by Ber Carroll
Frankie must have noticed the second time but he wasn’t convinced the movement was intentional. ‘Maybe it’s normal for them to do that when they’re unconscious.’
‘Come on, Katie.’ Rose’s grip tightened on Katie’s hand. ‘Wake up, darling!’
Katie tried. She really tried.
Then she heard the door open and, from the sudden limpness in Rose’s hand, she knew that it was Liz who had come in.
Two sisters reuniting after forty-three years apart, and all Katie had to go on was sound: soft footsteps, the rustle of an embrace, heart-wrenching sobs. Not a word was uttered, but Katie knew that everything would be there on their faces if only she could see.
She tried again to open her eyes. She used every ounce of her willpower until she became exhausted from the sheer effort. The sobs faded to a point where she could no longer distinguish Rose from Liz. Then there was nothing at all.
This time the hand was a bony one and it had a slight quiver.
‘Your mother said I could come in even though I’m not family.’
It was Mags.
‘She said it would be good for you if I talked out loud. So, even though I feel like a bit of an eejit, I’m going to pretend that we’re at work and we’re chatting like normal – or at least how we used to chat before things became . . . strained . . .’
Katie heard a muffled sound. It seemed that Mags was crying into a handkerchief or tissue. She wanted to reach out, comfort her, but her arms could not lift of their own accord.
‘You see, Seamus and I broke up a few weeks ago . . . I was too upset to tell you so I let you believe that we had patched things up . . . Then, I suppose, the right time had well and truly passed and it got harder and harder to say it. The split wasn’t amicable, we’re not on talking terms. I’ve been so miserable about it all, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry, so sorry.’ Her bony hand clutched tighter. ‘Then I was so silly about Jim driving you down to Cork. I was jealous. Not for me, for Laura. She got the short straw, dying so young, missing out on so much. I didn’t want Jim to make new friends, I wanted to keep him intact for Laura so that she could still recognise him – silly of me – for heaven’s sake, he’s been in Australia these last two years and the life he lives there would be totally foreign to her.’
I forgot all about Jim. Does that mean he’s not important? Or is my brain only able to process one thing at a time? I never sent that message – I never said sorry to him. Does he know that I’m here? Did you tell him, Mags?
Mags didn’t answer the silent question. She changed the subject and started to talk about the clinic.
‘The Lord Mayor called in to see us. She’d heard about your accident, she was very concerned about you. And this man called Jerry came in. He said he was sorry for getting angry, he shouldn’t have shouted abuse at you – the drink brings out the demon in him. He claimed that he saw the accident, I don’t think he’s right in the head, though . . .’
Mags chattered on and on until her voice became a drone, quite similar to the sound emanating from the machines around Katie’s bed.
A loud voice boomed its way through Katie’s slumber. The hand that matched the voice was big and meaty. Stephen.
‘Hi, Katie. How are you doing, kiddo? Yes, I’m here too and we have a full family quorum in Dublin now. I couldn’t come with Mum and Dad – I had to put some arrangements in place to keep the wheels going round on the business. You know Dad, he thinks all his customers will disappear the very instant he turns his back.’
Katie was so happy to hear Stephen’s droll humour. She knew without trying that her eyes wouldn’t open so she concentrated her energy on her fingers.
He seemed to feel the movement. ‘Can you hear me, Katie?’
She did it again.
‘Good girl, Katie . . . Do you want to know what happened? What am I saying? This is Katie Horgan we have here – of course you want to know every little detail. Well, here are the facts and figures: it started with your dive in front of the fourwheel drive – I won’t ask what you were thinking – the driver was in a total state of shock – she fainted when she saw you underneath the vehicle – a passer-by, a homeless fellow, got you out . . .’
Jerry, Katie realised. I remember him holding my hand, telling me that he was sorry he had frightened me, that I would be okay, help was coming . . .
‘Your leg had multiple fractures. On the positive side, you were damned lucky that your chest and head didn’t go under the wheels. You were conscious when they brought you into accident and emergency, they put you under in order to operate on your fractures. You should have woken up after the operation but you didn’t. A CAT scan found a spot on your brain called a fat embolism, it’s a complication of traumatic long-bone fractures. According to both the surgeon and the internet – I’ve looked it up – we just need to wait until it dissolves. In another few days you should be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.’
As children, Stephen had taken his responsibilities as older brother very seriously. The first stop for Katie’s endless questions, he had never lost patience and always explained things in the appropriate level of detail for her age.
‘I’ll come back to you on that, kiddo,’ he’d say if he didn’t know the answer. Then he’d research it at the library or ask his teacher.
It was so typical of him to double-check the surgeon’s advice by looking on the internet. She wanted to thank him for that, and for all the other times he had been there with the answers to her questions. She willed her fingers to move again.
He grasped them tight. ‘Good girl, Katie.’
When the time was right, Katie’s eyes opened easily and there was no evidence at all of the glue that had kept them so firmly shut. It was night-time, the only light in the room stolen from the corridor outside. Her eyes moved slowly in a clockwise direction. To the left, the door. Straight ahead, her broken leg stretched rigid. Next was the jagged outline of a flower arrangement on the table in front of the curtained window. And there, immediately to her right, was Rose, asleep in the armchair.
‘Mum?’ Her voice was nothing more than a breath.
‘Mum?’ Now it was stronger, a croak.
To her amazement, Rose heard and her eyes flew open.
‘Katie?’
‘Mum,’ she repeated, overjoyed that her voice was working.
Rose staggered up from the armchair. ‘Oh, darling!’ Her cold hands cupped Katie’s face. ‘Are you in pain?’
Katie shook her head. There was no pain.
‘I thought I’d lost you . . . I love you so much . . . I don’t tell you that often enough.’
‘Me too,’ Katie rasped, her dry lips stretching to a smile.
Rose’s hands left Katie’s face and pressed together. She lowered her head. ‘Dear God, thank you for giving her back to me . . . I’ll try to make good my sins . . . thank you, thank you . . .’
Katie, befuddled, watched her mother pray. Rose wasn’t religious. What was going on?
‘Mum, what are you –’
‘I’ve got to call the nurse,’ Rose remembered suddenly and jabbed at the buzzer next to the bed. ‘There!’
Katie’s head was incapable of holding any thought for very long and she forgot her question.
‘You saw Liz?’ she said instead.
‘Yes.’ Rose’s face collapsed and she started to cry.
‘How was it?’
‘The same . . . different . . . confusing . . .’
‘But good?’ Katie needed reassurance.
Her face streaming with tears, Rose nodded, ‘Yes, good.’
Katie had a thousand questions to ask but the nurse charged into the room, brandishing her torch like a weapon.
‘You’re back with us,’ she stated matter-of-factly. ‘Can you remember what happened?’
‘Yes.’ Katie could remember quite clearly. Somebody had explained it all, but she wasn’t too sure who.
The nurse continued to speak as she grasped Katie’s wrist to ta
ke her pulse. ‘My name is Maura. No doubt we’ll get to know each other very well over the next few weeks.’
Katie was confused. Nice as Maura seemed to be, it wasn’t obvious why they would be getting to know one another. ‘What?’
Maura inclined her head towards Katie’s injured leg. ‘You’ll be going nowhere soon with that.’
‘Hi, kiddo,’ said Stephen the next morning. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I was great at the start,’ she told him, ‘but now it’s beginning to sink in.’
She looked at the two pins protruding from the side of her thigh, joined by a long bar. A skeletal traction, Maura had called it. In addition to her injured leg, Katie had a sprained wrist and bruising along the side of her torso.
‘It seems I’m going to be stuck here for quite a while,’ she sighed.
He answered her straight. ‘At least six weeks – and add another few on for physiotherapy.’
‘Just like Ethan,’ she said.
‘Who’s Ethan?’
‘Remember the kid who inspired me to raise the money for the fun machines?’
‘Yeah,’ he bobbed his head, ‘that seems like a lifetime ago now. How is he?’
Katie grimaced. She was still smarting from her last conversation with Claudine. ‘I don’t know. His mother and I aren’t in contact any more.’
‘You could do with one of those fun machines yourself now,’ Stephen commented.
‘Yeah,’ Katie sighed again. ‘Well, looking on the bright side, at least I have medical insurance that covers the cost of all this.’
Stephen sat his towering bulk into one of the miniature visitor chairs.
‘Mum is so relieved. I don’t think she believed the doctors when they said you’d wake up –’
‘Did she get home okay?’ Katie asked. Rose had still been teary when she’d left the hospital in the early hours of the morning. She, Frankie and Stephen were staying in an apartment a stone’s throw away.
‘Yeah, but she was weird, saying strange things . . .’
‘Like what?’
‘Like she didn’t deserve you,’ he shrugged his broad shoulders, ‘and that your accident was some kind of payback for her sins.’
Katie remembered Rose’s prayer the night before; she had said something about sins then too.
‘She’s overwrought, that’s all,’ said Katie. ‘Her sins are all in her head.’
Just then there was a knock on the door. A woman in a blue uniform bearing the most delicious-smelling breakfast tray came in.
‘It smells divine,’ said Katie. It felt like a very long time since she had last eaten.
‘Cathy is my name, love,’ said the woman as she set the tray down on the bedside table. ‘We’ll get to know each other very well over the coming weeks.’
Katie recalled Maura’s turn of phrase from last night. ‘Yes, I know, I’m going nowhere soon.’
Later on in the day, when Maura was back on duty and doing a keen examination of Katie’s toes, there was a knock on the door.
‘Delivery for Katie Horgan.’
It was a beautiful boxed arrangement of brightly coloured chrysanthemums. Just looking at them lifted Katie’s spirits.
‘An admirer?’ Maura enquired as she updated the chart at the end of the bed.
‘I don’t know,’ said Katie but her heart was thumping at the thought that they could be from Jim. ‘Is there a card?’
Maura searched the foliage. ‘Yes, there’s one tucked away here.’
She handed it over. ‘Now, don’t forget to keep wiggling those toes, your circulation is very important. The physio will tell you the same.’
‘When will I see the physiotherapist?’
‘Tomorrow.’
Then Maura was off on her rounds and Katie was alone. She opened the card.
Dear Katie,
My name is Karen Woods and I’m the driver who ran you over. I’m so very sorry, I didn’t see you until it was too late. I know you have a long recovery in front of you but I am so happy that you are conscious and doing well – I’ve been ringing the hospital regularly to check on you. I wish I could apologise in person but my solicitor says that I’m not to contact you, he’d have a fit if he knew about this note. Solicitors, they have no hearts!
I’m praying for your speedy recovery.
Best wishes,
Karen
There was an address at the top of the note and Katie immediately penned a response.
Dear Karen,
The fault was all mine and I’m so sorry for giving you such a fright. You’re right: lawyers have no hearts – I should know, I’m one of them – but I hope I’m the exception to the rule.
Thank you for your prayers,
Katie
When Maura returned with her painkillers, she gave her the note to post. Then she fell into a deep sleep and dreamt that it was Laura’s out-of-control car that ran her over.
Chapter 28
The physiotherapist looked the part with her capable face, muscular arms and shiny hair pulled back in a swishy ponytail.
‘I’m Jane.’ Even her name sounded right for the job. ‘I’ve come to see what we can do to prevent your muscles from getting stiff while you’re resting in bed.’
‘I wouldn’t exactly call it resting.’ Katie smiled cynically.
Jane gave her an efficient smile in return and said, ‘Right, let’s start with your feet and work up.’
She asked Katie to do a number of straight lifts with her good leg. Then she strapped a weight to her ankle.
‘Okay, do another ten lifts now.’
‘What about my injured leg?’ Katie asked. ‘Will we be doing any exercises with that?’
‘No, all that hard work will have to wait until you’re out of traction.’
‘The surgeon said six weeks.’ Katie watched the physiotherapist for her reaction. ‘Any chance that it might be sooner than that?’
Jane was cautious in her response. ‘It depends on how fast the healing takes place. You have some nasty fractures. I wouldn’t watch the clock too much if I were you.’
‘Force of habit – I’m a lawyer.’
Jane laughed and asked Katie more about her job. After hearing about six-minute billing units, the High Potential programme and the Just Ask clinic, she started on Katie’s upper body.
‘We’ll take it easy with your sprained wrist for now, but you can start on some lateral raises with the other arm . . .’
‘I need to go back to Cork soon,’ Liz said a few days later. She had a guilty look on her face.
‘Of course you should go home,’ Katie agreed.
‘I left in rather a hurry, you see. I made no arrangements –’
Katie cut her off. ‘Honestly, Liz, you don’t need to explain, I’ve plenty of people here. In fact, sometimes I wouldn’t mind some time on my own.’
Everybody would have to go back to their real lives at some point: Rose, Frankie and Stephen too.
‘Will we watch some telly?’ asked Liz.
‘Yeah, I haven’t had it on for a whole hour.’
Just three days into a very long road to recovery, Katie already felt like smashing her fist through the TV.
What is wrong with me? I should be happy to be alive.
The television sparked to life and they watched a travel programme in silence. Liz was happy not to talk if there was nothing to be said. Katie liked that about her. Everyone else tried to keep the conversation going at all costs, as if Katie was likely to drop back into a coma if there was the slightest lull.
‘How are you and Mum getting along?’ she asked Liz during the ads.
‘Okay,’ was her guarded response. Then she elaborated, ‘These have been difficult circumstances . . . and with our shifts here at the hospital, we haven’t had much opportunity to talk – I mean really talk.’
‘I’m gone past the stage where I need to have somebody by my bedside 24/7,’ said Katie. ‘I’d much rather you two spend some time together.�
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Liz opened up then. ‘I know it sounds selfish, but I’m dying for the chance to have Rose all to myself. I’d love to talk to her about the past – it was like my childhood ended when she went away.’
‘It doesn’t sound selfish at all.’
‘And I could find out who she is now. What makes her happy, what makes her tick . . .’
The travel programme came back on with a feature on Paris.
‘You’ll be able to get some tips for your visit next month,’ said Katie.
But Liz wasn’t paying any attention to the enthusiastic travel presenter as he broadcast from outside Notre Dame. Her forehead creased with thought; her mind seemed to be far from her upcoming holiday. The presenter viewed Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower, sailed down the Seine and admired the Mona Lisa before Liz spoke again.
‘I wonder if Rose would like to go down to Cork with me for a few days?’
Katie thought it was a wonderful suggestion.
‘Please, Mum.’
Rose tutted. ‘I can’t be dashing off down the country and leaving you here on your own.’
‘I have Dad and Stephen.’
Rose picked an imaginary piece of fluff from the bedclothes. ‘You need your mother right now.’
Katie resorted to emotional blackmail. ‘Liz needs you too.’
Rose didn’t answer but Katie could tell that she really wanted to go.
‘Please, Mum,’ she said beseechingly. ‘It would make me very happy if you spent some time with Liz.’
Even with Stephen and Frankie on board, it was another two days before Rose was swayed.
‘Your mother took an awful lot of convincing,’ said Frankie when he popped in on his way back from the train station. ‘I almost had to shove her through the gate.’
‘I can imagine,’ Katie replied, and they shared a look of fond exasperation.
‘Here,’ he put a carrier bag on her bed, ‘I bought you some books, I know you must be sick of the television by now.’
Katie turned the bag upside down and the books tumbled onto the white covers of the bed. There were five in all: big, thick novels that promised to take her far away from her hospital bed. She was touched that he had gone to so much trouble.