In The Garden Of Stones (39 page)

“
It wasn’t that simple or that quick, Grace. They’ve been
considering every aspect of Colin’s case for a while. The tests
were merely confirmation of what they already knew.”

“
I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” she says. “After all
we’ve been through, all we’ve talked about, all you’ve seen. A
sodding miracle you said. Did you tell them about that?”

“
Yes, I did.”

“
And what did they say?”

“
A fluke, nothing more.”

Grace
paces the floor, scrubbing at her brow. “What about Lucas? He’s
next of kin. They can’t do anything without his say. Get Lucas in
here. Get him to tell them–”

“
He’s already given his consent,” says Gibb.

“
What? When?”

“
When he took responsibility as Colin’s next of kin, he
signed documentation abdicating all Colin’s care to the medics,
trusting they would always do their best for him. He literally gave
them carte blanche to do whatever needed to be done to his brother
without further consultation. He left it entirely in their hands
hoping only for improvement and eventual discharge. It probably
never even crossed his mind that if Colin should suffer an
intractable fit, or a heart attack, or he picks up an infection and
goes into organ failure, or fails to respond to treatment, as he is
doing now, he will not receive any life restoring measures. He will
be made as comfortable as is humanly possible, and
then–”

“
You turn away from him and leave him to die? You can’t work
out how to make him better, so you give up on him.”

“
Speaking for myself, I never give up on anybody, Grace, no
matter how hopeless the case–”

“
Colin is not a hopeless case–! If Lucas had had the
slightest inkling of what he was being asked to sign up to he
wouldn’t have agreed.”

“
Beside the point,” says Gibbs. “What’s done is
done.”

“
You can’t allow this to stand.”

“
I’m afraid we can, and there’s not a damned thing either
you or I can do about it. It’s out of our hands.”

“
We’ll see about that. I want to see the doctor in charge.
The one who made this decision. Get him in here right
now.”

“
Nothing you say will make any difference, Grace. The
decision has been made by the people who are able to make it and,
to be brutal – it’s none of your business.”

“
Oh, really? And who’s going to stop me making it my
business?”

No
reply.

“
As I thought. So are you going to call him or
not?”

“
No.”

“
Then I’ll bloody well do it myself. Get out of my
way.”

He leans
against the door, blocking her exit. “You’ll be wasting your time,
Grace. They won’t listen. Right is on their side. Please, sit
down.”

She
stands her ground, glaring at him. When his eyes meet hers they are
filled with such sincere sympathy and helpless compassion that she
feels her rage dissipate. Slowly, she does as he asks, and he tucks
Colin’s file back in the drawer.

“
If there’s nothing we can do, why did you tell me anything
at all?” she says.

“
I thought you ought to know… in case anything
happened–”

“
And I wondered why you weren’t doing anything?”

Gibbs
closes the drawer with a soft click and turns the key, locking it.
“Yes. But I don’t want anything to happen to Colin any more than
you do. That’s why I said if you can do something, anything to
reach him, to bring him back, even if it’s just part way, if you
can get him to say just one word, there might be a chance, a slim
one, of having the order revoked. As long as he remains in the
condition he is in, or if the time ever comes when something
happens, they won’t do anything to try and save his life … they’ll
just let him slip away.” He leans heavily against the filing
cabinet. “He deserves better than this, Grace. After all he’s been
through, he deserves the chance and you’re the one to give it to
him. I know you can do it. You did something extraordinary today.
You have a bond I couldn’t see, but I could sense it, and with it
you might be the key to saving that soldier’s life.”

Silence.

“
Colin obviously knows nothing of this,” says
Grace.

“
No.”

“
So … do you … do you think I should tell him about
it?”

Gibbs blows out a deep breath. “I think…you should do what
you think best.”

Chapter 37

“
How the hell do I tell a man that he’s been condemned to
death by the combination of a machine printout, a doctor’s opinion
and his own brother’s signature on a sheet of paper?”

Grace
has had three days to think about it, to worry about it, to exhaust
herself with three nights without sleep and very little food to
nourish her, although several bottles of wine have been sacrificed
to the cause.

She has
actively avoided the meditative state that would take her to garden
and Colin, but even caffeine pills and Red Bull have limited
effectiveness, and so in preparation for accidentally falling
asleep and finding herself where she didn’t want to be right now,
she has put together a catalogue of eminently plausible, if not
provable, excuses.

Luckily,
she hasn’t needed them, but now she’s stayed away long enough and
can put it off no longer. If she doesn’t go and see him very soon,
now he knows how to do it, he might very well come looking for her
instead.

What do I say? Keep it short and sweet and to the point –
wake up or you’re going to die? Or do what I said I would never do
… sugar coat it? Go all around the houses, take the longest, most
tortuous route to a destination neither of us wants to
reach–

“
Hoy! Be careful will ye.”

Colin’s
cry of pain brings her back to the here and now with a start, to
find the comb snagged in his hair.

“
Sorry,” she says as she eases it free.

He has
his arms folded across his chest, his face like thunder as he
tolerates her unwarranted fussiness. “If ye have ta do that, keep
yer mind on the job will ye. Ye’ll have me bald.”

“
Sorry … miles away.”

“
Oh aye. Anywhere interesting?”

Okay, here we go.

She
opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She can’t do it.
Can’t tell him. She kisses the top of his head, holding it for just
that one second too long, which makes him turn to look at
her.

The
smile she’s trying to form for him doesn’t quite work, it looks
forced and painful, and he grasps her wrist and hauls her round to
the front of the chair, the hold firm. “Fit’s wrong?”

“
Nothing.”

He pulls
her down to his level, intense brown eyes searching her sharp blue
ones. “Aye there is. I can see it on yer face. Come on, spill the
beans.”

She
swallows; licks her lips. “I… um… I learned something from Simon,
about you, your treatment–”

“
Talking aboot me again behind my back, eh?” he says. “Ye
needn’t have bothered. I know all ‘boot it.”

“
You do?”

“
Aye. I was here, remember? Those docs have got something
lined up fer me. My last chance saloon they said. Canna remember
exactly what they called it, three letters, E
something-or-other?”

Not what
she was expecting. “Are you sure you didn’t mishear,” she says.
“You sure it wasn’t a D?”

“
Nope. Definitely an E.”

“
Well you’ve just had an EEG. It stands for
electro-encephalogram. That’s what they did when they wired you up
to the machine. Is that what you mean?”

“
Nah, wasn’t that. Sounded similar but…” He frowns,
squinches one eye shut. “Got it. E-
C-T
. Aye, I’m pretty sure that was it.”

ECT.
Three letters, innocuous enough to those who didn’t know what they
meant, but to Grace, who did know, they were guaranteed to make her
heart stop in its beat.

A cold
feeling grows in her stomach and spreads to all her limbs. She
feels her legs turn to water as all the strength leaves them and
she has to hold onto the arm of his wheelchair to stop herself
falling over the edge of the crevasse opening at her
feet.

“
You alright?” Colin says, looking up at her staring down at
him, ashen faced.

She has
to force the word out, doesn’t even try to smile.
“Fine.”

“
So ye ken fit it might be, this… E thing?”

She
nods. “Oh yes.”

“
And do I take it from the fact that ye look like ye’re
‘boot ta boak that it’s no a good thing to have?”

She
shakes her head, biting her lip to stop it trembling. “No, Colin,
it’s not a good thing at all.”

“
Right then,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. “I
think ye’d better tell me all aboot it, don’t you?”

And so
she tells him everything she knows about electro-convulsive
therapy, and he stares at her in muted horror, his face blanched
paper white.

“
I need to speak to Simon Gibbs. Is he on duty?”

The
woman manning the reception desk smiles. “Just a moment and I’ll
check.” A pause. “Yes, he’s here.”

“
Page him for me.”

“
Are you alright, Miss. You look a little–”

“
Just do it!” Grace closes her eyes, counts to five, takes
in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Please, will you page Simon Gibbs for
me? I need to speak with him urgently.”

“
Certainly. If you’ll take a seat please.”

“
Thank you.”

Grace
cannot sit still, fretting and fidgeting. As soon as Gibbs shows
his face in the reception area she grabs him and hauls him into the
file room.

“
Why didn’t you tell me they’re going to give Colin ECT?”
she demands. “For days I’ve been torturing myself with how to come
up with the best way to tell him about the DNR order, almost got to
it too, and then he knocks the wind right out of my sails by
telling me about the visit from Charlie Chaplin and his oppo, and
their–” She makes quote bunnies with her fingers. “Last ditch
effort. They want to fry his brains, Simon! What the hell are you
people thinking?”

Gibbs eases the door closed, shutting out the curious eyes
of a cleaner and the rhythmic
whop whop whop
of her floor polisher.

“
Calm down, Grace–”

“
Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! Do you have any idea
what ECT does to someone’s mind? Are you
trying
to kill him?”

“
Of course not–”

“
So why didn’t you tell me what they were
planning?”

“
I didn’t know!”

“
It must have been in Colin’s notes, or on your fancy
whiteboard. How could you not know?”

“
Because I’ve been off duty for the last two and a half days
and I only found out myself when I came back this morning to find
my plate pretty much overflowing. I haven’t had time–”

“
You should have made time!”

“
Tell me when! A patient killed himself this morning and
I’ve been running around like a blue arsed fly ever since.
I-haven’t-had-the-time.”

Grace
claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh, that’s awful. I didn’t know. I’m
so sorry. What happened?”

“
He hung himself in his bathroom. Ripped up a sheet to make
a noose and fastened it to the towel rail.”

“
Oh my God! The poor man.”

“
Yeah, well…” Gibbs shrugs. “It happens. It’s one of the
crappier parts of the job, especially when it’s not expected. He
was doing so well. Just goes to show, you never can tell what’s
going on in someone’s mind.”

She puts
her hand on Gibbs’ arm. “No, you can’t.”

Silence.

“
What the hell are we going to do about Colin, Simon?” Grace
says, quietly. “You should have seen his face when I told him about
what they were going to do to him. He’d never heard of ECT before
so I’ve had to explain it all to him, and now he’s so horror-struck
he’s probably going to withdraw even further, which might hasten
the instigation of the DNR notice.”

“
There really isn’t anything we can do. I don’t have the
authority or seniority to object, and you don’t have any say in the
matter at all. As far as consent for treatments is concerned, you
don’t even exist. Remember what we talked about, the release Lucas
signed as next of kin when Colin first got here, giving us carte
blanche to do whatever we deemed necessary? It applies to this
too.”

“
A quiet death is one thing, but if he’d known it would ever
involve this level of barbarism, this … torture, he would never
have agreed to it. We have to get it overturned.”

“
We - can’t.”

Grace
hides her face in her hands. “This could kill Colin just as surely
as if you put a pillow over his face and suffocated
him.”