Chapter 11
Suzanne was at home, she had taken the afternoon off and was steeling herself to make the journey to the hospital and tell them that she had finally accepted the need to let her daughter go. She wanted Tony with her but he was not to be found. She was contemplating sending him a text message but it seemed such an impersonal way of giving him the news. The sudden ringing from her phone made her start, drawing her back from the thoughts of Emily. The happy times when she was just a child, the times when she had grown and proved to be such a support to her. She looked down and saw that the call was from Biddenfield General. Despite her current intentions, the call still held the ability to sent her a shiver of panic.
The message that Emily no longer needed the respirator came to Suzanne like the answer to a prayer. Just when she had given up all hope, here was a reprieve. Not only was Emily breathing again but there was finally evidence of renewed vital electrical activity in her brain. Suzanne took the news with trembling knees, forcing her to sit while tears of relief ran down her cheeks. She could hardly bring herself to believe what she had been told, Emily was not dead. There was reason now to look to the future without the overwhelming dread that she had carried for too long.
The fact that Emily was still not awake seemed, in this new context, like a minor problem, something that would surely be soon resolved. She tried Tony's number again to give him the joyous news but his phone was still turned off. So she rang Ken who had been so kind to her and had given her hope when everyone else seemed focused on the negative. Kenneth Granger took the news with almost as much joy as Suzanne. He felt a sudden overwhelming desire to drop everything, to rush to her side and hold her close. So despite his natural inhibitions, he did just that. He stood at the glass entry door peering in and when Suzanne opened the door he kissed her. It was a brief visit in his busy day and he could only spare ten minutes but it served, beyond the expression of happiness over Emily's improvement, to firmly establish the foundation of a growing relationship.
In the universe in which Emily was still trapped she was absorbing the tumult of the changes that had happened to her comatose body, she floated in the darkness once again. The shock of what she had heard across the membrane had jolted her like a bolt of electricity, resetting her dormant breathing response but sending her into a deep recuperative sleep. When she eventually roused it felt different, as if she no longer belonged to this place. She felt that she was being drawn away from her cocoon into a harsher reality. Emily just wanted to relax and enjoy the tranquillity but it seemed that she was being rejected by her strange world. In a distant recess of her mind, she felt there was some important information gnawing at her, trying to bring a memory of something back to her. It seemed to her that it was vitally important, something she had to do, something urgent. Her brain was reorganizing itself; re-establishing the neural pathways that made her who she was. It would take time, but Emily did not have much time.
Alexander had been expecting his muse to reappear but there had been no sign of her all morning. She had warned him that she needed to be at the membrane – whatever that was. He wished he understood what it all meant, but it was just part of the strange entangled reality he found himself immersed in at the present. Hopeful, but still not yet fully convinced that the phantom girl was real, there was nothing he could do to invoke her presence and so he continued his work on the book. Essentially the story was now complete. Thanks in no small measure to his muse, the work had progressed quickly and quite satisfactorily, but there was still the long job of converting the story into a readable novel. There were things he would like to discuss with her. There was also a vague disquiet that hung over him which had nothing to do with the book. Something that he could hardly put into words; it was as if he were somehow needed by his muse.
He went out into the garden to see if by chance she might be there, he had often felt her strange presence there. The garden had a mellow damp climate all of its own filled with smells of winter decay and softened by the ever present tang of the sea. He called her name but there was nothing. He looked to the distance beyond the almost hidden church spire past the gorse bushes to where the grazing cows could be glimpsed on the rising fields. He looked up to the sky as if his muse might be hovering up there among the scrolling white clouds, but there was no sign of her. It was calm and still in the garden, but the showery morning had brought a chill to the air and despite the quiet there was a frisson of something which brought a shiver to Alexander as he felt the small hairs on the back of his neck pricking from some unknown anxiety. He could do no more than put the feelings down to an over active imagination and returned to the warmth of the cottage.
Inside, Alexander felt safe as if the cottage were a haven where no harm could befall him. But he was still unable the shake his concern about where his muse had vanished to. It was not something that he would readily admit to but he missed her and had no way of getting in touch with the ghostly woman. It was she who controlled when she would appear to him. He would have to wait until the moon goddess was ready. Unless something had happened to her and she was unable to get back. He found the idea distressing and Alexander chose to let the thought rest, not examined too closely. She would come back to him when she was ready. She must do, he needed her; he needed her inspiration, her sense of humour, the balance she had brought to him. He simply needed her at his side.
Emily was roused slowly from her sleep. How long she had slept she had no way of knowing. Trapped in her own universe time had little meaning... Even so she knew there was something about time that was important. She knew that her situation had changed in a significant way but was she unable to understand clearly in what way it had changed; she just felt different, more vital. The urgent need to get back to the cottage and discuss things with Alexander had returned to her after the restful sleep. But she was still trapped in the dark formless world that no longer seemed to want her there as if it was pushing her back into the real world. The images that she had grown accustomed to were now blurred and indistinct; the cottage and the membrane were lost to her now in a swirl of muted colours.
It was something to do with the time, this urgent matter. She knew that. Time, what was this strange thing called time? Was it merely the flow of stacked instants? Could it be turned back or speeded up or slowed down? She felt that her mind was too fogged with confusion to think clearly, too fogged... Too... no not too but TWO... Two o'clock... two o'clock... suddenly the memory cascaded back to her. She remembered her mother's farewell and the plot that had shocked her, changed her. Alexander was the only one she could speak to, he was the only one who could help her. It was a matter of urgency but she had no idea what the time was, how long she had left. The whole concept of time, now so vital to her had little internal meaning in her enclosed universe. Only in her cottage was she kept in touch with such mundane concepts. Emily strained to focus on the colours that now swirled before her. She was sure that the shape in the distance was the door she needed. She swam towards the nebulous shape and as she approached it seemed to come into focus. It seemed to be the door she knew so well; the door to her salvation. Emily thrust herself at the portal. At first it would not yield but as Emily persisted it finally opened and she fell inside the cottage and into the arms of Alexander who stood astonished at what he saw.
Emily had become more solid, more real. She was still far from having the form of a normal person but her features were now clearer, her face like a sketch on canvas, beautiful. He could almost feel her in his arms and as he looked at her, he realized that not only was his muse possessed of a beautiful nature, her appearance was equally beautiful. He gazed at her naked form with the unacknowledged love that had been there for weeks; love and now a tangible desire for her.
"Alexander, thank God! They're trying to kill me!" Emily's words were gasped with a panic that Alexander had never seen from her before.
"What do you mean...? Who's trying to kill you? Calm down, and explain exactly what has happene
d." Alexander was already becoming infected by Emily's distress and was beginning to feel a wave of panic roll over him by what was happening. Almost unable to contain herself Emily explained what she had discovered. That she was indeed in hospital in a coma. That she was being kept alive by the pulsing of a respirator and that her desperate mother had been on the point of allowing the doctors to turn off her life support because she thought there was no longer any hope.
"But there's worse Alexander... some murderer is coming to end my life."
"End your life? Why?... When?"
"I can't be sure why... it makes no sense to me but the 'when' is clear enough. Alexander it's set to happen at two o'clock." The words came out in a rush and Alexander had trouble in taking in what she was saying. Beyond this was the question of just how true her story was. He had absolute faith that he could trust her not to lie to him, but he was far less confident that she was fully in touch with the reality of this impenetrably strange situation –How could she be – how could anyone be?
"Are you sure about this, it all sounds more like a bad dream than anything. Are you sure it's not just a nightmare?"
"No no Alexander, you must believe me. I can remember a lot of what has happened to me now now, I am real, my name is Emily Wilcox and I was hurt when I was thrown from a horse. Alexander if you don't help me I will be dead by two o'clock. Alexander glanced at his watch it was a quarter to one, only a little over an hour left. His mind was working in overdrive; he had no idea what he should do or indeed what he could do.
"Do you know where you are? Where your actual body is?"
The frail form sobbed and shook her head.
"No, no; I only know that I'm in a hospital room, Alexander help me... please."
Emily's cry for help was a pain Alexander could hardly stand and there was nothing he could do. His mind raced over what she told him. A murderer coming to kill her surely that could not be true.
"Wait, did you say that your name is Emily Wilcox?"
"Yes, why? Does it mean something to you?"
"I think maybe this is starting to make some sort of sense, at least a weird sort of sense, hold on."
Alexander was already dialling his phone.
"Hello Suzanne Wilcox."
"Suzanne, Hello. It's Alexander Havers, This may sound strange... but do you have a daughter called Emily?"
For a brief moment there was no answer, just a slight sharp intake of breath.
"Yes, why, what do you know?"
"We don't have time for me to explain in detail yet, but is she in hospital in a coma?"
"Yes, yes, how do you know that?" the tone of Suzanne's voice had changed from curiosity to urgent alarm.
"I am pretty certain that she is in danger, we have to get to her body, I mean to her, to her bedside as soon as possible. What hospital is she in?"
"She's in the local hospital, Biddenfield General, look this makes no sense Alexander. Explain to me what this is all about."
"If I tried to explain on the phone it would make even less sense Suzanne, I... we have to get to her room. Someone is shortly going to make an attempt on her life."
"What? That's just insanity."
"Suzanne just trust me on this, it really is a matter of life and death and we have very little time left."
"All right Alexander I have no good reason to disbelieve you... Look I know you don't have a car, the cottage is only a short diversion on the way to the hospital, I'll pick you up in a few minutes." The phone went dead. Suzanne rushed out to her car and drove towards her daughter's cottage as fast as she could.
Emily put her arms around Alexander, despite the ethereal sensation, it almost felt like a real embrace to him.
"Thank you for believing me Alexander, I was... I still am so frightened."
Alexander could see the fear in her ghostly eyes.
"Don't worry, now that I'm certain that you are real, I will move heaven and earth to save you. I couldn't stand to lose you now." He ran to the door to wait for Suzanne and before going outside he turned to look at Emily's ghostly incarnation for an instant.
"Emily – I think I love you." He said. Emily watched his face but how could she answer him? That she was suddenly overcome by a crippling shyness, here in the midst of her lost world when her life hung in the balance? Alexander turned away before she could reply, he left the cottage unsure that he would ever get to meet the living form of the woman who had touched his heart.
He ran down to the road to meet Suzanne's car and they raced off together at a speed testing the bounds of sanity. As the car screamed down the road Suzanne passed Alexander her phone.
"The number of the hospital is stored on this, call them and tell them what you know."
As always happens at times like this, it was a poor line and when he finally made them understand his words, the car had already travelled almost half the distance to the hospital.
"I need to get a message to the ward that Emily Wilcox is on, it's very urgent."
"Emily Wilcox, ah yes that's the Artemis long stay ward, I'll put you through."
"Artemis ward! What other messages has she been subconsciously sending me?" Alexander wondered out loud.
The phone on the Artemis ward rang and rang and rang. Then Alexander ultimately heard the dreaded words "I'm sorry no one is available to take your call at the moment, if you would like to leave a message..."
He swore under his breath and then stuttered a gabble of barely comprehensible words into his phone.
"Emily Wilcox is in grave and urgent danger from an intruder. Get security to station someone in her room... This is most urgent, please hurry."
He looked across at Suzanne who was driving like a demon, threading her way through the traffic with sawing arms and generating an alarming amount of tyre squeal from her little Peugeot.
"I could only leave a message; I hope they check the calls often."
Suzanne nodded but had hardly heard what Alexander had said, after what she had gone through over the past months there was absolutely no way she would let Emily be taken away from her now. With all her mother's instincts heightened she felt able to face a pack of ravenous wolves if it meant saving her daughter. All she could do however was drive faster than she had ever driven in her life before. As she turned across the busy junction, flailing at the wheel to avoid an elderly pedestrian who looked up at her with an astonished expression, the sudden blare of a siren made her jump. Her eyes darted to the blurred image in her mirror; she saw the flashing lights of a police car. The driver was clearly and forcefully expressing the desire that she pull over.
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