Hidden Depths

by Ally Rose

  HIDDEN DEPTHS

  ALLY ROSE

  Published by Accent Press Ltd – 2012

  ISBN 9781909335981

  Copyright © Ally Rose 2012

  The right of Ally Rose to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers: Accent Press Ltd, The Old School, Upper High St, Bedlinog, Mid-Glamorgan, CF46 6SA.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  This book is dedicated to my dear mother, my family and friends who surround me with love and laughter.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I would like to acknowledge the following people who helped me create this book:

  Debby and Lucy, my heartfelt thanks for your generosity of spirit and for taking a punt on a long shot.

  Karen, my enduring gratitude for listening endlessly to me and my plot and offering me your wisdom and encouragement.

  Katrin, for your invaluable insight to culture and historical events in Germany.

  Elisabeth and Lewis, for your patience and support.

  Knotty, for being the ‘candy man’ who found me an editor called Melanie Whitehouse.

  Mel, I’m extremely grateful for the lovely job you’ve achieved on my book with your insightful, editorial skill.

  An extra thank you to my publisher, Accent Press, for giving me a chance.

  And to serendipity – long may it continue.

  Thank you all so very much.

  Part One

  Chapter One: 31st December 2004

  THE PROSPECT OF WORKING on New Year’s Eve when others are free to go out and celebrate or simply welcome the incoming year at home isn’t the most appealing of options. At St Engel’s hospital in Berlin, the night shift on the coma ward on the last night of the year turned out to be quite a lively affair.

  Twelve years in a coma in intensive care, attached to a monitor, meant that Lotte Holler was the longest patient in residence. Home was a small room where a few family photos adorned a bedside dresser and fresh flowers gave a bit of colour to a white, clinical space overlooking a school playground that often echoed to the sound of energetic children. Except for the grey flecks that peppered her dark hair, Lotte, now aged 41, showed few signs of the laughter lines or wrinkles that would normally be found on someone her age.

  Lotte had arrived in a blaze of publicity, the victim of a violent attack on a bleak winter’s night who had been left to die of hypothermia on the banks of an icy lake. A passing dog walker had found her, barely alive. The crime remained unsolved and the culprit was apparently still at large due to lack of evidence. The victim, although she had survived, could not be questioned and the investigation was eventually filed as a cold case entitled the ‘Lady of the Lake’. Lotte remained in a coma, although MRI scans showed brain activity that the doctors attributed to the presence of her devoted younger sister, Julia, who was convinced Lotte could hear her but was unable to respond.

  Julia visited regularly and did everything she could to stimulate her sister’s mind. She read to her daily, chatted about trivia and recalled their shared childhood memories. She had always looked up to the elder sister who had played a protective role after their mother ran off with her lover and severed all contact. Their father had had a stroke soon after, forcing Lotte to leave school, find a job and look after the family financially, becoming a substitute mother for the young Julia. He never fully recovered from his stroke and died a few years later, leaving his daughters only a rented apartment and each another for comfort. It seemed for the next few years that life was looking up – but then Lotte was attacked.

  Julia was in the ward corridor getting a coffee from the dispenser when she recognised the man in a white coat passing by.

  ‘Dr Roth, could I have a word?’ she said.

  Dr Jonas Roth, a tall, middle-aged man with a bulbous nose and rugged face, stopped and turned around. He was often waylaid by the slender woman now standing in front of him. Although he was usually busy he always stopped to talk to Julia, reminding himself it wasn’t only the coma patients who suffered: their family members experienced a waking trauma. Also, he had an unspoken attraction to Julia and thought she was pretty and feminine with her intense, chocolate-brown eyes.

  ‘Frau Kessler… How can I help?’

  ‘You’ll never guess… I saw on the news today that a man in America has just woken up after 19 years in a coma, just like that, and he’s completely normal. Said he’d been listening to his wife all the time.’ Hope and excitement was evident in her voice.

  ‘Really?’ Dr Roth said, wondering if it was true.

  ‘My sister can hear me… she’ll wake up someday as if nothing has happened,’ insisted Julia.

  ‘Anything is possible,’ he replied, unconvincingly.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve had any news yet about any funding for an operation?’

  ‘Brain implants are still in the pioneering stages of surgery,’ the doctor began. He noticed Julia frowning with disappointment and softened his voice. ‘No, I haven’t any updates for you but I’m sure your presence here really does help your sister.’ He put his arm briefly on her shoulder. ‘I must go… Happy New Year.’

  ‘And to you, doctor,’ said Julia, and returned to her sister’s room.

  Dr Roth continued along the corridor to the ward office. He popped his head round the door. ‘I’m off now. See you next year,’ he said to his colleagues.

  Martin and Lena were the two nurses on duty on the ward.

  ‘All right for some,’ Martin joked.

  ‘Bye, Jonas,’ Lena replied warmly, watching him go. Recently single, the thought of going out to her local bar and bumping into her ex-boyfriend wasn’t appealing, which is why she’d volunteered for the New Year’s Eve shift. Martin on the other hand, liked to party. Sulking at first when his name appeared on the duty rota, he perked up when he discovered he’d be working with Lena.

  ‘Just going to turn Lotte Holler,’ Lena told him. ‘I won’t
be long.’

  Julia knew Lena and Martin – in fact she knew all the doctors and nurses on Lotte’s ward by name. Over the years she had grown to trust the staff and enjoyed her daily chats with them.

  Lena knocked and entered. ‘I need to turn Lotte, her last one for today. Are you staying to see the New Year in with Lotte?’ she asked Julia, who shook her head. ‘I’m taking my sons to midnight mass.’

  ‘Oh, that’s nice.’ Lena knew Julia lit a daily candle for her sister but didn’t want to be drawn into a theological discussion and diverted the conversation away, asking instead, ‘How old did you say your sons were?’

  ‘Eleven and nine,’ Julia replied, looking at her watch. ‘I’d better go, got to pick my boys up, their father doesn’t like driving in Berlin during the winter.’

  ‘Hasn’t he heard of the underground railway, the U-Bahn?’

  ‘My ex-husband doesn’t go out of his way to help me,’ Julia confided. ‘Thank you, Lena. Happy New Year... you’ll call me if there’s any change.’

  Lena smiled and nodded. ‘Happy New Year to you.’

  Julia repeated her good wishes to Martin as she passed him in the corridor. Martin went into Lotte’s room to find Lena.

  ‘You done?’ Martin asked.

  ‘Just about. You know, Julia’s been saying for 12 years, “Call me if there’s any change” and we never call her. She just refuses to give up hope.’

  Martin nodded in agreement. ‘Hopelessly devoted. They must have been close.’

  ‘Shame the police never caught the psycho who put Lotte in here,’ Lena commented.

  ‘It had to be a man,’ Martin said. ‘Unless he was a madman and it was some kind of random attack, he must have known her. The thing that interests me is the motive. What were the circumstances to provoke such an attack?’

  ‘You’ve been watching too many episodes of Tatort.’

  ‘I know… Hey, it’s time we saw in the New Year,’ Martin announced.

  Towards midnight with just minimal patient surveillance duties to carry out throughout the night, Martin and Lena felt free to relax. They put some tinsel around their starched white uniforms to add a little festive colour and switched on the television in their office.

  The news was, unsurprisingly, still dominated by the tragic scenes coming from Banda Aceh and the carnage and aftermath of the tsunami in Asia less than a week ago.

  ‘No! Please! I can’t think about all those kids lost in the tsunami, not tonight,’

  Martin groaned. ‘How about we listen to the radio?’

  Lena nodded and Martin switched on the stereo and fiddled with the channels. A broadcast of Bizet’s opera Carmen and the aria ‘Toreador’ came on.

  Martin clapped his hands. ‘I love this, it’s from Carmen. I was in kindergarten when I first heard it. I had hair then. The years, where did they all go?’

  ‘Let’s ask Lotte Holler,’ Lena said in a deadpan voice, fully aware that irony had its place on a coma ward.

  Martin turned up the volume, put his hands above his head and made mock bull charges at Lena, singing loudly and encouraging Lena to join in and dance with him out in the corridors. The song resonated along the corridors and throughout the ward.

  ‘Allons! En garde! Allons! Allons! Ah! Toreador, en garde! Toreador, Toreador! Et songe bien, oui songe bien en combattant, qu’un oeil noir te regarde, et que l’amour t’attend. Toreador, l’amour, l’amour t’attend .’

  Lotte Holler heard the song and opened her eyes.

  Chapter Two: Awakenings

  LOTTE HOLLER LOOKED AROUND her small room. Her vision was a bit blurry but it soon cleared enough for her to see white clinical walls, the bunch of fresh flowers by her bedside and a photo of herself and Julia. A rhythmic beat from a heart monitor was audible despite the volume of the music coming from the corridor. Looking down, tubes were attached from her chest to the monitor. What was going on, what was she doing here?

  Panic set in as she started to remember. The last time she heard this music was when a masked man had taken her at gunpoint to a lake outside Berlin, made her strip to her underwear in the cold night air and dance to this song. Where was this man now? Was he keeping her captive in this room and coming back any second?

  She tried to get out of bed but her muscles felt heavy and slow. Lotte began to shiver, recalling the icy night. She had the feeling she knew the man behind the balaclava mask, whose cold eyes had gazed down on her. Was her memory playing tricks, hadn’t she asked for his mercy and forgiveness? He knew her and he was taking revenge… The fog in her mind began to clear.

  The music grew louder. ‘Toreador, en garde! Toreador, Toreador!’

  Her attacker had ordered her to dance to this exact song, stripping her of her dignity, so she had danced. Biting her lip, she had tried not to cry as the dancing warmed the chill in her bones. The last thing she recalled before being hit on the head and falling unconscious to the freezing ground was worrying for the safety of the unborn baby she was carrying.

  The music transported Lotte back to that horrific night.

  ‘Toreador, l’amour, l’amour t’attend… ’

  ‘NO! Turn off that song!’ Lotte screamed. ‘Help! Julia, help me,’ she yelled, her voice surprisingly strong after such a long period without use.

  Martin and Lena stopped dancing in the corridor and raced to Lotte’s room.

  ‘She’s awake!’ Martin gasped.

  ‘Lotte! It’s OK, you’re safe, you’re in hospital,’ Lena told her. ‘Martin. Call the night doctor, Jonas, anyone… and turn off that bloody music.’

  Martin quickly disappeared down the corridor.

  ‘Turn it off!’ Lotte cried.

  Instinctively she began caressing her lower abdomen.

  ‘My baby… my baby,’ she cried.

  In another part of Berlin, Julia and her sons were just arriving home around midnight to a backdrop of fireworks ushering in the New Year. A plethora of colours lit up the night sky as her mobile vibrated in her pocket. It was Lena calling with the amazing news that Lotte had woken up and was asking for her. Julia burst into tears, throwing her arms into the air in the middle of the snow-covered street and sinking to her knees.

  ‘Mutti!’ Frank and Tomas helped their mother to her feet and she hugged them tightly.

  ‘It’s a miracle!’ she proclaimed. ‘Your Aunt Lotte has come out of her coma. We need to go to her right away.’

  ‘Mutti… Tante Lotte doesn’t know us and it might freak her out if she meets us now.’ Frank spoke with a wisdom and thoughtfulness beyond his 11 years. ‘We’ll go to papa’s, eh Tomas?’

  Julia smiled at Frank. She could discuss most things with her eldest son even though he was at an awkward age, his hormones showing signs of puberty and a few spots appearing on his forehead. In contrast, Tomas was a young nine-year-old and still her baby. Frank nudged his brother to respond to his question but Tomas just shrugged his shoulders and played with the snow.

  The miracle Julia had hoped for for so long had finally happened. She couldn’t wait to see her sister and wanted to drive like a tornado but she thought of her sons and stayed impatiently within the speed limit, detouring back to their father Jurgen’s flat, where less than an hour ago she’d collected the boys. Jurgen and Julia had divorced a few years ago after growing apart during 10 years of marriage. He had felt the burden of Lotte’s coma hanging over the family like the sword of Damocles but tonight he was truly glad for Julia, who looked visibly lighter than she had in a long time. Lotte’s subsequent recovery would be pivotal in lifting the weight of responsibility from her shoulders.

  At the hospital, an exuberant Jonas Roth had returned as soon as he got the news. Martin spoke excitedly, explaining the sequence of events that had precipitated Lotte’s arousal. ‘Lena’s with Lotte and she hasn’t stopped talking, it’s incredible!’ Martin informed him. ‘Her sister’s on her way.’

  ‘I’d better see the patient before Frau Kessler arrives and do a few tests befo
re unplugging her monitor. It seems Frau Kessler’s faith was justified!’ said Dr Roth.

  ‘Julia will be over the moon,’ Martin replied. The doctor patted Martin on the back. ‘Thanks to the opera Carmen, we all are.’

  It seemed an eternity waiting for her to arrive. Dr Roth was overjoyed when Julia appeared and rushed along the corridor to greet him. Smiling warmly he quite forgot himself and took her hands in his, then reprimanded himself for dropping his usual professional standards. Julia did not recoil. It was comforting to have his large hands envelop hers in a brief, shared and very poignant moment.

  ‘Frau Kessler, I know you’ve waited so long for this moment but please, just a few minutes longer.’

  Julia was so ecstatic she wanted to run along the corridor and take her sister in her arms but contained herself enough to comply. Dr Roth could see she was in a conflicting state of euphoria and anxiety, overwhelmed by it all. He was careful to speak in a soft and sensitive manner and be extra cautious in the way he delivered any information.

  ‘Just to tell you a few things,’ he began. ‘We’ll need to do more tests but for now, her heartbeat is normal and she’s breathing well and the good news is she’s no longer in a comatose state. Lotte’s awake and very obviously cognisant.’

  Julia was pleased but still anxious. ‘She won’t fall back into a coma, will she?’

  ‘I don’t have all the answers to such a phenomenon as has been witnessed here tonight. But I promise you we’ll do our best to see she gets the finest treatment possible regarding physiotherapy, diet, psychotherapy or whatever she needs to make a good recovery,’ Dr Roth told her.

  ‘What can I do to help?’ Julia asked.

  ‘You said she was listening to you all this time and you were probably right,’ he said. ‘May I suggest that at the moment you answer any of her inevitable questions on a ‘need to know’ basis? Don’t volunteer any information that might shock her, but don’t lie to her. You know, the police will have to be informed because her case will be re-opened, but I won’t let the police interview Lotte until she’s ready.’

  Julia frowned. ‘Must the police be told? I don’t want Lotte to be some freak in the news. They didn’t find her attacker back then and they won’t find him now.’