A Home for Broken Hearts, page 24
Hannah moaned. ‘Don’t want to, Ellie, want to stay here. I like it here. Want to sleep now, hold my hand …’
‘I know, I know you want to sleep and you can soon. But first of all I need to see all your hurts. Let me look …’
Hannah grimaced in pain as Ellen awkwardly wrapped her hands around her and heaved her bodily into a sitting position. Hannah’s head lolled on her neck, but she smiled when she caught sight of Matt standing by the door.
‘My hero,’ she grinned, reopening the cut in her lip. ‘Matt rescued me, Ellie, I was lost and he found me, he’s so brave and handsome – like a hero in one of your books …’
Ellen knelt in front of Hannah, placing her hands either side of her head to enable her to look into her sister’s eyes. One was now almost completely closed, the other heavy-lidded. Once long ago Ellen had been the designated first-aider in her department at the museum: she tried desperately to remember something about head injuries. Hannah could be drunk, or she could have taken a serious knock to the head. Gingerly Ellen felt over her sister’s head for more cuts or bumps, but the only one she found was what looked like a fairly superficial cut on her forehead. Heads bleed a lot, Ellen remembered, but even so it was clear that someone or something had hit Hannah very hard.
‘Hannah?’ Ellen struggled to hold her sister’s attention as her chin flopped on to her chest. ‘Hannah! Were you in a fight? Who hurt you?’ Ellen asked her, her eyes tracking the rest of all of her sister’s visible injuries. Her knees were cut and dirty, fingerprint-sized bruises were blossoming on her forearms and there was dirt beneath her broken nails.
‘Don’t know,’ Hannah said blearily, listing towards Ellen, who had to grab her shoulders to keep her upright. ‘Want to sleep.’
‘No, no you can’t sleep. She can’t sleep, can she, Matt? What if she isn’t drunk, what if this is concussion? They always say that you mustn’t go to sleep if you have a head injury.’
‘Shall I make her a coffee?’ Matt offered.
‘Yes, good idea. Make her a strong one.’ He looked relieved to have an excuse to leave the room, and Ellen didn’t blame him.
‘Look, Hannah, I know, OK, I know you’ve lost your job, that you’ve got into some kind of trouble at work. I know all that, you’ve got nothing to hide, OK – so just tell me what happened to you?’
Without warning Hannah flung her arms around Ellen’s neck and dropped her head on to her shoulder, almost sending the pair of them tumbling back on to the carpet. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie,’ she sobbed tearlessly. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
With some difficulty Ellen eased her sister back against the sofa cushions.
‘You don’t have to be sorry,’ she said, fighting the confusion and fear that made her want to run from the room. ‘Whatever’s happened, it’s not your fault. Please, Hannah, I’m trying to work out what to do.’
‘Will you promise to still love me, Ellie, promise me?’ Hannah begged her plaintively. ‘If you still love me then I’ll be OK, I know I’ll be OK.’
‘Of course, silly,’ Ellen told her, remembering with sudden clarity how Hannah used to climb into her bed when she was scared at night. She could have been no more than three and Ellen about eleven. Ellen remembered how she had loved the feeling of Hannah’s small warm body curled up against her, and how protective she had felt of her little sister, wrapping her arms around her and promising that no harm would come to her. Promising her that she would always love her.
‘Come on now, Hannah. Come on, try and remember.’
Hannah pulled her head up, her expression exactly the same as that of the little girl she had once been, caught with her hand in the biscuit tin. ‘I was bored so I went out.’ She frowned painfully. ‘For a lunchtime drink. It was nice, really nice and hot and I sat outside and drank cider. I like drinking, Ellie, when I drink the pain stops for a bit …’ Hannah drifted off again, her eyes fluttering shut.
Ellen wanted to ask her what pain, what pain could her bright, beautiful, successful sister possibly be trying so desperately to ward off? But she held her tongue. As difficult as it was she needed to keep Hannah awake, she needed to know what had happened to her.
‘Hannah? Hannah, look at me?’ Hannah reluctantly wrenched open her good eye. ‘Have you been drinking all afternoon?’ Ellen asked her. ‘Did you fall over, did you get hit by a car?’
Hannah frowned. ‘I don’t think so. Did I?’
‘OK.’ Ellen struggled to know what to say. ‘OK so you were at the pub, sitting in the sun and then what happened?’
‘Oh! I met some people, really nice. Lots of fun.’ Hannah nodded, smiling as she remembered. ‘They bought me drinks, it must have been later on because they’d finished work for the day. City guys, you know. City guys are always the most fun. They bought me champagne and we …’ Hannah hesitated as if unwilling to go on.
‘What, what did you do?’
‘I don’t want to talk about this now, want to sleep, Ellie. Don’t be cross with me any more.’
‘I’m not cross,’ Ellen told her. ‘Please Hannah, I know this is difficult but I think it’s important – did you take anything, or did anyone give you anything?’
‘I danced.’ Hannah frowned. ‘I danced on the tables for them and then …’ Her eyes closed for a second, her face clearing as she fell into a brief precious unconsciousness. Ellen felt guilty for shaking her out of it again.
‘Hannah!’ Ellen’s voice was sharp, her chest heavy with dread. ‘Then what happened?’ Hannah’s head snapped up again.
‘We got thrown out for being rowdy. So me and the boys went somewhere else … where did we go?’ She looked perplexed. ‘I don’t remember.’
‘Boys, you mean the men you were with? How many, Hannah? What were their names?’ Hannah brightened.
‘One was called Nick! Nick, Ellen, can you imagine? I mean I know it’s a common name, but it was nice. It was nice to have a reason to say it out loud again. Nick. Nick. Nick.’
Ellen shook her head, fighting her frustration. ‘What happened with Nick, Hannah?’ Instantly Hannah’s face became a picture of unhappiness.
‘Oh Ellen, I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.’
‘You don’t have to be sorry, I’ve told you that. You don’t have to be sorry about anything, OK? None of this is your fault. Did this Nick have sex with you?’ Ellen pressed on, dreading the answer.
‘Yes,’ Hannah said, eliciting a sob from Ellen. ‘Yes, and I’m sorry, Ellen. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean it to happen, it just did. I didn’t realise what I was doing, or how it would change everything.’
‘Hannah, was it against your will? Was it him that did this to you? Were you … were you raped, Hannah?’
‘Raped? Don’t be so silly, he would never hurt me.’
Ellen sank back on her heels, unable to put together any of the pieces. Hannah had got drunk, met some men, probably taken something, and had sex. But none of that explained the way she looked, her injuries. Had something happened to her later?
‘Then what happened to you, Hannah, how did you get hurt? What about the others, what about the other men that were with this Nick?’
Just then Matt reappeared with a mug of steaming coffee.
‘I’m sorry I was so long, I thought I’d better make real coffee, thought it would be more effective than instant,’ he mumbled, unable to look either woman in the eye. ‘OK, I’ll get out of your way, shall I?’ he offered.
‘Would you stay?’ Ellen asked him, her green eyes large. ‘Please.’
Unwilling to leave her to deal with this alone, as much as he might have wanted to, Matt nodded and sat down in the armchair opposite the sofa, folding his hands and dropping his head as if braced in prayer.
‘Hannah, you need to try and remember what happened tonight. After you left the pub with Nick and the others, what did you do then?’
‘We went for a walk!’ Hannah seemed pleased with herself. ‘The boys said I could do with some fresh air and we went for a walk, in the park. I suppose that must have been how I got so muddy.’
‘And you had sex with this man?’ Ellen asked her again.
‘Oh no, no.’ Hannah shook her head slowly, contradicting herself completely. ‘No, they wanted to but I didn’t. I said I was tired and I was going to get a cab and go home but then … I think I fell asleep, that’s right, I was so, so tired. And when I woke up again I was alone.’ Hannah sighed. ‘I’m still so tired, Can I go to sleep now, Ellie, can I? Will you hug me while I’m asleep?’
‘No Hannah, listen, I need you to look at me and listen to me for a minute, OK?’
Hannah focused her gaze on Ellen.
‘Hannah, I think … I think you’ve been attacked, beaten up and maybe even raped. I think we need to call the police and an ambulance, OK? I’m going to do that now.’
‘No, no.’ Hannah shook her head again. ‘No. I just need to sleep, Ellie. I’m very tired now.’
‘I know, but we need to get you looked at and we need to find out who hurt you like this.’
‘Why?’ Hannah blinked.
‘So the police can arrest them!’ Ellen told her.
‘No. I’m OK, I’m fine. I don’t mind the pain. I deserve the pain, the pain is nothing at all, because now you know. Now you understand and you’ve promised to still love me so everything is fine. So that makes all of this OK. Sleep now. Do you know, I feel like I haven’t slept in almost a year. Not since …’ Hannah drifted off.
‘No, Hannah, this isn’t OK. Hannah?’ Hannah crumpled sideways, her head thudding against the cushioned arm of the sofa. ‘Hannah? Wake up. I’m going to call an ambulance, OK, and the police.’
‘No!’ Hannah suddenly sprang awake at Ellen’s words. ‘No, no, no, no, Ellie, please, please don’t. Please. I don’t want the hospital, I don’t want the police. I just want to sleep. I just want to stay here with you. I’m fine, Ellie, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.’ For the first time that evening she looked anxious and scared. ‘Please, Ellie. Please let me stay here with you, don’t make me go to the hospital. I’m fine, I’m really fine. It’s just like that time I fell out of the tree and you thought I was dead, I was fine then, wasn’t I? I was fine.’ A dry sob tore through Hannah’s throat. ‘I don’t want to talk about it any more, Ellie. Don’t make me.’
Resolute, Hannah inserted her thumb in her mouth and dragging a cushion across her belly, drew her legs up beneath her and closed her eyes.
Ellen looked at Matt. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she said bleakly. ‘Look at her. Something clearly awful has happened. Someone’s hurt her and I don’t know who or how or why. Should we call an ambulance?’
Matt looked at the slumbering woman.
‘Maybe we should wait, let her sleep. Wait for her to wake up and see if she can remember anything else. It’s possible she drank far too much and fell over a few too many times on her way home. She looks bad but she was talking OK, and she didn’t seem in too much pain, she didn’t seem to have any trouble breathing.’
‘But what if she’s got internal bleeding, or a brain injury?’ Ellen said anxiously. ‘We should call an ambulance, they’ll take her to hospital, X-ray her and things.’ She realised that it would be a relief to pass her sister into someone else’s capable hands.
Matt bit his lip, leaning forward, resting his wrists on his knees.
‘If we take her to hospital now, they’ll call in the police. When I was a cub reporter they sent me to cover this case of a young schoolgirl attacked by a load of teenagers. I talked to her parents. They said that what she went through after the attack was almost as bad as what those lads did to her. If we take Hannah in now, they’ll be wanting to test her for all sorts, gather evidence. She’ll have to talk to the police, give statements. Hand in her clothes, they won’t let her wash or sleep. Sure, she’s messed up, but we don’t know that anything bad happened yet. Do you really want to put her through all that if she’s just had too much to drink and a bit of a wild night out with some guy she picked up? And she really doesn’t want to go, you saw that.’
Ellen gestured at Hannah. ‘This was not a bit of a wild night out, Matt. You can see that.’
Matt looked again at Hannah, her head buried in her folded arms, her bruised and bloody legs drawn up and tucked under her.
‘I don’t know what to say, Ellen,’ he said. Ellen’s face was etched with worry and indecision. He had a sudden urge to go to her and put his arms around her, to tell her not to worry, to lean on him and he would look after her. ‘Call your doctor, there’ll be an on-call GP who will come to the house. At least then when they’ve had a look at her we’ll have a better idea of what to do.’
A wash of relief swept over Ellen as she looked back at her slumbering sister. Of course, of course if she called an ambulance now she would be expected to go with Hannah to the hospital. She tried to imagine accompanying her sister into the clammy night, sitting beside her as the ambulance sped along, listing from one side to the other, the siren ringing in her ears. Ellen felt every muscle in her body contract in panic. She’d been in the back of an ambulance before, and that time it had been her strapped to the stretcher, frightened and alone as the paramedics talked over her head and she knew that whatever happened she had lost her baby at just twelve weeks. But that was years ago, Ellen told herself. Nearly seven years since the ectopic pregnancy had ruptured her Fallopian tube, since she had almost bled to death and her chances of conceiving again were slashed to nil when they discovered that her other tube was blocked. Seven years since she’d woken up in hospital alone, waiting terrified for Nick to arrive back from a business trip in France, frightened of telling him that their dream of a big family had been ended, frightened about disappointing him again.
Ellen had been out of the house many times since then, and she hadn’t been scared of unfamiliar people or places, even if her excursions had gradually dwindled down. And even now, even though Charlie was right and she had spent the best part of a year indoors, that didn’t mean she couldn’t go out. She could if she wanted to, if she had to. But when she looked at her bruised and battered sister she realised how glad she was that she didn’t have to test that theory. Not yet, anyway.
‘I would feel happier if she would go to hospital,’ the doctor told Ellen gravely as they stood in the hallway. It had taken over an hour for the emergency GP to arrive and that was only after Ellen had pleaded with the dispatch handler, who’d told her after she’d described Hannah’s injuries that she had to take her to hospital. Eventually Ellen had got the help she wanted, but only after she’d threatened action if anything happened to Hannah due to lack of medical attention.
‘But I can’t make her go,’ the doctor sighed. ‘If she is competent and conscious, it’s up to her. She’s groggy, yes, but there is no sign of concussion or internal bleeding as far as I can tell. That doesn’t mean it’s not there, though.’ She handed Ellen a prescription. ‘There are no broken bones and these anti-inflammatories will help with the bruising and pain, but I don’t want you to give her anything for at least another six hours, just in case there is anything I haven’t spotted. If she becomes unconscious, or anything changes for the worse, you will have no choice but to call an ambulance. Even if she doesn’t get worse, try and persuade her to go to hospital for more extensive checks once she’s sobered up. That’s my recommendation, there’s nothing I can do about it if she won’t follow it.’
Ellen nodded, acknowledging the disclaimer. She took the prescription and folded it first in half and then quarters. She was aware the exhausted and dishevelled young woman was desperate to leave, but there was one more question she had to ask her.
‘Doctor, do you think that … do you think she’s been raped?’
The doctor dropped her head. ‘I’m only able to make a judgement on where your sister allowed me to examine her, so I can’t comment. I would say that these injuries have been inflicted on her by another person. They aren’t the kind sustained in a car crash or from falling over.’
‘She wants to have a bath,’ Ellen said. ‘But if she does then there’ll be no evidence, will there?’
The doctor regarded Ellen with bloodshot brown eyes. ‘Look, my day job is a police GP down at the local nick. I deal with this sort of thing all the time and to be honest less than fifty per cent of rape victims report what’s happened to the police, and of those that do less than ten per cent of cases result in a conviction. If there was any forensic evidence it would only prove that your sister had sex. If the police felt they had enough for a case, and if they tracked down who might be responsible, which is a big if, she’d be asked about her drinking, her drug consumption. About spending all day drinking with the people who might have attacked her, or might not have. Even now it’s still her word against theirs, if that’s what happened, and we don’t know that it did. I’m not even sure she does.’
‘So you’re saying I should let her have a bath and do nothing?’ Ellen asked her, incredulous. ‘That whoever did this to her just gets to carry on with their life like nothing’s happened?’
‘I’m saying that one way or another your sister has had a hell of a day, and she still might be seriously injured. Let her do whatever makes her feel better and keep an eye on her for any signs of deterioration – if she starts vomiting or blacking out, has difficulty breathing or any belly pain, and make sure you look out for signs of her stomach becoming rigid or swollen.’
‘Thank you for coming,’ Ellen said politely as she watched the GP hurry up the path on her way to the next emergency. Bleakly she shut the door on the outside world and leant her back against it.
‘Here.’ Matt emerged from the living room and nodded at the folded paper in Ellen’s hand. ‘Is that a prescription?’ Ellen nodded. ‘There’s that pharmacy at the twenty-four-hour Sainsbury’s, isn’t there. I’ll go and get it.’
