Critical Condition

by Nicki Edwards

  At the picture Liam was painting, tears formed in Poppy’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Poppy.” He reached for her hand and squeezed, and she returned the touch, reluctant to let go.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t begin to imagine how tough that would have been for you. For everyone.”

  “Really tough.”

  “What happened once you got to the hospital?”

  “His BP was barely recordable and his heart rate was one-twenty.”

  She winced. “Not enough circulating blood volume.”

  Liam shifted position. “No. He was bleeding out from somewhere.”

  “What did they do?”

  “Blood transfusion. But it was useless. His BP was less than sixty. They did an ultrasound of his chest and it showed bleeding into the abdominal cavity as well as around the pericardium. Heart function was compromised because of the pressure on the heart caused by the bleeding.”

  Poppy nodded. “The blood would have pooled around his heart and the pressure would have squashed the chambers meaning they weren’t able to pump.” She let out a small sigh. “I’m glad you’re giving me the full picture. Did they open his chest?”

  “Yeah. In resus. They didn’t even have time to take him up to theater. The pericardium was bulging with blood and once they opened it up his blood pressure shot to one-fifty. They sutured a lac to the front of the left ventricle but when his heart started to beat again, blood went everywhere.”

  “Torn aorta.”

  Liam nodded. “I’m really sorry, Poppy. He was never going to survive.”

  “I doubt it was just his heart either.”

  “No, it wasn’t. He had other injuries from the trauma. Multiple fractures, ruptured spleen …”

  She sighed heavily. “I’m sure you did everything you could. Thank you.” She squeezed his hand again before releasing his fingers. “And thanks for telling me.”

  She opened her door and the cold wind wrapped around her legs. Liam got out and handed her suitcase to her.

  “Will you be right with that?”

  She nodded. “Yes, thanks. I’ll be fine. I really appreciated you picking me up from the airport.”

  “Too easy. That’s what friends do.”

  “Yeah, well thanks. And thanks for dinner too,” she stammered.

  “My pleasure. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten.”

  “Don’t be late.”

  Chapter 14

  Liam was late. And extremely apologetic. After five “I’m sorries” in the space of five minutes, Poppy told him to forget it. Luckily he found a park close to the church and they didn’t have to walk a long distance. However, his delay meant she was acutely aware of hundreds of pairs of eyes on her as she walked down the long aisle to take her seat near the front. Liam stuck to her side like glue and she was thankful for his presence. They found seats at the end of a pew and she adjusted her coat around her legs to keep her warm.

  In the carpeted chancel of St Mary’s Cathedral, her father’s flower-covered timber casket took center stage. No organ played. No one spoke. The only sound was the occasional rustle of paper as the ushers passed out the printed order of service booklets or the sound of someone moving sideways in the pew to make room for another person.

  The church was packed. All the State police forces were represented, as were NSW Ambulance and Fire and Rescue services. Even the Premier attended, blending in among the thousand mourners.

  Poppy shivered and Liam edged closer, the body heat coming through the fabric of his suit providing much needed comfort and warmth. She reached for his hand and drew strength from the physical touch. He rested their clasped fingers on his thigh and she had to make a conscious effort to keep her breathing normal.

  She’d barely slept the night before in the motel, the cogs in her brain turning continually. Apart from worrying about how she would handle the funeral, she couldn’t stop thinking about Liam.

  In another lifetime, he would have been the type of guy she’d be interested in. Apart from his good looks, he had a sharp wit, and went from sarcastic to sweet – often in the space of sixty seconds – which she found equally exasperating and endearing. He’d angered her briefly with his comments at dinner the night before, but in hindsight she could tell he meant no harm and his apology had been sincere.

  And there was truth to what he’d said – she did have unresolved issues with her father. Right now though, he was playing the role of supportive friend, as he’d offered, and she was grateful he didn’t seem to be angling for anything more than that.

  Two police drummers began to play, interrupting the direction of her thoughts. The drum roll from one punctuated the single haunting beats from the other drum. Poppy shuddered as chills raced up and down her spine.

  Finally the drumming stopped and the formal service commenced. After the opening prayers and a hymn, Liam’s dad, Sean, took his place at the lectern.

  He coughed softly. “It’s never easy to say good-bye to someone who means so much to so many of us.”

  His words caused another shiver to ripple through Poppy’s body.

  “The New South Wales police force has lost a respected and much loved member of its family,” he continued.

  Sean looked sadly down at the woman in the front row. Poppy could only see the back of her head now, but she’d watched Jenni McDonald walk in. Tall and slim, she was an elegant woman. She wore her dark hair in a pixie style which showed off a long neck encircled by a single thick strand of pearls. In each earlobe were matching pearls. She sat tall in the front pew, flanked on either side by her sons, Poppy’s stepbrothers.

  “Bill was a devoted husband to Jenni. A loving father to Hamish and Isaac …”

  Sean paused and Poppy held her breath. Surely he wasn’t going to mention her. He stared right at her and Poppy felt her skin flush.

  “… and also to Poppy.”

  Did she imagine the small ripple that went through the church? In front of Poppy, neither Jenni nor the boys moved.

  “I can’t describe the devastation inside the Birrangulla headquarters and right across the New South Wales police force. We have lost a gentle friend. A gentle man in the truest sense of the word. A man, the manner of whose death we will not forget. Rest in peace William Edward McDonald. Macca. My mate.”

  When it was time for the eulogy, Hamish and Isaac stood together at the pulpit. Their brand new suits still had fresh creases in all the right places. They reminded Poppy of Princes William and Harry at their mother’s funeral, their faces etched with real and raw pain. Hamish was tall and dark like his mother, Isaac was fairer and had a smattering of freckles and strawberry blond hair. She imagined in some lights it would look red. Of the two brothers, he looked the most upset. Pale and sickly with dark rings under his eyes.

  “Dad believed in spending quality time with us,” Hamish said. “During dinner time, the television had to be turned off, our phones put away. We always discussed our day, what we had done at school, what we were thinking about, the things we wanted to do the next day. We play a game called ‘High-Low’ every night. Dad made us give one ‘high’ and one ‘low’ each day. He said it was to make us think.”

  Isaac continued, reading from the page in front of him. “At the time it used to annoy us that he wanted to spend so much time with us, but through this game he has set for us an example of what it means to be a family.”

  “Dad was a romantic,” Hamish continued. “He cherished our mum. There was no one he cared for and loved more.” His voice broke and he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

  Isaac took over, leaning toward his older brother. It was evident they were close. “When we were going through his things, we found the first gift Mum ever gave him. We never knew he was such a romantic.”

  Poppy couldn’t concentrate. She tried to reconcile the man her stepbrothers were describing with the man her mother had described. The two didn’t match. Not even close.

  For the remainder of the service
Poppy sat in a daze. When it ended, eight pallbearers stepped forward and carried the casket slowly and cautiously down the aisle and down the sandstone steps. The pallbearers included six members of the police force, including Sean, and Hamish and Isaac. An older man and woman, presumably Jenni’s parents, supported her on each arm. In one emotion-charged moment it looked like Jenni was about to crumble, but she drew her shoulders back and held her poise as she kept her eyes forward and followed the procession out of the church.

  After she’d walked past where Poppy sat, not even glancing left or right, Liam nudged Poppy gently. “I’ll walk out with you if you like,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “I’ll wait until everyone has gone.”

  “You can’t. You’re family. You need to follow them.”

  Poppy swallowed the lump in her throat and stood, rearranging her coat, wrapping it tighter around her waist. She was painfully aware of her height and her hair making her stand out in a sea of black and brown and gray.

  Outside, a guard of honor lined both sides of the steps made up of officers including the Commissioner of Police and Deputy Commissioners. Then, on Sean’s word, the men and women saluted, holding it for minutes as the casket passed.

  Jenni made it to the bottom of the steps and stood watching the casket as it was placed in the hearse. At that point she bowed her head as the tears flowed freely for everyone to see.

  Poppy’s own throat closed over as Hamish and Isaac went to her side and clung to her, offering and providing the support she needed. They managed brief smiles when the Commissioner spoke to them before turning back to their mother.

  Five motorcycle escort riders appeared and pulled into position in front of the hearse. The flowers were secured and the cortege began its slow procession to the cemetery.

  *

  The wake was held at Eagle’s Ridge Farm, an organic paddock-to-plate farm and café owned and operated by Liam’s brother, Joel. Sean and Liam insisted she attend.

  Poppy found herself standing next to Liam on the periphery of the gathered group of mourners. Liam force-fed her sandwiches she barely tasted. He’d promised to stand beside her and had done that for almost the entire day and she was indebted to him for his company. He’d said he’d be there for her as a friend, and he’d been true to his word. Like a cast to a broken limb, he’d fitted himself to her and done everything he could to cushion her pain.

  She hadn’t expected to find the funeral difficult, but it was excruciating. Like a fog rolling over the mountains it felt like a great sadness had permeated her soul and settled there. All she wanted to do was turn back time. If only she’d gotten in touch with her father. Made amends somehow. As soon as this day was over she vowed to open his letters and cards and read them, no matter how much pain and grief it caused.

  “I didn’t expect it would be this hard,” she said when Liam handed her a glass of orange juice and propelled her to a quieter part of the garden. “When he left, I pretended he’d died then, but this is ten times worse because it’s real.”

  “How old were you when he left?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “Must have been hard.”

  “It was unbelievably hard. The day he left, I lost my mother too.” She saw the look on Liam’s face and quickly explained. “Oh no, she didn’t die. When he left, my mother became—” Poppy searched for the word. “—fragile. She had a total breakdown and the doctors admitted her to a locked-down psychiatric facility. She was there for six weeks.”

  “And you were left alone?”

  She shook her head. “I stayed with a neighbor, which I hated. Her daughter went to the same school as me and bullied me relentlessly. At first I was thrilled when Mum came home, but she was a different person and she’s never been the same again. It was awful.”

  Liam’s eyes filled with sympathy and she almost lost it then. The lump formed in her throat making it difficult to swallow. She brushed at her lower lashes and wondered whether she had mascara smeared across her cheeks. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I’ve never told anyone.”

  “No one?”

  “Who could I tell? It was only my mother and me. Her parents were dead and she has two siblings she has nothing to do with. I don’t even know where they live.”

  “What about a teacher or someone? Or the neighbor?”

  “No one would have understood. And not long after she got home from hospital the neighbors moved house.” She let out a little snort. “At least the bullying stopped.”

  “You were only a teenager. How did you cope with all that?”

  “I had no choice. I grew up fast and learned how to look after myself from an early age. For the first couple of months after Dad left it was like living with a ghost. My mother slept during the day and at night she’d float around the house, not speaking, just staring into space. She was a shadow of the mother I knew and never got much better.”

  “You deserved more.”

  “You shouldn’t expect more from a person than they’re capable of giving. I learned that lesson early in life. I don’t expect anything from my mother. Never have. Never will.”

  Silence followed. Seconds ticked by.

  “Life’s not fair,” he said eventually.

  “No, it’s not. So you learn to deal with it,” she said. “And sometimes that means you have to work a little harder to keep everyone happy.”

  “Is she stable now?”

  “Saying my mother is stable is like saying the ocean isn’t full of salt. As far as I know, her moods are managed, but I haven’t seen her in five years so I really have no idea. To be honest I’m freaking out about seeing her again.”

  “When are you going to see her?”

  “I’m driving up to the Gold Coast on Sunday morning.”

  “And then?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll see how long I cope. I’ll stay a few days, maybe a week, then go further north. Noosa or maybe even the Whitsundays. I haven’t decided yet.”

  “What will you do after that?”

  “Fly home.”

  “Home?”

  “New York.”

  “Oh.”

  An awkward silence ensued and Poppy was relieved when Sean approached them.

  “Hello Poppy. Nice to finally meet you. Sorry it has to be under these circumstances.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek in greeting. “I’m sure it’s been a difficult day for you, love.”

  “It hasn’t been easy, no.”

  Liam gave her a quick sideways hug. “I’ll leave you two to chat.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t meet you at the airport yesterday,” Sean said.

  “No problem. Thanks for sending Liam.”

  “I see he’s been taking good care of you. He’s a good lad.”

  “Mmm. Yes, he’s been great. I needed a friend.”

  Sean led her to a pair of vacant chairs and waited for her to sit before he continued. “Your dad was proud of you, Poppy,” he said.

  It was a simple statement but it sucked the air from Poppy’s lungs.

  “Was he?”

  “Yes. Very proud. Used to talk about you all the time. So much so I felt like I already knew you.”

  “How did he know so much about me?” she asked.

  “He’s kept track of you all these years. It wasn’t difficult.”

  “He spied on me?”

  “Not technically. He told me your Facebook and Instagram accounts weren’t set to private and with a few enquiries it wasn’t hard to find you.”

  “Isn’t that against some police policy?” she asked.

  “He did what he thought was best.”

  “I never forgave him for leaving,” she said. “And now I regret that more than anything.”

  “Is that why you never contacted him?”

  She nodded and a tear trickled down one cheek. She brushed it away and licked her lips, tasting salt. “He wrote to me but I couldn’t bear to read the letters. It was easier to pretend he didn’t exist.”
<
br />   “What a shame. I’m sure reading his words might have helped you understand what he went through too.”

  “I still have them all.”

  Sean glanced at her in surprise.

  “I thought I might read them tonight actually. It seems like the right time.”

  Sean smiled and leaned over to gently squeeze her hand. “Good girl. I think your dad will be looking down at you and smiling.”

  “Did Jenni know about me?” she asked, changing the subject as tears threatened again.

  “Of course she knew. Bill and Jen had an amazing relationship. She always encouraged him to stay in touch, especially after the boys were born. That’s why he kept writing to you. He wanted you to know he cared. Jenni wanted him to call you and invite you to come and visit, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He said you looked like you were happy, healthy, and well-adjusted and he didn’t want to get in the way of your life.”

  If only he knew the truth.

  Tears flowed freely then and she accepted the starched handkerchief Sean pulled from his pocket.

  “He obviously loved her a lot,” she said, pointing to Jenni.

  She seemed to be holding together incredibly well, mingling with well-wishers. A sad smile was never far her lips, but not once had Poppy seen her break down and cry again.

  “Yeah. They were very much in love.”

  Poppy sighed softly. “You know, I came here expecting to hate him and hate her. I wanted to meet her and get her face ingrained in my brain so that whenever my life sucked, I’d remember to blame her for it.”

  “But?” Sean prompted.

  “But she’s not the cause of any of it.”

  “No, she’s not. Bill and Jenni didn’t meet for years after your dad left your mother.”

  “I know that.” Poppy exhaled again. “And she seems lovely. She came over and introduced herself after the burial. She’s lovely. And her sons seem like nice kids too.”