The Girl in the Corner

by Amanda Prowse

  She started crying.

  ‘Don’t cry, Rae. We’ll be there in no time. The hospital will look after them both. Try not to worry. Remember: this is awful for us, but for the hospital team it’s routine – they will know exactly what to do.’

  His words helped a little. ‘I can’t believe I let them travel on public transport when my mum wasn’t feeling well. She said last week she’d had ongoing heartburn – I said she needed to see the doctor again, although I still thought it was probably nothing to worry about. But she said she’d had it for months. I should have paid more attention.’

  ‘They had a taxi from both houses to the station and an hour or so sitting on the train. It’s the quickest, easiest way for them to get from door to door. You can’t blame yourself. And it might be nothing to do with her heartburn; let’s just wait and see. No point in worrying until we know there is something to worry about.’

  Rae ignored him. Her dad was distressed in a way she had not heard before and an ambulance was on its way to pick up her mum and that felt like reason enough to worry.

  ‘I can’t stop thinking how I was a bit fed up with making them cups of tea last night – it felt like a pain, having to traipse up and down the stairs – and now I feel terrible. I snapped at my mum a bit and I wish I hadn’t. I hope they know I don’t mind making them tea. I really don’t.’

  ‘They do know that, love.’ Howard reached over and took her hand and she let him, taking comfort from the contact and willing him to drive a bit faster.

  He dropped her at the front of the hospital and went to park the car. She ran, blindly searching for signs that might help her find her way to A&E.

  A smiling lady with a large sticker on her chest that said ‘Volunteer’ approached her. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘I need to get to A&E – my mum’s being brought here by ambulance. My dad is older and a bit flustered.’

  ‘Follow me.’ The woman walked briskly and Rae had to jog to keep up.

  ‘Thanks.’ She queued at a wide desk and was about to give her mum’s name and address when she spied her dad, sitting on a chair in a corridor. He was bent over with his elbows resting on his knees. Wearing his pyjama top underneath his jacket, he hadn’t brushed his hair or shaved, and he looked old and grey. It was rare for her to see him this unkempt and it tore at her heart.

  ‘Oh, Dad!’ She ran over and sat in the chair next to him, taking him in her arms. He reached up and gripped her forearms with his trembling fingers. His eyes looked close to tears and the creases on his brow seemed fixed.

  ‘I called your sister.’ He spoke softly, a little breathless.

  ‘Yes, she’ll be on her way, don’t worry. What’s happening?’ Rae asked gently, when he seemed to have calmed a little.

  ‘I couldn’t wake her up, Rae. I thought she was dozing so I left her for a bit and went to the loo and cleaned my teeth and I was going in to see if she was ready for a cup of tea when I noticed that she looked odd. She is always up with the lark, as you know; says it’s the best bit of the day . . .’ He gave her a brief, lopsided smile. ‘And as soon as I start moving around that usually disturbs her. I put my hand on her shoulder and she didn’t move and her mouth looked a little bit open and she was breathing in a funny way; she sounded like she was struggling.’ He paused and looked along the corridor. ‘I want to be in there with her right now. They told me to wait here, but I would rather be by her side,’ he whimpered.

  ‘Of course you would, Dad.’ You on the left, her on the right. ‘But I expect they need to be alone with her to do their job and they don’t want to be worrying about you too. So we’ll just sit here and wait. It’ll all be okay.’

  Howard jogged in through the doorway. He knelt in front of her dad and placed his hand on his shoulder. ‘Len, we’ll be right here no matter what. We won’t leave you.’ Rae felt her heart flex with love for her husband, who knew the right thing to say. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea, something to eat, anything? We need to look after you; can’t have you taking up the bed next to Maureen.’

  Her dad shook his head. ‘No thanks, son. I just want to be in there with her.’

  ‘They’ll be calling for you any minute, I am sure.’ Howard winked at her over her dad’s head.

  ‘I called your sister.’ Her dad sat up straight and looked now towards the double swing door.

  ‘Yes, don’t worry, Dad, she’ll be on her way.’ She knew his repetition must be down to shock, but it also showed how badly he wanted his family around him.

  ‘I expect she and Lee will stay at the house and we are a bit low on bread and milk.’

  ‘We can sort that out, Dad; I’ll pick some up. Don’t worry about a thing.’

  He nodded and looked down at the stone-coloured linoleum.

  ‘Mr Pritchard?’

  Rae sat up and gave the young doctor a small wave. Howard pointed at his father-in-law.

  ‘Would you like to come through? Are you family?’ he asked Howard.

  ‘Yes, I am his son-in-law and it’s my wife’s mother you are treating.’

  ‘Okay, well, why don’t you all come through.’

  Rae could tell from the man’s straight-mouthed smile, considered expression and thoughtful tone that the news was not good. She felt her bowel spasm and her blood run cold as she walked by her dad’s side. Howard followed, and all four entered a small waiting room with low squeaky orange vinyl chairs and a crude faux-oil painting of a large bowl of fruit screwed to the wall.

  She and Howard sat either side of her dad and the doctor stood in front of them with his iPad raised to his chest. He looked at the painting and took a deep breath, as if about to give a speech to a much bigger audience.

  ‘It is not good news, I am afraid.’ He paused, as if giving them a chance to fill in the blanks. ‘Mrs Pritchard has suffered a severe stroke, caused by a blood clot. We have given her all the medication we can and carried out a brain scan. I am sorry to say that I feel any further intervention would make little difference. She is unconscious and it is highly unlikely that she will regain consciousness.’ The doctor paused again to let the facts permeate. Rae felt her blood run sluggishly in her veins and the doctor’s voice echoed.

  ‘Do you mean . . . do you mean she won’t regain consciousness today?’ Her dad’s words cut the air with a naivety that was as desperate as it was sad.

  The doctor finally made eye contact with Rae, as if seeking her assistance to help deliver the blow. She wished she wasn’t so numb.

  ‘I am so very sorry, Mr Pritchard, but I do not think your wife will regain consciousness at all. It is in my experience usually the case that patients with this level of damage to the brain do not survive. It is highly likely she will slip away any time now.’

  ‘Slip away,’ Len repeated quietly. ‘Is she in any pain?’

  ‘No. Not at all. No pain.’ The doctor was adamant and Rae felt her dad’s body sag with some small measure of relief. She felt strangely removed from the situation, as if it was happening to someone else and she was an observer.

  Howard coughed and sat forward. ‘Is there any surgery that can be done, anywhere, by anyone? We can pay. Not that I doubt she is being looked after here,’ he added, ‘but is there anything at all that can be done, anywhere we can take her, any experts who can maybe give a second opinion?’

  Rae looked at her husband and was happy that he was able to reach through the fog of what was happening and fight her mum’s corner, ask the questions that would probably only occur to her later.

  ‘I appreciate your position, I do – if it was my mum I would be asking the same things. You can of course get a second opinion if that is what you wish, but I can say with absolute confidence that the brain scan shows there is nothing to be done. I have had my diagnosis confirmed by my senior registrar.’

  Rae saw the lingering look that passed between the doctor and her husband. It was like a secret code, an affirmation from the young man to Howard, who stood out as the leader of the trio, the
one whose brain was least clouded by shock and emotion.

  ‘I see.’ She heard Howard acquiesce and saw him sit back a little in the chair.

  Her dad stood. ‘Can I go and sit with her, please?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I will take you through.’ The doctor let out a big breath that sounded a lot like relief.

  ‘Do you want us to come with you, Dad?’ Rae stood.

  He shook his head. ‘No. I just want to have a chat with her and then I’ll come back, okay?’

  ‘Okay, Dad,’ she managed. ‘We’ll be right here.’

  ‘Keep an eye out for your sister,’ he offered over his shoulder.

  ‘Will do.’ She nodded and watched as the doctor led him out of the small room. Howard almost swooped forward from his chair and wrapped his arms around her. He rocked her, as if she were sobbing and not sitting dry-eyed with a million thoughts whirring in her mind.

  ‘It’s okay, Rae.’

  ‘It’s not, though, is it? My mum is going to die and I don’t know what to say and I don’t know what to do or even how to feel. I don’t think I will see her alive again, Howard. And that just doesn’t seem possible.’

  ‘I know. I know.’

  The two leaned back in their chairs and that was where they sat. Time was skewed for Rae. Her mind was running through her to-do list – I must put George’s dinner jacket in for dry cleaning and pick up croissants for their breakfast – when suddenly a bolt of realisation lanced her thoughts: None of that matters! Your mum is dying! She is going to die, Rae! And no chore will matter! Nothing matters, not anything Howard has done and not your wanting to be something more than a handy number in a family phone, the person to call to get things done. Your mum is going to die!

  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but a while later there was a gentle knock on the door. The doctor walked in and nodded at Rae and she knew.

  ‘How is she?’ She sat forward in the chair, her hand gripping Howard’s.

  ‘I am so sorry . . .’ He paused. ‘But your mum passed away a few minutes ago.’

  ‘Right.’ She was aware of the cold tone to her response and would have been hard pushed to explain why. Shock was a sneaky thing – it had crept up on her without her realising.

  ‘Your dad is asking for you both.’

  Rae stood and leaned against her husband. The two walked along the corridor and she heard the sounds of everyday life all around her, the beep of machines, the shutting of doors, chatter, even laughter and it felt surreal, ridiculous even that at this time, on this, a normal working day for the people in this building, her mum had died.

  My mum died! She died!

  It didn’t matter how many times she said this inside her head or how she tried to make it seem real, the facts just wouldn’t stick, and it took all of her strength not to laugh out loud at the utter absurdity of the suggestion.

  ‘Are you sure you want to go in, Rae?’ Howard asked softly. ‘Because if you don’t, I can go and sit with Len.’

  ‘I’m okay,’ she lied, and followed the doctor in to the narrow room, no more than a cubicle really. Her mum lay on a trolley in her nightdress with a blanket pulled up to her chin. Her dad sat by her side with his head resting on the edge of the trolley and his hands clasped at his chest, possibly in prayer.

  He looked up, his cheeks wet with tears. ‘She’s gone.’ He shook his head. ‘She’s gone.’

  ‘She looks very peaceful.’ Rae spoke the truth as she looked at her mum’s pale face, which she found hard to accept would not laugh with joy or sigh in disapproval ever again. Nothing. Gone.

  I am sorry I snapped at you last night. I didn’t mean it! I love you and I need to talk to you, Mum. There are so many things I want to say to you! I am not ready. Not remotely ready . . .

  Rae felt small, young and pitifully alone, even though she was only a few feet from her dad and her husband, who gripped her hand tightly.

  ‘I can’t believe it!’ her dad cried again, loudly, and it frightened her, made her jump. ‘I can’t believe it!’ he called out.

  Rae kissed her mum’s cheek, which was cool but not cold, soft still but already without the substance of a living thing, and it alarmed her.

  ‘Goodbye, Mum.’ She trailed her fingertips over her shoulder and turned to her dad. ‘Do you want us to leave you alone for a bit, Dad, or do you want us to stay here with you?’

  ‘Alone, please,’ he managed through his sobs. ‘Alone.’

  His distress was hard to witness, and Rae thought she might be sick. She placed her hand over her mouth.

  Howard squeezed his father-in-law’s shoulder before reaching for her hand once again. This time they sat in the bigger waiting room with those waiting to head into A&E and the walking wounded. Two young lads, one with a swollen ankle inside a striped football sock, were laughing, nudging each other, eating snacks and chatting at such a volume that she felt their very presence there was misplaced. Rae leaned over and placed her head on Howard’s arm. He encircled her in a hug and held her close. She felt completely numb and wished for tears, thinking that this might in some way help, might make it real. She closed her eyes briefly and, though sleep was impossible, felt herself drift to a place beyond alertness, where voices were a little muffled and the light a little hazy and she was glad of the escape. It was a relief not to have to try to think about what was happening: the truth too painful, too shocking for her to absorb.

  My mum . . . not my mum! It can’t be true.

  Howard sat up straight and she stirred in time to see Debbie-Jo and Lee running across the linoleum. They came to a stop by their chairs.

  ‘Where is she?’ Debbie-Jo stood with her breath coming fast, and wasted no time on a greeting as she looked up towards the ward and the other way towards the corridor as if she might be able to glimpse her.

  They both stood, and Rae shook her head.

  ‘I am so sorry. She’s gone.’ She spoke softly with no clue how best to phrase it.

  ‘What?’ her sister spat. ‘Where?’

  ‘She’s gone, Debbie-Jo. She died.’ The words were foul on her tongue and caused her heart physical pain.

  ‘Why? No! What happened?’

  ‘She had a massive stroke,’ Howard explained.

  Debbie-Jo bobbed as her legs bent beneath her. She felt her way into the free chair behind her. Instantly her tears fell from red-ringed eyes and Rae could only view her sister’s distress with something close to envy.

  ‘Oh my God! Oh no!’ Debbie-Jo bent forward with her forehead on her knees, while Lee sighed and palmed circles on her back.

  The four stood in a cluster, as if all wondering what might happen next, all poorly rehearsed in the etiquette.

  Eventually the doctor appeared. ‘Your dad is in the waiting room. I said I would come and get you.’

  ‘Thank you. This is my sister.’ Rae looked at Debbie-Jo, who still sobbed, and wondered when her own tears might find their way to the surface.

  The sad troupe made their way along the corridor to the waiting room, where her dad sat on the same chair as earlier. Debbie-Jo hurled herself at him and Rae watched as he clambered to his feet and the two stood locked together in a desolate embrace.

  ‘Oh Dad!’ Debbie-Jo called, as if she were a child again and he were on hand to make everything feel a little bit better. Her dad clung to her sister’s jacket. It felt like an intrusion to watch. Rae felt a little surplus to requirements now her big sister had arrived.

  ‘I would like to see her if possible.’ Debbie-Jo broke away.

  ‘They’ve moved her.’ Her dad spoke with a croaky, remote voice that was quite alien.

  There was a hush while Rae tried not to process nor imagine where they might have moved her to and why.

  ‘I just want to see her! Please!’ Debbie-Jo spoke through a mouth contorted with tears.

  Rae stepped forward and faced her sister, trying to find the small aspects of comfort that she had found from standing by her mum. ‘She didn’t really
wake up, Debbie-Jo, but I can promise you she looked peaceful. She really did, she looked peaceful and she wasn’t in any pain.’

  ‘You saw her?’ Debbie-Jo fired.

  ‘Yes,’ Howard answered, also stepping forward, as if trying to form a physical barrier between her and his wife.

  ‘You saw her too?’

  ‘Yes. We were there for her and for your dad.’ He looked sharply at his father-in-law. Rae knew he was trying to remind Debbie-Jo that Len was present and had just lost his wife.

  ‘Well, good for you two! Of course you got your goodbyes!’ Debbie-Jo shook her head. ‘Of course you did.’

  ‘It wasn’t a goodbye.’ Rae swallowed. ‘She had already gone.’

  ‘Well, I want to see her now,’ Debbie-Jo asserted. ‘I don’t mind that it’s not the experience you had, that I am too late. I still want to see my mum!’

  ‘You shall.’ Lee stepped towards her and rubbed his wife’s back. ‘You’ll get your goodbye.’

  ‘What do we need to do, Dad? Do we have to fill in some paperwork or see someone or can we take you home?’ Rae asked, thinking now about getting her dad out of here and back to the house, where she could make him a cup of tea.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.’ He sat back down on the chair and looked at the door, and Rae wondered if, like her, he half-expected someone to walk in and tell them that the whole thing had been a terrible mistake and her mum was coming home.

  Debbie-Jo had insisted she drive their dad home. Rae and Howard followed behind in their car.

  ‘I can’t believe it.’ Rae pictured her mum sipping tea on the sofa the night before and then saw her lying on the gurney, pale, gone, and she wondered how her life could be so altered in just a couple of hours. This seemed to be a habit of late: one minute she was happy, secure, and the next, wham! The rug was pulled from under her and she was sent spiralling.

  She looked over at her husband, who drove silently, slowly, through the traffic. Gone was the urgency of earlier.