Truly Madly Guilty(98)



She let that big black pool of nothingness take her, drag her under. She could hear a phone ringing, but it was too late, she couldn’t get back now, it was much too big and powerful to resist.

*

Oliver looked at his comatose wife with a dull, sick sense of recognition. She’d passed out, drunk. It meant she’d effectively left. Gone. Not back until the morning. He’d never ever looked at his wife with dislike before, but as he studied her drooping head and gaping mouth he felt his face distort with resentment. They didn’t even know yet if Ruby was going to be okay. How could she sleep? But of course, drunks could always sleep.

She’s not a drunk, he reminded himself. She’s just drunk. For the first time since you’ve known her.

‘She must be exhausted,’ said Holly, looking at Erika with fascination.

Oliver smiled at Holly’s use of the word ‘exhausted’. ‘I think you’re right,’ he said. ‘She’s exhausted. How’s your drink? Not too hot?’

‘No, it’s not too hot,’ said Holly. She took a very careful, tentative sip. There was a little moustache of milk on her upper lip.

‘Oliver,’ said Holly quietly. She held up her little blue handbag and her eyes filled with more tears.

‘Did you want me to put that somewhere safe?’ Oliver held out his hand.

‘Oliver,’ she said again, but much more quietly this time.

‘What is it, darling?’ Oliver crouched down in front of her. His clothes were still wet and filthy from the fountain.

Holly leaned forward and began to whisper urgently in his ear.





chapter sixty-one



The day of the barbeque

The four grandparents arrived at the hospital at the same time.

Clementine had come out of the ICU to make a quick phone call to Erika, to update her on Ruby’s progress and to make sure that Holly could stay with them for a little longer until they sorted out where she would spend the night.

To her surprise Oliver had answered Erika’s phone. Holly was fine, he said. She was on the couch under a blanket with Erika watching a DVD. He said that Erika was asleep, and he sounded embarrassed about that, or bewildered, but apart from that, he spoke exactly as Oliver always did, with polite, throat-clearing reticence, as if it had been an ordinary night, as if he and Erika hadn’t just saved Ruby’s life.

From where Clementine stood on the first-floor landing she could see the ground floor of the hospital and the sliding doors at the entrance. She recognised Sam’s parents first as they hurried in, their agitation clear in the way they half-ran, half-walked. They would have been caught in the same traffic jam as she and Tiffany had, and they would have felt that same demented frustration. Sam’s dad had grown up in the country and abhorred traffic lights.

She watched as the four of them grabbed at each other, like the survivors of a natural disaster running into each other at a refugee camp. Her father, dressed in his ‘around the house’ clothes, jeans and a misshapen jumper that would never normally be seen in public, hugged Sam’s tiny mother, and she put her arms up and clung to his back in a way that was almost frightening to see because it was so out of character. Clementine saw Sam’s dad put his hand on Clementine’s mother’s arm, and they both turned around, their faces lifted, studying the hospital signs for clues about where to go.

Clementine’s mother caught sight of Clementine first, and she pointed at the same time as Clementine raised her hand, and then they all hurried up the long, wide walkway towards her.

Clementine walked down to meet them halfway. Her mother was first, followed by Sam’s parents, with her dad at the back; he’d had a knee operation after a skiing accident a few months back. The expressions on their faces were painful to see. They each looked terrified, and sick, and as if they were labouring to breathe, as if the walkway was a mountain Clementine had forced them to climb. These were four fit, trim grandparents enjoying their retirement, but now they appeared much older. For the first time they looked elderly.

Ruby and Holly were the only grandchildren on both sides of the family. They were adored and spoiled, and Sam and Clementine lapped up the adoration with such casual vanity, for hadn’t they created these exquisite little angels? Why, yes they had, so they deserved their pick of free babysitters and they deserved to sit back and be fed home-made treats when they went to visit, for look what they offered in return: these glorious grandchildren!

‘She’s okay,’ she said. By okay, she meant ‘alive’; she wanted them to know that Ruby was still alive. But she spoke too soon, before they could properly hear, and she could see all four of them straining to understand, in a panic to get to her faster, and Sam’s mother grabbed for the banister, as if it were bad news.

‘Ruby is okay!’ she called again, louder, and then they were all around her, asking questions, creating a roadblock for people trying to get up the walkway.

‘They have her sedated,’ said Clementine. ‘And she’s still … intubated.’

She tripped on the terrifying word and thought of Ruby’s white little face and the huge tube extending from her mouth. It looked like it was choking her, not helping her breathe.

‘They’ve done a CT scan and there is no sign of swelling or brain injury, everything looks fine,’ said Clementine. Swelling or brain injury. She tried to make the medical words feel meaningless, like a foreign language, just sounds coming out of her mouth, because she couldn’t risk letting herself feel their full significance. ‘They’ve done a chest X-ray and there is some fluid on the lungs, but that’s to be expected, they’re not too concerned, they’ve started her on a course of antibiotics. Her ribs are okay. No fractures.’

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