The Last First Time

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The Last First Time Page 9

by Andrea Bramhall


  “Hey.” Kate’s voice was quiet as she leant against the windowsill.

  “Hey. Have you been waiting long?” Gina stood next to her and leant back against the wall, casually letting their shoulders touch and absorbing the warmth of Kate’s body through the paper suit, hoping it would ease a little of the ache that was starting to settle in her bones. Everything hurt.

  “Not too long. How’s she doing?” She nodded to Stella.

  “She was really groggy when they were trying to get her into position. It’s weird seeing Stella like that.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Kate folded her arms over her chest. “I have gifts for you.” Kate grinned.

  Gina smiled widely in response. “Please tell me it’s tea and cake.”

  Kate’s smile faltered. “Sorry, no.”

  Gina chuckled and squeezed Kate’s arm. “I was joking.” She smiled as Kate let out a stuttered breath, seemingly relieved, but the look in her eyes… She was a million miles away. “You okay?”

  Kate swallowed and shook her head.

  “Tell me.”

  “I can’t. Not right now.”

  Gina watched her closely. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her nose looked a little sore, and her cheeks were flushed. Clearly, Kate had been crying, but Gina wasn’t going to make her talk if she didn’t want to. There were things in Kate’s job she couldn’t say, and there had been more than a few times she had let Gina keep her thoughts and feelings to herself when she needed to. The least Gina could do was allow her the same courtesy. Kate would talk when she was ready. If she could. “What have you got, then?”

  “Sandwiches, croissants, tea, and something warmer to wear.”

  Gina reached over and kissed her lips lightly. “You are a goddess.”

  Buffing her nails on her shirt, Kate said, “All in a day’s work.” She pointed to the chair. “I asked the nurse. She managed to scrounge up a pair of scrubs, and she’s lent you her hoody. The socks, I’m afraid, are from the lost property box, but she swears they’re clean, and I’ve got to admit they pass the sniff test—”

  “The sniff test?”

  Kate nodded.

  “The sniff test?”

  Kate folded her arms again. “Yes.” She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never conducted a sniff test.”

  Gina sniffed and tipped her nose in the air haughtily. “I never have.”

  “Right,” she drawled. “Anyway, the best she could find for shoes was a pair of the surgical clogs they use, but she said they’re really comfy, and they look like Crocs to me.”

  “Thank you.” She gathered up the bundle and slipped into the bathroom to change. The scrubs were surprisingly soft, and the hoody was thick and roomy, like a big, woolly hug.

  Kate smiled when she re-entered the room. “Better?”

  I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that smile. “Much.”

  “Then this will make it better still.” She pointed to the windowsill acting as a table, with the food and drinks she’d managed to find for them laid out. “I also called Will. He’s still fine with Sammy. He said he’s made up one of the rooms in the hostel for her to stay in if it gets too late. I spoke to her. She’s fine with it. More than fine, actually. Said it was like camping. I told her if that’s what she thinks camping’s like, then she’s never been and we really need to rectify that situation.”

  “You’re waffling,” Gina said as Kate took a breath.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. What’s wrong?”

  Kate shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just kind of made a decision, and I’m not sure if it’s the right one or not.”

  “If you’re not sure, doesn’t that usually mean it’s not the right one?”

  “Maybe. But it could just be that I have no way of knowing what the consequences of it will be. And I don’t like not knowing.”

  Gina smiled. “That’s true. You are a bit of a control freak.”

  Kate’s eyes opened wide, and her mouth dropped open a bit. “I am not!”

  Gina laughed. “I beg to differ.”

  “You can beg all you like. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re wrong.”

  “No, she isn’t,” Stella’s voice rasped the air as she spoke. Her eyes weren’t open, but she smiled at them from her bed. “Tell me you brought me coffee.”

  “Nope. You’re not allowed anything until we know what’s going on with your head.”

  “It’s still on my shoulders, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Kate said while Gina giggled.

  “Then it’s fine. I want coffee.”

  “I’m afraid not,” the doctor said from the open doorway. The young doctor looked even more harassed and exhausted than he had earlier, but his smile seemed genuine. “You have a concussion and a fractured skull. No coffee. You need to rest, not take a stimulant.”

  “But I can’t sleep without coffee,” Stella grumbled.

  “A fractured skull?” Kate asked.

  “I assure you, you can.” The doctor shone his penlight into each pupil, making Stella hiss in pain. It didn’t stop him carrying out his examination, making her grasp his fingers, push and pull on his hands, and so on. “And yes, to answer your question. There’s clearly a skull fracture. It’s a small, hairline fracture, but the swelling around it is increasing the pressure on the brain, which complicates that concussion a bit. We’ll be keeping you in and will reassess in the morning. Right now, we’re trying to find you a bed. A proper one. So hang tight, and we’ll get you settled as soon as we can.” He didn’t give any of them a chance to argue with him or ask questions. He simply closed the door behind him and was gone.

  “Chatty, isn’t he?” Kate murmured to the closed door.

  Stella waved a hand listlessly. “Fill me in,” she demanded, her eyes still closed. One could easily assume she was asleep, except that there was a tension to her body that hadn’t been there when she was unconscious.

  “It can wait, Stella.”

  “Piss off.” She opened her eyes and sat up a bit straighter. “I’m not dead. Now tell me what’s going on. I was there, remember?”

  “I remember,” Kate said. “You took my girlfriend to a bombing.”

  “Fuck off, it was Little Miss Fancy Knickers’ fault, not mine. She invited me.”

  “Hey! I think I’m offended!” Gina cried, smothering her laughter at Stella’s outburst.

  “You only think? Christ, I must be dying.” She put a hand to her head. “I can’t even offend civilians anymore.”

  “Fine, fine. Mock my concern all you like. But you know the boys are going to start bringing you johnnies for your desk, don’t you?” Kate grinned smugly. Finally, someone else for them to torment. It might get them to forget about the snorkel they kept leaving on Kate’s desk—a reminder that her car drowned when the harbour car park flooded. Or the crutch they kept propping over the back of her chair as a reminder of the time she got her leg trapped in the smouldering ruins of a boat sinking on the marshes. She didn’t want to put money on it… She wasn’t that daft, but a girl could hope.

  Gina frowned at her as Stella groaned. “Johnnies? Why?”

  “Because you two were in a sex shop when this happened. It’s that or blow-up dolls, probably. And since they’re a bunch of cheap bastards, condoms are cheaper…and easier to get hold of.” Kate shrugged. “Police humour.”

  “Right,” Gina said, drawing out the word to make it last at least five times as long as it needed to.

  Stella sniggered and settled back against the pillows. “So?”

  Kate sighed and slowly began to pick off the details she could. “Two bombers. We may have pictures of them—”

  “That was fast.”

  “The bomb didn’t destroy the camera server. It was in a different room, so we were able to get camera footage to Grimshaw. He’s confident he’ll ID them by morning.”

  Stella met Kate’s gaze. “Casualties?”

  Kate swa
llowed and glanced at Gina, clearly concerned about what she could and should say in front of her.

  “I’ll hear it on the news before long anyway, sweetheart. What you say won’t leave the room. You have my word.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the words she would have to say. “Seventeen dead and twenty-five injured as it stands.”

  Stella closed her eyes. “Critical injuries?”

  Kate nodded. “Yes.”

  “What do you mean?” Gina asked.

  “Critically injured victims who may still die yet as a result of their wounds,” Stella said softly, her voice croaky and thick. “Please tell me there aren’t any kids on the victim list.”

  Kate’s head dropped to her chest, and she covered her eyes with one hand. Her shoulders shook as she fought her emotions.

  The bedclothes rustled under Stella as she moved. “Fuck. Tell me.” She wrapped a shaky hand around Kate’s arm.

  “Two-year-old, in a pushchair. Out shopping with his mum. She’s in critical.”

  “Oh God!” Gina cried and wrapped her arms about her waist as Stella and Kate stared at each other. A plethora of details passed between them in that look, things Gina would never understand, and for that small mercy she would be eternally grateful. But she was a mother. And the pain that woman was suffering was the single worst pain she could possibly imagine.

  Nothing—absolutely nothing—would ever hurt more than her daughter’s pain. Worse…the mere thought of it sent her running out of the room and exiling her lunch.

  She hung over the bowl, arms braced on the cistern, tears running in rivers down her cheeks. It was too much. There was just too much horror to take in, too many vile details that she didn’t want to know and that she didn’t want to remember. She couldn’t. She knew that if she held on to this, it would paralyse her, entomb her, until she simply couldn’t function. Gina refused to carry the burden of someone else’s actions. Not again.

  Slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes, Gina flushed the toilet and glanced at herself in the mirror over the sink. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin pale. Her hair hung in damp strands as it continued to dry. She sucked in a deep breath, held it for a count of six, and blew out in a steady stream, taking each precious second to rebuild the defences around her heart, telling herself all the time that Sammy was just fine. She was okay, and nothing was going to happen to her precious little girl.

  By the time she returned, Stella and Kate were quiet, watching her. No doubt waiting for her to say something. “Sorry,” she murmured and stood next to Kate again.

  Kate slipped her arm about her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. “You okay?”

  Gina nodded. They all knew she was lying.

  “Well, if I’m stuck here, you can tell me all about your questionable decision,” Stella said.

  “Bollocks.”

  “Yes, that’s a questionable decision. Are you thinking of getting a pair or simply trying them out?”

  “I’m getting that doctor back.” Kate started for the door.

  “Why?” Stella frowned.

  “Because there’s clearly more damage to your brain than he said.”

  “Funny.” She laid her head back down on her pillow. “So, come on. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Kate sighed. “Well it’s about Pat—”

  “Who’s Pat?”

  Gina frowned and listened as Kate quickly gave her the details of Pat’s death and Stella’s promise.

  “You’ve read the letter?”

  Kate nodded.

  “Did you bag it first?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. Then nothing problematic so far.”

  “I think we should give the letter to George. It was meant for him, and it won’t change the investigation in any way if we do.” Kate folded her arms across her chest.

  Gina took in the stubborn set to her chin and wondered what would happen if Stella told her not to.

  “Must be some letter,” Stella said, a frown on her face. “I’d ask to read it, but since I’m currently seeing two of you, I don’t think that would help matters. Read it to me.”

  Kate flicked her gaze to Gina, and Stella just nodded.

  Kate picked up the letter and cleared her throat before she started to read. “My dearest, darling George: I have tried so many times to write this letter to you, to try and explain all that happened so many years ago, but I have never been able to convey all that I felt. Now I’m old enough to know that one can never truly expect to do that. Instead, all I can do is tell you the truth of what happened and hope you knew well enough the girl I was to be able to deduce the rest. The ways of the heart was not meant to be explained with words.”

  “She was so eloquent,” Gina whispered.

  “You asked me to run away with you, and I said no,” Kate continued to read, her voice a little shaky, hoarse, and deeper than normal as the emotion took its toll on her vocal chords. “I said I wouldn’t allow you to ruin your life by going AWOL for me. But I think you suspected, quite rightly, that there was much more to it than this. There were two things that you didn’t know, and I couldn’t find the strength to tell you back then. Both secrets I kept to save the lives of others—your life, dearest George, and that of our darling baby girl.”

  “Oh.” Gina clasped her hands together and squeezed them between her knees. She could picture young Pat, tears streaming down her face, when she told her lover goodbye.

  “It’s starting to sound like an episode of EastEnders,” Stella said.

  “Do you want me to finish reading this or not?”

  “Yes,” Stella and Gina said at the same time.

  “Right. Well, keep quiet and listen, then.” She stared at them both and flexed the page in her hand. “Where do I start to explain those secrets? The day you asked me to marry you, to run away with you, was the happiest and saddest of my life at that time. Happiest because of how much I loved you—and you must believe me, George, I did love you with all my heart. But saddest because I knew my father would not allow us to wed. You were an Englishman, a soldier, a Protestant. Everything my father hated and stood against. He would have skinned me alive had he known we were lovers. And I truly dread to think of what he’d have done to you.” Kate’s voice petered off, and she cleared her throat before she carried on. “I said yes at first because it was what my heart wanted, even while my head told me it would never happen. Hence the sadness I felt. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to see you again. I knew that my father would run you off, and when you started to talk of running away, of abandoning your post, I knew I couldn’t let you do it. I knew that my father would hunt us both down and kill you. If not both of us. We’d spend the rest of our lives running, not just from the army after you deserted, but from my family and the army my father was a part of. The Irish Republican Army.”

  “Bloody hell,” Stella said.

  “Shush.” Gina slapped her arm.

  “Paddy O’Shea was not just a member of the IRA, George, he was one of their leaders. He plotted, and carried out, a number of attacks that led to the deaths of your fellow soldiers. He killed, have no doubt about it. My fears for you were not the delusions of a paranoid fantasy, they were very, very real. So I changed my mind, I gave in to my fear, and I told you no.” Kate’s voice cracked again, and the page shook in her hands. “The shortest engagement in history. Wasn’t that what you said? Well, perhaps now you can understand why. I should never have gotten involved with you, George. I knew what my father was. I knew that before we met, and I kept it from you. For that, I’m sorry. I wish I’d never had to lie to you, but it was a difficult time and a difficult position to be in. As much as I hated what he did, he was still my father, and I loved him. Then I loved you. I was too young to know what to do with the feelings I had. And too immature to know how to deal with being on both sides of the argument.”

  “Oh, she must have been so scared,” Gina whispered.

 
“Shush,” Stella told her.

  “Bitch.”

  Kate cleared her throat.

  “Sorry. Please carry on,” Gina said.

  “But by the time I realised what a mess I’d made of everything, it was too late. I didn’t know it then, but I was already pregnant with your child. I know what you’re thinking now, George. Had I known, would I have made a different choice? Would I have run away with you and taken our chances? I know, because those are questions I’ve asked myself a million times. Sitting in my bed at Mary Magdalene’s Convent while our baby grew inside me, I thought of nothing else. When they came to take our baby away for adoption, I screamed and cried and wished I’d made any other choice than the one I did. But with time comes age, distance, and a little wisdom.”

  Tears dripped down Gina’s cheeks. She couldn’t imagine being without Sammy, and the thought of carrying her baby and then having it taken from her broke her heart.

  “It was a different time back then,” Stella said gently. Her face was still white as the sheet she was lay on, but her eyes looked a little clearer, brighter, more like the Stella Gina had come to know. “Women didn’t have the choices they do now. Especially young, unmarried, pregnant ones.”

  “I know.” Gina wiped the tears from her cheek. “It doesn’t make it any less awful, though.”

  “No.” Stella took hold of Gina’s hand. “But maybe it gets better. Please continue, reader.”

  “Ha bloody ha.” Kate lifted the page again. “I made the right choice, George. For all three of us. I made a choice that left you free to move on and live the life you deserved. Happy and healthy. I hope you’ve made the most of it, my darling.” Her voice was thick, full of emotion and pity. “I hope you’re married and surrounded by children and grandchildren now. I hope you had a long and fulfilling career. I hope you’re sitting by the fire with a cup of tea, telling your wife about the Irish lass you once knew. I hope you’ll be able to find our daughter. I hope you’ll want to sit with her and tell her all about us and what we meant to each other. I hope you have the life I could have never given you.”

  Gina swiped at her tears again and noticed Stella surreptitiously doing the same.

 

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