Early the next morning, she and Howard waited impatiently for Dr. Bell’s prognosis.
“He’s doing extremely well. In fact, I think we should take him off the ventilator.”
Laura turned to Howard and they exchanged radiant, tense smiles, hardly daring to believe what was happening.
“I’m just going to remove the ET tube.” As he disconnected the ventilator, then gently took out the endotracheal tube that fed down into Daniel’s lungs, Daniel suddenly coughed and his eyes opened.
“Oh, my God,” said Laura, her hands to her face.
“Daniel, can you hear me?” said Dr. Bell, placing an oxygen mask on him. “You’re perfectly safe, you’re in the hospital. My name is Dr. Bell and I’m here to look after you.”
Daniel stared around wildly, uncomprehendingly.
“Don’t panic, everything’s fine. I’m going to hold your hand and I want you to blink if you can hear me.”
For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then he blinked and Laura was filled with a joy that weakened her even as it exploded through her body and tears poured uncontrollably down her face.
“You’re in the hospital and your mum and dad are here.”
“I’m here, I’m here,” said Laura, wiping away her tears as she went to him and took his other hand. He looked at her, but she wasn’t sure if he could see.
“You’ve had an accident, but you’re getting better,” said Dr. Bell.
Daniel’s eyes closed again and Laura panicked. “What’s happened?”
“It’s perfectly normal. He’ll come round gradually, regain his orientation over time.”
“So he’s okay?”
“We’ll know more later, maybe over the next few days and weeks, but this is very good.”
* * *
Daniel’s recovery started slowly, and Laura, at first, was constantly reminded of how much he couldn’t do, how it took him two weeks just to sit up in bed, how he still needed to be fed, how the sores on his body and lips took so long to heal, but gradually she noticed little parts of him coming back to her. A smile, a hoarse word, a moment of lucidity—and after each of these, she was amazed at the progress he’d made.
“It’s because he’s young and he wants to get better,” said Dr. Bell, and Laura felt an immense pride that Daniel was so determined.
She would stare at him in wonder, amazed by the transformation. The doctors repeatedly reminded her that there was a long way to go: He could still have some damage to the brain; his memory could be affected. Laura, though, was filled with euphoria and brushed these warnings aside. So caught up was she in his recuperation that at first she forgot about Cherry. Then, in the kitchen one evening, preparing a meal for herself and Howard, it came back to her like a steam train, fast, thundering, flattening everything in its path.I told Cherry he was dead.
It was a huge problem, but something she didn’t want to deal with at that moment. All her thoughts were taken up with Daniel’s recovery and the work involved, the physiotherapy, the speech therapy, the time spent just talking to him, encouraging him. She didn’t want that interrupted or complicated in any way, and Cherry was most definitely a complication. Laura had a vision of Cherry sucking the new life out of him, telling lies, emotionally manipulating him with her eye on the prize, and she felt a wave of fear. Although recovering well, he was nowhere near his optimum strength, and Laura pushed aside the guilt and told herself it was the best thing for him that Cherry was kept away for now.
She went down to the den to get some wine for their meal and saw Howard thrashing out laps in the pool. She realized she’d have to think of something to tell him, something to explain Cherry’s absence. Thank God he hadn’t asked about her; presumably, he’d also been so involved in Daniel, he hadn’t thought to. What on earth could she say? She felt panicked as she remembered what she’d done, the lie she’d told, and quickly moved through the pool room to the cellar and grabbed a chilled bottle of Chablis from the fridge. As she made her way back upstairs, she saw something wet on the floor, a patch of glistening tiles, and she bent down to investigate. It seemed to be water, but it hadn’t come from the pool. A languid drip fell onto her hair, and, startled, she looked up. She was right underneath the opaque window. She frowned. Had it come from there? It was too far to see, but that would mean there was a leak.
“What’s the matter?” called Howard.
“I think we’ve got a leak.”
He swam over and stared up at the ceiling. “What? We’ve only just got the tiles repaired. Bloody next-door builders.”
“I’ll get in touch with them.”
Later, as she and Howard sat down at the table, she tentatively broached the subject.
“By the way, I spoke to Cherry a few weeks ago.”
“Yes? What day’s she been visiting?”
Laura hid her trembling hands under the table. “She’s moved on.”
