by LJM Owen
‘Police or ambulance?’
‘Ambulance! Taid! Taid!’
‘What’s happened, ma’am?’
‘It’s my grandfather. There was someone here. My grandfather’s on the floor. He’s not breathing.’
‘Ma’am, I need you to stay calm. Are you saying you have an intruder? Are they still in the building? Are you safe?’
‘They’re gone. But my grandfather’s not breathing. Taid!’
The operator asked Elizabeth to confirm the address; she answered on autopilot.
‘Ambulance and police are on their way. Now, ma’am, can you feel for a pulse?’
Elizabeth grasped Taid’s wrist. She couldn’t feel anything. ‘There’s nothing!’
‘Ma’am, I’m going to walk you through giving your grandfather CPR until the ambulance arrives. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ replied Elizabeth, although she felt rising panic. She swallowed it and concentrated on listening to the instructions.
‘First, I need you to place your grandfather on his back.’
‘He already is!’
‘All right. Now, keep the phone pressed to your ear, and put your other hand in the middle of his chest, next to where his heart is.’
Elizabeth fumbled to flatten her palm on the right spot. ‘Okay.’
‘Now we’re going to do compressions together. You need to put your whole body into this. His heart is under his ribs, so you have to push very hard.’
Elizabeth could barely manage to squeak, ‘Okay.’
‘Now, say it out loud with me, one, two, three, four.’
‘Taid!’ Elizabeth sobbed, as she started pushing down on his ribcage with the force of her whole body. ‘Two, three, four, Taid!’
‘Ma’am, you need to stay calm.’
‘I am calm!’ Elizabeth screamed. ‘Two, three, four.’
Time seemingly stood still as Elizabeth continued her erratic, panicky counting as she compressed Taid’s chest.
After what seemed like a lifetime, she became aware of someone pulling her away from him, taking the phone from her hand and telling the woman at the other end that paramedics were in attendance. The room was suddenly full of people in uniforms.
Elizabeth was gathered into someone’s arms and ushered from the room into the corridor. The tear-streaked, fearful faces of her family were gathered there. Grandmère Maddie’s expression was panic-stricken, her normally smooth bun a lightning storm of silver around her face.
‘We have a heartbeat!’
Gasps and sobs of relief chorused around her.
Taid’s heart had restarted. He was breathing, but remained unconscious. Attached to a mask and machines, he was wheeled to the waiting ambulance. Grandmère trailed behind the stretcher, calling his name softly, ‘Rhys.’
After they had departed, the family went inside to gather what they’d need before heading to the hospital. Elizabeth returned briefly to the library. The room had been ransacked – books pulled from shelves, printed bones scattered across the floor, the papers on Taid’s desk messier than their normal state.
Who was the intruder? What had he been looking for? He had been tall, even for a man. And that scent… Elizabeth had detected a distinct trace of aftershave as the intruder shoved past her. Why did it smell familiar? The whispered voice: had it been tinged with an American accent?
Filled with cold rage toward whoever had done this to her beloved Taid, Elizabeth closed the door to the library and joined the others in the car.
—
In a timeless nightmare of fluorescent lights, hard plastic seats and pinging machines the family waited for news of Taid’s condition. Eventually a doctor – one of so many who had come and gone with the same set of questions – approached them with a determined set to her face.
Taid’s heart had stopped twice more since he was admitted to the emergency department. They’d conducted surgery to insert a pacemaker and he was now stable, though likely to be in shock once he regained consciousness. He had also sustained some broken ribs during the course of CPR, so would remain in the hospital for at least a week to ten days until all his medical teams were satisfied he could be safely released into homecare.
That morning Taid woke briefly, for just long enough to smile at them all, then fell into a snore.
Over the next few days Elizabeth and Sam took turns to look after their quietly distraught Grandmère. They prised her from Taid’s bedside late at night and took her home for some rest, then drove her back to the hospital at the crack of dawn to resume her post by her husband’s side, doggedly clasping his hand. Both sisters were considerably aggravated by the game of musical car spaces all visitors were forced into by the hospital’s ridiculous parking arrangements, designed by the local government seemingly to maximise its ability to levy fines on sick patients and anxious families.
All the while, guilt and uncertainty gnawed at Elizabeth. What had the intruder been after? Was it something to do with her investigation into the Golden Tomb? As bizarre and unlikely as it seemed, was this incident in some way related to the theft of her journal in Cairo? Had Elizabeth inadvertently set off a chain of events that had resulted in her grandfather being attacked in his own library?
—
A few days after Taid had regained consciousness, Elizabeth found a space on the fourth floor of the hospital carpark. She stopped to take a breath before heading inside. The crisp, dry air of a Canberra winter morning filled her lungs as she looked into a sky so light blue it was almost white. Despite her shock and lingering guilt, she tried to focus on the police interview ahead.
By the time she reached Taid’s ward, a pair of police officers had arrived to interview her and her grandfather. Grandmère was asked to step outside.
Blue-uniformed, guns at their sides, the two bulky officers seemed to take up half of Taid’s room. After cursory introductions, and a warning from an attending nurse that any signs of stress in his patient would conclude the interview, Sergeant Morgan and Constable Singh began their enquiries. ‘Why were you in the library with the intruder?’ Sergeant Morgan asked Taid.
‘I’m not sure.’
‘What happened?’ she asked.
‘I don’t remember.’
‘Did you know the person who broke in?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t remember what happened.’
Elizabeth recognised Taid’s please-leave-me-alone politeness. He usually applied it to family members when they interrupted him mid-thought.
‘As we explained to you over the phone,’ the nurse said, ‘it’s not unusual for patients to experience memory loss after a traumatic event.’
‘Nonetheless, Mr Evans, do you have any idea what the intruder may have been after in your library?’ Sergeant Morgan asked.
‘I apologise but, no, I can’t imagine what anyone would want from my library. And I don’t have any memories of the day before my accident. I don’t have any memories at all until about two days ago.’
Taid’s voice was increasingly weak as he spoke.
‘It’s just a home library,’ Elizabeth interjected. ‘It’s full of books and papers.’
‘We’ve taken a look, Miss Pimms…’
‘Dr Pimms.’
‘Apologies, Dr Pimms. We’ve taken a thorough look through the contents of the room. Some of the items seem as if they might be valuable.’
‘The skeletal remains? They’re not real. They’re 3D printouts.’
‘They certainly look real.’ Sergeant Morgan cracked a smile. ‘The first officers on the scene wondered what on earth they’d stumbled into. Our forensics team identified them straight away, though.’
‘No, we’re not talking about the bones,’ Constable Singh said, ‘or faux bones, or whatever they are. We’re talking about the manuscripts. Our forensics people weren’t sure, but they said they l
ooked quite old.’ He turned to Taid. ‘How old is the oldest object in your library, Mr Evans?’
‘Perhaps four hundred years…’ Taid trailed off.
Elizabeth was startled by that but hid it as she glanced at her grandfather. What exactly did Taid have in his collection?
‘Perhaps a little older. A page or two from some old family ledgers. They’re not valuable, I assure you.’
‘They sound as though they could be quite valuable to the right person,’ Sergeant Morgan said. ‘How many people know about them?’
‘Very few,’ Taid muttered. ‘I’m sorry to have been of little help. I’ll let you know if I remember anything.’
Morgan and Singh did not seem satisfied with the interview but acquiesced to the nurse’s glare. Singh handed a business card to Taid as they said their goodbyes and lumbered from the room.
Elizabeth followed them out to check on Grandmère Maddie. Her lovely French Berber grandmother, who usually kept the family running on an even keel with boundless energy, impressive organisation and mock sternness, had become quiet and withdrawn since the attack on Taid.
‘I can go back in now?’ Grandmère asked, having waited just outside the door.
‘Of course,’ Elizabeth said, rubbing the back of her shoulder. ‘Would you like me to get you another hot drink?’
‘No, thank you.’ Grandmère’s voice was small and wavering.
Elizabeth looked into her grandmother’s face; there were tears in the corners of her eyes. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Police, hospitals, doctors, surgery… I don’t like any of this.’
Elizabeth hugged her. ‘No-one does.’ She felt her grandmother begin to sob.
‘It’s all my fault,’ Grandmère said in muffled tones.
Elizabeth leant back and held her at arm’s length. ‘How can it be?’
‘When Rhys heard the noises in his library, when he said he was going downstairs to check, I didn’t think it was important. I went back to sleep.’ Elizabeth’s grandmother began to cry in earnest. ‘If I’d gone with him this wouldn’t have happened. The man in green wouldn’t have attacked Rhys.’
Green? Elizabeth thought back to the moment she walked into Taid’s brightly lit library, the intruder standing over him. Yes, he had been wearing dark green clothing, not black…but Elizabeth hadn’t mentioned that detail to anyone except the police. ‘How do you know the man was wearing green?’
Grandmère waved one hand, as if to dismiss the question. ‘Rhys told me.’
The only way Taid could possibly have known that detail was if he remembered the incident. So why was he feigning forgetfulness? ‘Taid told you about what happened in the library that night?’
‘Of course.’
Hours later, while Grandmère visited the downstairs cafe, Elizabeth interrogated an intermittently dozing Taid.
‘Taid?’
‘Yes, Beth?’
‘You told the police you couldn’t remember what happened.’
‘I can’t.’
He sounded groggy.
‘But you told Grandmère what colour clothing the intruder was wearing.’
‘Did I?’
‘Taid, please open your eyes and look at me.’
Elizabeth’s grandfather complied.
‘Do you know who attacked you or why they were there?’
‘Of course not.’
For the first time in her life, Elizabeth was certain her grandfather was lying to her. ‘Taid?’
Quiet snores rose from the bed.
Each time Elizabeth was alone with Taid thereafter she tried to prise more information from him. ‘Taid, you said the intruder was wearing a dark green outfit.’
‘Did I?’
‘Yes! Which means you can remember something. Why won’t you elaborate?’
‘I don’t remember anything, Beth,’ Taid would say, then promptly fall asleep.
After her third attempt, Elizabeth lost her temper. ‘You’re lying! Why?’
The colour leached from Taid’s face and his mouth worked like a goldfish’s. Machines pinged, nurses came running.
Elizabeth felt ashamed to have pushed him into an episode, but why wouldn’t he be honest with her? What if he knew something that could help the police catch the intruder who had almost killed him?
She realised that, whatever it was, he wasn’t going to tell her, and continuing to push him would only cause a rift between them. She just had to hope that the police would discover who had invaded their home.
—
Returning to work several days later, Elizabeth explained to Judy what had occurred in Taid’s library. She kept the story as brief as possible. ‘I’m incredibly sorry to hear that,’ said a stricken Judy.
Elizabeth reached out to pat the older woman’s arm, which was surprisingly muscular, given Judy’s age.
‘When will Rhys be receiving visitors?’
‘Not for a while, I think. I’ll let you know.’
‘Yes, please do.’ Judy’s face brightened a little. ‘There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you about, which might improve your day.’
Elizabeth hoped it was someone to lighten the load. ‘A new staff member?’
‘Far better than that!’ Judy’s usual demeanour had returned, her mop of grey curls bouncing as she spoke. ‘I’ve been planning this all year. Given how much you enjoy working on Egyptian collections, and since you can translate hieroglyphics and hieratic, I’ve arranged for you to interview for a twelve-month exchange program with the Egyptian special collections of the British Main Library!’
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open.
‘On the same salary, of course,’ Judy continued, hands waving with excitement, ‘with a supplement for the higher cost of living in London. And you would be, wait for it, cataloguing Egyptian finds that have been in long-term storage since they were first received over a century ago.’
Memories of months spent researching ancient Egyptian skeletal remains at the Natural History Museum flashed through Elizabeth’s mind. London’s grey skies, which glowed orange at night, the Underground, the tunnel buskers and, oh! Egyptology. In London. Yes! ‘Judy, that sounds amazing, but even if I applied…’
‘You’d get it,’ Judy said, squeezing Elizabeth’s arm. ‘I’ve seen to that.’
In the phrenic library, Oliver cleared her throat.
This is not the first time Judy has been exceedingly, possibly excessively, helpful. Perhaps it is time to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.
‘I want to say yes straight away,’ Elizabeth said slowly, ‘but I have to ask, why? Not that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for my family, but why are you going out of your way for me like this?’
Judy frowned for a microsecond. ‘I’ve told you, I’m so grateful to your grandfather for helping me after my husband died. I’m trying to reciprocate his kindness.’
The answer was too practised. Elizabeth had asked Taid about it last year. He had confirmed that he had been kind to Judy, certainly, but in his mind not enough to warrant the kind of gratitude Judy was showing. ‘Judy…are you telling me everything?’
Judy’s cheeks reddened ever so slightly.
Unfortunately, Christopher chose that very moment to wander over from the Meirionnydd Room. ‘Hello, I could do with a hand if one of you is free?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Judy said, hurrying out from behind the staff counter.
Elizabeth’s frustration grew. Taid and Judy were both lying to her, or at the very least they were withholding something. What on earth could it be?
—
Standing beneath one of the sixteen stained-glass windows of the Mahony Griffin Library’s foyer, cafe and bookshop, Elizabeth allowed herself to sink into the colours and let go of the tension and guilt she had carried sin
ce the night Taid was attacked. The French-Belgian dalle de verre – a method of cutting glass so that it maximised light refraction – cast dazzling patterns across the space. Hints of Venus and Mars, as well as the sun and stars, stood out in themes of red, blue or rainbow.
A susurrus of conversation echoed around the marble foyer, washing over Elizabeth. All around her, friends bustled to meet one another, while students and family historians made rushed phone calls as they exited the reading rooms for a quick break and a coffee.
‘Elizabeth,’ Nathan said quietly from behind her.
She turned.
He looked more serious than she had ever seen him. His eyes were clouded, his fingers tugging at his short brown hair. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Thank you, but Taid’s doing okay now. He’ll even be allowed home from hospital soon.’
‘No, I’m sorry for…well, I’m incredibly sorry for what happened to your grandfather, of course, but I meant I’m sorry for…before.’
Elizabeth clamped down on the next thought to enter her brain, ensuring it didn’t reach her tongue. In the aftermath of the incident in Taid’s library she had clean forgotten about Nathan’s difficulty with the realities of her forensic work. Obviously he hadn’t. Be kind, she reminded herself. She reached out to pat his shoulder. ‘It’s quite okay. I’m fine to move on as though nothing happened, if you are?’
The relief on his face made it clear she had chosen the right thing to say. Phew! Score one for Elizabeth’s social awareness.
‘Shall we?’ Nathan held out a crooked arm to her.
Elizabeth looped hers through it and wiggled a foot jauntily. ‘Let’s.’ She squeezed his arm to her side, letting him know everything was truly forgiven.
‘How about you go and grab your favourite table and I’ll get the coffees?’ Nathan suggested. ‘The others shouldn’t be too far away.’
A few minutes later, as they joined her at the table, mugs in hand, she realised that Nathan, Rhoz and Llew must have been talking about her. Their faces displayed their concern.
‘I’m okay, really,’ she said. ‘Can we please not talk about what happened to my grandfather today? He’s going to be okay and that’s all that matters.’
