Not Quite Perfect

by Annie Lyons

  ‘I have to say, I feel rather responsible for all this and I am sorry,’ he says offering her the wine.

  ‘Thanks,’ she says unsure of what else to say.

  ‘But if I’m honest I didn’t really think Martin was making you happy. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I do regret the trouble I’ve caused you.’

  ‘Well, I appreciate you coming round to see how I am,’ says Emma sipping her wine.

  ‘I was desperate to see you. I’ve thought of nothing else since last night.’ Richard takes her wine glass from her and sets it down on the table. He cups her face in his hands.

  ‘You see the thing is,’ he says kissing the corner of her lips. ‘I have fallen.’ Another kiss. ‘Quite hopelessly.’ And another. ‘In love with you.’ The next kiss is long and lingering and Emma feels herself move towards him. ‘Emma I think we should go upstairs,’ he breathes. He stands and picks up the wine glasses. Emma is completely stuck in the moment. Martin is gone, she tells herself. It’s time to move on. She stands to follow him just as her home phone rings.

  ‘I’ll leave it,’ she says.

  She follows Richard upstairs and by the time they reach the bedroom she can hear her mother’s voice on the answering machine, but can’t pick out any words. I’ll call her tomorrow, she thinks, have a proper chat, maybe invite her for lunch. Richard sets down the wine glasses and walks to where Emma is hesitating in the doorway. He kisses her again on the mouth and then starts to kiss her neck and work his way down. He is just undoing her robe when Emma’s mobile starts to ring. She looks towards where it lies on the dresser.

  ‘Leave it,’ says Richard, but Emma glances over and sees the caller ID.

  ‘It’s my mother,’ she says.

  ‘So?’

  ‘She never phones my mobile,’ she says reaching for the phone. Richard pulls away and sinks onto the bed, sulking like a five-year-old.

  ‘Mum? Are you OK?’

  ‘Emma? Emma, is that you?’ Her mother sounds very far away, her voice uncharacteristically small and distant.

  ‘Yes, Mum, what is it?’

  ‘It’s your father, Emma. There’s – there’s –’ she stutters over her words and then breaks off.

  ‘Mum!’ calls Emma feeling the panic rising in her voice. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Emma?’ It’s Rachel’s voice. ‘Are you there?’

  ‘Yes, Rach, tell me what’s happened to Dad!’

  ‘He’s had a heart attack. We’re at St. Mary’s. I think you better get down here.’

  ‘Do you want anything from the machine, Mum?’

  Diana, her eyes red from crying, looks at her daughter as if she has just spoken to her in Lithuanian.

  ‘Sorry, Rachel, did you say something?’ Rachel sits down next to her mother and takes her hand. Diana immediately stiffens at the physical contact and draws her hand away but pats Rachel’s leg to show that she is grateful. ‘I’m fine. Thank you.’ They are sitting on plastic chairs, which have probably won awards for ‘world’s most uncomfortable seat’. Rachel looks around her. A low coffee table to her right is covered in tatty women’s weeklies and the odd Saga magazine. On the opposite wall, there is a print of one of Van Gogh’s sunflower paintings. How depressing, thinks Rachel – a painting by a mentally unstable genius who committed suicide – perfect for encouraging people to get better.

  ‘I’m going to go and get a drink. Do you want one?’ she tries again.

  ‘What? No thank you, Rachel,’ says her mother and she continues staring off into the middle distance. Rachel walks down the corridor feeling slightly nauseous at the smell of chemical cleanliness and fearful of the beeps and groans she can hear coming from the wards. She finds a drinks machine and empties her change into its slot. She is rewarded with a drink the consistency of mud and sand which purports to be a cappuccino

  ‘Excuse me, dear,’ says a thin voice at her elbow. Rachel looks round to find a small, skeletal woman, carrying two heavily stuffed plastic bags, her hair a wispy halo around her head.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asks Rachel, immediately concerned.

  ‘Oh yes, dear, I’m fine,’ says the woman displaying a mouth devoid of teeth, ‘I just need to know where I go for the number fifty-two bus?’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure,’ says Rachel looking around her, desperate for a nurse to appear. Just at that moment the woman lets forth a gush of urine onto the floor, some of which splashes onto Rachel’s shoe.

  ‘Ahhh, that’s better,’ says the woman with a grateful smile.

  ‘Mrs Hill! Mrs Hill! There you are,’ calls a genial looking West Indian nurse. She jogs up to the old lady and takes her by the arm. ‘Oh, you had a little accident. Well, I’ll sort that out. Let’s get you back to bed, shall we?’ The nurse turns to Rachel and whispers, ‘Poor lady. She keeps trying to pack her bags and go back home to her husband, but he died seven years ago. It’s very sad.’ She leads the old lady away and Rachel hears her ask, ‘When will I see my Ernie again, Grace?’ Rachel feels tears welling in her eyes and is aware of someone standing next to her. She turns and is so grateful to be looking up at Steve. He wraps her in his arms and she sobs.

  Richard screeches into the hospital car park and pulls up outside the modern, pillared entrance.

  ‘Are you going to wait?’ asks Emma. She looks at him and sees the panic pass over his face before he masks it with a kindly smile.

  ‘Oh Emma, I would but to be honest I’m not very good with family things, you know,’ he says, as if she has invited him to her cousin’s wedding. ‘I don’t think they’d want me there.’

  ‘No, but I could do with some support.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ he says, ‘and if you need me, you just have to call me, OK?’ He takes her hands and kisses her, ‘I really hope your dad’s OK, Emma.’

  Emma doesn’t answer. She opens the door of the car feeling numb and walks into the hospital without looking back.

  Richard watches her disappear and retrieves his mobile. He flicks to missed calls. The voice that answers is purring but with a hard edge.

  ‘Hey, loser, good to hear from you.’

  Richard grins and stretches back in his seat. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘Well, I’m currently lying in bed wearing nothing but a smile. It would be lovely to see you, if you’re not too busy with your editor,’ purrs the female voice.

  Richard laughs. ‘That’s a very tempting offer. I’m obviously very busy but I think I might be able to fit you in, in say half an hour?’

  ‘I look forward to it.’

  ‘He’s had quite a sizeable heart attack and, at this stage, it’s a little like a volcano. We can’t really say what will happen next. But for the moment, he’s stable. The next twenty-four hours will be critical,’ says the consultant.

  Rachel is staring at the mole on the doctor’s lip all the while she is talking. Diana sits looking almost serene as if this woman is delivering tomorrow’s weather forecast. Emma is crying noisily in the corner. Steve is the only one paying full attention to the doctor and when she has finished he thanks her. She smiles the smile of a woman who experiences these scenes every day of her life and sweeps out of the room. The four of them sit together in silence for a while. Rachel looks at the tubes and machines that are keeping her father alive.

  ‘I just don’t understand it. Why is this happening to him? He’s so fit and well, he eats properly, he doesn’t smoke, OK, he likes a drink, but God, it’s just so unfair!’ Steve squeezes her shoulder. She smiles at him gratefully.

  ‘Some people have weak hearts I guess,’ offers Emma in a small, weepy voice.

  ‘Oh for goodness sake, Emma. That’s not a very helpful thing to say!’ cries Rachel.

  ‘Sorry, I’m just saying,’ says Emma sulkily.

  ‘Girls, can you just be quiet please,’ says Diana. The girls look at their mother and mumble ashamed apologies.

  ‘I think we should all try to get some rest,’ says Steve.
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  ‘We can’t go anywhere,’ says Rachel.

  ‘No, of course not. Your mum can have the chair and I’ll ask at the nurse’s station for some mattresses and blankets.’

  ‘What about the kids?’ says Rachel.

  ‘Sue says she can stay and take them to school in the morning. She said not to give it a second thought,’ says Steve.

  Rachel wishes she knew what to say to Steve. They haven’t spoken properly since she stormed out the previous night. She had returned early in the morning, in time to take Will to school, and there had been a cursory exchange in the hall as he left for work. It was as if they couldn’t bring themselves to start on a conversation for fear of where it might lead. All she knows is that she’s so glad he’s here at the moment.

  Moments later, Steve returns with the bedding and soon, they are all tucked up around the room, like tourists on some bizarre camping holiday.

  If it wasn’t so terrifying, thinks Rachel, this would be quite funny. She looks at her mother, who is propped up in a hospital armchair with a blanket draped loosely around her shoulders. She is staring at Edward with a look of such love and concern, Rachel feels as if her heart will break.

  ‘Mum?’ Diana looks over at her daughter, slightly bemused. ‘You should get some rest,’ urges Rachel.

  ‘I will, darling. You go to sleep.’

  Emma wakes up and at first can’t remember where she is. The room is dark and as her eyes adjust she can see her mother’s shoes a few feet from her face and wonders if she’s having another bizarre dream. She sits up and rubs her eyes, banging her head hard on the bottom of her father’s bed.

  ‘Ow!’

  ‘Emma?’

  ‘Mum?’ Emma rubs her head and peers through the darkness at her mother propped up in the padded green hospital chair. She is alarmed to see her staring past her as if she is asleep with her eyes open. ‘Mum, are you OK?’ she asks, following her eyes to where Edward lies, his breathing steady through a jumble of tubes.

  Diana’s eyes don’t leave Edward for a second. ‘I’m fine.’

  Emma isn’t sure what to do next. She feels as if she’s intruding on her parents and suddenly sees them as a couple in love and wants to cry. ‘I think I’ll go and get a drink. Will you be OK?’

  ‘Of course,’ says Diana not looking at her. ‘We’ll be fine.’

  Emma tiptoes out of the room and down the corridor. It’s deathly silent, which strikes Emma as strange for a building full of sick people. Suddenly she hears a moan from one of the other rooms. Its volume and frequency intensify and Emma looks round in panic. She walks towards the nurse’s station.

  ‘Excuse me? Excuse me? I think there’s someone here who needs help,’ she calls. A stout looking nurse with a weary face appears and heads towards the room without acknowledging Emma’s pleas or presence. Emma stands alone feeling frightened and then turns on her heels and heads towards the exit. Once outside she breathes in cold night air, holding the wall for support. She looks up at the sky and for once in her life, she prays: ‘Please, please don’t let him die.’

  The tears course down her face and the enormity of the situation hits her like a slap. She reaches into her pocket for her phone willing herself to be wrong about Richard. There are no messages, no consoling texts, and Emma Darcy is forced to confront a truth she would rather ignore. She hears the automatic doors open and feels her sister by her side.

  ‘Hey, Em.’

  ‘Hey,’ says Emma her voice hoarse from crying.

  ‘I thought I might find you here,’ adds Rachel linking arms with her sister. ‘Come on. Let’s walk.’

  They make their way across the car park. A heavily pregnant woman is lumbering towards the hospital, her husband beside her, looking helpless. She pauses every now and then as a ripple of pain surges through her body. Her husband takes her hands, his face ashen and concerned. Rachel shivers once they are passed.

  ‘Poor buggers. I know how that feels and I certainly wouldn’t want to go through it again.’ Emma, already on an emotional knife-edge, bursts into a fresh round of tears. Rachel hugs her sister. ‘Come on, Em, it’s OK.’

  ‘No, it’s bloody not!’ cries Emma. ‘I’ve ballsed up everything with Martin. I’ve made such a fool of myself and him. I’ll probably never get married or have children and now Dad’s lying in hospital and he might die!’ she says through a veil of snot and tears.

  ‘Well, I have to say, little sis, you’re unlikely to ever find another boyfriend with that amount of mucus streaming down your face.’

  Emma snorts with weak laughter, grateful to her sister for trying to stop the onslaught of emotion but it’s short-lived as she starts to cry again. Rachel holds her by the shoulders.

  ‘Listen to me, Em. Since when did Edward Darcy ever give up on anything?’

  ‘Never?’ says Emma sounding unconvinced.

  ‘Precisely,’ says Rachel. ‘Like he’s going to leave us now with all our problems.’ Emma gives her sister a quizzical look but Rachel doesn’t want to dwell on her problems at this moment. ‘Anyway, you will get married. I’m not having you left on the shelf. You’ll only come and live with us and that would be bloody awful. I’d kill you within a week!’ Emma laughs. Rachel pulls her sister to her. ‘Everything will be fine,’ she says, hoping and praying that this is true.

  Chapter 23

  ‘Good morning!’ sings the cheerful Asian nurse as she picks her way through the assorted sleeping bodies on the floor. ‘Ooh, quite crowded in here!’ She picks up Edward’s chart and casts her eye over the monitors and tubes. Then she scribbles on the notes and says, ‘Doctor be here soon.’

  Steve, Rachel and Emma all start to unfold themselves, stretching out their aching limbs. Diana is still motionless in the chair watching Edward, and Emma wonders if she has been like this all night.

  ‘Right, why don’t I fetch us some breakfast?’ says Steve. Rachel smiles at him but notices that he doesn’t catch her eye.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ says Emma. ‘What does everyone want?’ They are all waiting for Diana to answer but she doesn’t move or seem to have heard.

  Rachel kneels in front of her mother. ‘Mum?’ Diana blinks and looks down her daughter as if seeing her for the first time. ‘Do you want some breakfast? Maybe a cup of tea and a croissant?’ says Rachel gently.

  Diana sighs. ‘I’m not eating anything from that cafeteria. Pat Burley came in here for a knee operation and her husband caught food poisoning from their toad-in-the-hole.’ Rachel exchanges an amused glance with her sister. ‘It’s not funny, Rachel,’ says her mother. She looks at Steve. ‘I’ll just have a cup of tea, thank you, Steve.’

  When they are gone, Rachel goes to the window and looks out at the car park below. The day is grey and unpromising. There are lots of spaces but cars are darting in by the dozen, laying claim to the precious parking spots. Rachel turns to look at her mother unsure of how to start the conversation. She tries for an easy option.

  ‘So, did you manage to get any sleep last night?’

  Diana’s eyes are back on Edward’s. ‘Rachel, look!’

  Rachel looks over at her father and can see his head moving ever so slightly, his eyelids flickering into life. They rush to his side.

  ‘Edward! Edward, can you hear me?’ implores Diana, reaching out for him. Edward’s eyes open slightly and he catches sight of his wife.

  ‘Is there any tea?’ he whispers in a parched voice.

  Rachel and Diana laugh and Diana touches his cheek. ‘You horrible man. How dare you scare us all like that?’ she says. The door swings open and the doctor from last night walks in.

  ‘Goodness, you’ve had a long night,’ says Rachel by way of greeting. The doctor smiles and doesn’t disagree.

  ‘Good morning,’ she says, ‘and good morning Mr Darcy. How are you feeling today?’

  ‘Thirsty,’ says Edward. The doctor nods and starts to examine him. Rachel feels a little self-conscious but is compelled to stay and distracts hersel
f by looking at the hand-washing instructions on the wall. When the doctor has finished she gives a little cough. Rachel and Diana turn to face her.

  ‘As I told you last night, this was a sizeable heart attack.’

  ‘What did I miss?’ says Emma bustling into the room, cups in hand. ‘Dad! You’re awake!’ she cries thrusting the cups into her sister’s hand and flinging herself at him.

  ‘Careful, Emma!’ cries Diana.

  ‘Sorry,’ says Emma, and then to the doctor, ‘sorry.’

  ‘That’s quite all right. As I was saying, it was a sizeable heart attack and there will be some resultant tissue damage. However, it is a good sign that you are already regaining consciousness Mr Darcy. The next twenty-four hours will be crucial but I’m very pleased to see you’re awake. I’ll tell the nurses and then hand you over to my colleague, Dr Assan.’

  Diana smiles proudly at her husband. ‘Thank you, Doctor, thank you so much,’ she says.

  Rachel follows the doctor out of the room. ‘Thank you again, Doctor.’

  The doctor looks at Rachel, her face serious. ‘It’s good that your father is making such speedy progress but we’re not out of the woods yet. He’s obviously a fit and healthy man.’

  ‘Yes and he knows how angry my mother would be if he left us now,’ jokes Rachel and then wishes she hadn’t.

  The doctor smiles again. ‘I’m sure. If you have any questions or concerns, just ask one of the nurses to page Dr Assan.’

  Rachel nods and darts back into the room, which has now taken on something of a party atmosphere with Emma and Diana perched on the bed and Steve standing by Edward’s head board telling him the football results from the previous night. Rachel goes to her dad and kisses him on the cheek.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ she asks.

  ‘As if your children have been jumping on me all night,’ says Edward hoarsely.

  Rachel smiles. ‘You gave us quite a shock, Dad. We expect this level of drama from Emma, but not you.’

  ‘Shut up cow-bag,’ says Emma but she is smiling.

  ‘And how my favourite patient?’ says the nurse from earlier, who has appeared through the door. ‘Very nice to see you awake, Mr Darcy. I get you some water and then we take it from there, OK? You need anything, you just call, OK?’