This baby is lucky, she thought. Sophia was amazing and her husband, although a little straight-laced, was not a bad guy. But then she remembered that she had been lucky as well. Her parents had been great. Until they had died and she’d been left in Miriam’s care.
27
Sandra’s foot felt light on the accelerator pedal. The car zoomed forward, zigzagging among the other vehicles. It felt liberating to drive away from the city, being able to go faster and faster. Pushing down on the window button, she listened to the whizzing sound as the glass rolled down. The wind in her hair felt good.
Staring straight ahead at the road in front of her, she allowed her mind to empty. It was rare that she felt as relaxed as she was right now. She wasn’t even sure why she was so serene. It was almost like having a plan was giving her a sense of purpose.
The car navigation system told her to take the next exit off the motorway and she focused on the road ahead of her, changing lanes and keeping her eyes out for signs. Once off the motorway she noticed the greenery around her, the smell of trees and flowers. The roads were getting narrower, fewer cars around. She saw a couple walking in the fields and slowed the car, looking at them. A large dog, probably a golden retriever, came bounding up to them and the woman squatted down and scratched the dog’s neck. He jumped up and down, and from a distance Sandra could hear her throaty laugh, the sound of relaxed happiness.
Another car was coming from the opposite direction and she turned the steering wheel slightly to hug the side of the road, making sure there was enough space for both of them. Barely, but they made it. The other driver smiled at Sandra and she nodded back.
Why didn’t she come to the countryside more often? She should bring the children every now and then, get them away from the city. Everyone could do with some fresh air.
The trees were getting taller and more dense. As she went round the bend she saw it looming in front of her. A big building, painted a stark white, with a red brick roof. It had looked imposing in the photo printed on the newspaper, alongside an article about Miriam. But she hadn’t imagined it being so large. Her heart started beating faster and faster and her foot lightened up on the pedal, making the car slow down.
She could stop, turn back. This was a bad idea. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ she told herself. This was probably a waste of time anyway. It was not as if the nurses were going to tell her how Miriam was really doing. She wasn’t even a family member.
And what if the police found out that she’d gone to see her? It might cement any suspicions they had. Give them more reason to think that they had done something wrong and were trying to cover their tracks. First John buying the house and now she was going to visit Miriam. How could she have been so stupid not to realise that this could backfire spectacularly and put her in the spotlight?
‘I can’t go,’ she said aloud. ‘I should just turn back.’ There were a million things for her to do at home before going to get Julia from nursery.
But something kept her moving forward. She had come all this way. She couldn’t turn back now. Despite the risks, she still had this burning desire to find out more, to see for herself how Miriam was really doing. Gritting her teeth, she kept going, slowing down as she reached the large gates. The security guard stopped her and she felt frazzled, unsure what to say. Somehow she hadn’t expected this. She chided herself internally for her half-baked plan.
‘Are you here to visit a patient?’ the man asked, narrowing his eyes as he looked at her.
‘Uhm, yes,’ she responded. Her voice sounded raspy and she worried that he would notice how nervous she was, but he didn’t seem to care.
‘Their name?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Who are you visiting?’ he asked. He was holding a pen in one hand and a clipboard in another, his hand poised to start writing.
‘Miriam Lancing,’ she blurted out before she had time to change her mind.
He went over the clipboard and nodded. ‘And your name?’
When she didn’t respond, he looked up and cocked his head to one side.
‘Sandra Sullivan,’ she finally said.
He jotted something down and opened the gate. ‘You can park on the side of the building. But I’d stay away from the trees if I were you. Those damn pigeons cover everything in shit.’
And just like that she was inside the grounds. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she manoeuvred the car to the parking area, sliding into an empty space.
For a few moments she sat there, unable to move, to get out of the car. Taking deep breaths. In through her nose, out through her mouth. Centring herself. Trying to muster the courage to do what she had come here for.
Finally, she opened the door and swung her legs out of the car, standing up and straightening her sweater. Her heels dug into the moist ground and she looked down at the muddy terrain, hoping that the bottoms of her jeans wouldn’t get dirty. Taking small steps to avoid splashing through the mud, she walked towards the building, going slowly up the steps.
An older lady was sitting behind the reception. She smiled widely as soon as Sandra walked in. ‘Hello, hello, how are you today?’ Her voice was so high-pitched it hurt Sandra’s ears. But she forced herself to smile back.
‘Good morning, good, thank you,’ she said. ‘How about you?’
‘Great. Such a beautiful day. Can barely believe it’s supposed to rain later.’ She nodded towards the doorway where light was streaming in through the glass panes. ‘Did you come from far?’
‘No, I just drove in from London.’
‘Oh, a Londoner.’ She looked her up and down but not in an unkind way. Still, Sandra shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze. ‘So, who are you here to see?’
Walking closer to the desk, she told her Miriam’s name.
‘Oh, are you one of her kids?’
‘No!’ She spat out the word as if the thought disgusted her.
The woman’s eyes flew wide open. ‘Sorry.’ She paused. ‘I didn’t mean her daughter. I meant one of the children she used to look after. I didn’t mean to offend.’
‘Oh, no worries.’ Sandra’s face burned red with embarrassment at her minor outburst. She needed to control herself better, especially here. ‘And yes, I lived with her for a few years. It was a long time ago.’
The woman nodded and continued looking at Sandra. ‘Poor woman,’ she finally said. ‘What a horrible accident!’ She paused for a moment, then asked: ‘Were you there that day?’
Sandra’s chin trembled and she bit her lip. ‘Yes.’ She didn’t give any further details, scared of what she might say and how it could be interpreted.
But the woman didn’t seem to take the message. ‘Oh, poor child. Were you hurt?’
The phone rang, saving her from having to answer. The woman picked it up and listened to the other person speak. ‘Yeah, OK, let me put you on hold for one second.’ She put the phone down and looked back at Sandra, smiling, as if she was still waiting for an answer to her question.
‘Can I go see Miriam?’ she asked instead, giving her a brief smile, trying to mask her discomfort.
‘Yes, of course, you just need to sign here first.’ She handed her a thick register and Sandra jotted down her name, barely looking at her indecipherable writing. ‘Room 603,’ the receptionist said. ‘The lift is right around the corner.’
As Sandra was walking away, the woman called after her. ‘I’m glad Miriam’s getting some visitors. Two in a week. That’s so nice.’
The smile plastered to her face, Sandra continued walking, wondering who else had come to see Miriam, whether it was one of the others. Nobody had said anything yesterday. Sandra mentally kicked herself for not having asked the receptionist, pushed her for some more details. Someone as chatty as her might have given her the information she was looking for. Perhaps she’d ask on her way out. She’d just have to think how to word her questions to avoid seeming too eager.
The lift took forever to arrive. She tapp
ed her feet nervously to the same rhythm her heart was beating. With every passing second this was starting to seem more and more like a bad idea. But she’d come all this way; she had to see her.
Finally, the lift pinged open and she stepped inside, pressing the button for the sixth floor, willing her heart to stop beating so fast. Her breath was coming in short gasps and she felt claustrophobic in the small enclosure. Closing her eyes tightly, she focused on her breathing, making sure that enough air made its way into her lungs.
The lift doors opened and she found herself in a long wide corridor, the walls bright white, the tiles placed in a diamond pattern. The nurses’ station was at the end and she forced herself to walk towards it. Her legs felt like jelly but she kept going.
Two nurses were chatting animatedly in low voices. Sandra felt like an intruder, encroaching on their personal time, and for a few moments she stood a few feet away from the desk. Then, one turned towards her and smiled. ‘Hi, you must be here for Miriam. They called from downstairs to let us know you’re on the way.’
‘Oh.’ News travels fast, Sandra thought. ‘Yes. Room 603, right?’
‘Yes.’ The nurse was looking at her curiously and Sandra’s hand flew to her cheek, hiding the barely visible scars. ‘I checked on her a few minutes ago and she was asleep. To be honest, she sleeps a lot these days. But you can sit with her for a little while if you want.’
This was her chance to turn back. She could say that she’d come back another day, when Miriam was awake. She could leave this place and drive away, never to return.
‘Yes, I’d like that.’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Before she even knew what she was about to say.
The nurse stood up and walked from behind the desk. ‘This way,’ she said, starting to walk down the corridor. Sandra took a step and then another. Ready or not, she was on her way to see Miriam.
28
Bea’s phone buzzed and moved on the desk in front of her, the vibration making it turn in a circle. She didn’t recognise the number. For a moment she pondered responding, but then remembered the work that she still had to finish and looked away. Whoever it was could leave a message.
She heard her name being called and swivelled her chair around. Ernest had a few questions about a client.
‘Are you going to get that?’ he interrupted her after a while, motioning towards the desk behind her. Bea turned and saw her phone ringing again.
‘Nah, they’ll leave a message. Or send an email.’
They finished talking and Bea headed to the kitchen to make coffee. She needed the break, the few moments to stretch her legs.
She had only been back at her desk for a couple of seconds when her phone rang again. The same unknown number. Bea rolled her eyes and picked up, psyching herself to get the caller off the phone quickly so she could continue with her work.
‘Bea, why aren’t you answering the phone?’ Gemma’s voice was high-pitched, panicked.
‘I…’ Bea started, her head suddenly clear. She sat upright in her chair, barely noticing the sharp pain in her leg at the sudden movement. ‘What happened?’
‘It’s Sophia.’ Gemma started crying, not finishing her sentence.
‘What happened?’
‘Sophia and Sean were driving across Westminster Bridge to go to a doctor’s appointment and they had a car accident.’ Gemma stopped and Bea could hear her ragged breathing, could imagine her holding her chest, as she always did when she was scared. She could see Gemma’s eyes wide open. Her cheeks pale under the expertly applied make-up.
‘Is it bad?’
‘Yes, very. Sophia’s airbag didn’t deploy properly, so she’s badly injured. Sean was at least conscious but they’re still running tests.’ Gemma’s soft crying became sobs and Bea could imagine her leaning forward, trying to compose herself.
‘What about the baby?’
Gemma didn’t respond and Bea could hear her continuing to cry softly. ‘They don’t know,’ she finally said. ‘They’re still trying to stabilise Sophia, said they won’t be able to properly check the baby until she’s out of danger.’
‘Where is she? You said they were in London?’
‘Yes, St Thomas’. Martin and I just got here but they won’t let us see her.’
‘I’m on my way. How can I reach you?’
Gemma took a deep breath. ‘We forgot our phones in the rush. I’m calling from the nurses’ station at the A & E. We’re still in the waiting room but if we move, I’ll try to call again.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll find you.’ She barged into Laurence’s office before she had even hung up. ‘Sophia’s been in a car accident. I’m going to the hospital.’ Without waiting for him to respond, she turned and ran to the door.
Outside, she looked around, searching for a taxi. Finally, she spotted one and stretched her arm as far as she could, waving frantically to hail it.
‘St Thomas’ Hospital, please,’ she told the driver before she had even sat down. ‘A & E.’
Sitting back in the taxi, Bea tried to get her mind around what had just happened. This felt like a bad dream. A road accident had robbed her of her parents and then her brother, trashed her dreams, and now it was threatening Sophia’s life. She couldn’t believe it. Tears started stinging her eyes and she blinked them away, not wanting to appear weak, especially in front of Gemma. As the taxi sped across Westminster Bridge, she did what she hadn’t done in a very long time. She prayed.
29
Sandra’s heels clicked against the tile. She focused on the rhythmic sound, trying to relax the escalating panic in her mind. A warning voice in her head kept telling her to turn back, to come up with an excuse.
What if Miriam woke up? What if she recognised her? What if she started screaming? Told everyone that she and the others had tried to kill her? What would she do then?
There was so much Sandra wanted to tell Miriam. Sometimes she’d lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the lights coming in from the window forming shadows on the walls, and think about Miriam. For years she’d wanted to confront her, try to explain to her how her cruel actions had affected her life. Remind her of the things that she could not recall. Make sure that she knew that despite her years of abuse Sandra had managed to grow up into a responsible adult, someone with a life, a family, a safe home. Miriam’s constant intimidation, bullying, words of discouragement didn’t leave their mark. She was fine; it was Miriam who wasn’t.
But now that she was about to come face to face with her tormentor, a lump formed in her throat and she wasn’t sure she could find the words. It was no longer important. There were other things that took precedence. She needed to find out what Miriam remembered, even though she didn’t know what questions to ask, how to get the information she needed without giving anything away. Panic started to build up and Sandra’s chest felt tight, her whole body increasingly tense.
It was too late to change her mind. The nurse stopped in front of a closed door and Sandra saw the numbers on the side. 603. They had arrived. This was Miriam’s room.
‘Here you go.’ The nurse interrupted Sandra’s thoughts, her cheerful tone drilling into her head. Her heart started beating faster and faster, heat rose to her face. She couldn’t do this. She didn’t have the courage to go in. It had been years and years since she’d seen her, not since that day at the hospital when she had gone to look for her room. She’d looked so fragile, wires coming out from her chest, a mask covering her face. But the cruel look had remained in her eyes.
Forcing a smile, Sandra looked at the nurse and took a tentative step towards the door. Then she stopped, turned her body away. ‘Are you sure it’s OK? That she doesn’t mind visitors’
Smiling gently, the nurse shook her head. ‘No, no, it will do her good. All of our residents enjoy receiving visitors. Miriam doesn’t get many. Nobody has come to visit for many years. We always wondered why none of her children ever came but figured you were too traumatised by the a
ccident. And perhaps you’d gone to live elsewhere. But I’m glad to see you’re back.’
Swallowing hard, Sandra mustered the courage to speak. ‘The lady downstairs said that someone came to see her.’ She glanced to her side and looked at the nurse. ‘She said I was the second visitor this week.’
The nurse narrowed her eyes. ‘Yes, a lady came over earlier this week. I wasn’t here though, it was what the other nurse told me.’
It had to be Bea or Helen. They’d probably had the same thought as her, trying to find as much information as they could. But why hadn’t they said anything yesterday? Perhaps the news was bad and whoever had come was concocting a plan to save herself.
Clearing her throat, Sandra looked back at the nurse. Her brain whirred and she tried to think of a way to verbalise the questions she wanted to ask, but she seemed to have lost her ability to form a coherent sentence.
The scrutiny made her cringe. ‘Are you nervous?’ the nurse asked, looking at Sandra through slitted eyes, increasing her anxiety. Then she smiled, the kindness spreading across her face. ‘Go ahead.’
The nurse opened the door and put her hand on Sandra’s back, gently pushing her inside. There was no more stalling. She felt her legs moving forward, taking the two steps that separated her from the open door. Her face was averted, her eyes focused on the nurse. She was not ready to see her, to face her tormentor.
Gradually, as if in slow motion, she started turning her head. She was aware of every single millimetre, until she was looking inside the room.
It was bright and she wondered how anyone could sleep with all this light streaming in through the thin curtains. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow. There were pictures of colourful flowers in white frames. Some knick-knacks on the chest of drawers. There was a small figurine of a puppy, a Labrador if she could see properly. And a blue glass vase was full of flowers in different shades of pink.
We All Fall Down Page 16
