have guessed.
The policeman was seated half out of sight behind the door of my room. Dad had clearly been talking about me, judging by the way he shut up like a clam as soon as I appeared at the threshold. In my peripheral vision I took in a dark uniform as the policeman rose to his feet.
“Rachel, hon, the police need some information fromyou, but don’t look worried … look who they sent.” He sounded as triumphant as a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, and I turned for the first time to look at the officer.
The room swayed; I knew my face must have drained of all color. I reached out blindly for the doorframe, knowing it wasn’t going to be any use. As I crumpled to the floor, in a swoon worthy of any Victorian gentlewoman, I had time to say just one word:
“Jimmy!”
THE GOOD THING about fainting in a hospital is that they know what to do with you right away. It was only a moment or two before I once again became aware of where I was. Seated on the chair that my father had occupied the night before, with my head stuck securely between my knees, I could feel the comforting hand of the nurse holding a cold compress against the back of my neck. I struggled to sit up.
“Don’t go rushing to get up yet, Rachel. Take a moment or two.” Then, presumably directing the next comment to my dad, “She may have been under the hot shower a wee bit too long, she’ll be fine in a moment.” I very much doubted that. I strained against her hand and sat up.
I didn’t scream or shout out or even faint again, I just stared, totally transfixed, at the face that 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?”
“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anybody call an NHShospital that before!” The nurse clearly found this quite amusing.
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 demeanor.
“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 guessthey 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?”
“I don’t know, son, who knows.” My father’s voice sounded broken, “She thought
I
was dying of cancer.”
There was a long silence.
“She must have hit her
The policeman was seated half out of sight behind the door of my room. Dad had clearly been talking about me, judging by the way he shut up like a clam as soon as I appeared at the threshold. In my peripheral vision I took in a dark uniform as the policeman rose to his feet.
“Rachel, hon, the police need some information fromyou, but don’t look worried … look who they sent.” He sounded as triumphant as a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, and I turned for the first time to look at the officer.
The room swayed; I knew my face must have drained of all color. I reached out blindly for the doorframe, knowing it wasn’t going to be any use. As I crumpled to the floor, in a swoon worthy of any Victorian gentlewoman, I had time to say just one word:
“Jimmy!”
THE GOOD THING about fainting in a hospital is that they know what to do with you right away. It was only a moment or two before I once again became aware of where I was. Seated on the chair that my father had occupied the night before, with my head stuck securely between my knees, I could feel the comforting hand of the nurse holding a cold compress against the back of my neck. I struggled to sit up.
“Don’t go rushing to get up yet, Rachel. Take a moment or two.” Then, presumably directing the next comment to my dad, “She may have been under the hot shower a wee bit too long, she’ll be fine in a moment.” I very much doubted that. I strained against her hand and sat up.
I didn’t scream or shout out or even faint again, I just stared, totally transfixed, at the face that 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?”
“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anybody call an NHShospital that before!” The nurse clearly found this quite amusing.
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 demeanor.
“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 guessthey 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?”
“I don’t know, son, who knows.” My father’s voice sounded broken, “She thought
I
was dying of cancer.”
There was a long silence.
“She must have hit her
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