by AB Morgan
It was at this moment that a reflection could be seen in a long mirror on the back of the hotel bedroom door. A figure could be seen holding a video camera. Not a mobile phone. A digital video camera. The person behind the camera turned slowly to their right, following Konrad as he lay with his head dangling backwards, lying across the bed. Lorna stood over him, this time with a knife held in her right hand. She lowered herself onto his face as he explored her with his tongue and held onto her buttocks moving her back and forth. They both stopped again. Konrad sat up sweating and panting, talking to Lorna who crawled across the bed to face him. She struck first, slapping Konrad on his face and soundlessly shouting at him, he retaliated by holding her shoulders before punching her with a solid right hook to her jaw. He repeated this twice, with such force that she fell sideways on the bed, each time dragging herself up to fondle him and kiss him – the knife still gripped in her hand. Then sliding across to stand beside the right-hand side of the bed, Lorna beckoned to Konrad and he crawled towards her…
Propped up in his hospital bed, Konrad lay in a pool of sweat from the cold terror that had gripped him as he watched the TV. Remaining transfixed on the screen in front of him, he didn’t speak or utter a sound until he forced himself to roll and heave over the side of his hospital bed as an unstoppable wave of nausea overtook him. DS Jenkins rushed to alert the allocated nursing staff who crashed through the door, demanding that Konrad’s visitors leave immediately.
Konrad could hear what was going on as if the voices around him were in the distance. His mind detached itself from the trauma of what he had seen, and took him away to another place.
29
A warm wet cloth was being rubbed gently across his chest and under his armpits, accompanied by whispered chatter between two female voices. Surgical-gloved hands were lifting his arm, as a towel dried his skin before slowly lowering it back to his side.
‘His poor daughter is beside herself.’
‘I know, but at least his other friends are here again today. She’d be in a real state without them. Why do you think his son doesn’t come?’
‘Don’t know…’
Sheila lifted Konrad’s left arm to wash its length, right to his fingertips. Another younger nurse, a healthcare assistant, had washed the other. They passed the towel between them.
‘The psychiatrist is due to pop back in today. God knows what he thinks bloody sedatives will do, what this man needs is a bucket load of psychology and his girlfriend back. Did you overhear any more from the police, Leah?’
‘Only that they’re looking for the son’s girlfriend. They think someone else is involved. Even I worked that out. Somebody had to be filming didn’t they, unless they left a camera running themselves? Who would do that, and then send a copy to the papers with a pathetic request for money in return for destroying all copies? Poor man.’ Leah looked down at Konrad’s face and halted drying his hand. ‘Mr Neale? Can you hear me? Sheila, his eyelid moved. Look.’
In a dreamlike state, he had listened to the two ladies and felt their hands on him, but there was a weight of fatigue as lethargy, like a cloak, held him down and prevented him from waking. He drifted away again.
‘Come on, you stupid bastard. Wake up! We’re late for the pub.’
Barney. Piss off I’m knackered.
‘Kon, did you hear me, you silly bastard? Wake up.’ Rough hands shook his shoulders, until he opened his eye.
My eyelid’s stuck.
He focussed on the person standing at the end of the bed. He didn’t recognise the man and momentarily had no idea where he was or what day of the week he was on, until Barney spoke again. ‘About time. Fancy sleeping for three days, you lazy sod.’
Wondering why his friend would be saying this while wiping tears from his eyes, Konrad tried to sit up. He managed to raise his head slightly, before abandoning the whole idea. It was exhausting.
‘Mr Neale, do you know where you are?’ asked an unfamiliar voice, belonging to the unknown man at the end of the bed.
‘No. Not really.’ Konrad felt dopey. Doped up. Sedated. He wanted desperately to return to the cosy comfort of his dreamless sleep so he closed his eye and listened to others talking about him.
‘Look, mate, can you ease up on the drugs? He’ll never wake up if you keep him in that state.’ Barney sounded irritated.
‘Yes, we’ve lowered the dose, which seems to be working, so we’ll drop it down more and see how he gets on.’
‘Thanks, Doctor. He has to face reality again sometime.’
‘He does, yes, but we need to be careful about how much he can manage. I have a psychologist waiting to see him when he’s able to tolerate it. Paying private certainly has its advantages. The local NHS waiting list is a good six months if not longer. He needs support much sooner than that.’
The voices faded again for a while before other familiar voices replaced them, which for Konrad, felt like it had occurred in the same time frame.
‘Fucking Freddie and that girl. What do they think they’re playing at? Where exactly did you say you heard about that?’
Eliza.
‘From the police, well, through the bat-like ears of Leah the assistant nurse. She picks up on some juicy snippets because her mother works in the police headquarters building in Bangor. She’s a cleaner would you believe. Leah finds out the odd detail from her mother, or from us, and then chats to the officer outside here as if she knows a lot more and the one that’s usually on duty seems a bit dim. He confirms or denies what she says and even adds a bit more information. Amazing.’
Annette. Where’s Barney?
‘I can’t believe Freddie declined to give the police details about what he and Chloe discussed in the car park before she left on Saturday night. Also, why do the police believe it was Freddie, not Dad, who called reception asking them to get in touch with Lorna urgently? Why didn’t the people on reception question why Dad didn’t use his mobile phone, or call from his room by dialling for an outside line, like people usually do?’
‘Who knows? But Freddie will get himself in hot water if he doesn’t cooperate. He’s still seeing her, that Chloe girl.’
‘How do we know that?’
‘Because your dad asked Barney to keep an eye on things, if you pardon the pun, so Barney has been phoning Freddie under the pretence of checking how he and Delia are coping with the adverse publicity. Freddie loves to boast about Chloe, and he tells Barney each and every revolting detail. Chloe visits him at your mother’s, in secret. They use the summerhouse. Can’t be seen, can’t be heard, and your mother never goes in there. Only the cleaner sees the inside of the garden love palace, according to Barney.’
‘Christ. We’d better tell the police. They’re still trying to get hold of her for questioning. Little cow. What’s her game?’
There were other noises, a door being pushed open, footsteps and a smell of coffee.
‘’Ere we go girls. This’ll keep us going for an hour or so. Has the daft ha’porth woken up yet? Shall I give him another shake? It worked last time.’
Barney. There you are. Where’s my coffee?
Konrad opened his one good eye and saw the cheering sight of Annette, Barney and Eliza standing together looking out of the window in his hospital room.
‘I wonder what he’s been dreaming about all this time,’ mused Eliza as she gazed at the uninspiring car park beyond the hospital.
‘Blue eyes,’ came the mumbled reply from the bed.
‘Dad!’ Eliza rushed to her father’s side and lay her head on his chest as she hugged him as tightly as she dared. He stroked her head.
‘It can’t be Chloe; she has brown eyes,’ Konrad announced.
The sighs of relief from his friends indicated to Konrad that he had been the source of major consternation. ‘I’m not dead then?’
Annette sat down with a solid plonk and reached for sustenance in the form of an enormous Chelsea bun, which filled the lower half of her face and deposited sugary c
innamon on to the tip of her nose. Without thinking she passed a second one to Barney. ‘Thank God. We’d been so worried I lost my appetite.’
Good grief, it must have been serious.
Sheila came in through the doors having been alerted by Eliza pressing the call bell. ‘Welcome back again, Mr Neale. I have missed you.’
‘Hello, Sheila. I feel like shit.’
‘That’ll be the sedation. It’s being tapered off so you’ll gradually feel more with it. Try to relax if you can.’
‘I can’t. I don’t even know what day I’m on. I don’t know what happened.’
‘Let’s check you over first and get the doctor to have a look at you. We’ll explain as we go along.’
Sheila looked at Konrad’s three visitors who immediately understood she needed to spend some time with him, taking him through his circumstances step by step. They left nurse and patient alone.
Eliza was the first to be allowed back in. ‘The police want to speak to you again when you’re up to it. What did you mean about Chloe and her brown eyes?’
‘I must have been rambling. I’ve no idea,’ Konrad said, careful not to allow Eliza to find out about Tessa Carlton. He had to protect her for as long as he could. ‘I’m more alert now, so I’ll be fine to see the police tomorrow maybe. Why don’t you go and get some rest, you look shattered, and all I’ve done is sleep, apparently. They said it was an adjustment reaction to finding out about my eye and what happened to Lorna.’
‘Okay, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ve told the bosses that I’m not working this weekend. They’re fine about it. Can Barney and Annette come in to see you? They want to give you a wee bit of good news.’
‘I was right. They’re made for each other.’
‘Oh, that. Yes, you’re quite right. It’s lovely that they seem to have found each other. This is other news, about Lorna.’
His whole body reeled at the sound of her name and the dreadful emptiness of her absence caved in on him once more.
‘Please, I need to know.’
Eliza’s face crumpled as she cried in sympathy with her father’s heartache.
Annette and Barney sat together to tell what little news they had.
‘I’ve managed to get a visitor’s permit for Tuesday next week, but I’ve also had a call from her solicitor with an update on how she’s coping.’
Konrad held his breath.
‘As I understand it, Lorna was overwhelmed to hear that you were desperate to see her and that you don’t despise her. Her solicitor has also been made aware of the Tessa Carlton suspicions and the case is going to be a test for the legal minds of the judiciary, from what I can gather. The other women in the prison are wary of Lorna so she’s managed to keep to herself. She sends you a message, which I wrote down. “We will see the puffins together.” I hope that means something to you, because frankly it sounds like a line from a spy film to me.’
There was silence from Konrad. He closed his eye.
‘Shit. We’ve blown it big time. He’s gone again.’
‘No I haven’t. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much those words mean. I can do this now. Me and Lorna, we can do this now.’
Barney and Annette made to leave, giving Konrad time to himself. ‘Hang on, I need to speak to Barney for a moment. Would you mind?’
Barney sat with his friend, waiting for an inquisition. Sure enough Konrad had not lost his touch when it came to wheedling information out of a reticent interviewee. ‘Annette seems remarkably comfortable in your company, Barney, my old pal. I take it you are sharing a room at the hotel?’
‘Yes, matey, your advice was correct and I have surpassed her expectations apparently. We have a lot in common.’
‘And? And what’s the deal with the hanky-panky?’
‘I’m not Freddie, I’m a gentleman and they don’t tell.’
So, it is serious then…
‘Well said, I consider myself duly reprimanded. Now tell me about Freddie and that bloody Chloe.’ Konrad’s tone of voice was commanding and Barney knew better than to fudge an answer. He confirmed what Konrad had heard in his semiconscious state and Konrad was furious with his son.
‘Look, Kon, I’ve tried to reason with the lad, but he only listens to her. Even Delia is taken in by her. They borrowed The Camp Commandant’s Range Rover – to go away for the night on Wednesday and haven’t been seen since.’
‘What day are we on again?’
‘Friday. Friday evening, same week, same shit, different day.’
‘Sorry, Barney, I think I left the planet for a while. I can’t remember quite a lot. The last thing I recall is meeting Rupert the bear, my barrister, and then waiting to watch the film of what happened to me and Lorna, but then I come round and it’s three days later. Head-fuck time.’
‘Maybe it’s best you don’t remember. The doctor said it was such a shock your mind has wiped it from your memory. But he did say it could be temporary so we have to be careful not to make you try to remember it. That’s why the TV has been replaced by a lovely brand-new iPod, which Eliza has filled with a selection of audio books, pod casts and music for your delight. No news and current affairs for you pal.’
After Barney left for a long trip down the motorway towards home, Konrad decided to give in to the request that he should relax, and with earphones on, drifted into a pleasant doze.
30
The room was swaying as Konrad sat on the edge of the bed in a pair of striped pyjamas, taking instruction from Sheila and Leah who were at either hand in case he wobbled.
‘Take a moment or two, you’ve been lying down for so long your brain needs time to adjust to the upright position for Homo sapiens and your legs haven’t held you up for several days.’
‘I’m dying to see what my en-suite looks like and have pee in my own toilet, and a poo. Won’t that be a better prospect than a bedpan or being hoisted onto a sodding commode? You do realise this short walk is the most adventurous thing I’ve done in a whole week.’ He prepared himself to stand. The last time he stood up properly and walked, he had been with Lorna.
‘You move around safely enough today and we’ll have the catheter removed tomorrow. For now, please just do as we ask and head for the chair. Mr Wells is on his way to take a peek at how you’re healing.’
‘Can I have the bloody bandage off?’
‘Don’t ask us. Ask him.’
‘Can I have a leather eye patch? I reckon I’ll look piratical and swashbuckling with one of them.’
‘I’ll swash your buckle if you don’t concentrate,’ Sheila scolded.
‘Let’s crack on then, I’ve got a busy day ahead.’ Konrad enjoyed the banter between himself and the nursing staff; it kept him sane in an otherwise frustrating world. DCI Anwell was due to see him that day and Konrad wanted to know what progress had been made. ‘Can I wear my own clothes? I’m sick of being a patient.’
Shortly after making an undignified landing into a chair, there was a knock at the door and Mr Wells entered with a set of patient notes in his hands. His bedside manner had been perfected over the years and Konrad was paying strict attention to the details that he outlined. The experienced surgeon had gauged Konrad’s recovery well, in terms of acceptance and physical healing. ‘Monocular vision has its challenges.’
‘You’re not kidding. I’ve had to relearn how to eat without injuring myself, and just now I misjudged the distance to a chair. Please tell me my brain will adjust.’
Mr Wells allowed himself a brief grin before confirming, ‘Your brain will adjust, Mr Neale, given time.’ Having removed the pressure bandage, Mr Wells was satisfied that the wounds were clean. ‘Do you want to see? I can ask the nurse to fetch a small hand mirror.’
Doubt gnawed at Konrad. ‘Is Eliza here yet? I think she should be with me.’ He wasn’t confident that he could tolerate his own reaction if he was massively disfigured and although he had an idea in his mind of how he thought he might look, the reality could b
e far wide of that.
‘Yes, I think she’s here already. She has presents and cards for you from fans and well-wishers. You’re a popular man.’
I used to be. I thought no one would be sending anything since the press did their worst.
‘Shall I invite her in and ask Sheila to find a mirror? We can sit together and I’ll answer any of your questions as they arise.’
The man staring back at Konrad was a pale reflection of himself. A pasty bruised face with one perfect eye looked back at him. A deep reddish blue scar ran from his hairline above the middle of his left eyebrow in a diagonal line towards his right earlobe. Another more jagged line etched into his right brow and down to his cheek below. In the hollow, where his other eye used to live, was a swollen eyelid, bruised and lumpy in places where stitches held it shut.
I know it’s me. But it’s not me.
‘Is it sore?’ asked Eliza looking intently at her father’s healing wounds.
Konrad was taken aback at her choice of question. He found it hard to comprehend that she was interested in pain. Not in how he looked, but in how he felt. ‘Not too bad at all. It looks a bit of a mess.’
‘That will improve,’ Mr Wells assured. ‘Please don’t be tempted to keep touching it; you wouldn’t want an infection. We’ll arrange for you to see our specialist who’ll make you a prosthetic from an acrylic polymer and match the colour exactly to your other eye, unless you want the David Bowie look. The prosthetic eyes themselves can be remarkably life-like, but the one area for concern is the scarring on your eyelid. That may be harder to resolve and difficult to make less obvious.’
‘How does it stay in place?’ Eliza asked.
‘The prosthetic? In simple terms, we implanted a marble-shaped insert into the orbit, the socket. This was done at the time we removed the original eyeball. That implant has a small peg onto which the prosthetic eye will fit. We hope that the eye muscles will remain attached to the implant to give some movement and therefore the overall result will be more realistic.’ Much to Konrad’s relief, the doctor kept his information factual and straightforward.
