups of coffee in front of them, her heart raced and she lowered her head, afraid that if either woman focused they’d spot the nurse who used to know Ben and who called in to check on him at least twice a day. They had become acquainted with her face and they’d even spoken once or twice. Ben’s mother remembered Lily’s because she had cleaned the house of a friend of hers. She asked after her. Lily replied that she was fine and that she’d moved to the UK many years ago. Mrs Logan had burst into tears. ‘I think we’re losing him,’ she’d said, and she was right.
Ben Logan was all but lost. The decision to turn off the ventilator had been made soon after their conversation.
Lily worried for poor Fiona. Although Eve hadn’t said as much, Lily knew she was sleeping with Ben. She couldn’t bring herself to sympathize with Eve’s pain the way she could have if he hadn’t been married. She knew she was being judgemental, pious and puritanical but she couldn’t help it. Ben’s wife was about to lose her husband and, when he was in the ground, it was likely she’d discover his affair and he’d die all over again. Lily knew how that felt, wondering how and why and what she could or should have done to change something she had no control over. Poor Fiona. Every time she saw her weary face she felt worse for her. Eve had always done exactly what Eve wanted to do, and to Hell with what anyone thought, and this woman was about to pay the price. Of course she pitied Eve too, but she wanted to avoid any conversation about Ben because it would be hard to sympathize without seeing Fiona’s face in her mind’s eye. Lily kept her head down but she didn’t need to worry – Fiona didn’t see past the middle distance.
Declan was looking forward to the dinner party they were due to attend and that Lily had forgotten about. She had nothing to wear, she was tired and Alice Gibson, the host, had made her feelings about Lily very clear from the first time they had met. As far as Professor Alice Gibson was concerned, Lily was beneath her. She was a pretty little thing who bounced around the hospital in pink. Alice was an academic. She was not ugly but she was built like her blocky father; she carried a few extra pounds around her waist and she battled with a hairy chin. She didn’t have time for small-talk or jokes or raising men’s egos by laughing at the stupid comments they made after a few drinks. Alice Gibson was a serious woman, highly intelligent, and although she was fascinating when she was lecturing, she was a dreadful bore socially. When Lily revealed her own intellect to be more than Alice’s match, Alice’s indifference had turned into jealousy. She was a poor host, never failing to be rude.
‘I really don’t want to go,’ Lily admitted, while picking at a wilted salad.
‘We can’t cancel on the day – it’s rude.’
‘That’s rich,’ Lily said.
Declan laughed. ‘Alice did not spill wine on you on purpose.’
‘Yes, she did. She’s also stood on my toe twice, turned her back on me and excluded me from conversation at nearly every chance she’s had.’
‘She’s just not socially gracious.’
‘She’s a bitch.’
‘She’s Rodney’s wife and Rodney is my good friend so we’re going and we’re going to have a good time,’ he said playfully.
Lily knew he was laying down the law.
‘Fudge cake,’ she said.
‘And you should wear that gold bangle I bought you,’ he said.
‘I hope you don’t mind if that’s all I wear.’ She sighed.
Alice would be dressed in something that would no doubt look dowdy and fuddy-duddy but it would be expensive. She tried to think of her limited wardrobe and what Alice hadn’t seen before but couldn’t come up with anything. Bugger-balls. She didn’t have the money or time to shop so she decided to wear a simple red dress she’d worn countless times before. She didn’t doubt that it would make Alice’s night. She’d already commented on the fact that Lily seemed too attached to it, but Lily felt comfortable in it, it suited her and, importantly, it was clean.
She left Declan still eating and headed back to her ward. On the way she bumped into Adam. ‘Have you been roped in to this dinner tonight?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. You?’
‘She emailed to tell me she’s sitting me beside Tracey Barber.’
‘Who’s Tracey Barber?’
‘Apparently she’s a political analyst and I’m going to love her,’ he said.
She laughed. ‘Well, if she’s anything like Alice she’ll be a real keeper.’
He chuckled. Adam had about as much time for Alice’s pomposity as Lily did.
‘I wonder what insult or injury she’s lined up for me,’ she said.
‘We can only wait and see.’
‘At least we have each other,’ she said, and when he blushed, she pretended not to notice. Whatever you’re thinking, Adam, get over it. Please.
Declan wouldn’t be working over the weekend so he was looking forward to relaxing and having a few drinks. Lily could only hope that he’d fall asleep before saying or doing anything to embarrass her.
Clooney spent the day trying to raise his sister’s spirits but it wasn’t an easy task. It didn’t help when he’d mentioned that he’d bumped into Paul and that the gang were planning to visit. She started to cry.
‘I thought you’d be happy,’ he said, confused.
‘I’m exhausted, in agony, my bloody legs are broken and my shoulder is a mass of metal. My head hurts, my bloody eyes burn. Ben is … No, Clooney, I’m not happy.’
‘Two bloodys in one sentence. That’s serious. I’m sorry.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s nice of them.’
‘What can I do?’
‘Bring Ben back to life.’
‘I wish I could.’
‘Not as much as I do.’
Lily appeared with the medicine trolley. She came to Eve last. ‘Time for your heparin injection,’ she said.
Eve had to have one every day – it was the only medication not administered through the cannula and it stung like a bee. Clooney looked away. He’d always hated injections. Lily rubbed the spot with an alcohol swab. ‘Over.’
Just as she said that Fiona Logan walked through the door. Lily’s heart nearly stopped. Oh, fudging fudge cake. She looked from Fiona to Eve. She seemed relaxed. Shit, does she know who she is?
Fiona approached the bed. ‘Eve?’
‘Fiona,’ Eve said, and smiled.
Lily didn’t know where to put herself. What the hell …
‘Lily,’ Fiona said.
Lily waved. Did I
just wave?
‘This is my brother Clooney,’ Eve said, and Clooney stood up.
Fiona put out her hand to shake his. ‘Hi, I’m Fiona Logan.’
‘Ben’s wife?’ he said, suddenly catching on.
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Oh, right,’ he said, and clearly he was as uncomfortable as Lily, but Eve remained calm and cool.
Oh God, oh God, oh God, Lily thought. Eve, be nice, be cool. I need to sit down. No, I need to get out of here. Oh God, I need to pee. Oh Christ, please don’t break her.
‘Please sit down,’ Eve said, indicating the chair her brother had just vacated.
Fiona sat. ‘I’m sorry it took me so long to come here,’ she said.
‘I understand,’ Eve said.
Have I just walked into an alternative universe? Lily thought. Clooney was silent and watching. Lily didn’t know whether to stay or leave. She put the needle into a sharps bin and fixed the blankets on Eve. She eyed the blood-pressure pump. Maybe I should go and come back.
‘I saw your statement,’ Fiona said.
‘Good,’ Eve said. ‘I was anxious you should know exactly what happened and how.’
‘I appreciate that,’ Fiona said, tears welling. ‘I had wondered why he was there. I was thinking all sorts. I feel stupid now.’
The Space Between Us Page 16