I Know the Truth

by M A Comley

  Obviously, she had agreed, and together they issued an invitation to Kathy, who showed no sign of hesitation in accepting the invitation.

  The rest of the week had gone according to plan. Matthew’s daily gifts brought a smile to her face and an ache to her heart. She missed him, more so in the evenings, when she was at home. Although he rang her every night, it wasn’t the same as holding him in her arms.

  The wedding plans appeared to be in full swing. Every now and again she received a text message from Cynthia, bringing her up to date and assuring her that everything was in hand. It was a relief not having the arrangements on her shoulders as well as the business. She had finally conceded that Cynthia knew her stuff in that department. But her biggest thrill was how the agency was performing in such troubled times. Kathy had proven to be an ideal colleague to work with. She even put Lucy to shame, coming up with dozens of exceptional promotional ideas that they had put in place the very first week.

  Everything was going swimmingly until something very strange happened towards the end of the first week, when a wreath arrived at the shop. As soon as she saw it, she thought it was in memory of Shirley. Someone local perhaps had heard when the funeral was going to take place. She didn’t even bother to read the card on the damned thing, not until midway through Friday afternoon during a lull in business.

  IN LOVING MEMORY OF PATRICK.

  Well, her heart appeared to stall for several seconds. She sucked in a breath and studied the card, reading it over and over. This can’t be happening! This must be a mistake. The wreath must have come to the wrong place; there must have been a mix up along the way. But that name…Patrick, is so personal to me, it has to be meant for me, doesn’t it?

  Her thoughts were caught up in a tornado, swirling angrily inside her mind. Is this to do with Cynthia? Has she made good on her threat? Has she uncovered the truth? That my husband is dead? And that I killed him?

  But then the logical side of her brain told her that there was no way on earth Cynthia could have found out, even if she’d hired the best private investigator money could buy. So, if this wasn’t down to her, then who was trying to rattle her cage and shake things up a bit? And why now, after five years of not hearing or seeing his name? Furthermore, how the hell was she going to find out who was responsible?

  Kathy was astute. She could tell how upset Lucy was and asked her what was wrong. She’d grown close to her new colleague quickly and was tempted to share her secret with her but decided against it at the last moment.

  “It must be a mistake by the florist. Silly me, I didn’t think to check the day it came, I just presumed it was meant for Shirley.”

  “Can I do anything to help?”

  “No, that’s sweet of you, I’ll sort it. I’ll ring the florist, see what they have to say. You make the coffee, I’ll do it now.”

  Lucy placed the call from her desk. The florist was no help at all. The woman informed her that the request had come in over the phone. She’d taken the call herself.

  “Did a woman place the order?”

  “No, it was definitely a man. Sorry I can’t be more help. I have to go now, we’re very busy.”

  “No problem. Thank you for your time.” She hung up and stared out of the window.

  Kathy nudged her out of her daze moments later. “Your coffee is beside you. Any luck with the florist?”

  “No, nothing at all. It’s all rather puzzling. Never mind, the weekend is just around the corner. Do you have any plans?”

  “Not really. I have a first date with Chris to look forward to.”

  “Oh, do tell. Where did you meet him?”

  They spent the next ten minutes sipping their drinks and telling each other about their past boyfriends, except Lucy cautiously neglected to fill Kathy in on the nastier parts of her relationship with Patrick. She was doing her best to keep those locked away. If only the nightmares hadn’t started up. She’d suffered the past week in particular, had found Trisha in her room on a few occasions, truly worried about her after she called out Patrick’s name in her sleep.

  Good old Trisha, she’d know what to do about the wreath. Lucy had tried to call her a few times, but it was obvious she was busy as her phone had gone directly to voicemail each time. Never mind, they could discuss it over their usual Friday night takeaway instead.

  She had arranged to meet Matthew for dinner on the Saturday with a stipulation they stay away from the main house. She wanted some me time with him. He’d agreed and said he had something special he was bringing home for her from his latest business trip.

  Lucy had locked up for the night, said farewell to Kathy, and was en route to her car when Trisha finally returned her call.

  “Hey, you. Are you on your way home?”

  “Yes, sorry, haven’t had time to even take a piss today at work. He’s such a bloody slave driver, worse when there’s a show around the corner. How are things with you? What was so urgent that you’ve left me five messages throughout the day?”

  “Nothing much, I’ll tell you once you’re home. Actually, I’ll show you,” she said, holding up the wreath she was carrying.

  “Okay, I’m just coming down Johnson Way now. Shit…”

  “Trisha? Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m bloody not. The brakes have gone. I can’t stop the car.”

  “What? Try again.”

  “I am trying. There’s no response. Oh God. I’m speeding down this bloody road. Tell me what to do.”

  “The handbrake, can you use that?”

  “I’ve tried, it’s no good. Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  “Stay calm, don’t panic. I’m on my way.”

  “Great! What do I do in the meantime? There’s nothing in front of me, but there are cars on the other side of the road. What if the steering fails next and I drift over?”

  “Don’t think like that.” Lucy ran the short distance to her car, got in it and sped towards Johnson Way to see if she could intervene in some way. All the time she was driving, she kept chatting to Trisha. “I’ll be there soon. Hang in there!”

  “Like I have other options open to me. Jesus, I’ve got no control now. The car is shaking. I’m getting closer to the bottom of the hill.”

  “Good, the speed should die down then. I’m with you in spirit. Stay strong.”

  “I can’t, my arms are killing me. I’m holding on to the steering wheel for dear life, and please, don’t tell me to relax my grip. I can’t do that, the car is trying to pull to the right, into the oncoming traffic. Fuck! No! Fuck!”

  Those were the final words she heard Trisha say. They were followed by an almighty scream and a crunching sound, then silence.

  15

  “Trisha? Are you there? Can you hear me? Speak to me. Dear God, please let her be all right.” She pushed her foot down hard on the accelerator, not caring one jot if she got pulled over for speeding. This was an extenuating circumstance, surely. Her friend was in dire need of help. The line was still open. She kept trying to call out to Trisha, to see if she’d respond. Her attempts were met with silence, each and every time. She brushed away the tears forming at regular intervals. “Remain focused, the last thing I need is to have an accident as well.” She was in two minds whether to hang up and dial nine-nine-nine, then she thought better of it, hoping that someone at the scene would have the sense to do that for her, for Trisha. Her Trisha, the one constant companion in her life since their schooldays.

  The one person who knew the truth, every tiny detail about her life, past and present.

  “Oh shit, please, Trisha, don’t you dare leave me.”

  She arrived at Johnson Way and hurtled down the hill towards the melee of cars at the bottom. The first thing she did was check her brakes. They were fine. What had gone wrong with Trisha’s? Why had they stopped working?

  It seemed a lifetime had passed before she made it to the bottom, and during the drive she tried to imagine the terror Trisha must have felt as she plummeted down the hill. Her ne
ck strained as she peered over her steering wheel at what lay ahead of her. The closer she got, the more her fear levels spiked. The damage to Trisha’s car devastated her. Jesus! How could she survive the impact? Please let her still be with us.

  She ran towards the vehicle. “Please, let me through. She’s my best friend. I need to get to her.”

  A heavily built man blocked her path. “Love, I wouldn’t advise it. The car’s a mess. I doubt she’s survived.”

  Lucy braced herself and hurtled around the man, shrugging off the arms seeking to restrain her.

  “Stop her, someone, for her own good. Don’t let her get near,” the man shouted from behind.

  Several people ahead of her tried to prevent her from getting closer, but she managed to push them aside. Her struggle to get to Trisha was real and proved to be extremely forceful come the end.

  So, here she was, standing next to the car, staring down at her beautiful friend. Trisha’s face was crushed in on one side. Her eyes were closed, though, which gave Lucy hope. If they’d been open, she would have feared the worse.

  “Okay, stand aside, please. Stop gawping there. Come on, move out of the way,” a police officer said close to her.

  He tugged on her arm, and she shrugged it off, like she had the others who had tried to keep her away.

  “Trisha Wallace, her name is Trisha, and she’s my best friend.”

  “Okay, Miss, thank you for the information. We’ve called for the fire brigade to assist us, they should be here soon. I’m sorry, I’m still going to have to ask you to stand back.”

  “I can’t. Please, don’t make me do that. She needs me.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but the emergency services will need access to the car—unhindered access. Come on, let’s go, now.”

  Lucy turned to face him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Is she still alive?”

  “Let’s get you back and away from here.” He craned his neck and pointed. “The ambulance and the fire brigade have arrived. Come on, let’s not get in their way.” His touch was firm but gentle, and he guided her to the side of the road, to stand amongst the other onlookers.

  She didn’t want to be with them, she wanted to be with Trisha. Her dearest and most loyal companion.

  Everything appeared to happen in slow motion after that. Witnessing her friend’s rescue for thirty minutes seemed to her like watching a scene from Casualty, or worse still, Silent Witness. Only Trisha was thankfully, and remarkably, still alive.

  “Please, I want to go with her to the hospital.”

  The paramedic and the officer who had restrained her exchanged glances.

  “Okay, I’m fine with that, if you are,” the officer replied.

  “Thank you. I promise to behave myself. I just want to be there to support her. My car is that one over there. I can drive it to a safe spot and return later to pick it up.”

  “All right. Go ahead and move it. I think the brigade have almost got her free.”

  Lucy turned her back on the fireman using the Jaws of Life to cut Trisha free. She tore over to the car and raced back just in time to see four firemen gently lifting Trisha’s broken and twisted body from the wreckage. They had placed one of those spinal boards under her back. Lucy closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer, ashamed she didn’t really believe in God—only at times such as this.

  Trisha was transferred to the rear of the ambulance, an oxygen mask in place, and the paramedic set to work inserting a drip into her right arm. Once that had been connected, they set off for the hospital. Trisha was wheeled into the triage room in the Accident and Emergency Department. Lucy was instructed to wait in the family room. She collected a cup of coffee on the way and sat in a chair at the back of the windowless room. She picked up a magazine and leafed through it, not taking in any of the words. Her anxiety forced her to put the magazine back on the table and take up pacing the room.

  Her mobile rang fifteen minutes later. “Oh God, I’ve been dying to speak to you. I thought you’d be on the road by now…”

  “Wait, slow down. You sound strange, is something wrong?” Matthew replied, concerned.

  “I’m at the hospital.”

  “What? Why? Are you hurt?”

  “No, it’s Trisha. She’s had an accident.” The tears fell, and a lump clogged her throat.

  “And? Is she all right, Lucy?”

  “No, Matthew. She’s on the brink of…” Unable to finish her sentence, she dropped into her chair and sobbed. “I need you here with me.”

  “Fuck, I’m driving back now. It’s going to be at least five hours before I can get there, love. I’m sorry you’re going through this. Have you spoken to a doctor yet?”

  “No, they’re still working on her. Shit! I can’t lose her, I just can’t. She’s all I have left.”

  “That’s not true, you have me,” he was quick to add.

  “It’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, I’m confused. I don’t know what I’m saying. Please, hurry. No, don’t, drive safely. Shit, see, I’m contradicting myself. Take care.”

  “I will. Don’t worry about me. Ring me as soon as you hear anything, okay?”

  “I’ll do that. What if she dies?”

  “Don’t think that way. You need to think positively about this, love. She’s a strong lady, she’ll get through this.”

  “I’m not so sure. You didn’t see the state of the car. Her body was all, well, twisted. I fear for her. Not knowing what’s going on is driving me nuts.”

  “Be patient. If she’s as bad as you say she is, they’ll be working on her, doing their best to save her. I’ll be there as soon as I can, Lucy.”

  “I’ll ring you if I hear anything. Thanks for calling. I love you.”

  He professed his love for her and ended the call. She felt drained, as if all her energy had been extracted from all her limbs in the last hour or so. Had it only been that long since Trisha had rung her?

  The door opened, and a sombre-looking man in his fifties entered. “Are you Lucy Brent, Trisha’s friend?”

  “That’s right. How’s she doing?”

  He inhaled a large breath then let it out slowly. “She’s surviving, so far. We’ve managed to stabilise her the best we can. We suspect she has internal bleeding going on as her blood pressure is dropping. We’re going to send her for an MRI now, and then on to surgery if she needs it. The team are prepped and ready to go. Are you her next of kin?”

  “I’m the nearest thing she’s got. Why?”

  “Precautionary question. Nothing is set in stone from here on in. She seems to be a fighter. Most people would’ve died from their injuries by now.”

  “Oh shit! Don’t say that. What about her face? Can you fix that?”

  “In time. Our priority remains to see what’s going on inside. We’ve assessed the damage to her face, and reconstructive surgery will be necessary, eventually.”

  “Thank you for letting me know. Can I see her?”

  “Not just now. We’re going to transfer her in the next few minutes. I suggest you make yourself comfortable, or maybe go and get something to eat, to while away the time. You’ll be in for a long night if you insist on sticking around.”

  “I’m fine. I couldn’t eat, my stomach is tied in knots with worry.”

  “Very well. I’ll come and see you as soon as I have more news.”

  “Thank you. Please do your best for her, Doctor.”

  “It goes without saying.”

  He marched out of the room. She watched him go down the nearby corridor and disappear through the swing doors at the bottom. Unsure what she should do next, she returned to her seat and picked up another magazine to zip through. This time, not even the pictures registered. Her mind was full of the doctor’s words, which set her fear rising to yet another level.

  Lucy stayed in the suffocating room for the next forty-five minutes and then decided to head over to the hospital canteen to grab something to eat to keep her strength up for the long wait ahea
d of her. She nibbled on the tuna and sweetcorn sandwich and glanced out of the window, at the beautiful sunset looming over the houses in the distance. Such a remarkable event that would usually be the cause of celebration, and instead, here she was, petrified, uncertain whether her friend was about to pull through or not.

  She wandered back to the family room, and her weariness overwhelmed her. She huddled in the corner, rested her head against the wall and drifted off. The hospital’s general hubbub woke her several times, but it didn’t deter her from drifting off again. A hand touched her cheek hours later.

  “Matthew, you made it.”

  He held out his arms and hugged her. She openly sobbed, unable to keep her true emotions in check.

  “Hey, now, come on. Have the doctors not told you what’s going on yet? I can go and demand to know, if you want me to?”

  “No, damn, I forgot to ring you. They took her for an MRI earlier. The doctor warned me I was in for a long wait. He thinks she’s got internal bleeding. They had an emergency team on hand and were going to operate once they had the results from the MRI.” She inhaled a large breath.

  “Okay, that doesn’t sound too good. It’s been hours. You should’ve heard by now. I’m going to see what I can find out.”

  “I’ll come with you. I was exhausted and fell asleep. I shouldn’t have done that, my head is bloody muzzy now.”

  “You stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He kissed her temple and left the room.

  Despair lay heavily on her shoulders. However, the feeling was short-lived. Matthew returned within a few minutes.

  “She’s been taken to the Intensive Care Unit. They were about to come and tell you, only an emergency case came up and, well, time got away from them.”