‘That’s all we need,’ Erin said. ‘Like none of us are suffering enough.’
My pulse quickened as I recalled my last visit inside accident and emergency. Gran had tripped outside the shop and by the time Gary Russel the butcher phoned to tell me, Gran was being rushed to hospital by ambulance staff. An X-ray showed she’d landed so hard and at such an angle, she’d broken her hip. When I arrived, demanding they let me see her, Gran was already being prepped for surgery and my pleas went ignored.
My eyes traced the footsteps I’d taken as I’d paced the length and breadth of the area in which I now stood. Alone and in pain, Gran must have been so frightened. Overcome with guilt, I wished more than anything I’d got there sooner to reassure her. To tell Gran how much I loved her. The only life I’d ever known was with Gran and praying like I’d never before prayed, I hadn’t known what I’d do if I lost her.
‘The two of us against the world,’ she would say.
Over and again, I beseeched God, desperate for someone to come and tell me she was okay.
Goodness knows how many hours and a cardiac arrest later, Gran died on the operating table.
I’d previously told Erin about Gran’s fate and as if knowing what I was thinking, Erin reached out with a comforting hand. ‘Richard will be okay,’ she said, rubbing my arm. ‘And Joyce is a strong woman. Whatever’s going on, she’ll get through it.’
I nodded, desperate to believe her.
The doors to the treatment rooms swung open and straightening ourselves up, Erin and I looked over to see a nurse head for the reception desk. Mrs Data Protection pointed towards us and the nurse signalled us over.
‘If you come with me,’ she said. ‘I’ll take you through to your sister and brother-in-law.’
Erin and I shared a look, and relieved that Joyce had had the wherewithal to play along with my lie, I told myself that had to be a good sign.
‘How is Richard?’ Erin asked, as we followed.
‘He’s suffering from epigastric pain and has an elevated level of pancreatic enzymes which we’re treating intravenously. As for his palpitations, his electrocardiogram showed atrial fibrillation, so we’ll be monitoring him overnight.’
Listening to the nurse, I didn’t understand a word of what she said. All I knew was that Richard’s condition sounded serious. Aware the last thing Joyce needed was me breaking down, I did my best to calm myself. Forced to regulate my breathing, I told myself that not everyone goes into hospital and doesn’t come out.
‘We’ll assess him in the morning.’
We turned onto a corridor to see Joyce sat alone and adjacent to a closed door. Her shoulders were hunched, and she fiddled with a tissue so shredded there was hardly any of it left. Nothing like the formidable woman I’d grown to know and love, Joyce looked small and scared, and in that moment, I thought my heart would break.
Clocking our presence, relief appeared to sweep over Joyce, and she rose to her feet and rushed towards us. ‘Thank you for coming,’ she said. ‘I can’t do this on my own. And with Nial not being around, I didn’t know who else to call.’
‘What are sisters for?’ Erin said.
The nurse entered Richard’s room, leaving the three of us to ourselves.
‘The doctor’s still in with him,’ Joyce said. ‘I’m hoping I can see him soon.’
I swallowed hard. ‘He’s in the right place.’ Despite my experience, I refused to think anything different.
Joyce’s red and tear-stained eyes began to fill. ‘I’ve never seen anyone in such pain. The way he clutched his stomach and all the moaning and groaning.’ Her breath caught. ‘I thought he was going to die.’
As Joyce crumpled, Erin and I guided her back to her seat and both of us holding on to her, waited for her crying to ease.
‘Do they know what caused it?’ Erin asked.
Joyce nodded. ‘He’s been poisoned.’
Recalling Joyce’s prior conversations, I looked to Erin panic-stricken. As we both held our breath, I could see from Erin’s expression she was thinking the same thing.
Joyce stared at us, horrified. ‘Not by me!’
Erin and I exhaled.
‘How can you even think that? He did it to himself.’ Joyce reached into her bag for another tissue. ‘The blooming idiot went out foraging. You know, being the food expert he is.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘Great for Christmas, he said, before setting out.’ She blew her nose. ‘Not only did he come back with a huge bag of chestnuts, he’d already roasted and eaten half of them by the time I got home from town. Except they weren’t the sweet chestnuts like the ones you get in the shops.’ Joyce sighed. ‘All I can say is, thank God he wasn’t out collecting mushrooms.’
‘So what had he picked?’ Erin asked, confused.
