The second wives club, p.21
The Second Wives Club, page 21
“Oh, Christ!” Fiona let out a sob. Gently, she brushed Susan’s hair away from her face. Her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful. “Are you a doctor?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m a physical therapist. I’ve just finished work at the health club. Susan? Susan?” he said firmly, but there was no response.
“Is she going to die?” Fiona felt she was going to vomit again.
“I don’t know, but an ambulance is on the way.”
Fiona suddenly became aware of someone sobbing nearby and looked up. A young man, probably in his twenties, was being comforted by another passerby.
“That’s the driver,” the physical therapist said, following her gaze. “Poor bastard. He swerved to avoid a lad on a bike and ended up hitting your friend instead. He’s in a state of shock.”
Fiona lowered her face to Susan’s ear. “Susan? It’s me, Fiona. Can you hear me?” But again, nothing.
“If you can hear me, stay strong. Please don’t die.” She was thinking about Ellie now, the little girl who had already endured the death of one “mummy.” To lose another would be unthinkable.
The therapist looked deathly white, his features pinched. “She’s losing a lot of blood.”
“Oh, God, hurry.” Fiona clamped her hand to her mouth and stood up. She could hear a siren in the distance, coming closer by the second.
Putting Susan’s handbag back down on the pavement for a moment, she rummaged through her own and pulled out her mobile phone. Flipping it open, she took a long, deep breath, knowing she was about to make the most difficult phone call of her life. “Hello, Nick? It’s Fiona Bartholomew, from Susan’s yoga class.” She paused. “Yes, it was a great session, thanks. Listen, don’t panic…but Susan’s been in an accident. She’s still alive, but she’s in a bad way, and you need to get here as soon as possible.”
A weak ray of sunshine filtered through a crack in the curtains and fell across the bed, illuminating Susan’s face.
Nick stared down at it, his eyes brimming with tears. “Do you think she’s going to be all right?” It was the third time he’d asked the question in as many minutes. “I don’t think I can go through all this again.”
He didn’t specify what “this” meant, but Fiona knew he was referring to Caitlin’s death. She walked round the bed and put a comforting arm around his shoulders. She didn’t know him very well, but it seemed the natural thing to do. “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” she answered.
She knew that was what he wanted to hear, but the truth was that Fiona was just as panic-stricken as he was about Susan’s chances of survival. Having traveled with her in the ambulance, she’d heard the urgency in the voices of the emergency personnel, seen the concern in their eyes.
She hadn’t understood most of the medical jargon being fired back and forth across Susan’s motionless body, but “acute” and “critical” had stuck in her mind. Now here she was, after a three-hour operation, lying comatose and wired up to various machines and IVs. Her leg had been reset, but one of the nurses had warned Fiona and Nick that there was still a chance she’d walk with a pronounced limp.
That was bad enough, she thought, but there were other worries. They had been told that, because of the loss of blood, Susan’s body was in shock. She had also suffered a fractured skull, and it would be difficult to tell if there’d been any brain damage until she came to.
“Was she happy?”
“Sorry?” Fiona understood exactly what Nick was asking but feigned puzzlement to buy herself some time to think about what she could, or should, say. She knew how important it was to choose her words carefully while Susan’s life still hung in the balance.
“Was she happy when you spent time with her? With me? With us? With her life?” He looked anguished. “If she dies, I need to know she was happy.”
She smiled warmly, tears forming in her eyes. “She was very happy. She loves you and Ellie desperately, and for that reason, I know she’ll pull through.”
“God, I hope you’re right.” He laid his forehead on the sheet next to Susan’s immobile arm. “I’ll never forgive myself if she doesn’t.”
Fiona moved away from him and sat in the chair on the other side of the bed. “Nick, it wasn’t your fault. It was a terrible accident, that’s all. There was nothing you or I or anyone else could have done about it.”
He lifted his head and stared miserably at the tube running from Susan’s nose, supplying her with oxygen. There was also one in the back of her hand and another running into her chest, just below her left shoulder. “I know. But that’s not what I feel guilty about.”
She said nothing, assuming he would continue in his own good time. He walked over to the window and opened the curtains, the soft light giving the room an ethereal glow. Standing with his back to her, he stared out over the road beyond from his sixth-floor vantage point.
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” he murmured. “I always used to hate that cliché ‘you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone,’ but it’s true. So true.”
He turned and walked back to the bed, staring down at Susan.
“She’s not gone,” said Fiona softly. “She’s just temporarily waylaid.” She crossed her fingers behind her back, praying it was true.
Nick sighed. “You know what I mean, though. Ever since you first called me, I’ve been thinking, over and over again, about what life would be like without Susan…” His voice wavered and he trailed off, clearly struggling to control his emotions. “And the answer? Fucking unbearable. And not because of everything she’s done to support me and Ellie since Caitlin died, but because she’s my best friend. I’d miss everything about her and who she is as a person.”
“We all would. She’s an amazing woman.”
He gave a weak smile. “She is, isn’t she? I’ve always known that, but I don’t think I ever expressed it enough, particularly to her. I never got to say the things I wanted to say to Caitlin before she died, and now, God help me, it might happen again. I can’t bear the thought. I could kick myself for being such an arsehole.” He kicked the chair instead.
Fiona hoped that, despite the tubes and machines, inwardly Susan was hearing every single one of the words she’d been desperate to hear from Nick for so long.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” she murmured. “As I said, she was really happy with you and your life together.”
“It’s very sweet of you to say so,” Nick sighed, “but I suspect you’re not telling me the whole truth. Or maybe you didn’t know it.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He sighed. “Gut instinct, common sense, and, of course, the bloody bike ride.”
“Oh yes.” Fiona smiled. “She told me about that.”
She looked across at Susan and contemplated for a moment the sadness of the situation. Just a few hours ago, she’d been talking about riding a bike up and down the mountains of Vietnam. Now here she was unable to move, fighting for her life.
“I don’t care what anyone says. Mothers don’t go on arduous treks or bike rides unless they’re trying to escape an unhappiness or trying to find themselves…God, I hate that phrase,” he added miserably.
Fiona stayed silent, her mind whirring with the details of her conversation with Susan just minutes before the accident. Nick had clearly ascertained for himself that Susan was having reservations about their relationship, so she figured there was little harm at this point in imparting some of what Susan had said to her while being sure to tread carefully.
“As I said, she wasn’t unhappy as such,” Fiona said slowly. “I think she just felt she needed a little space, some timeout to do something for herself.”
Nick had turned his full attention on her now, obviously hungry for any snippet of information as to Susan’s state of mind before she’d been hit by the car. “She did? Why?”
Why. Such a simple word, yet so loaded with pitfalls.
“She didn’t really say,” Fiona lied. “But if I were to put myself in her shoes and take a wild guess, I would say it’s because she’s running with the baton of someone else’s life, and that’s a really tough thing to do. I imagine it would be easy to lose sight of yourself after a while.” She felt proud of having found a way to articulate Susan’s feelings without actually attributing them to her and, therefore, betraying her confidence.
“Really?” Nick looked perplexed. “If that was what she was feeling, why didn’t she just say?”
Fiona smiled benevolently. “We women like to make out that we’re simple creatures, but really we’re a complex lot.”
“You can say that again,” he interrupted, more with resignation than irritation.
“And one of those complexities,” she continued, “is that it takes us a hell of a long time to register that we might want to change something about our lives, and even longer to actually express it.”
“You think she wanted to change her life?” He looked close to tears again.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” she added hastily. “I’m talking about women in general. Susan adored her life with you and Ellie, but all I’m saying is that it’s a tough gig.”
“Why, because of Caitlin?”
Fiona wrinkled her nose slightly. “Not because of Caitlin as a person, but because of the situation, yes.” She sighed. “I only have to look at my own life to understand what Susan might have been feeling.”
“Go on…” He looked both anguished and hopeful.
“Well, when I married David, I inherited Jake, who was delightful. But of course, there’s a mother and grandparents to deal with as well.” She smiled ruefully. “Sometimes it just all gets to be a bit much. But at the end of the day, I have some solace in knowing that I don’t have to be Jake’s mother, as he already has one, and I can complain with impunity to David about Belinda because she’s still alive and kicking and driving us mad.”
Nick frowned slightly. “I don’t get what you’re saying. Susan was going on a bike ride because she couldn’t complain about Caitlin?”
“No, she doesn’t want to complain about Caitlin, she adored her. But don’t you see? She’s living with an angel, a woman who, in her eyes and seemingly everyone else’s, was perfect in every way…and she probably feels inadequate from time to time.” She was careful to throw in a supposition. “So she likely wanted to do something for herself, something that didn’t involve anyone else, and something that would only be about her—without the shadow of Caitlin right beside her.”
“And that’s it? That’s the reason?”
Fiona shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s the reason, I’m just guessing. But if I were in her shoes, that’s probably why I’d be doing it.”
Fiona knew there were myriad other reasons why Susan had been temporarily fleeing to Vietnam, but she didn’t feel that now was the time to impart them. She was hopeful Susan would recover, and when she did, it would be up to her to tell Nick that she felt taken for granted. And that she wanted a baby. Not anyone else.
Nick was staring at Susan again, clearly willing her to wake up. But there was no response. He used a finger to wipe away the moisture under his eyes.
“I loved Caitlin deeply,” he murmured. “And when she died, I seriously thought I’d never be able to feel happy again. But Susan saved me, and I love her just as much. I know they are…were…two very different women, but it doesn’t mean I can’t love them equally…does it?” He looked at Fiona for reassurance.
“Of course it doesn’t. After all, people have two, three, four children and love them all the same, so why not partners?”
“Exactly.”
He seemed content with her analogy, and they lapsed into silence for a few moments, the only sound the beeping of the machine monitoring Susan’s heart rate.
“I suppose I have been taking her for granted a bit,” he added eventually. “You know, not showing my appreciation enough for everything she does for Ellie and me.” Bingo, thought Fiona. Now he had introduced the subject, and she felt comfortable continuing it.
“I suppose we’re all guilty of taking our partners for granted to a certain extent. And they us.” She smiled reassuringly. “I don’t know the details of your relationship with Susan, so I can’t really comment, but I would say that, given what she took on, Susan perhaps deserves more praise and encouragement than most.”
She stared down at her friend and smiled sadly. “It’s a big deal taking on such a young child, particularly when her mother has just died. She’s done an admirable job.”
“She has.” Nick nodded in agreement and turned back to the bed. “And I haven’t shown her nearly enough gratitude for that.”
Fiona heard a creak behind her and turned to see a middle-aged doctor walk into the room, followed by what were presumably two medical school students judging by their earnest expressions.
“Hello,” he said, extending a surprisingly smooth hand to Fiona. “I’m Dr. Pearson. I operated on this young lady.” He pointed toward Susan.
“Hello, I’m Fiona, the friend who came with her in the ambulance. This is her partner, Nick.”
Nick had already stood up and walked to the end of the bed, as if a closer proximity to the surgeon might bring news faster.
“Is she going to be all right?” He looked like he might be sick.
The doctor pursed his lips, rocking backward and forward on his toes. “Well, that’s always a tough question to answer in cases like these,” he said carefully. “But if you mean is she going to die, then I can say that, almost certainly, she won’t.”
“Almost certainly?” Nick interrupted.
“Yes, one can never be one hundred percent because of other eventualities, but as it stands, I don’t think…,” he glanced down at his notes, “…that Susan’s life is in danger.”
“Oh, thank God!” Relief swept over Nick’s face, and he looked at Fiona and smiled broadly. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
The doctor raised a warning hand in the air. “Hang on a minute, there’s still a way to go yet.”
“What do you mean?” Nick looked desolate again.
“Well, we’re monitoring her to make sure that her intercranial pressure doesn’t rise. Susan has sustained a head injury, and until she comes round, we won’t know whether there’s been any brain damage. But the good news is that it could have been much worse.”
He stared down at the clipboard again, making a couple of additional notes. “It seems her legs…one of them in particular…bore the brunt of the impact, and she fell back on the pavement and hit her head. If it had been the other way round, I doubt very much that she’d have survived.”
Nick’s gaze left Susan’s face and traveled down the bed to where her legs were covered with a tentlike structure.
“How are her legs?” asked Fiona. She’d realized that she and Nick had been so concerned about the possibility of Susan dying from her head injury that they hadn’t even contemplated the damage to the rest of her body.
The surgeon threw back the blanket to reveal a bridge structure protecting Susan’s legs, one of which was encased in plaster and encircled by a metal frame with pins jutting out.
“It was touch-and-go when she first came in, but luckily we didn’t have to amputate. It’s a compound fracture, and now the uphill struggle for Susan will be trying to walk again.”
Nick, having initially looked heartened by the surgeon’s update, was now looking pale and gaunt again. “Is there a danger she could still lose her leg?”
“I hope not, but again, I can’t rule it out completely. If everything goes according to plan, it’ll be fine. But it could take months for her to walk again, and she’ll have substantial scarring.”
“Cruel, isn’t it?” Nick looked at the surgeon. “Susan wasn’t…isn’t…the most secure of people about her looks, but she always felt good about her legs. They were the one part of her body that she really liked…” He trailed off, his voice breaking with grief.
Fiona cleared her throat. “So how long do you think it might be before we have a clearer idea of when Susan might recover?” she asked the doctor.
“First things first,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Let’s wait for her to regain consciousness, and then we’ll see.” He turned to his students. “We’d better move along. We have lots of other patients to see.” Pausing, he looked back at Nick. “I’ll be back here tomorrow, so let’s hope things are a little better then, eh?”
“There you are. I told you she wouldn’t die.” Fiona smiled.
Nick didn’t smile back. “Yes, but I was so busy worrying about her head injury that I hadn’t really thought about the damage to her leg. It sounds like coming out of the coma will be just the start of a long struggle back to health.”
He started to cry, quietly at first, then louder, gulping sobs that he tried to suppress behind his hand. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“Don’t be. It would be odd if you didn’t get upset,” she said softly.
“It’s just that I don’t know how we’ll cope.”
Fiona leaned across the bed and squeezed his hand. “It’s better than having to cope with her death. You’ll be just fine.”
He nodded but didn’t look convinced.
“I’m afraid I have to take off now,” she ventured gently. “I have a very hungry little girl at home. If I left it up to David to feed her, she’d be eating baked beans for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“He sounds about as useless as me.” Nick attempted a smile.
Fiona chuckled. “He’s not that bad really, I’ve been teaching him along the way. Don’t forget, you’re never too old to learn.”
“As I’m probably about to discover.”
“If you ever need a break, we can have Ellie to stay with us. I’m sure she’d love helping out with Lily.”
“Thanks. She seems happy enough with Caitlin’s parents for the time being, but if that changes, it’s nice to have an alternative.” He walked around to her side of the bed and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” Fiona nodded toward Susan. “I love her too, you know. She’s an incredible woman.”
