The One You Love (3 page)

‘Twenty minutes,’ Lizzy confirmed. ‘Maybe he’s having trouble getting in touch with the others.’

‘Maybe. You know, Lizzy,’ Emma said, as the man on the trolley disappeared around the corner, ‘I really hate these places. It just brings back all the bad memories.’

‘Of what happened to your mum?’ Lizzy asked.

Emma nodded. ‘This was the hospital where she died, of the breast cancer. I came here every day for four weeks, watching her change from being the most energetic person I ever knew into an empty shell. When she died, I said I’d never come back here. I guess I thought it would be too painful, returning to the scene.’

‘It’s always painful being reminded that someone you love is gone, no matter how long after the event.’

‘It’s her birthday tomorrow.’ Emma gave a painful smile at the thought. ‘She would have been fifty.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Em.’ Lizzy reached over and put an arm on her back. ‘No wonder this is all bringing back bad memories. If there’s anything I can do – tomorrow, that is – let me know. You need to be with people at a time like this.’

‘Thanks,’ Emma replied. ‘Back when Mum was dying Dan was a massive help. Especially with what happened with Dad. When Dad sank into a depression and didn’t want to know, Dan stuck by me. It helped me realise just how special he was. He carried me through it all. But now he’s gone.’

‘He’ll be back.’

‘I’m really scared, Lizzy,’ Emma said, lowering her voice. ‘What if Dan and Richard did have a fight, and Richard fell and hit his head? What if Dan killed Richard by mistake? I mean, I don’t even know what Richard was doing there – he said he couldn’t make the stag party because he was away on business.’

‘Emma,’ Lizzy said, reaching across again to comfort her. ‘We don’t know that Richard is dead. We’ve got to hope for the best. And you’ve got to believe that Dan couldn’t have done this. You said it yourself.’

‘But if he didn’t do it, then where is he?’

‘I don’t know,’ Lizzy admitted.

‘Emma?’

Emma looked up and saw a fresh-faced man, dressed in a blue shirt, tie and smart trousers. He didn’t look much older than her. The stethoscope around his neck told her that he was a doctor.

‘Yes, that’s me.’

‘Dr Hennessey.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’m the registrar looking after Richard.’

Emma took his hand, her heartbeat quickening in anticipation. ‘Is Richard okay?’ Dr Hennessey maintained his poker face. ‘I think it’s better if we talk next door,’ he said, leading the way into a private room.

‘There is good news and bad,’ he began, perching on the very edge of his chair, leaning forward and glancing at the door every few seconds as if readying himself for a hasty departure. Emma scrutinised him for clues as to just how bad the bad news was going to be, but his expression gave away nothing. At that instant she thought how not all acting was done on the stage or in front of the camera.

She and Lizzy waited for a painful moment while Dr Hennessey gathered his thoughts, steepling his fingers with the point touching his top lip. The air in the room was stiflingly hot and stale: warm enough to make it feel as if the orange plastic chairs on which they were sitting were melting.

‘The good news is that Richard is alive,’ announced the doctor, without a hint of celebration. ‘It was touch and go for a time, but the team worked very hard and fortunately Richard also did his fair share of fighting, which always helps.’

‘And the bad news?’ Emma prompted, not really wanting to know the answer but desperate to find out everything and get it over with. She watched the doctor ready himself. For a time she’d toyed with the idea of studying medicine – her grades had been good enough and she liked the idea of helping people – but here and now, empathising with the doctor’s task of breaking bad news, it didn’t seem like such a great job anymore.

‘I’m afraid the bad news is that Richard has slipped into a coma.’

‘Right.’ Emma wasn’t surprised by the revelation. Although she’d hoped it wouldn’t be that serious, the extent of Richard’s injury and the fact that he had remained unconscious throughout the journey to hospital pointed to possible coma. But at least he was still alive.

‘The MRI scan showed that Richard has suffered a subdural haematoma – a bleed between the surface of the skull and the brain. The pressure that this puts the brain under can lead to coma.’

‘But he is going to be all right?’ Lizzy asked in an anguished voice. ‘He’ll come out of it?’

‘We’ll just have to watch and wait,’ stated the doctor. ‘I’m afraid it’s impossible to predict what’s going to happen with any certainty. But it’s worth saying that a large proportion of patients recover well from coma.’

‘But some never do,’ Emma said flatly.

‘Some never do recover, that’s true,’ he admitted. ‘But a lot do. I know it’s difficult, but you must try and be as positive as possible. The first few weeks are crucial, really. I hear that Richard has no immediate family, apart from his brother?’

Emma nodded. ‘His parents died when he was young.’

‘Well, it’s good that he’s got friends to be by his side. There’s plenty of research that shows patients in coma respond to external stimuli: familiar voices, smells. You could help greatly in his recovery. As I said, just try and stay positive, even if you don’t feel like it.’

‘We’ll be there for him,’ Emma said.

‘’Course we will,’ Lizzy affirmed.

***

Will watched from the hospital car park as an ambulance swung into the drop-off area. The back opened and a young girl, limping on her left leg, was helped through the main entrance by two paramedics – yet another human being with their life in the hands of strangers. He took a last long drag on the cigarette before stamping it out. He hadn’t had a cigarette in over a year, but he’d needed one tonight. Looking up at the clear night sky, he tried to pick out a star. But the lights leaking from the city obscured the celestial view.

He thought back to the item he had found next to Richard’s body.

What the hell am I going to tell her?

Pulling out his mobile, he punched in the number and took a steadying breath, feeling light-headed and nauseous.

The phone was answered on the second ring.

‘Hi, it’s me, Will,’ he said, leaning back against the wall for support. ‘Something terrible has happened. And I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do about it.’

4

He had watched from the car across the road, sunk down into his seat for camouflage, as the ambulance arrived. It was traumatic, seeing Emma in such a state without being able to do anything about it. All he’d wanted to do was run over and wrap his arms around her, pull her close and tell her everything was going to be okay. She looked so vulnerable, tears flowing down her cheeks, and knowing that he couldn’t protect her from the pain made him feel sick inside. He was the one who should be comforting her, not that backstabbing brother of hers. But he knew that now wasn’t the right time. Things had to be planned carefully – they couldn’t be rushed.

He moved into the kitchen, taking the small knife from the block, and then headed for the bathroom, stepping over piles of old newspapers and stray pizza boxes. He needed a release from the pain.

He peeled back his shirtsleeve, right up to the shoulder, and stood in front of the mirror.

How had it come to this?

As he tensed his arm in readiness for the cut he thought back to all he had seen.

‘Don’t worry, Em,’ he said to his own reflection, the blade of the knife glistening under the bathroom light. ‘Everything is going to be okay.’

***

‘Will, where’ve you been?’ Emma said, as her brother appeared from around the corner. He looked even more exhausted than before he left.

‘I went for a walk.’ Will slumped into the seat with a thud. ‘I didn’t plan to, but I just ended up walking off down the road. Before I knew it, I was up near Euston Station. You know, I never realised just how many really strange people there are around the streets of London – maybe I’m just on edge, but it didn’t feel safe out there. If it wasn’t a homeless guy it was a potential drug dealer or gangster. Then on the way back I nearly walked under a bus – think I was in some kind of trance.’

‘You do look pretty rough,’ Lizzy commented.

‘Thanks,’ he said, deadpan, staring at the ceiling. ‘I feel worse.’

‘Have you been smoking?’ Emma asked, sniffing the air.

Will put his hands up in the air. ‘Busted. I only had the one though – I succumbed to temptation but then threw the rest of the packet in the bin. Promise.’ He did a mock Cub Scout salute of honour.

‘You got hold of the others okay?’ Emma said, letting the cigarette issue drop. Will didn’t have to justify anything to her, and the dangers of smoking were the least of their worries at the moment.

‘Yeah,’ he replied, looking up at the ceiling tiles. ‘It took me a while to get any sense out of them – both groups are pretty drunk. They thought it was all a big wind-up at first. Sorry, Em, but I ended up having to tell them the truth. Well, as much as we know, anyway.’

‘That’s okay,’ Emma replied. ‘They had to find out sometime.’

‘It certainly burst their balloon. They wanted to come to the hospital, but I told them there are enough drunks here already in A&E. Now everyone’s going home.’

‘You did the best thing,’ Emma said. ‘We can keep them up-to-date with what’s happening from here.’

‘No news about Richard, then?’ Will rubbed his eyes as if he was trying to scoop out his eyeballs.

‘There is,’ Emma replied. ‘The doctor came along before. He’s alive, but he’s in a coma.’

‘Shit.’ Will shook his head. ‘Is he going to be okay?’

‘They said they’re still doing tests and won’t know how bad it is for a while yet. The doctor said something about a bleed on the brain.’

‘Bloody hell. You know, even though it didn’t look good, I thought he was going to be all right. I thought we might have done enough.’

‘We might have done,’ Lizzy said. ‘The doctor said there was every chance.’

‘I hope so,’ Will said, ‘I really do. I assume you haven’t heard from Dan yet?’

Emma shook her head.

‘Come here, sis.’ Will put an arm around her and pulled her close. ‘No matter what happens, we’ll be here for you.’

‘Like last time,’ Emma muttered.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘like last time.’

***

‘Emma, wake up,’ Lizzy said. ‘Richard’s back.’

Emma opened her eyes and it took a few seconds for reality to break through. She glanced around, first at Lizzy, then at the hospital reception desk opposite, where a couple of nurses were filling out forms. Realising where she was, and why, was a terrible feeling.

‘What time is it?’ she said, kneading at her stiff neck.

‘Nearly one o’clock in the morning,’ said Will, flattening down strands of hair at the back of his head – a sure sign that he, too, had been unable to stay awake.

‘By now we should officially be completely plastered in one of London’s tackiest nightclubs, dancing to Kylie,’ Lizzy said. ‘I had it all planned.’

‘Funny how things don’t turn out how you expected,’ Will noted. ‘Who would have thought we’d be sitting in a hospital tonight?’

‘Where’s Richard?’ asked Emma.

‘A nurse just came by,’ Lizzy replied. ‘She said we can go in and see him. They’ve put him into the private room over there.’ She pointed to the room in the corner.

‘Did they say how he is?’ Emma stood up and tried to look through the windows that wrapped around the room.

Lizzy shook her head. ‘She didn’t say anything.’

But the nurse didn’t have to say anything - just one look at Richard lying in the bed, hooked up to a ventilator that controlled his breathing, told its own story.

In many ways he looked more ill now than he had done back at the apartment. His head was bandaged, hiding the injury, and his face was ashen.

‘Can he hear things?’ Emma asked the nurse, keeping her eyes trained on Richard. As she approached the bed she half expected his closed eyes to snap open like in a horror movie.

But of course they didn’t.

‘We don’t know really,’ the nurse admitted. ‘But people who have come out of coma do say that they remember things from when they were unconscious, so it’s always better to assume that they can hear everything you say. We also recommend that you try not to talk about the person indirectly whilst you’re in the same room as them.’

‘Sorry,’ Emma said. ‘I didn’t realise.’

‘It’s okay,’ the nurse said. ‘You’ll find it strange at first, but you’ll get used to it.’

‘How long have we got with him?’

‘You can have a few minutes, but then I’m afraid the doctor will need to come back in. Sorry.’

‘That’s okay.’ Emma stepped close to the bed and grasped the handrail. Lizzy paused just behind her, while Will stood at the head of the bed, his face solemn. ‘It’s just good to see him.’