by Lisa Heidke
Tom rubbed her arm tenderly.
‘It’s true,’ she continued, shaking him off. ‘She didn’t listen to me. I knew something like this would happen. It was a matter of time.’
‘Do you have anything you can give her?’ Steve asked, clearly agitated by Dot’s ramblings.
Everyone turned to look at him.
‘Well?’ he said impatiently, staring at Toby and Mike. ‘Do you?’
What was he suggesting? A quick shot to the temples?
Tom took Dot to sit down nearby, but she continued babbling at a hundred miles an hour. Everyone had different coping mechanisms. Talking was Dot’s.
I closed my eyes briefly as I leaned against a wall for support, wishing the day would come to an end. Toby and Mike were talking in hushed tones to Steve, and Carly was pacing up and down the waiting room. I called her over to join me.
‘This is my fault,’ I said. ‘If I’d supported Jesse more at the library, none of this would have happened.’
‘That’s not true,’ said Carly, tears trickling down her cheeks. ‘It’s my fault. Me and my big mouth.’
I shook my head. ‘It’s not you. I should have helped her more at work. I knew Liz was angling to sack her.’
We took seats at a table and stared over at Steve and the doctors.
‘How do you think he is?’ Carly asked.
I shrugged. Who knew with Steve?
A few minutes later, Brett arrived. He came straight over to Carly and hugged her tight and stroked her hair. ‘It’ll be all right,’ he soothed. For all of Carly’s complaints about Brett, he certainly seemed loving and caring towards her.
Turning to me, he said, ‘How are you holding up? Carly said you were the first on the scene.’
‘Okay,’ I whispered, then shook my head. ‘It’s like a bad dream. I keep pinching myself, hoping I’ll wake up.’
‘And Steve?’ he asked.
We turned to look at Steve again, who was now standing alone by the water dispenser. Brett walked over to him and tried to hug him. Steve resisted, then shook his head and started talking. I couldn’t hear their conversation.
Toby came back into the room. As Carly and I made our way towards him, I heard Steve say to Brett, ‘Those women.’ Brett glanced at us briefly before turning back to Steve.
‘How is she really?’ Carly was asking Toby.
‘The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be critical.’
‘And?’
‘And if she pulls through, we’ll hold our breath for the next day and then the one after that. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more.’
Carly sniffed back tears. ‘It’s okay. You’re doing your best.’
He put his arms around her and hugged her.
‘Hey! You guys are looking a bit too familiar,’ I said.
Carly broke free and shot a glance at Brett. He was staring straight at her. Steve looked over at us, too, and I saw his eyes widen before he let out an audible gasp. No doubt the pieces were rapidly falling into place in his mind.
‘I think he knows,’ I whispered to Carly and Toby.
Toby glanced towards Steve who was still staring straight at us. ‘You could be right. I’ll see you both soon,’ he said, and left the room.
Moments later, Brett was beside Carly. ‘Who was that guy you were all over?’
‘Pardon?’
‘It doesn’t matter. I’m just curious.’
‘He’s just a doctor, Brett. I’m upset. He was comforting me.’
Brett raised his eyebrows. ‘Okay. It’s a tough time for everyone.’
‘How’s Steve doing?’ I asked.
Brett paused. ‘Not good. Having a hard time. It’s to be expected.’
Doubly so, I thought, given that the two attending doctors had already met him under dubious circumstances.
‘Maybe if he’d treated Jesse better, none of this would have happened,’ Carly said.
‘Keep your voice down,’ Brett told her.
‘Why? It’s what everyone thinks.’
Brett glanced around the room. ‘I’m going in search of a coffee. Can I get either of you anything?’
Carly shook her head.
‘No, thanks,’ I said. ‘I should go and speak to Dot.’
Brett kissed Carly lightly on the forehead. ‘I’ll be back soon.’
I went over to Dot and Tom at their table by the window. ‘How are you?’ I asked.
‘How do you think I am?’ said Dot. ‘Distraught. I’m not even allowed to see my own daughter. It’s not right.’
‘Come on, love,’ said Tom, reaching across the table to hold her hand.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ I asked. ‘Phone Louisa for you?’
Dot wiped her eyes. ‘Tom’s already called her.’
Tom nodded. ‘She’ll be on the next flight out of San Francisco.’
‘Did I hear right?’ It was Steve. ‘Louisa’s coming here?’
‘Yes,’ said Tom, taking a deep breath. ‘Our Louisa is finally coming home.’
I glanced at Steve. The can of Coke in his hand was shaking. He seemed stricken by the news of Louisa’s return.
When I got home late Thursday night, June was sound asleep but Hannah and Ben were waiting up for me. I explained to them exactly what had happened.
‘But what’s a coma?’ Hannah asked, pale with worry.
‘It’s like a deep sleep where the person can’t be woken up and doesn’t respond normally to pain, light or sound,’ I said, having memorised Mike’s spiel. ‘When Jesse hit her head on the steering wheel, her brain had a severe traumatic injury and she went into a coma straight away.’
‘But she’ll be okay, won’t she?’ Ben said.
‘I don’t know,’ I whispered. ‘I just don’t know.’
I said goodnight to the kids and made myself a cup of peppermint tea before stretching out on the lounge. I tried closing my eyes but kept opening them to stare at a photo of Jesse, Carly and me on the side table. It had been taken at a Robbie Williams concert last year. We all looked so animated, joyful … alive.
After a restless night’s sleep, I spent most of Friday at the hospital. Not that I knew what to do. Mostly I just sat with Jesse when her mum, dad and Steve took a break.
In the afternoon I had a longer chat with Mike over coffee in the hospital cafeteria. He told me that although Jesse was stable, it was still touch and go.
‘It might be days, weeks, maybe even months, before she recovers,’ he said.
‘So you don’t even have an approximate time line for her improvement?’
‘I wish it was that simple,’ he replied.
‘Can’t you do something? Anything? We’re all just waiting around. Aren’t there any drugs you can give her to make her better?’
‘Stella, do you think if there was a magic bullet we wouldn’t have tried it? I’m sorry but we’re doing the best we can.’
I started tearing up. ‘Well, your best isn’t good enough.’
Mike sighed. ‘Do you know how often I hear that? For all the good we do, when a patient dies—’
‘Are you saying—’
‘No, but it always comes down to the ones who don’t make it, the ones we can’t fix.’
‘But Jesse’s my best friend.’
He held my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. ‘Do you believe in prayer?’ he asked.
I shrugged him off. ‘Not really.’
‘Well, do you believe Jesse can hear when you talk to her?’
I nodded.
‘Good. Then that’s what you should do. Talk to her.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, wiping my eyes. ‘I know you’re doing everything you can. You must be exhausted.’
He placed his hand over mine. ‘I could say the same about you.’
It was at that moment that Steve walked up to us. ‘You two disgust me. I don’t want you seeing my wife,’ he said, glaring at me. ‘And as for you—’
Mi
ke stood up. ‘As for me, Mr Foster,’ he said firmly, ‘I am your wife’s primary doctor and I will thank you to respect that.’
Go, Mike!
Steve looked taken aback. ‘Whatever,’ he muttered before walking away.
Mike resumed his seat. ‘That went well.’
‘He’s such a charmer.’
‘Clearly not pleased Toby and I are on the job.’
‘Yeah, he thought he’d never see you again.’
Later, I went and saw Jesse, despite Steve’s directive. Still, I was careful to keep out of his way. She didn’t look like Jesse; so many bandages and tubes. It was frightening. Her poor kids. Dot told me that when they’d eventually been allowed to see her this morning, Emily had been calm, very reserved and quiet, but Oliver had been beside himself, in floods of tears, not wanting to leave his mum’s side when visiting time was up. Heartbreaking.
As banged up as Jesse looked, now that she had made it through those crucial first twenty-four hours, I was confident she’d pull through. She had to. She was surrounded by the best medical care in the country. And as for the ridiculous talk that she’d somehow deliberately done this to herself, it was cruel. I knew Jesse well enough to know that even though Steve was a prick, she’d never leave her children voluntarily.
‘ow are we ever going to get through this?’ Louisa’s dad, Tom, had asked her when he’d rung with the news about Jesse’s accident.
Louisa had been over the question herself dozens of times since he’d called. Now, she was slouched in a smelly hot taxi on her way from Sydney airport to the hospital where Jesse was lying in a coma.
The taxi wound its way through streets clogged with peak-hour traffic. The place felt more familiar than Louisa had expected, as though it had been months not years since she’d left. There were a few more buildings, and certainly more pedestrians and cyclists weaving their way along the roads. Sydney was a clean city, a sunny city, she’d give it that.
She looked down at her nails, which were bleeding and sore. She had chewed them to the quick. She felt numb. What if Jesse died and Louisa never got to say goodbye? They had been close once, best friends, but Louisa hadn’t been part of her sister’s life for a long time. There were phone calls, sure, but that wasn’t the same, was it? Louisa had left family life behind when she bought her ticket to freedom.
What if she hadn’t told her all those things? What if she’d continued to keep them secret? Would Jesse be in this state now?
The guilt was agonising. Louisa could barely face herself, let alone her parents and Jesse. If only she hadn’t had that horrible conversation with Jesse. If only …
‘Here do?’ the taxi driver asked.
‘I guess.’
Louisa stood outside the main hospital entrance. To her right, a mix of orderlies and nurses crowded together, smoking, laughing. She inhaled deeply before walking towards the enormous glass doors. When they silently slid open, she hesitated. The anticipation of seeing Jesse in a coma was frightening. She could feel the perspiration trickling down her forehead. It felt like thirty degrees even though it wasn’t yet 9 am.
The antiseptic smell hit her as soon as she walked in. She suppressed the urge to vomit. Standing in the entrance area, she stared at the dull grey carpet, cream walls and a huge painting of an Australian landscape on the wall, with white lilies in a glass vase on a white marble table below it. The flowers were on the turn, their scent more like odour than fragrance.
Louisa was wasting time and she knew it. Avoidance therapy, her analyst called it. But she wasn’t in a hurry to move. Besides, her feet seemed incapable of carrying her towards the reception desk.
‘Louisa?’
She turned to see a tall, slim woman walking towards her. Pretty face.
‘Stella. Stella Sparks, remember?’ the woman said, extending her hand to shake Louisa’s.
Louisa remembered Stella as having dark hair, cut in a neat bob. Now it was much blonder and longer, kind of messy and easy. She still had the same generous smile, though.
‘I’ll take you upstairs if you like,’ she went on. ‘Your mum and dad are waiting. How was your flight?’
‘Long.’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘I’m not quite sure,’ Louisa replied. ‘How’s Jesse?’
‘No change, I’m afraid.’ Tears trickled down Stella’s cheeks. ‘But she’s hanging in there.’
Louisa followed her along a corridor lined with breakfast carts and linen trolleys. Hanging in there: she repeated Stella’s words in her mind. It had been four days now since the accident. She’d hoped her father had been exaggerating the extent of Jesse’s injuries, but it didn’t seem so.
‘At least she’s been moved to a private room,’ said Stella, as they took the elevator up to the third floor.
When they arrived at Jesse’s door, Stella spoke again. ‘I have to warn you, she’s pretty messed up. I’ll be downstairs at the cafe if you need me.’
She hugged Louisa and walked back in the direction they’d just come. Louisa flinched. Her heart was pounding. Blinking away tears, she took a deep breath, knocked and opened the door. She saw her dad first and fixed her eyes on him. She didn’t want to look beyond. Didn’t want to see her sister. To face reality.
Tom walked over, arms outstretched. ‘It’s been too long,’ he whispered, enfolding her in his arms, his eyes wet with tears.
Louisa had only seen her father cry once. It was beyond painful. He looked so much greyer than when she’d last seen him. And older. Much older.
Dot was sitting in a grey hospital chair leaning against a grey steel hospital bed. A bed that Louisa quickly turned away from. Dot was holding something in her left hand; her right hand extended towards Louisa. Louisa walked over, took it and squeezed hard.
‘You’re here now, thank God.’ Dot took a deep breath. ‘I feel so weak, like He might take me at any moment.’
‘Who, Mum? Who might take you?’
‘You know,’ she replied, looking heavenward. ‘God.’
‘She’s not good,’ said Tom, looking down at Jesse.
Louisa forced herself to look at her sister, too. Once she did, she found she couldn’t turn away. This was real. Jesse was lying in a bed barely a metre from where Louisa stood. Her head was bandaged and her cheeks were bruised and discoloured beyond recognition. Tubes ran from her mouth and nose. The rest of her body was covered with white bedcovers, hidden from view. In addition to the IV pole, there were various machines that beeped and whistled at short intervals. Louisa only knew it was Jesse because her name was printed in large black type on a white cardboard sign stuck to the bedhead.
She closed her eyes. ‘What happened?’
‘Freak car accident,’ started Tom, ‘resulting in—’
‘Severe blunt head injury,’ finished Dot.
‘How?’ Louisa asked.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Dot said. ‘You’re wondering what we could have done to stop her. Why didn’t we do more to help her?’
Louisa hadn’t been thinking that at all. ‘Mum, it was an accident. It was no one’s fault.’
Tears slid down Dot’s face. ‘Jesse was … is … troubled. You know that. It’s always been there, of course, but lately it’s been getting worse.’
‘Don’t, Dot!’ said Tom. ‘This was an accident, nothing more. Jesse’s a good girl.’
‘Tell me more about the accident,’ Louisa prompted.
‘It seems Jesse pulled over to the side of the road. Stopped her car and then …’ Tom wiped away his tears with a damp blue handkerchief. ‘A witness said she accelerated into a gum tree.’
‘What sane person does that?’ Dot asked.
‘Her foot must have slipped,’ Louisa said.
‘That’s what I think happened, too,’ agreed Tom. ‘The way she’s been tapping her foot of late, it makes sense.’
‘So she’s stressed?’ Louisa asked.
This was her fault, no doubt about it. Jesse had found o
ut about Steve, then, on top of that, Louisa had dropped her bombshell. It had been too much for Jesse to cope with.
‘The accident looked suspicious,’ Dot said.
‘For Christ’s sake, you weren’t there, woman.’
‘But the police, Tom—’
‘The police?’ Louisa said. ‘Why are they involved?’
‘The police are investigating,’ Dot said quietly. ‘There were no skid marks … ’
Tom shook his head. ‘It’s not true.’
This was unbelievable. There was no way Jesse would have deliberately driven into a tree. She loved her kids too much to do something that reckless. Louisa just didn’t buy it.
‘What were you talking about the other day when she collapsed?’ Dot asked.
‘I can’t remember,’ Louisa lied.
‘Think, Louisa,’ encouraged Tom. ‘It could provide an important clue. Maybe she fainted again behind the wheel.’
‘What with her fainting and foot tapping,’ said Dot. ‘I told you she wasn’t well, Tom.’
Louisa looked at Jesse again. ‘This is the worst thing that could have happened. Jesse, of all people. How are Steve and the kids taking it?’
She was relieved Steve wasn’t here. It was going to be hard facing him, knowing what she did about him and how he’d treated Jesse.
‘You know Steve; stoic, as usual,’ said Tom.
Yeah, right, thought Louisa.
She took a seat on the other side of Jesse’s bed. Wake up, she willed her. For God’s sake, just wake up.
Carly was running through the streets, listening to her iPod and trying not to think about anything except the moment, the pretty gardens, the barking dogs, the other early morning joggers. All she wanted to do was run and keep running, to forget about the last couple of days … weeks. Tears streamed down her face as she repeatedly told herself to focus, to push through the sadness and pain. Though she kept running, not even slowing for the many hills in the area, the image of Jesse in her hospital bed, helpless, unconscious, covered in bandages, tubes sticking out of her, filled her mind.
It was all Carly’s fault. That much she knew. The last few days she’d operated on autopilot, not really knowing what to do with herself. She’d burst into tears in the supermarket, composed herself enough to buy bananas, bread and milk, then burst into tears again at the chemist buying Panadol and Vitamin B12. She’d been a mess all weekend and was no better today.
