I didn’t scream, or shout out, or even faint again, I just stared, totally transfixed, at the face which had been missing from my life for five dreadful years. He smiled but something in my scrutiny caused it to waver and the greeting was rearranged into a look of deep concern.
‘Rachel?’ His voice was hesitant.
I asked the only question that came into my mind.
‘Am I in heaven?’ The nurse clearly found this quite amusing.
‘Well, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anybody call an NHS hospital that before!’
I ignored her.
‘Is this heaven? Are we all dead?’ That shut the nurse up. I saw the look my dad flashed to Jimmy. See? it said, as plainly as if he had spoken the words out loud. I told you she was acting strangely.
The nurse had regained enough composure to switch back into her briskly professional role.
‘Come along, back to bed now, Rachel. I think you need to have a little lie down.’ She was definitely annoying me now. Disregarding her once more, I directed my question only at Jimmy.
‘Did I die in the churchyard beside the grave?’
I guess his policeman’s training was the reason he answered such a bizarre question so calmly.
‘No, Rachel, you did not die in the churchyard. And beside whose grave?’
My next answer, not surprisingly, took the polish off his professional demeanour.
‘Yours, of course.’
I don’t know who pushed the emergency button this time. It could have been any one of the three of them. Hell, it could even have been me. I think we all needed some medical intervention at that point.
A young doctor I hadn’t seen before came speedily into the room. There was a rapid flurry of conversation. I caught the words ‘delusional’ and ‘sedative’ and ‘tests’. They all meant nothing. I could only stare at Jimmy as they laid me back on the bed, swabbed briefly at my arm and slid the hypodermic into my vein.
It was a much milder sedative than the day before. I guess they couldn’t risk pumping someone with a head injury with too much sedation. Although my limbs were relaxed as though I were floating on a buoyant bed of feathers, my brain was still working. My eyes had closed, but I was still awake. It was a pleasantly drunk feeling, without the room-spinning element.
‘Did she really mean that? Did she actually think I was dead?’
My father’s voice sounded broken.
‘I don’t know, son, who knows. She thought I was dying of cancer.’
There was a long silence.
‘She must have hit her head harder than anyone realised. She’s not going to be answering any questions today. Nothing she tells you right now will help you catch the bastard who mugged her.’
‘I realise that.’
‘You probably don’t need to be hanging around here. That doctor was ordering up a whole load more tests. I can call you when she’s more… with it.’
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
I was wheeled from department to department. I had an MRI, two further X-rays and several other tests with electrodes affixed to my head. By then I was awake and alert enough to be asking questions. But no one was talking to me, except in soft placating tones designed not to evoke another one of my ‘episodes’. When I was finally transported back to my room, it was empty. The staff nurse who helped me back into bed advised me that my dad and all the rest of my guests had moved down to the canteen for a cup of tea. When I asked who the ‘all’ referred to, she did not know.
So I sat bolt upright in bed, staring at the door, waiting to see how many more deceased visitors I would be receiving that day.
They came in in single file: my dad, then Jimmy, followed by Matt, Cathy and Phil. I stared at them in turn as they arrived. I was still looking a little surprised to see the last three when Matt broke away from the others, rushed to my bedside and kissed me tenderly on the lips. I flinched from the brush of his soft mouth upon mine, instantly looking over his shoulder to see how Cathy would react. Amazingly her face gave away none of the rage she must surely be feeling.
‘Matt,’ I hissed, my eyes flashing a warning towards his girlfriend. I could suddenly remember the vow he had made when dropping me back at the hotel: that he was not going to let me get away again. Did he really think this was the appropriate place to start that campaign?
Besides, I couldn’t concentrate on anyone other than the person standing at the foot of my bed. At some point during the day I guessed he must have gone off duty, for he was now out of uniform, wearing jeans and a dark shirt. But the most amazing thing of all was that no one else in the room seemed in the least bit amazed that he was there. It was like that old saying about ignoring the elephant in the room. This was so enormous, so ludicrously and mind-blowingly ‘wrong’ – how come everyone wasn’t reacting like me?