“I saw the death cert.”
She said nothing.
“Emma, I’m sorry – I don’t want to cause you any more pain but I’m at my wits’ end. I can’t take it any more.” He took a deep breath. “I think it’s for the best if I moved out for a while. Maybe just give you some space?”
Her expression remained impassive, giving no sign of how she was feeling or even if she was listening to him.
“Right. Well, I’ll be in Rob’s if you need me.”
He lifted the holdall over his shoulder and closed the door behind him.
* * *
Emma listened to Adam’s footsteps as they made their way down the stairs, across the floorboards in the hall and then the sound of the swooshing of their heavy front door closing. She wanted to react somehow but felt paralysed by her grief. She couldn’t move. She listened to the stillness of the house; it was still dark out. She shook out a couple more of her tablets, swallowed them down and fell into a deep sleep.
When she woke again, she still felt exhausted. She had slept too deeply and it took a while for the tablets to wear off so she felt like a zombie detached from the world going on around her. And then she remembered Adam was gone. She felt numb. She couldn’t even get out of bed. She just wanted the pain to go, just to leave her in peace even for a few moments.
She couldn’t compete any more with the fight and struggle to live her daily life. She just wanted to be asleep again and not wake up to her horrible reality. She swallowed back some more tablets, but they weren’t working any more – sleep didn’t come so easily now. She opened up her drawer and took out the photo and stared at the familiar face of her baby boy. She tipped more tablets into the palm of her hand, looking at them momentarily before stuffing the fistful into her mouth and washing them back.
She lay back down and waited, but they still weren’t working. She dragged herself out of bed, went down to the kitchen and pulled open the press above the fridge where they kept their alcohol. She reached up for the bottle of vodka that had been there for years, probably left over from some house party. She unscrewed the cap and watched the liquid slosh into a glass. She put it up to her lips but the alcohol stung her gums and made her grimace. She opened the fridge and found a carton of orange juice. She poured it on top of the vodka before knocking the whole mixture back. Within minutes she began to feel relaxed and subdued. She brought the bottle back up to the room with her.
She tipped out another few tablets and washed them down with the vodka. She was able to drink it neat this time; it didn’t taste as bad now. She felt the familiar deadening of all her senses, the sounds from outside the house got further away. It was harder to see. She didn’t want to move, she just wanted to lie there. She gulped back some more vodka and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of peace and deep relaxation until she was far away from all the heartache that was her life.
53
When Rob had heard his doorbell go in the early hours of the morning, he knew it was something serious. He had been dumbstruck to see Adam standing on his doorstep with his holdall on the ground at his feet. Seeing the dishevelled state that his brother was in was frightening. Adam was a shadow of his former self. His gaunt face was now creased and lined and the dark circles under his eyes showed a frightening depth. He ushered him in but Adam was barely able to speak.
Rob could make a good guess at what had happened, but he could hardly believe it. He had known things were bad between them but he had never thought that Adam would actually leave her. His brother adored Emma, he always had from the day he met her – they were the couple he always looked up to, his benchmark for an ideal relationship. They were the one couple he would never have imagined splitting up. They were good together, each still an individual but complementing the other.
He hoped that his brother just needed some headspace for a couple of days but he wasn’t so sure and Adam didn’t seem to know himself.
Adam sat in stunned silence on Rob’s settee. He had been in denial for so long and he still couldn’t believe it had actually happened. He had just got up and left her. He hadn’t planned it. It hadn’t been premeditated; he just literally had had enough. Seeing Emma’s lack of expression had hurt. Deep down if he was honest some part of him had hoped it would have been enough to snap her out of the despair and to bring her back to him but nothing was giving. He had hoped that she might have sat up and asked him to stay, that she would say that she did still need him but instead her face had shown no reaction, as if she really couldn’t care less or wasn’t even registering what he was saying to her. As if he was a complete stranger to her.
He didn’t know how long he was going to stay with Rob – it could be a few days, it could be months or maybe they would never work it out. All he knew was that he couldn’t stay there any more.
54
Zoe dialled Emma’s mobile number yet again but it just rang out and went to her voicemail. She had been phoning her and leaving messages for hours now and for some reason it made her feel uneasy. When she told Steve that she was worried, he said he would drive her over there. Emma had been very low over the last few days. She couldn’t explain why but something told her she should just go and check on her friend. She had tried ringing Adam to make sure that everything was okay but she hadn’t managed to get hold of him either.
When they arrived outside Emma’s house on Cherry Tree Road, Steve stayed in the car while Zoe walked up the path and pressed the bell. She noticed Adam’s bike wasn’t there. Normally it was chained to the railings whenever he was at home. She waited for a while before ringing the bell again but no one was answering. She began to feel stupid then. Emma had probably just gone out. Or she might be asleep, in which case Zoe really didn’t want to wake her. She rang Emma’s mobile again but there was no answer.
She turned around and got back into Steve’s car, cursing herself for overreacting as usual. Steve was just reversing out the driveway when Zoe noticed that the bedroom light upstairs was on. Surely if Emma was asleep she wouldn’t leave the light on? She asked Steve to stop the car again. She jumped out and ran back to the front door. She started ringing the bell again and pounding on the knocker but there was no answer. She couldn’t explain it but she knew something wasn’t right.
Steve joined her and they both went around to the side of the house and scaled the locked wooden gate before hopping down onto the patio. They tried the back patio door but that was locked too.
Zoe knew that Emma sometimes left a spare key in the shed. She swung back the creaky wooden door and went into the cobweb-covered shed. She went over to a frame of shelves and looked under the usual flowerpot but there was nothing there. She began to search under and inside other flowerpots and containers but she couldn’t find it anywhere. Steve was just about to pick up a hammer and use it to break the glass door, when Zoe found the key wedged behind a box of tools.
They hurried to the back door. Zoe fumbled with the key in the lock for a few seconds before it clicked open. They let themselves in.
“Emma?” Zoe shouted. “Are you here, Emma? Emma, are you okay?”
She bounded up the stairs and pushed back the door to Emma’s bedroom. She saw her friend lying there on top of the duvet cover, white froth coming from the side of her mouth.
Steve came into the room behind her. “Oh, shit!”
Zoe ran over to her and instinctively lifted her head in her hands before remembering hearing that you shouldn’t move the person, or was that for people that had a physical injury? She couldn’t remember, so she removed her hands and watched as Emma’s head flopped backwards onto the pillow again. She observed the bottle of vodka and a brown plastic vial with a pharmacist’s label.
“Emma, what have you done to yourself?” she whispered.
Steve put his head down onto Emma’s chest. “She’s breathing but it’s very shallow.”
Zoe jerked into action immediately and frantically tried to dial 999, her fingers clumsy and awkward on the vinyl b
uttons. An engaged tone.
“Shit, Steve, what’s the emergency number from mobiles?” Her mind was blank and wouldn’t allow her remember what she needed to.
“112.”
This time a voice answered, “Hello, Emergency services, how may I direct your call?”
“It’s my friend, I think she may have overdosed on some tablets, she’s comatose here, she’s – she’s frothing at the mouth.”
“Is she breathing?”
“Yes – but it’s very faint.”
“Okay, now give me your address and I’ll send an ambulance over there immediately.”
“59 Cherry Tree Road, Rathmines, Dublin 6. Please hurry.”
She looked at Emma where she was lying splayed on the bed. She didn’t know whether they should be shaking her or doing chest compressions like they did on medical shows or if they should just leave her alone altogether. All the medical advice she had ever heard was jumbled around inside her head, none of it helpful or any use in this situation. She willed the ambulance to hurry up. Every minute felt like an eternity.
Eventually they heard a siren blaring in the distance so Steve ran down the stairs and out the front door onto the road so that he could flag the ambulance down and hopefully save time.
The paramedics stormed up the stairs and within seconds they had lifted Emma gently off the bed and placed her still body onto a stretcher. They carried her downstairs and put her into the back of the ambulance. They allowed Zoe to come in the back with them and Steve said he’d follow behind in his jeep. One of the paramedics hooked Emma up to some machines and then they sped off.
On the journey to the hospital, they worked on trying to stabilise Emma. They asked Zoe questions such as “What’s her name?” and “What medication was she on?” and “Has there been anything out of the ordinary with her behaviour in recent times?” Zoe wasn’t sure where to start with this one. Should she go over everything that had happened in the last year – the accident and losing her son? As the ambulance whizzed down the road she could only see bits of the journey through the small portholes with an orange tint so people couldn’t see in. She knew people were probably looking at the ambulance wondering who was behind its doors – she did it herself all the time to pass the time in traffic – and now that it was her best friend she wished she could swap with them and be the ones sitting at the traffic lights with the idle thoughts.
As soon as they arrived at the hospital, the back doors were thrown open and they flew off through double doors with Emma’s stretcher. Zoe followed them but was told she had to wait outside the A&E.
Even though she had given up smoking years ago, Zoe desperately needed one now. She went outside and found herself asking an old man for a cigarette. It was a short, stubby green Major but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke catch the back of her throat; she had forgotten how strong they were.
Steve came up beside her moments later and put his jacket over her shoulders. “Here, put this on – you’ll catch your death.”
Zoe remembered Adam. She needed to tell him. She took out her mobile out and dialled his number.
“Adam – it’s Zoe.”
“What is it, Zoe?” He sounded apprehensive.
“I’m at the hospital, Adam. It’s Emma – I found her – look, Adam, it seems she’s taken an overdose.”
He didn’t respond.
“Are you there, Adam?” she asked urgently.
“Jesus Christ – an overdose of what?”
“Vodka and some sleeping tablets, I think. She’s in Dublin County Hospital.”
“I’m on my way.”
While Zoe and Steve waited outside for Adam to arrive, she dialled Emma’s parents’ number.
She was relieved when Emma’s dad picked up. She was afraid that news like this would break her mother altogether.
“Peter – it’s Zoe.”
“Zoe? Is everything okay?”
“No – it’s Emma – she’s in the A&E in Dublin County Hospital. It seems she’s taken an overdose.”
* * *
Emma parents, who lived only a short distance from the hospital, arrived first. Her mother had red-rimmed eyes and her father was ashen. They were back at the same hospital they had been in when they had lost their grandson. They weren’t able for this. They had aged a shocking amount over the last year, more than they had in the last ten years; the rollercoaster of human emotion was too much at this stage of their lives. They were in their sixties, life was meant to be winding down for them now – instead they found themselves living through their hardest years.
“Do you know what happened?” Peter Fitzpatrick seemed to be the only one capable of coherent speech.
“I called over to her – and found her lying there. Her sleeping tablets and a bottle of vodka were beside the bed.”
“Oh God – I – I –” Her mother broke down.
“She’s going to be okay,” Zoe tried to reassure her. Jesus Christ, she prayed she would be all right! “Emma is strong – she’s a fighter.”
“Can we see her?” Emma’s dad asked as if she was the authority for the hospital.
“I don’t think so, they told me to wait here. They’re treating her at the moment.”
“What about Adam? Where was he?”
“I’m not sure but I rang him too – he’s on the way.”
After a while they begged the hospital staff to tell them what was going on but were told only that she was being treated and they wouldn’t know anything for a while.
They sat in anxious silence, praying that she would be okay.
55
The drive to the hospital in the darkness had seemed to take forever. Rob drove as fast as he could and luckily the roads were clear from traffic at that time of night. They sat in silence as the thoughts whirred around inside Adam’s head. It was all his fault. He shouldn’t have left her. It was stupid and selfish to walk out on her like that; he knew she was at a low ebb and he had just walked out on her. He would never forgive himself. Thank God Zoe had found her. What if she hadn’t? Well, it didn’t bear thinking about. What the fuck had he been thinking? She needed him more than ever and he had just walked out like that! He had pushed her over the edge. This whole mess was his fault. He could imagine her lying there barely breathing. What if she died? He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t go through all of this again. He couldn’t lose her too. He wasn’t religious, but he prayed and begged God on that car journey to spare her.
As they pulled into the car park, the sight of the hospital brought it all back again. The awful ache in his chest, the feeling of life closing in around him; he could nearly feel the pain in his pelvis again as it had mended itself back together. He sat in the car and wondered if he would even have the strength to get out of it but Rob, seeing him shrink back, held out his arm and pulled him out. As the two brothers walked towards the doors, Adam thought he might collapse. He wasn’t able for this, but Rob gripped his arm tighter and pushed him on.
In the thronged waiting room, Emma’s parents, Zoe and her boyfriend came to meet them. He didn’t know what to say to them. Did they know that he had walked out on her that morning? Did they know it was all his fault?
“I’m sorry!” He broke down.
Emma’s dad put an arm around him. “You’re okay, it’s not your fault!”
“It is – I left her this morning.”
“What do you mean?”
“Adam, what happened?” his mother-in-law begged.
“I couldn’t take it any more. I just couldn’t do it. I don’t know what came over me but I just walked out. I’m so sorry.” His voice dissolved into a whisper.
It all started to make sense to everyone now.
“It’s okay, Adam – it’s not your fault. She was very fragile anyway.” Peter Fitzpatrick patted him on the back.
“How is she?” Adam somehow managed to ask.
“We’re not too sure,” said Zoe. “We’re just waitin
g to hear. Here, sit down.” She cleared off an ancient copy of Hello magazine with a ripped cover and patted a seat for Adam.
They all sat down again.
“Adam, you haven’t met Steve properly, have you?” said Zoe.
Adam vaguely recalled meeting him in his drunken state when Zoe and Steve had to put him in a taxi home.
They mumbled greetings to one another.
They all sat around, each transfixed by their own thoughts, oblivious to the hustle and bustle around them. No one spoke for long periods and then, when someone did open their mouth, it seemed too loud and incongruous so they just shut up again. Emma’s father kept on clearing his throat as though preparing to break into song – then he would get up off his chair and pace nervously around the room before sitting back down again. Emma’s mother looked as though she was saying a novena; her face was deep in pious concentration. Everyone else just sat still and either stared straight ahead or at the ground.
Adam sat and ran over the same internal monologue that had been running through his head since Zoe had first phoned him. He shouldn’t have left her, he should have got her help – that was what she had needed, why hadn’t he been able to see that? He would give anything to be able to turn back the clock to this morning. He needed to talk to her and tell her that he still cared, he was sorry, he loved her. He hoped it wasn’t too late, because he couldn’t bear that again, he could not lose another person in his life. He wasn’t tough enough to withstand that. He wished someone would tell him how she was doing.
Peter eventually approached a passing nurse.
“I’m Emma Fitzpatrick’s father – do you have any news on her?”
“I’m afraid I can’t discuss that with you but the doctor will be with you shortly.”
In a Moment Page 26
