Losing You (36 page)

Detesting Will for simply turning away, she felt momentarily tempted to tell him to go and talk to Farraday alone while she stayed with Lauren. However, there was nothing to be gained from that. She needed to hear what the surgeon had to say, though God knew she’d like to put it off for ever, unless it was good news, of course. That she could deal with, even if it was only that they were going to continue with their plans to remove the ventilator.

Claudia Buckley led them to the very end of the main hospital corridor with all its nightingale wards spread out along one side, like barracks, and various units and pharmacies opening off the other. Finally they reached the neuro-centre reception. Mr Farraday’s office was tucked in amongst a cluster of other offices at the back, presumably all set aside for surgeons and their administrative staff.

‘Mr and Mrs Scott,’ he said, getting to his feet as his PA opened the door. ‘Thank you for coming. I thought it would be easier to talk away from the ward.’ After thanking Claudia, he indicated two chairs at the guest side of his desk, one large leather wing-back and a less grand upright. Emma found herself in the wing-back, and felt suddenly trapped between Will and the window. There was almost no room to move in here, so little space for a surgeon who performed such vital work, and slightly depressing too with its dusty tomes and need of fresh paint.

Farraday’s expression was grave as he folded his hands
on the desk and looked from one of them to the other. ‘As you’ve no doubt ascertained for yourselves,’ he began, ‘the emergency procedure carried out on Lauren earlier has once again reduced the pressure on her brain, which has returned her to the position she was in before.’

Emma swallowed dryly and was aware of Will’s fists tightening on his knees.

Farraday continued gently, ‘I had hoped that this conversation wouldn’t prove necessary, but I’m sorry to tell you that the outlook for your daughter is becoming increasingly less optimistic.’

Emma’s heart folded in on itself. She sat back, unable to breathe.

‘It’s highly likely,’ Farraday pressed on, ‘that if Lauren does come out of the coma she will suffer from some long-term neuro disabilities, either physical, intellectual, or a combination of both. In other words, her quality of life could be greatly reduced.’

Emma was reeling; this was the wrecking ball she’d sensed heading towards her for over a week, the ball she’d tried desperately to ignore, and now here it was smashing her whole life to pieces.

Will sat rigidly, seeming ready to break apart.

‘Should something like this happen again,’ Farraday continued, his grey eyes full of compassion, ‘I need to know if it’s your wish for us to prolong her life at all costs?’

‘Yes, yes, absolutely,’ Emma jumped in.

‘No, it’s not our wish,’ Will told him roughly. ‘We can’t allow her to ...’

‘Stop!’ Emma was filled with panic. ‘What are you talking about?’ she shouted, rounding on Will. ‘We’re being asked to take a decision on whether or not to let her go ...’

‘I know what we’re being asked, and I’m saying that for Lauren’s sake we have to allow nature to take its course.’

Emma could hardly believe what she was hearing. ‘No! Never!’ she cried, leaping to her feet. ‘Do you hear me? I am
never
going to give up on my daughter. She’s still alive – if nature had meant to take her it would have done by now.’

‘That’s the point,’ Will argued heatedly, ‘it’s trying, and medical science is preventing it.’

‘No,
she’s
preventing it, I know she is. She’s hanging on and if you give her the chance she’ll show you that she can come through this.’

‘But in what kind of state? The doctor’s just told you what’s going to happen; she’s brain-damaged, damaged, Emma, to a point that even if she lives she’s never going to be the same again.’

‘Don’t you dare say that!’ Emma wept, tears streaking down her face. ‘You don’t know for certain; nobody does.’

‘You surely to God don’t think the doctor’s making it up? He’s the expert, he knows what he’s talking about and the impact she suffered ...’

‘I am not having this conversation,’ she raged. ‘My daughter is still alive and as long as she is I will
never
give up on her.

‘It’s not only your decision, she’s my daughter too and I’m not prepared to subject her to the kind of life she’d hate if she was given the choice. Think of who she is, Emma, what she’s like, and then ask yourself if you really, truly believe she’ll ever be that girl again.’

‘Of course I believe it. Have you never heard of miracle recoveries, and when did you ever know someone who was more of a miracle? She can do this, Will. She’ll come back to us ... Won’t she?’ she said desperately to Farraday. ‘There is a chance, isn’t there? You’re not telling us that there’s no hope at all.’

‘What I’m saying,’ he replied gently, ‘is that if we have to operate again her quality of life will most probably be greatly reduced, if it isn’t already.’

Emma was trying to back away, but the chair wouldn’t allow it.

‘I understand this has come as a terrible blow to you both,’ Farraday continued, ‘so I think you should take some time to think things through and try to discuss the situation rationally, always keeping in mind what’s best for Lauren.’

‘I’m her mother, do you really think I don’t know what’s best for her?’

‘Keeping her alive as a vegetable isn’t what she’d want,’ Will seethed through his teeth. ‘And think of what it’s going to mean for you if she is that badly damaged. Your own life will virtually be over; you’ll have to devote all your time to taking care of her ...’

‘And you think I wouldn’t do that for my own baby?’ Emma was close to hysteria. ‘I gave birth to her, I’ve raised her and I’m damned well going to give her the chance to prove you wrong ...’

‘This isn’t about
you
, it’s about her ...’

‘Don’t you dare throw that at me. Everything I do, everything I am is about Lauren. Her life is a thousand times more precious to me than my own, and I just hope to God that she never finds out that you, her own father, were prepared to let her die ...’

Trying to calm things down, Farraday said, ‘It might not come to that ...’

‘But the point is,’ Will raged on, ‘it might and chances are it
will
.’

‘You don’t know that,’ Emma almost screamed.

‘She’s not going to have the brain capacity to understand anything, let alone why she’s in the state she is,’ Will cried savagely. ‘She’s gone, Emma, she’s not ...’ his breath caught, ‘she’s not ...’ As he started to break down Emma felt so fractured, so helpless that she hardly knew where she was. ‘She’s gone,’ he whispered wretchedly, ‘you have to make yourself accept that.’

Turning to Farraday, Emma said desperately, ‘I’m begging you, please don’t let her go. She’s hardly had the chance to win this fight ...’

‘She’s already lost it!’ Will shouted angrily.

‘No!’ Emma seethed, banging her fists into him.

Catching them, he said, ‘Why won’t you listen? What is the point of putting us through any more of this when we’re never going to have the Lauren we know again?’

‘Lauren is still Lauren, no matter how sick or damaged she is, and I don’t care whether she can play the flute, sing, dance or even walk down the street, she will always be my daughter and I will
never
give up on her.’

Will looked helplessly at Farraday. ‘Who has the legal right here?’ he asked.

‘It belongs to both parents,’ Farraday replied.

‘But if we don’t agree, you can’t let her go?’ Emma insisted.

Farraday shook his head. ‘If it’s your wish, Mrs Scott, to prolong life at all costs, then that is what we’ll do.’

Going to the door Will tore it open, then turned back, his face quivering with grief and outrage. ‘I’m going to fight you on this, Emma,’ he snarled. ‘I am not going to stand by and let you put my daughter through the hell of a living death ...’

‘You’re not thinking about Lauren,’ she yelled, ‘you’re only thinking about yourself, and how this is disrupting your other life with your other family. Well go back to them, Will. Run to them now and forget about us, because we don’t need you here.’

Devastation was written all over him as he glared back at her.

‘You’ve got your other children,’ Emma sobbed, collapsing against the desk. ‘Lauren is all I have ...’

Coming round to help her up, Farraday glanced at Will, but Will didn’t move.

‘I know she can make it,’ Emma gasped as Farraday eased her to her feet. ‘OK, she might not be exactly the same as before, but between us, Lauren and I are going to fight for her life, and if
you
,’ she shouted at Will, ‘even begin to fight for her death then I’m warning you now, one day you will have to look her in the eye and explain to her why you did it.’

‘I’m only thinking of what she would want if she was here now, and able to speak for herself,’ he shouted back. ‘She wouldn’t be as afraid of death as you are if she understood the alternative – and if she knew what you were thinking she’d hate you for forcing her to carry on, just because you’re so terrified of being on your own. Well you are on your own, Emma, and so sad and wrapped up in your own self-pity that you’ve come to a point where you’d rather turn your own daughter into a vegetable and live through her that way than have to face up to who you really are.’

‘You’re such a fool,’ she choked. ‘You can’t even see that it’s you who’s terrified, not me, because of how it would impact on your life and your image to have a daughter who’s not quite as perfect as the one you have now. Well, don’t you worry, you can carry on with your other family, while I go on loving Lauren and wanting her however she might be ...’

‘Then do it –
do it
– and in five, ten years from now when you’re worn out and sick to your soul of watching your daughter suffer, or sitting by her bed wiping up her drool, don’t ever forget that you were the one who put her there,’ and without even saying goodbye to Farraday, Will turned on his heel and left.

Chapter Nineteen

JOLYON CRANE WAS
looking both amused and impressed as Charlie finished presenting the defence he’d put together for Oliver with a triumphant flourish. ‘Well, you’ve certainly been doing your homework,’ he declared amiably. ‘I’m not sure when I last had so much case law thrown at me with such enthusiasm, but it was all relevant and apparently carefully researched.’

Charlie’s youthful shoulders expanded with pride.

Russ glanced at Oliver, who’d said virtually nothing since they’d arrived at Jolyon’s office. He knew only too well how much hope his son had invested in Charlie’s findings. God knew, he’d weighed in with every ounce of his own, but he also knew that no matter how logical and irrefutable Charlie was managing to make this sound, the idea that they might get the charges dismissed altogether was nothing short of delusional.

‘I should tell you, Charlie,’ Jolyon continued, ‘that special reasons and duress are certainly the line of defence we’re intending to take. If we can make it work, there’s a chance we could get the drink-drive charge thrown out at the magistrates’ hearing. This depends quite a lot on your mother, of course, and whether she’s prepared to admit that she was threatening suicide when she rang you, Oliver, and I don’t believe those actual words were used, were they?’

Oliver blanched slightly as he shook his head.

‘There’s also going to be the question of why you didn’t call your father, or a neighbour, someone who was close by who could have reacted more promptly – thereby saving yourself the necessity of driving under the influence.’

‘I thought,’ Charlie said before Oliver could speak, ‘that
we could explain how things are with our mother, her refusal to admit she has a problem, her erratic behaviour and the fact that Oliver wouldn’t have had a number for anyone who lives near her. Dad was in Gloucestershire at the time, and couldn’t have gone anyway because he’d had a drink ...’ He grimaced. ‘We’re starting to sound like a family of alcoholics, so I guess we’ll have to phrase it more carefully than I’m managing right now, but the point is, Oliver thought Mum was going to do something stupid, he panicked, leapt into his car without thinking, which is all perfectly true, no one’s making anything up here ... And actually, he did stop at one point to try and call Dad but he couldn’t get a reception. That’s got to count in his favour, surely?’

Jolyon didn’t disagree. ‘Except there’s no record of the call, and even ...’

‘Because it didn’t go through, but it’s still on his mobile, so the time that he tried is recorded, isn’t it?’ Charlie turned to Oliver.

‘I don’t know,’ Oliver admitted. ‘I’ll have to check. Do failed calls register?’ he asked.

Not knowing the answer, Charlie turned back to Jolyon. ‘We’ll find out,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I think we can go on to describe what a toll Mum’s drinking has taken on the family, not least in trying to keep her problem out of the public eye. For her sake, you understand, not ours. We can also bring up how she helped run the golden angel project, which everyone knows about, and which shows that she has a good side. And she’s definitely not a bad mother, just a sad example of someone who’s lost their way through drink and depression and who’s got us all, me, Dad and Oliver, so that none of us are thinking straight.’

As he listened Russ could only feel thankful that neither Charlie, nor Oliver, had been around when he’d called in at Sylvie’s at the weekend. He’d found her as drunk as he’d ever seen her, with Connie trying desperately to wrest the bottle from her hands, while some fellow drunk she must have picked up the night before skulked about in the background grabbing his clothes and making good his escape. Sylvie’s abusive language, as she’d warned Russ
and Connie to stay away from her, had been as chilling to hear as her appalling physical state was to see. If it got any worse she really was going to kill herself, and probably not intentionally.

The strain on Connie was too much, he’d realised. At her age she shouldn’t have to be struggling with the demons unleashed by Sylvie’s addiction. She’d insisted she could cope, but it was obvious to Russ that she couldn’t, which was why he’d sent her home with instructions to try and get the good night’s sleep she’d clearly lost. He’d stayed with Sylvie himself after that, never letting her out of his sight, even standing over her when she went to the bathroom. He knew how skilled she was at hiding her poison, and he hadn’t been prepared to allow her another drop no matter how viciously she excoriated him, nor how violently she tried to attack him. The bruises he’d come away with on Sunday were, thankfully, not visible, but he suspected her own would be by now, given how heavily she had fallen against the furniture as she’d staggered about the place, eventually crashing into the bath when he’d tried to put her in it after she’d thrown up all over him. What a blessed relief it had been when she’d finally passed out.