One Day With You, page 12
But gigs and nights out weren’t the only priority for her and Peter. There were no credit cards or any of that nonsense back then, so they’d put money by every week into a tea caddy in the kitchen cupboard to save for the next trip. She’d eat egg and spam for months if it meant she could have an extra week in Palma Nova every year.
It was only when she hit her mid-twenties that she started to think it might be time to start a family. She’d been using one of those new-fangled cap things as contraception, so she’d cut it up into little pieces and put it in the bin – God forbid she’d left it whole, and a fox had got into the black bin bags outside and trailed it through Weirbridge. She’d never have been able to show her face in the village again.
Anyway, when it came time for the summer holidays again, there was still no baby, so off they’d gone. Palma Nova. That winter, still no sign of a pregnancy, so there was a wee week away in December so they’d have lovely tans for Christmas. The following year, still not pregnant. Back off to the beach. It had gone on like that for years, until she’d had enough of people telling her just to be patient. Worries rising, she’d gone to the doctor’s, had all the tests, only to be told that she was perfectly fine. Nothing wrong with her tubes at all. They were delighted and relieved, until a couple more years passed and Peter finally gave in to her pleading to get checked. Low sperm count. That was that then.
She’d thought long and hard about adoption, but Peter was so bloody optimistic that even though his swimmer volume was low, he’d have one wee Rambo (as he put it) that would find a way through.
That wee Rambo never made it. And by the time he’d accepted that, they were too old to adopt and they’d ran out of options.
That was life, wasn’t it? You didn’t always get what you asked for. Nancy had decided she could either be bitter or get on with making the most of things, and when it came down to it, that wasn’t really a choice, was it?
Anyway, she’d been an auntie and pal to half the kids in the village when she moved from the council canteen to the school dinner hall and she’d seen thirty years of Weirbridge kids coming through those doors, served up tens of thousands of scoops of mash and made enough gravy to float an oil tanker.
Noah Clark was one of the best of them. She’d had such a soft spot for that kid. It didn’t surprise her in the least that the sweet wee thing he’d been back then had grown up to be a doctor. He’d always had that caring side to his nature. He could be a wee rascal, like all of them sometimes, especially when he was with that Max Walker.
He was another lovely boy, but, good Lord, he was wild. Those parents of his gave him everything and let him do as he pleased. Spoiled rotten he was. Nancy always thought it was to make up for the fact that they weren’t much as parents. Always out. Always partying. And she knew exactly what was going on in that house next door when other couples started to arrive on a Saturday night. Car keys in the ashtray. The whole village knew it. They’d invited her and Peter over one night, but Nancy had declined and had a lie-down to recover from the suggestion. Bloody cheek. As if Georgina Fancy Pants Walker hadn’t done enough damage in Nancy’s life already.
Nancy shut that thought down. If she did make it to the school reunion tonight, she wasn’t going to go there lugging memories from fifty years ago.
The front doors of the maternity wing slid open as she reached them and she stepped out into the chilly February afternoon. At least it wasn’t raining. She could handle the strange looks she was getting for her outfit, but she couldn’t handle dragging a dress full of soaking wet feathers around.
Dodging cars, she crossed over the narrow road that separated the main building from the maternity wing, then went past the front doors of A&E and into the main entrance of the building. There, she scanned the huge information board in the foyer.
Paediatrics. Level three.
Past the packed café, she nipped into a lift, where there was already a family of four waiting for the doors to close.
There was a little boy of about five at the front, holding his mum’s hand.
‘Are you a bird?’ he asked, with nonchalant curiosity.
‘Sorry,’ his horrified mum blurted. ‘Aiden, shush.’
‘That’s a perfectly understandable question,’ Nancy reassured the mum with a smile, before turning her attention back to inquisitive Aiden. ‘Nope, a superhero. Bird Woman,’ she informed him, in her best matter-of-fact tone. ‘Only, I’ve been running about fighting crime all day and my feet are killing me, so that’s why I put my slippers on. Nobody ever thinks superheroes get sore feet, but let me tell you, they do.’
He gazed up at her, awestruck. In a mind that accepted Batman, Spiderman and Antman, Bird Woman was perfectly reasonable. ‘My dad gets sore feet when he runs a marvelon.’
‘Marathon,’ his dad corrected him with a grin, obviously enjoying the conversation.
‘Yeah, I gave them up,’ she whispered to the kid. ‘Too easy. Much more fun chasing bad guys with Spiderman and Batman.’
His gasp was louder than the noise of the lift doors opening when they got to their floor. Holding a hands on hips superhero pose, and a chin up expression of power, Nancy waited for them to close again, then went back to her original mission. Tracking down Noah Clark to find out if he knew where the hell Max Walker was hiding.
Sweet Mary and Joseph, she couldn’t even imagine how poor Tress was feeling.
The whole confusion with Max’s work saying he had a day off? Something was very wrong here. Of course, there was the obvious assumption that he was up to no good and had just been caught out, but Nancy couldn’t bring herself to believe that. She ran through the standard list of vices. Gambling? He’d never even joined the street syndicate for the Grand National. Drugs? Surely not. She couldn’t imagine Max lying on the floor of a crack den – he’d always been far too concerned about how he looked. That man didn’t leave the house without pressing his trousers. Messing around with another woman? Nancy felt a twist of nerves in her stomach. Surely he wasn’t a rotten apple that had fallen from the Walkers’ swinging tree? Especially with a lovely lass like Tress and, worse, a baby on the way.
If that boy was up to no good, he’d get the toe of Nancy’s slipper delivered swiftly to his arse. In fact, even if there was an innocent explanation, he was going to get a piece of her mind when she got a hold of him.
The lift doors opened again and Nancy shuffled out and followed the signs to the children’s ward. She knew she was getting near when the walls were decorated with cloud murals on one side and jungle scenes on the other. When two double doors blocked her path, she pressed the intercom on the wall beside them.
She took a note out of Val’s book and channelled Princess Anne’s voice of authority. ‘Hello, my name is Nancy Jenkins and I’m trying to get hold of Dr Noah Clark on a very important matter.’
‘Hold on, please.’
Nancy almost punched the air. Yes. That sounded hopeful. Maybe Noah was there. Maybe – and, yes, it was a long shot – but maybe Max was with him, had popped in to see his pal at his work.
A few seconds later, one of the doors buzzed and a very friendly-faced nurse pulled it open. If she had any thoughts or judgements on Nancy’s outfit, she chose not to share them, just beamed a lovely wide smile. ‘Hi, sorry, it was me who spoke to you on the intercom. I double-checked because I’ve just come on shift, but Dr Clark is off today, so I’m afraid he’s not here.’
Nancy felt her weary, superhero bones sag. ‘Are you absolutely sure?’
‘Positive. I’m sorry. I checked the rota and then I double-checked with the charge nurse too. Definitely not here.’
‘Okay, thank you. Can I just leave a message then please? If he does come in, or if he calls, can you please tell him that Nancy Jenkins would like to speak to him urgently? His friend’s wife is over in the maternity wing, and we’d just like Noah to know.’
It wasn’t strictly the truth, but, unlike Val, she didn’t feel the compulsion to share every detail of every story with every person that she met.
The nurse pulled a phone out of her pocket and punched in some letters, speaking aloud. ‘Nancy Jenkins. Friend’s wife in maternity. Got it. I’ll ask Charge Nurse if I can call him and let him know,’ she added conspiratorially.
‘You’re a gem, pet. Thank you.’
Dejected, Nancy headed back to the lift, racking her brain for some other idea that would help. She couldn’t go back to Tress with nothing. She must be worried out of her wits. By the time she reached the ground floor, she still hadn’t thought of anything. Nothing else for it. She was just going to have to keep Tress’s spirits up, stay with her and keep reassuring her that everything was going to be okay.
Leaving the building she wasn’t paying much attention to what was going on around her, until the sirens got so loud she couldn’t hear herself think. Bloody hell, what a racket. As always when an ambulance passed her, lights and sirens blasting, she sent up a wee prayer that whoever was inside would be okay.
This time, it looked like she was going to find out. The vehicle swerved right in front of her and then stopped a few metres ahead at a side door to A&E. For the first time, she noticed a whole crowd of medics there waiting for the ambulance, and as soon as it stopped, they all kicked into action. This was like an episode of Holby City unfolding right in front of her. She could walk on past, but she was too terrified that she’d get in the way or fall over someone, so she decided to change direction, take the long way around the edge of the car park. She was just about to start walking again, when the full-scale commotion escalated, a whole lot of frenzied activity and orders being barked all over the place as they pulled out…
Nancy froze. It wasn’t that there was a stretcher, and she could see that there was a woman on it. It wasn’t even that the whole atmosphere and level of activity made it clear that this really was a life-or-death situation. It was the sight of the man who had once been that sweet little boy, Noah Clark, his face a picture of abject devastation, his clothes and hands covered in blood, kneeling on top of the stretcher as it moved, straddling the injured person as he pressed on her chest, giving her CPR. And as the angle changed and they went right past her, she realised who the woman was. Anya.
A sob stuck in Nancy’s throat as her hand flew to her mouth. Oh dear God, that poor lassie. Nancy didn’t know whether to stay, to move, where to go, but there was no decision to be made right now anyway, because there was still frantic activity in the back of the ambulance. A couple of minutes passed, Nancy still rooted to the spot, scared to move, trying desperately to compute what she’d seen, trying to make sense of it, dread rising with every second that ticked past. Her mind was throwing up thoughts that she didn’t want to process. Anya. She worked with Max. Was she going to the airport with him this morning? Had there been an accident? Or… oh God forbid… a plane crash? But Noah had been with her. This didn’t add up. What in the hell was going on?
All of a sudden, her thoughts shut down when they pulled a second stretcher out. This time, she was close enough to see exactly who it was straight away.
That was the moment that Nancy knew that for Tress, for Anya, and for those little boys she once knew, Noah and Max, now grown men, life was never going to be the same again.
Before she even considered what she was doing, Nancy was off and running behind Max’s stretcher.
16
MAX
Max could hear voices again. Lots of them, all fussing around him. Noises from machines too. He could feel people prodding him, opening his eyes, putting needles into his arms, but all he could do was lie there and take it. It was like walking through a fog, hearing things going on around you, but not being able to see anything, or to shout out, or call for help.
They were saying a load of things. Numbers. Words. He recognised the odd one. Years of sharing a flat with Noah and helping him prep for exams had given him some basic medical knowledge. How many times back then had he laid on the floor while Noah practised on him? He’d had more fake heart attacks than a bad actor on a hospital TV show. A thought. Noah. He’d been with him, but Max couldn’t hear him any more.
He just wished he could work out how he got here, but for now all he could do was listen to them work and talk. There was no pain now. He was in a hospital and they were taking care of him. He knew that. So where was Noah? Why wasn’t he here now?
Time passed. Max didn’t know how long.
‘Hey Richard. Cheska. Barry. I brought this guy in. He’s my mate. What can you tell me?’ Noah. He was back.
‘Noah,’ the female voice said. ‘I’m so sorry. How’s your wife?’
‘They got her back, stabilised her,’ Noah replied. He sounded sad. Dazed, even.
Max tried to think. What was wrong with Anya? Was she hurt? Was she here too? He felt like he should know this. Thoughts kept coming into his head and then leaving again and it was so hard to keep track. One minute there. The next minute gone.
Noah was speaking again. ‘There’s internal bleeding. Blood in the abdomen. Facial bones broken. Her hand too. She’s gone up to X-ray and CT and then they’re taking her straight into theatre, so we won’t know anything for a few hours. I just feel useless. How is he?’
The woman spoke again. ‘Stable. There’s significant head trauma, but we can’t see the extent of it until we get him upstairs for a CT. Anya took priority, so we’re just waiting for her to clear and then we’ll take him up. Blood pressure and pulse high. No obvious signs of any body fractures, but we’ll need X-ray. Maybe internal bleeding too, but, again, we need to get him upstairs to check. Barry, can you go call and ask if they’re ready for him. I don’t want to move him until we’re good to go. If he’s going to destabilise, I’d rather he was in here.’
‘Are you sure you’re okay, mate?’ The guy was talking now. He sounded like someone in charge, so maybe a doctor too.
‘Yeah, Richard. Look, thanks for working on Anya and then jumping in here too. I appreciate it.’
‘No worries. I’d just come down from ICU to check on something, so it was just right place, right time. Do you know what happened yet?’
‘No,’ Noah replied. Other people wouldn’t hear it, but Max recognised an edge in his voice. ‘They were in the same car. Travelling on a back road. He was driving, Anya was in the passenger seat.’
Max was taking all this in. He was driving?
Thoughts in. Thoughts out again. Still trying to process it.
He was driving with Anya, and he was speeding. A memory flickered like a dandelion spur in the breeze that he just couldn’t catch, but he saw it for the briefest moment. He was driving. He was agitated. His phone was on the floor and he was trying to reach it. Got it. He picked it up. He was trying to call. Anya was screaming at him to slow down, but he wasn’t listening. Trying to make the call again, but his phone wasn’t working. What the fuck was wrong with it? Kept driving. Kept calling.
Another puffball of fluff went by, and he grabbed it. Tress. He was trying to call Tress. To tell her that he was coming to her. Why was he doing that?
Noah was speaking again. ‘They came around a corner too fast, swerved to avoid a collision, car took off, flipped, rolled a few times and then landed on its roof in some trees. We were lucky to get them out.’
We. Noah said we. So he must have been with them? No. It was only Anya and him in the car. So how did Noah get there? This didn’t make sense. Please let it make sense.
‘It blew just as we got them away from the scene.’
‘Jesus, Noah, that’s a nightmare. What can we do for you? I want to tell you to go home, but I know that you won’t, and I get it.’ The woman said that.
‘I can’t leave them, can’t go, knowing that Anya is upstairs. I’m going to change into these scrubs, then I’ll wait in the on-call room. Can you keep me updated on him?’
The guy answered first. ‘Of course. I’ll stay with him, then come and find you as soon as we get out of X-ray. Let you know what we’re going to do.’
Footsteps coming back into the room. ‘They’re ready for him upstairs in ten minutes. Said to make our way up now.’
‘Okay, Barry, go grab a couple of the team and I want a defib on standby. If we’re going to move, I want to be prepared.’
‘I’ll get out of your way.’ That was Noah, but almost immediately there was a new voice.
‘Dr Clark?’
A pause, then Noah replied with, ‘Yes?’ His mate sounded weary. Exhausted. Strained. What had happened? Max couldn’t remember. Why was he here? What was wrong with him?
The woman was speaking again. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a lady in reception who asked me to pass on a message. She insists she’s a friend of yours and of the patient.’
‘What was the message?’ He knew that tone. Noah used it when he was confused.
‘She said that the patient’s wife, Mrs Walker, is in the maternity ward and she’s in labour. She said you would want to know.’
‘I’ll be right there!’ Noah blurted. ‘Richard, Cheska, I’m sorry. I need to go. Please keep me posted. On both of them.’
Lots of steps. Noah. Running out.
Max was still trying to work out what had happened. Mrs Walker. Wait. Was that Tress? His Tress was in labour? His boy was coming. And he was lying here. He had to get up.
In his head, he screamed, ‘Wait for me. Take me with you. Take me to her.’
But nothing came out.
‘His pulse is elevating. His blood pressure too.’
The woman again. ‘Damnit. What the hell just happened? Get him upstairs now. I need scans and I need them now. If there’s bleeding somewhere, we need to get it under control. I’m not telling Noah that this guy didn’t make it.’
