by Rona Halsall
The man looked up from where he knelt at Izzy’s side. ‘Can you tell us what happened?’
‘They’re sisters. They had a fight. That’s all I know. Anna – my neighbour – heard them shouting and came in to find out what was going on, by which time Izzy was unconscious and Fran was on the floor. She got her into bed, gave her something to calm her down. She’s prone to panic attacks, you see.’
Martha knew she was gabbling, her words coming out in one long stream that probably didn’t make a lot of sense.
‘Any idea what medication she might have given Fran?’ the woman tending to her said.
Martha shook her head then remembered the bag she’d brought home from the hospital. ‘I’ll go and look. See if I can find out. We brought a whole load of stuff back with us when she was discharged.’
She ran down the stairs and into the lounge where she’d dumped everything when they’d come in earlier. Her hands flew to her mouth when she saw the bag had been ripped open, bottles and pills strewn all over the floor. Christ, she must have panicked. Then she remembered the careful instructions she’d been given about certain pills and how they weren’t to be taken every day, some which couldn’t be taken together, and her head started pounding. What’s she done? She gathered up all the medication and ran back upstairs, dropping everything on the bed. She glanced at the paramedic, feeling completely helpless. ‘They were all open, all of them.’ Her chest was heaving, her voice gasping out of her. ‘I’ve no idea which of them she’s given her.’
The paramedic scanned the labels and puffed out her cheeks. ‘Looks like we could have an accidental overdose if she’s mixed this lot up. Possibility of internal bleeding if she’s had too much warfarin.’
Martha noticed that Fran’s face was even more swollen now, her skin taking on a deep purple hue, her right eye completely closed. She looked grotesque, and Martha’s eyes slid away, resting on Izzy’s body on the floor.
‘We’ve got a pulse,’ the male paramedic said as he carried on with his checks. ‘Looks like a punctured lung and internal bleeding. We need to be quick.’
Martha tensed. There was hope. She willed the paramedics to be faster, but there was nothing she could do to speed things up. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs made her turn and the helicopter pilot appeared. ‘I’ve got the stretchers downstairs.’
Martha watched as the team went about their business, and it wasn’t long before they had their two patients on stretchers and were transporting them downstairs.
‘Can you find your way to Derriford Hospital in Plymouth?’ the female paramedic said as she wheeled Fran towards the door. ‘We won’t have room for you in the chopper.’
Martha nodded, biting her lip as she watched the stretchers carrying Fran and Izzy being pushed down the path, across the field and into the helicopter. Her next thought was how on earth she was going to get to the hospital. She looked around, wondering where Izzy had parked her car, where her keys might be, a hand clasping her forehead, as if that would help her to think straight.
Her body was trembling, her legs weak and wobbly. I can’t drive, she realised. I’m in no state to be behind the wheel. Her gaze turned to Anna’s house; her car was parked in the drive but she knew that wasn’t an option either. Anna had been completely zoned out and had probably gone home to lie down, which was the best thing she could do, given the state of her. I hope she’s okay. There was no time to go and check now, though; she had to get to the hospital.
The sound of an engine roaring up the lane made her turn and she saw Neil’s Land Rover. He screeched to a halt outside her house and jumped out, his forehead creased into a concerned frown.
‘I was just coming to see what was happening,’ he said. ‘I saw the helicopter. Is it your mum again?’
She nodded, her words gasping out of her as she clung to his arm. ‘Can you give me a lift to the hospital? Derriford, Plymouth, they said.’ There was no time to explain and she ran round the front of the car, pulled the door open and climbed in before he had a chance to answer. Of course he’d take her. Neil was the most dependable person she knew, and she thanked God that he’d seen the helicopter and thought to come and check that everything was okay.
He set off like a rally driver and she sat back in the seat, grateful that he understood the urgency without having to know any of the details. She had no energy to speak, could not make sense of what had just happened, and only knew she had to be at the hospital for Fran and Izzy.
Martha closed her eyes. She was sweating, her heart galloping as if she was riding into battle, and she clung to the door handle as Neil threw the vehicle round corners, silently urging him on.
‘What happened?’ Neil asked once he’d navigated the narrow lanes and was on the main road.
‘There was… oh God, I don’t even know really.’ She rubbed at her temples. ‘My mum and my… aunt – I think they had a fight.’ She glanced at his profile, a look of grim determination on his face as he weaved through the traffic, and didn’t want to distract him with the details. ‘Sorry, I just… I just want them to be alive.’ She covered her face with her hands, holding back the tears.
Neil rubbed her shoulder. ‘Hey, come on, you’ve done your best. Let’s not think the worst, eh?’
But that was all Martha could think, her head filled with images of battered bodies and the determined quietness of the paramedics. She knew it was bad; there had been no reassurances, no comments of ‘no need to worry’ or ‘they’re going to be fine’.
Once they’d found out where Fran and Izzy were, Neil got them drinks and they sat in the waiting room, with assurances that the doctors knew where they were and would come and find them as soon as there was news.
‘I need to check on Anna.’ Martha turned to Neil, suddenly remembering the state her neighbour had been in. ‘She was acting really weird. I’m sure she’s in shock, but I couldn’t deal with her when Mum and Izzy were…’ She couldn’t carry on, her emotions building inside, ready to burst out at any moment.
‘Do you want me to ring her?’ Neil pulled his phone from his pocket. ‘I’ve got her number.’ He raised an eyebrow in question and Martha nodded. ‘I’ll go outside. Back in a tick.’
Martha watched him walk out of the waiting room, relieved that at least one worry was being addressed.
Her thoughts wandered and she sipped at her drink. How did it all go so wrong so quickly? There was clearly a deep-seated animosity between Fran and Izzy. She’d seen the way they’d looked at each other. Definitely no love lost there. She thought about their conflicting stories and knew there were probably elements of truth in what each of them had told her. The question was which parts to believe? Who’s my biological mum? Her heart said Izzy. Despite Fran’s assertions about her being mentally unstable, implying that she was a liar, she thought her story rang true. And they’d had such an instant connection, from the first time they’d met. In fact, she’d thought of Izzy as almost a soulmate, someone who really understood her like nobody else. Fran on the other hand, well, they were opposites. That didn’t mean there wasn’t love between them, but their relationship had been tested over the years, and with Fran’s self-destructive behaviour getting worse, it was Martha’s sense of duty that kept her at home more than anything else.
‘I can’t get an answer,’ Neil said, startling her as he reappeared.
Martha frowned, chewed at her bottom lip. ‘I’m really worried now. The whole thing was so shocking. I mean, grown women fighting! I didn’t see it, but Anna heard them, and they’ve more or less killed each other.’ Just saying it made her shudder. ‘Poor Anna, she did her best to sort Mum out, but it looks like she panicked and…’ Martha bit back her words, conscious of the fact that she shouldn’t accuse Anna of anything until the facts were clearer. How could she have known that combining Mum’s pills could have terrible consequences?
Neil tapped his phone against his chin as he thought. ‘Well, if you’re okay here, I can go back and check on her?’
He frowned. ‘But I’ll stay here if you’d rather not be on your own.’
Martha was completely conflicted now and not up to making any sort of decisions. ‘Shock can be dangerous, can’t it? Especially to someone Anna’s age.’
Neil tucked his phone in his back pocket. ‘Look, I’ll nip back and check on her, and if I’m worried, I’ll just get her in the car and bring her back with me, okay?’
Martha sighed, so glad he was taking control and planning on coming back. At least she didn’t have to worry about Anna now. ‘Thank you so much, Neil.’ She tried a little smile but her lips didn’t want to cooperate. Her chin wobbled. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you.’
He gave her an embarrassed grin. ‘No problem. You know you two are my favourite neighbours, don’t you?’
Martha stood and gave him a hug before he turned and left, thinking how strange it was that a crisis could bring people together. Of course, they’d always been friendly with Neil, but she’d never known he thought of them so fondly. Something she was very glad of now. At least she wasn’t completely alone.
It was over three hours before she had any news. A doctor bustled into the waiting area and ushered her into a side room, a nurse at his side. Martha could tell by the expression on his face that the news wasn’t good, could feel it squirming in the pit of her stomach.
‘Please, have a seat,’ the doctor said before sitting opposite her. He pursed his lips, gathering his thoughts. ‘I’m very sorry to tell you that Elizabeth…’ He glanced at the floor before looking at her again. ‘I’m afraid she succumbed to her injuries.’
Martha felt a jolt run through her, fastening her to her seat, making her back ramrod-straight. No, no. That can’t be right. Dead?
‘Unfortunately, there was a lot of internal bleeding.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘She had traumatic injuries to her chest, which had broken four ribs. One had punctured her lung. She could have survived that.’ He paused for a moment. ‘What killed her was a ruptured spleen.’
Martha nodded as he spoke. She felt distant, stuck in a haze of disbelief, and wasn’t aware of making herself stand, following the doctor through to a room where Izzy lay on a trolley. Her face was pale, her expression peaceful, her hands resting on top of the cream blanket that covered her body. She looked like she was asleep.
Izzy’s dead.
The thought scratched and tore at her, ripping through her heart, letting the sadness bleed out. Her legs went from under her, but the nurse was vigilant, catching her under the arm before she fell. She guided her to a chair.
Martha reached for Izzy’s hand but the nurse grabbed her arm, stopping her. ‘Sorry, I know this is hard, but I’m afraid you can’t touch her. There needs to be a post-mortem. The police have been informed.’
Martha clutched her hands in her lap as tears trickled down her face, dripped from her chin. It’s not right. It’s not. Izzy’s dead.
She gazed at her face, could see how their features were alike, recognising something of herself. She closed her eyes, her hands squeezing each other as the tears flowed freely.
My mum. The words didn’t fit as they should have done. But Izzy was a person she’d come to love and who, she knew, would have done anything for her. Of that she was certain.
She cried for the time they never had together, for all those lost years, the memories she should have of her birth mother. She cried for Izzy’s pain, for her devastation and confusion, for the injustice of it all. And she cried for a future that would never be, a future that would have been possible if only there had been some honesty, because there would surely have been room for both Fran and Izzy in her life.
Forty
Martha
Now
Martha was led away from Izzy’s body and taken to a waiting room, where her tears dried and a new anger was born inside her. She came to an understanding, a clarity in her mind. Izzy’s life meant something, it was important, and her death couldn’t go unnoticed or unpunished. Martha had been told the police were interviewing medical staff and would want to talk to her next. Her hand tightened round the plastic cup of water she’d been given. I’m going to tell them the truth. Every little thing I know. If Fran had done this to Izzy, Martha wasn’t going to protect her. This was the consequence of all those lies Fran had told over the years and it was time for a bit of honesty.
In the quiet stillness of the room, as her thoughts calmed down and became organised, she started to see the situation differently. She had no doubt that Izzy was her biological mother and Fran had adopted Martha because Izzy was too young to look after her. That made sense and she could see both sides of the argument. It also made sense that Fran had given false information on her birth certificate so that Greg thought she was his. What didn’t make quite so much sense was the threat to Greg from her biological father’s parents, leading to her mum running off to Cornwall, where she knew nobody. That made no sense at all.
Her thoughts were broken by the ping of a message. She checked her phone, seeing it was from Neil.
Anna not great. Very confused and distant. Taking her to the out of hours doctor for advice. Rung Charles and he’s coming tonight.
Martha frowned and typed her reply.
Who’s Charles?
Neil’s response was quick.
Anna’s son. He lives in London.
Now she remembered. She’d only met him a couple of times when he’d made fleeting visits to check work done on the property when Anna was away.
Anna. She frowned. Why did she give Mum all those tablets? Surely she’d know that could be dangerous? She was an intelligent woman, clear-headed and not prone to dithering. Excellent in a crisis, given past experience, when Martha had witnessed her calming things down with Fran. It seemed completely out of character.
Something else came to mind, a creeping unease with it. She frowned. The emergency services. When Martha had rung, they hadn’t seemed to know about any previous call, didn’t say they were on their way or anything like that. It was treated as a new incident. Now that’s odd, isn’t it? She hadn’t thought about it at the time, too anxious to get help as quickly as possible, but now she had to wonder: Did Anna actually call for an ambulance? She had a sneaking feeling that she hadn’t. And that meant…
Her eyes widened and she sat bolt upright in the chair, spilling water onto her lap.
She wanted them to die.
The thought hit her hard, out of nowhere, her brain making connections and coming up with a conclusion that chilled her. Anna was no fool. She would have realised Izzy’s injuries were serious. But instead of calling for an ambulance immediately, she’d left her while she got Fran into bed, gone and raided the bag of medication and got her to take a whole load of tablets. That wouldn’t have been quick. Although she might not have actively killed Izzy, she’d be aware that without medical assistance, she might not have long to live. And Fran? She’d filled her full of a deadly cocktail of medicine. It was deliberate, not a confused act of panic. Anna tried to kill her!
And just as she was trying to process that shocking idea, a nurse walked into the room.
Martha tensed, readying herself for the worst, but the nurse was smiling. ‘Your mum’s been taken up to a ward. Looks like they’ve got her stabilised now.’
Martha gasped, relief taking all her breath away.
‘You can go and see her if you like. Just for a little while.’
‘What about the police? I thought they wanted to talk to me?’
‘They were sorting out evidence. I’ll tell them where you are. There’s a visitors’ lounge on the ward, you can speak to them there. I’ll send them up when they’re ready, okay?’
Martha followed the nurse down the corridors, hit by a weariness she’d never felt before, her legs so heavy it was an effort to walk.
Anna’s a killer?
The thought lodged at the front of her mind, but it really made no sense. Am I missing something?
The nurse led her into
a curtained bay, the ward quiet now that it was after ten o’clock. In the dim light, she could see that Fran’s face had swollen even more, the ring of bruises around her neck livid and garish. Martha looked at the sleeping form of the woman she’d called Mum for twenty-four years and was surprised by the numbness, the detachment she felt. She’d had a hand in Izzy’s death. She was the one who’d clearly been fighting with her, the one who had caused her injuries, but Izzy had injured Fran as well. It looked like she’d been trying to strangle her, so maybe Fran had acted in self-defence?
Even so… Will I ever know the truth now Izzy’s dead?
Martha sighed and sank into the chair by the bed, closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think about it, but her mind had other ideas. Her mind had a problem to solve and worried at it like a terrier after a rabbit, refusing to let go of the idea that Anna had acted maliciously. Why would she do that? It seemed inconceivable. She’d always been kind and helpful to them but then she remembered Anna’s reaction to Izzy, how she’d been determined to get rid of her. The look on her face when Izzy had gone. She thought about it now. Fear, she decided. It had looked very much like fear.
Everything had been normal with Anna until Izzy had appeared, so did Anna know her? Maybe she’d come across Izzy when she was nursing? She pondered this for a moment.
What do I really know about Anna?
She’d been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. She knew her as a person, knew that she liked her tea in a china cup and loved to go beach-combing and watch the sea when a storm was raging and thought Dad’s Army was hilarious. But she knew nothing about her life, her background. ‘She’s very private,’ she’d heard Fran say. ‘Doesn’t like a fuss.’
She’d been more than kind to them, had let them live in her house for a low rent all these years, had given Fran regular paid work. She’d even given Fran her old car when they’d first moved down there. She obviously wasn’t short of cash, but all those kindnesses suddenly seemed strange. A bit too much. Martha felt something start to click in her mind, a connection that she couldn’t quite grasp.
