Falling in Love in New York (3 page)

“It’s just not my scene to be honest,” she told her sister with a weak smile.

“Oh, OK then,” Caroline seemed a little taken aback by this steadfast refusal of her generosity. “Well ... maybe you and I will try it sometime anyway Mum, what do you think?”

“We could certainly have a look anyway–maybe sometime when Abby’s not so busy,” Teresa said gently.

“Well, I think you need to chill out a bit Abby,” Dermot interjected, and she turned to look at her brother, hurt. Why were they all ganging up on her like this and telling her she needed to slow down? Couldn’t they understand that she desperately needed to keep busy in order to keep going?

“It’s not that simple Dermot,” she said, now trying to bite back tears. “Being an accountant is different to being a mechanic.”

Her twenty-eight-year old brother worked in a small auto parts business, and as he had few commitments and no mortgage to pay, he could be pretty carefree about everything.

“Of course it is love, we all know that,” Teresa, ever the peacemaker, piped up quickly. “We’d just prefer to see you taking it easy now and then. You seem to be doing a lot these days, and I supposed we’re all a bit worried about you, that’s all.”

“Well there’s no need to worry,” Abby reassured them for what seemed like the umpteenth time. “Yes, work might be hectic but at the same time I enjoy it.”

“Well, just don’t make it your only focus,” Caroline said, topping up everyone’s champagne glasses. “You know what they say about all work and no play …”

Again, Abby was struck by the stark contrast between her and Caroline’s life. Her sister was so lucky; she had a husband who adored her, a big house in Dalkey and not a care in world.  But yet she wouldn’t dream of begrudging Caroline her perfect life. Sometimes circumstances just worked out that way; some people had all the luck, while others didn’t.

And while Caroline was one of the former, Abby thought grimacing as the waiter put a plate of something foreign and unappetising in front of her, there was no denying that these days, she was definitely one of the latter.

The following Monday morning, the phone rang, and toast still in hand, Abby went to answer it.

“Hello stranger!” Erin said chirpily.

“How are you?” Immediately, Abby felt bad. She hadn’t seen or spoken to her best friend in an age. Despite Erin’s repeated attempts to get her to come out on nights on the town, she just couldn’t bring herself to get dressed up and join in the fun. Her friend was so bubbly and carefree that Abby could barely keep up with her at the best of times, and again, she just didn’t want her own circumstances to drag everyone down. But while she’d love a chat, she didn’t have a whole lot of time now, not when it was eight-fifteen am, and she was practically on the way out the door …

Erin seemed to read her mind. “I’m great, but listen I know you’re probably heading out to work soon, so I won’t keep you.” She sounded excited. “Myself, Miriam and Rebecca were out for a few drinks last night. ”

Miriam and Rebecca were two more friends Abby hadn’t spoken to in ages. It wasn’t that she’d been avoiding them on purpose or anything; she just knew that nobody in their right mind wanted to be around her with the way she was at the moment. Chances were, the girls would be appalled by the fact that she hadn’t managed to get over her broken relationship and move on with her life the way everyone else did. They were all strong, hugely independent girls who wouldn’t
dream
of letting a man get them down like this.

But no matter how hard she’d tried over the last few months, Abby couldn’t get over Kieran, and couldn’t move on, not when she continually felt like one of her arms had been hacked off. Who would want to be around a misery guts like that? No, much better to just keep to herself for a while, and try and get over this in her own time, rather than trying to force herself to go on the tear with the girls and end up embarrassing herself and them by bawling into her drink at the end of the night.

Erin was still talking, “So we came up with an idea for a long weekend away–girls only. What do you think about Dubai?”

“What do
I
think?” Abby knew little about the place, other than it was supposed to be baking hot and was
very
far away.

“None of us have been there before, and it’s supposed to be gorgeous–lovely warm sunshine, great shopping, and the four of us could have a good giggle, what do you reckon?”

“The four of us … you mean for me to go too?”

“Of course!” Erin said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “We were thinking maybe next month–around Halloween, so none of us would have to take too much time off work.”

Abby panicked. They’d have to fly to a place like that wouldn’t they? And seeing as the very notion terrified her…

When she gave this excuse to Erin, her friend groaned.

“For God’s sake Abby, you got on a plane
once
–well twice I suppose when you count the return journey.”

That was true, but as far as she was concerned, twice had been more than enough. She and Kieran had taken their first (and last) foreign holiday together two years before. They’d gone to Spain for a week, somewhere that wasn’t a particularly inspired choice, as he detested the heat, and wouldn’t touch the food. To top it all off, the flight over had been fraught with turbulence, something Kieran–who also hated flying –had predicted beforehand.

“Most of these so-called pilots haven’t a clue what they’re doing, they’re only glorified bus drivers,” he’d gruffly informed Abby during take-off. “And considering the prices they charge for these flights …”

Abby had thought the plane tickets were actually quite reasonable considering, but if Kieran was right about the pilot’s lack of training, then she could understand why. Either way, it hadn’t given her a whole lot of confidence in the journey, and when they’d hit some turbulence throughout the flight and things got a little bumpy, his detailed knowledge of aeroplanes made things even worse.

“Tin cans is all these things are,” he told her, while Abby, her knuckles white, tightly clutched the armrest, and prayed it would soon be over. “I don’t know why they even bother with all that safety procedure bullshit. Sure, if we take a dive it’s all over either way.”

After that, there wasn’t a hope in hell of her relaxing during the so-called ‘holiday’; she was so worried about the flight back home. While there, the heat had made Kieran bad-tempered and irritable, so much so that on the very first day he’d got into a huge argument with a nice Spanish waiter about the ice in his drink.

“Full of bloody germs, ice is,” he insisted to Abby, before demanding the waiter get him a replacement Coke. She’d spent the rest of the holiday drinking warm beer, and was afraid to brush her teeth; she was so anxious about being infected with some weird water-borne Spanish virus.

And although the food to her looked perfectly normal, and to her surprise wasn’t terribly Spanish at all–in fact if anything the restaurants seemed more Irish what with the steak and baked potatoes (and in one place, even Irish
stew
) they offered, Kieran wouldn’t touch a bite, protesting that the steak wasn’t steak at all.

“How many cows did you see on the way in from the airport?” he said, making a pretty good point really. “God knows what kind of stuff these foreign chancers are feeding us.”

Abby, who actually thought the Spanish people she’d met so far were lovely and incredibly patient and accommodating (considering) didn’t think they’d
dream
of trying to trick people, but unfortunately she couldn’t convince her boyfriend otherwise.

“And some of them would want to do a few night courses in English while they’re at it–your man there obviously hadn’t a clue what I was saying when I told him to leave out the ice, although maybe he was just trying to spite me.”

No, Abby reflected, foreign climes just weren’t for her what with hot weather, dodgy flights, and according to Kieran, even dodgier food.

“I don’t think so Erin,” she said to her friend now, the thoughts of a trip to another faraway destination way down on her list of priorities. But notwithstanding everything else, there really was no way she could take time off from work at such short notice. Halloween was only a few weeks away and worse, coincided with the income tax deadline, which meant the accountancy firm would be snowed under. When she explained this, Erin didn’t seem convinced.

“Ah, come on Abby, you seem to have been working every hour God sent these last few months, surely you’re due some time off?”

“I really can’t, things are just too busy.”

“OK, well maybe we could put it off for a while then, find a time that suits everyone?”

Abby squirmed. “Maybe,” she said non-committally.

“Abby, are you OK? Every time I talk to you lately you seem totally preoccupied with work, and this is the third time in weeks that you’ve turned me down.” Erin sounded hurt. “Look, I’m sure you’re still finding things hard but– ”

“Look, I’m sorry but can I give you a call back later?” Abby interjected then, completely unable to deal with this turn in conversation. “I really have to go. I’m running late as it is.”

A brief silence. “OK.”

“Look, you guys go ahead and book the trip and don’t mind me OK?” she went on, trying to keep her voice light and upbeat. “We’ll try and meet up soon, I promise.”

“Fine.” Erin sounded a little put out.

“Talk to you soon, OK?” With that, Abby hung up and gulped down the rest of her coffee before grabbing her coat and hurrying out the door of the flat. She checked her watch. Eight thirty-five. Oh no–she was
definitely
going to be late now!

She hurried down the street towards town, and had to negotiate her way through a throng of people getting off at nearby a bus stop. In her haste, she almost collided with a pedestrian coming in the other direction.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, ducking out of the woman’s way at the very last second but in doing so, her path headed straight underneath a ladder leaning against a building close by. OK, she thought, not bothering to go round it and get caught up amongst even
more
people; she wasn’t a superstitious person anyway so–

This was Abby’s very last thought before there was a bright, blinding flash and suddenly, everything went dark.

When she woke up, a stranger’s face was hovering above her.

“Hello love, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine–I think,” Abby managed groggily. She tried to sit up but the stranger, a middle-aged woman all dressed in white, gently resisted her attempts.

“No, pet, lie still there for a while until the doctor gets here; he should be on his way soon. Would you like anything? A glass of water, maybe? I’m Molly by the way.”

“The doctor?” To her horror, Abby realised she was lying on a bed in what looked to be a hospital ward. And the woman in white with the kind face who was calling herself Molly had to be a nurse. What on earth was she doing in a hospital? she wondered, panicking.

“You had a little accident,” Molly said, as if reading her thoughts. 

“Accident?”

“Yes.” Abby realised that the nurse was trying her utmost to appear casual and impassive, but somehow her eyes gave her away. What was going on here? What accident? “You don’t remember?”

“No …I …” She blinked, her eyes heavy with sleep. “How long have I been here? How did I get here?” Lifting her arm out from beneath the covers, she looked at her watch, as if this would somehow enlighten her as to everything that was going on. But there was no watch.

“Don’t worry, all your things are safe and sound,” said the nurse, again second-guessing her. “Your mother has them.”

“Mum? My mother was here?” Now, Abby was seriously frightened. What was going on?

“Ah you’re awake,” said a male voice from the doorway, and a man who Abby assumed was the doctor appeared at the end of the bed. He picked up her medical chart and gave it a quick once-over. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m really not sure,” Abby said, regarding him worriedly.

“Any dizziness, nausea, anything like that?”

“No,” she replied automatically, but the truth was that she did indeed feel dizzy–dizzy with panic and fear over what was happening.

The doctor nodded and scribbled something on the chart. “Any pain or headaches?”

Well, yes she
did
feel some pressure on one side of her head but …

“Look will someone please tell me what’s going on?” she asked, her voice trembling. “How did I get here? What’s wrong with me?”

The doctor looked up quickly from the medical chart. “You don’t remember?”

“Well, if I did remember I wouldn’t be asking!” Abby cried, biting back tears. “What’s going on?”

But the doctor seemed determined to ignore her pleas and continued on with his questions. “Abby, do you know what day it is?”

Goodness, this was like an episode of the
Twilight Zone
! she thought, eyes widening.

“What do you mean ‘what day’? It’s Monday of course.”

“And your telephone number?”

“My telephone number…” Abby went to shake her head at the absurdity of it all and as she did, realised that it felt unusually heavy. She lifted up a hand to touch it and discovered that the top of her head seemed to be wrapped in some kind of …bandage. Oh my God!

“OK, maybe we’ll come back to that later,” the doctor said, noticing her obvious distress. “But Abby, can I just ask what’s the last thing you
do
remember?”

“I’m not sure …”

Confused, Abby tried to cast her mind back. Earlier that morning, she was on her way to work, and was rushing because … because she’d been on the phone to Erin having a conversation about … about a holiday, that was it! It had been after eight-thirty by the time she’d left the house, and the streets were packed with everyone racing here and there …

When she told the doctor this, he nodded sagely.

“You don’t remember anything about a ladder?”

She blinked. “What ladder?”

The doctor nodded again, as if she’d passed, or more likely
failed
, some kind of important test.

One that Abby didn’t realise she was taking.

“Abby, you sustained a considerable head injury as a result of a roof tile falling from a building and hitting you on the side of the head,” he explained, his voice gentle. “Initially, the force of the blow knocked you out, during which time we were unable to– ”

“Doctor Moroney.”

Suddenly another stranger appeared at the end of Abby’s bed, a woman with kind eyes who looked to be in her early forties. But unlike the others, this woman wasn’t wearing standard hospital-type clothes; instead, she was dressed in a smart black pinstripe suit and bright pink blouse.

“Oh, hello Doctor, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d been called.” The male doctor stepped away from examining Abby to show her medical chart to the newcomer and the two chatted amongst themselves in low voices for a few minutes, which made Abby feel even more uneasy.

Eventually, the male doctor returned to her side.

“Now where were we?” He took a tiny flashlight out of his pocket and shined it directly in Abby’s eyes, after which he made another notation on the medical chart. “Ah yes, can you tell me your phone number?” he asked again, before adding jokily, “don’t worry, I’m a happily married man.”

Abby was too full of anxiety to appreciate the joke, but she quickly rattled off the digits, all too sudden eager to prove to him, if not to herself, that she was absolutely fine.

“And your home address? Work address?” he went on, picking up her right arm and taking her blood pressure. Abby repeated both addresses with ease, her trepidation easing by the minute although she was still completely dazed by all this.

“OK, well we’ll get you down for an MRI soon to check out the damage,” the doctor said, finally putting the chart back, “and I’ll talk to you again after we’ve done the scans. In the meantime, just take it easy and don’t move about too much, OK? You got quite a knock there, and were unconscious for a while, but Doctor O’Neill will tell you all about that.” He and the older woman exchanged looks before he eventually walked out of the room.

Tell me all about what?
Abby wondered, barely able to take it all in.
And how long had she been unconscious?

“Abby, hi, I’m Hannah O’Neill, but please call me Hannah,” the other doctor said kindly. “I’m the consulting neuropsychologist here at St Vincent’s and I’ll be able to answer any questions you might have.”

Abby nodded gratefully, relieved that she might finally get some answers. “How long was I unconscious?”

“Well, they brought you in this morning and it’s now lunchtime, so no more than three or four hours at the most.”

“Three or four hours? But what happened?”

“Well, as Doctor Moroney explained, you were hit on the head by a falling roof tile,” she repeated pleasantly. “That’s why we needed to ask you those questions. Amnesia can be common after head trauma.”

Molly the nurse returned from tending to another patient. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink of water?” she asked again.

“Actually I think I will.” All of a sudden Abby was parched–unsurprising if she’d been unconscious, she thought, still hardly able to believe it. A falling roof tile! She vaguely remembered veering across the path in order to avoid the person coming towards her, but couldn’t specifically recall noticing the ladder. Not that it would have bothered her, she wasn’t a particularly superstitious person, but clearly this idea had less to do with superstition and much more with safety…

“Was anybody else injured?” she asked Hannah, suddenly fearful that she might have been the cause of something more serious. Knowing her luck, it was a distinct possibility…

“Not that we’re aware of.” Hannah said, allaying her worries on that score.

Soon after, the nurse came back with a glass of water, and helped Abby sit up back against the pillows while the psychologist filled in some more of the blanks.

“I’m not sure of the exact details, but it seems the workman on the roof called an ambulance, and stayed with you until it came,” she said. “You had your office identity card on you when you came in so admissions called your boss at the accountancy firm, who in turn called your family.” She tucked the sheets tightly around Abby and then handed her the glass of water. “Your mother has been with you all morning but apparently just went down to the canteen to get some lunch. I’ve had one of the girls go down to tell her you’re awake so I’m sure she’ll be back to see you very soon.”

Abby nodded, relieved that her mother was nearby. “Any idea when I’ll be out?” she asked then.

But the other woman wouldn’t meet her gaze, which for some reason terrified Abby all over again. “Well, that’ll depend on the results of the MRI, and we may have to do a CAT too,” she went on, her voice even. “It all depends. Either way, you’ll have to take things easy for a while.”

“Take things easy?” Abby cried, panicking, “But I can’t! I’m completely snowed under with work and Frank my boss, will go ballistic!”

“Abby, you sustained a very serious head injury,” Hannah spoke gently as if addressing a young child. “And until we know for sure how all of this will affect you, work and everything else will just have to take a backseat for a while.”

“How all of what will affect me? What does that mean?”

“Look, we’ll talk about all of that when the scans come back OK?” the other woman soothed. “For the moment, just relax here and try not to worry.”

But how could she
not
worry? Abby argued inwardly. This awful, scary thing had happened to her, a thing that might very well end up having greater repercussions than having to take time off work, which was bad enough considering…

Flustered, Abby subconsciously lifted a hand to the back of her neck, only to pull it away again almost immediately. What on earth…?

“What happened to my hair?” she gasped, disbelievingly.

Instead of her curly mid-length blonde hair, she was now sporting some choppy bob-type thing. She moved her hands all over her head, willing to find that some of her precious hair–the only thing Abby liked about herself and what Kieran said was the very first thing he’d noticed about her…

Hannah was quick to reassure her. “They had to cut most it off–so they could examine the wound. But don’t worry; it’ll all grow back in time. Here, I’ll have the nurse get you a mirror so you can see it properly.”

“They cut off my hair without asking?” Even as she said the words Abby knew how stupid they sounded but she just couldn’t believe it. All her lovely hair, gone!

Despite herself she burst into tears and stupidly she knew–given the circumstances–her only concern was that now, Kieran would
never
want her back.

Some fifteen minutes later, Abby’s mother arrived at her bedside looking suitably worried, but at the same time hugely relieved that her daughter was now awake and OK.

“How are you feeling love?” Teresa asked, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, but Molly made me go down to the canteen for a bite.”

‘Molly’? Abby had to smile. She was only here a couple of hours and already her mum was on first-name terms with the staff.

“That’s OK,” she reassured her, greatly relieved to have someone she knew by her side “and I’m OK too–I think.” 

She’d since got over her hysterics about her new ‘hairstyle’, and felt considerably better about it once she’d examined her apperance properly in the small mirror Doctor O’Neill had arranged for her. The doctor (who kept insisting on being called just Hannah) had then spent a further few minutes discussing her injury with her before eventually leaving her to relax.

“The last thing we want is to tire you out. You’ve had a big shock so take it easy and rest a little,” she told Abby kindly. “Doctor Moroney should be back soon with the results of your MRI, and I’ll be checking in on you over the next couple of days to see how you’re getting on.” 

“Next couple of days …” Abby repeated, shocked. “How long are you planning to keep me here? I really do feel fine, you know.”

But frustratingly, Hannah was having none of it and remained non-committal about the length of her stay. “We’ll just have to wait and see,” was all she said, before promising to return the next day for another chat.

“So it seems I’m stuck here for a while longer,” Abby explained to her mother now. “It’s odd because I really do feel absolutely fine.”

“Well I suppose the doctors know best all the same,” Teresa patted her on the arm sympathetically. “So do you remember what happened? Before you blacked out, I mean?”

Again, Abby explained that she remembered every single thing that had happened that same morning except actually walking under the ladder.

“I was late for work, and in a bit of rush and the last thing I remember is making my way through the crowds. Next thing I know, I wake up in here.” When her mother looked troubled, Abby was quick to reassure her. “Don’t worry Mum, I’m absolutely fine. I can only imagine how worried you were when you got the phone call though.”

“Well of course I was,” Teresa said. “We all were, Caroline, Dermot and Claire.”