“You don’t have to be sorry,” she said, fighting the confusion and fear that made her want to run from the room. “Whatever’s happened, it’s not your fault. Please, Hannah, I’m trying to work out what to do.”
“Will you promise to still love me, Ellie, promise me,” Hannah begged plaintively. “If you still love me, then I’ll be okay, I know I’ll be okay.”
“Of course, silly,” Ellen said, remembering with sudden clarity how Hannah used to climb into her bed when she was scared at night. She could have been no more than three, and Ellen about eleven. Ellen remembered how she had loved the feeling of Hannah’s small, warm body curled up against her, and how protective she had felt of her little sister, wrapping her arms around her and promising that no harm would come to her. Promising her that she would always love her.
“Come on now, Hannah. Come on, try to remember.”
Hannah pulled her head up, her expression exactly the same as that of the little girl she had once been, caught with her hand in the biscuit tin. “I was bored so I went out.” She frowned, which caused her to wince. “For a lunchtime drink. It was nice, really nice and hot and I sat outside and drank cider. I like drinking, Ellie, when I drink the pain stops for a bit.…” Hannah drifted off again, her eyes fluttering shut.
Ellen wanted to ask her what pain—what pain could her bright, beautiful, successful sister possibly be trying so desperately to drown out? But she held her tongue. As difficult as it was, she needed to keep Hannah awake, and she needed to know what had happened to her.
“Hannah? Hannah, look at me.” Ellen waited as Hannah reluctantly wrenched open her one good eye. “Have you been drinking all afternoon?” Ellen asked. “Did you fall over? Did you get hit by a car?”
Hannah frowned. “I don’t think so. Have I?”
“Okay.” Ellen didn’t know what to say. “Okay, so you were in the pub, then you were sitting in the sun, and then what happened?”
“Oh! I met some people, really nice. Lots of fun.” Hannah nodded, smiling as she remembered. “They bought me drinks… it must have been later on, because they’d finished work for the day. City guys, you know. City guys are always the most fun. They bought me champagne and we…”
“What? What did you do?”
“I don’t want to talk about this now, want to sleep, Ellie. Don’t be cross with me anymore.”
“I’m not cross,” Ellen said. “Please, Hannah, I know this is difficult, but I think it’s important—did you take anything, or did anyone give you anything?”
“I danced.” Hannah frowned again. “I danced on the tables for them and then…” Hannah closed her eyes for a second, her face briefly clearing as she fell into a few seconds’ precious unconsciousness. Ellen felt guilty for shaking her out of it again.
“Hannah!” Ellen’s voice was sharp, her chest heavy with dread. “Then what happened?” Hannah’s head snapped up again.
“We got thrown out, for being rowdy. So me and the boys went somewhere else. … Where did we go?” She looked perplexed. “I don’t remember.”
“Boys? Those were men you were with. How many, Hannah? What were their names?”
Hannah brightened. “One was called Nick! Nick—Ellen, can you imagine? I mean I know it’s a common name, but it was nice. It was nice to have a reason to say it out loud again. Nick. Nick. Nick.”
Ellen shook her head, fighting her frustration and worry.
“What happened with Nick, Hannah?” Ellen asked.
Instantly Hannah’s face transformed into a picture of unhappiness. “Oh, Ellen, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, I’ve told you that. You don’t have to be sorry about anything, okay? None of this is your fault. Did this Nick have sex with you?” Ellen dreaded the answer.
“Yes,” Hannah said, eliciting a sob from Ellen. “Yes, and I’m sorry, Ellen. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did. I didn’t realize what I was doing, or how it would change everything.”
“Hannah, was it against your will? Was it this Nick who did this to you? Were you… were you raped, Hannah?”
“Raped? Don’t be so silly. Nick would never hurt me.”
Ellen sank back on her heels, unable to put together any of the pieces. Hannah had got drunk, met some men, taken something, and had sex. But none of that explained the way she looked, her injuries. Had something happened to her later?
“Then what happened to you, Hannah—how did you get hurt? What about the others? What about the other men who were with this Nick?”
Just then Matt reappeared with a mug of steaming coffee.
“I thought I’d better make real coffee, thought it would be more effective than instant,” he mumbled, unable to look either woman in the eye. “Look, I’ll get out of your way, shall I?” he offered.
“Would you stay?” Ellen asked, her green eyes large. “Please.”
Unwilling to leave her to deal with this alone, as much as he might want to, Matt nodded and sat down in the armchair opposite the sofa, folding his hands and dropping his head as if in prayer.
“Hannah, you need to try and remember what happened tonight. After you left the pub with Nick and the others, what happened to you?”
“We went for a walk!” Hannah seemed pleased with herself. “The boys said I could do with some fresh air and we went for a walk, in the park. I suppose that must have been how I got so muddy.”
“And you had sex with this Nick?” Ellen asked again.
“Oh no, no.” Hannah shook her head slowly, contradicting herself completely. “No, they wanted to, but I didn’t. I said I was tired and I was going to get a cab and go home but then… I think I fell asleep, that’s right, I was so, so tired. And when I woke up again I was alone.” Hannah sighed. “I’m still so tired. Can I go to sleep now, Ellie, can I? Will you hug me while I’m asleep?”
“No, Hannah. Listen, I need you to look at me and listen to me for a minute, okay?”
Hannah focused her gaze on Ellen.
“Hannah, I think… I think you’ve been attacked, beaten up and maybe even raped. I think we need to call the police and an ambulance, okay? I’m going to do that now.”
“No, no.” Hannah shook her head again. “No. I just need to sleep, Ellie. I’m very tired now.”
“I know, but we need to get you looked at and we need to find out who hurt you like this.”
“Why?” Hannah blinked.
“So the police can arrest them!”
“No. I’m okay, I’m fine. I don’t mind the pain. I deserve the pain, the pain is nothing at all, because now you know. Now you understand and you’ve promised to still love me, so everything is fine. So that makes all of this okay. Sleep now. Do you know, I feel like I haven’t slept in almost a year. Not since…” Hannah drifted off.
“No, Hannah, this isn’t okay. Hannah?” Hannah crumpled sideways, her head thudding against the cushioned arm of the sofa. “Wake up. I’m going to call an ambulance and the police.”
“No!” Hannah suddenly sprang awake at Ellen’s words. “No, no, no, no. Ellie, please, please don’t. Please. I don’t want the hospital, I don’t want the police. I just want to sleep. I just want to stay here with you. I’m fine, Ellie, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.” For the first time that evening, Hannah looked anxious and scared. “Please, Ellie. Please let me stay here with you, don’t make me go to the hospital. I’m fine, I’m really fine. It’s just like that time I fell out of the tree and you thought I was dead—I was fine then, wasn’t I? I was fine.” A dry sob tore through Hannah’s throat. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Ellie. Don’t make me.”
Resolute, Hannah dragged a cushion across her belly, drew her legs up beneath her, and closed her eyes.
Ellen looked at Matt. “I don’t know what to do,” she said bleakly. “Look at her. Should we call an ambulance?”
Matt looked at the slumbering woman.
“Maybe we should wait, let
her sleep. Wait for her to wake up and see if she can remember anything else. She looks bad but she was talking okay, and she didn’t seem in too much pain; she didn’t seem to have any trouble breathing.”
“But what if she’s got internal bleeding, or a brain injury?” Ellen was worried. “We should call an ambulance; they’ll take her to hospital, x-ray her and things.” She realized that it would be a relief to pass her sister into someone else’s capable hands.
Matt bit his lip, leaning forward, resting his wrists on his knees.
“If we take her to hospital now, they’ll call in the police. When I was a cub reporter they sent me to cover this case once, of a young schoolgirl attacked by a load of teenagers. I talked to her parents. They said that what she went through after the attack was almost as bad as what those lads did to her. If we take her in now, they’ll be wanting to test her for all sorts of things, gather evidence. She’ll have to talk to the police, give statements, hand in her clothes. They won’t let her wash or sleep. Sure, she’s messed up, but we don’t know yet that anything bad happened. Do you really want to put her through all of that if all that happened is she’s had too much to drink and a bit of a wild night out with some guy she picked up? And she really doesn’t want to go, you saw that.”
Ellen gestured at Hannah. “This is not a bit of a wild night out, Matt. Look at her.”
Matt looked at Hannah, her head buried in her folded arms, her bruised and bloody legs drawn up and tucked under her.
“I don’t know what to say, Ellen,” he said, looking at her face, which was etched with worry and indecision. He had a sudden urge to go to her and put his arms around her, to tell her not to worry, to lean on him because he would look after her. “Call your doctor, there’ll be an on-call GP who will come to the house. At least then, when they’ve had a look at her, we’ll have a better idea of what to do.”
A cold wash of relief swept over Ellen as she looked back at her slumbering sister. Of course, if she called an ambulance now, she would be expected to go with Hannah. She tried to imagine accompanying her sister into the clammy night, sitting beside her as the ambulance sped to the hospital, listing from one side to the other, the siren ringing in her ears. Ellen felt every muscle in her body contract in panic. She’d been in the back of an ambulance before, and that time it had been she strapped to the gurney, frightened and alone as the paramedics talked over her head, and she had known that whatever happened, she had lost her baby at just twelve weeks. But that was years ago, Ellen told herself now. Nearly seven years since the ectopic pregnancy had ruptured her fallopian tube, since she had nearly bled to death and her chances of conceiving again had been slashed to nil when they discovered that her other tube was blocked. Seven years since she’d woken up alone in the hospital, waiting, terrified, for Nick to arrive back from a business trip to France, frightened of telling him that their dream of a big family had been ended, frightened about disappointing him again.
Ellen had been out of the house plenty of times since then, and she hadn’t been scared of unfamiliar people or places then, even if her excursions had gradually dwindled. And even now, even though Charlie was right and she had spent the best part of a year indoors, that didn’t mean she couldn’t go out if she wanted to. She could if she wanted to, if she had to. But when Ellen looked at her bruised and battered sister, she realized how glad she was that she didn’t have to test that theory. Not yet, anyway.
“I would feel happier if she would go to hospital,” the doctor told Ellen gravely as they stood in the hallway. It had taken over an hour for the emergency GP to arrive, and that was only after Ellen had begged the dispatch handler, who told her after she’d described Hannah’s injuries that she had to take Hannah to hospital. Eventually, Ellen had got the help she wanted but only after she had threatened legal action if anything happened to Hannah due to lack of medical attention.
“But I can’t make her.” The doctor sighed. “If she is competent and conscious, it’s up to her. She’s groggy, yes, but there is no sign of concussion or internal bleeding as far as I can tell. That doesn’t mean it’s not there, though.” She handed Ellen a prescription. “There are no broken bones, and these antiinflammatories will help with the bruising and pain, but I don’t want you to give her anything for at least another six hours, just in case there is anything I haven’t spotted. If she becomes unconscious, or anything changes for the worse, you will have no choice but to call the ambulance. Even if she doesn’t get worse, try to persuade her to go to hospital for more extensive checks once she’s sobered up. That’s my recommendation; there’s nothing I can do about it if she won’t follow it.”
Ellen nodded, acknowledging the disclaimer. She took the prescription and folded it first in half and then in quarters. She was aware that the exhausted and disheveled young woman was desperate to leave, but she had one more question she had to ask her.
“Doctor, do you think that… do you think she’s been raped?”
The doctor lowered her head. “I’m only able to make a judgment on where your sister allowed me to examine her, so I can’t comment. I would say that these injuries were inflicted on her by another person. These aren’t the kind of injuries sustained in a car crash or from falling over.”
“She wants to have a bath,” Ellen said. “But if she does, then there’ll be no evidence, will there?”
The doctor regarded Ellen with bloodshot brown eyes. “Look, my day job is police GP down at the local police station. I deal with this sort of thing all the time, and to be honest, less than fifty percent of rape victims report what’s happened to the police, and of those who do, less than ten percent result in a conviction. If there was any forensic evidence, it would only prove that your sister had sex. If the police felt they had enough for a case, and if they tracked down who might be responsible, which is a big if, she’d be asked about her drinking, her drug consumption. About spending all day in the pub with the people who might have attacked her, or might not have. Even now it’s still her word against his, if that’s what happened, and we don’t know that it did. I’m not even sure she knows.”
“So you’re saying I should let her have a bath and do nothing?” Ellen asked, incredulous. “That whoever did this to her just gets to carry on with life like nothing’s happened?”
“I’m saying that one way or another, your sister has had a hell of day, and she still might be seriously injured. Let her do whatever makes her feel better, and keep an eye on her for any signs of deterioration. If she starts vomiting or blacking out, has difficulty breathing or any belly pain—especially look out for signs her stomach is becoming rigid or swollen.”
“Thank you for coming,” Ellen said politely. Then she watched the GP hurry down the path, on her way to the next emergency. Bleakly, she shut the door on the outside world and leaned her back against it.
“Here.” Matt emerged from the living room and nodded at the piece of paper in Ellen’s hand. “There’s that pharmacy at the twenty-four-hour Sainsbury’s, isn’t there? I’ll go and get it.”
“Did you hear what she said? Do you think I shouldn’t report it?” Ellen asked, handing over the piece of paper.
“I don’t think it’s up to you, I think it’s up to Hannah—and for now all she wants is a bath,” Matt said. He picked up his jacket off the end of the banister. “I’ll be ten minutes.”
“Matt?” He paused, his hand on the latch. “Thank you, thank you for being here.”
“Not a problem,” Matt told her.
After he’d shut the door behind him, Ellen stood looking for several seconds at the spot where he had been standing, and then after a moment she went upstairs and ran Hannah a bath.
“Hannah, what has happened to you?” Ellen asked, suddenly upset, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “This is… this is just so… typical.” She was aware of the rising sun lightening the sky behind the kitchen blinds, casting a grayish, dreamlike light over everything, and she wished that she could wake up
from this nightmare and wake Hannah up to a simple sun-filled morning where nothing bad had happened.
It was now almost five. A little more alert since the doctor had looked at her, Hannah had insisted on bathing alone, while Ellen had sat outside the door, asking whispered questions every few minutes, afraid that her sister would pass out again and slip beneath the water. Ellen was thankful that Charlie had gotten into the habit of sleeping with his iPod plugged into his ears. If she was lucky, he wouldn’t wake up. She didn’t want to have to try to explain any of this to him.
Hannah had stayed in the bath for an hour, not wanting to come out even when Ellen had come in with fresh towels and a clean pair of Nick’s old cotton pajamas. At her sister’s demand, she had turned her back while Hannah dried herself, gasping periodically in pain. The mirror clogged with steam, Ellen had found herself looking into the dirty bathwater, now pinkish in hue. When Hannah was dried and dressed, Ellen had taken her hand and led her into her bedroom, pulling back the covers so her sister might lie down, and tucked her in.
“How are you feeling?” Ellen asked Hannah, who rolled onto her side with her back to her sister.
“I’m starting to sober up, worse luck,” Hannah said, as if she had nothing more than a hangover after a big night out. “And everything hurts.”
“Not much longer and you can take something for that,” Ellen said. “Hannah, do you think that after you’ve rested a bit more you should go to the hospital?”
“No,” Hannah said. “No. I’ll be okay. I just want to stay here. I want to stay here and I never want to leave.”
Ellen nodded. That, at least, she could understand.
“What? What’s typical?” Matt jerked awake. For the last few hours, since Hannah had drifted off to sleep again, he and Ellen had sat in the kitchen in silence, Matt’s head nodding occasionally onto his chest. Ellen had not slept, but instead climbed the stairs periodically to check on Hannah, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the expression on her battered face, watching for any signs that her condition might be worse than it looked, just like a new mother keeping vigil over her new baby. Just like a big sister, just like Ellen watching out for Hannah when she was very little.
The Home for Broken Hearts Page 24
