Never Too Late (22 page)

Maggie blinked back tears. “So what did you do that caused this improvement?” she asked.

Dr Negus raised his hands. “Absolutely nothing! It could well be the movement of the journey here that triggered something deep in his mind. We’ll never know.”

Maggie could only nod and bite her lip.

Dr Negus stood and held her shoulder in a gesture of sympathy and support for what she had been through. “We’ll let you know as soon as anything happens, of course,” he assured her. “When he does regain consciousness you do realise it will probably still be a long process to regain the best level of mental and physical health he’s capable of, don’t you?”

Maggie nodded again. “Thank you,” she stammered.

“You’re welcome,” he said and turned to leave, waving to the ward sister as he passed.

Maggie sat with Iain for another half hour trying to define what it was that had made her think there was a change, but there was nothing she could put her finger on. He lay there as inertly as before, so perhaps it had just been one of those momentary flickers she had seen on the chart. She stroked each finger of the hand she held and wondered what their future held.

Back at the car Deefor greeted her warmly, looking proud of having done his job well.

“Well, my boy,” she told him, “I reckon you deserve a good run now.”

He slowly waved his thickly plumed tail in grave agreement. She drove them to a spot she’d always liked and today instead of just passing by she pulled into a layby. Deefor jumped down from the car and stood patiently waiting for Maggie to attach his lead, but she headed off for the footpath and called him to her. He barked just once in excitement and followed her, nose busy on the trail.

They went across the heath in the bright fresh morning with the sun coaxing the scents of rich new growth up into the lark song filled air. The sky arched a rich azure above them, with just the wispiest feathers of cirrus drifting eastwards.

“You know what Deefor?” He cocked his head at her, for all the world as though he understood her every word. “For someone who loves walking I haven’t got out nearly enough,” Maggie told him. “There always seemed to be something else I ought to be doing that was more important. But there’s nothing more important than you getting your exercise is there, so now other things will have to wait. What a shame I’ll have to come out enjoying this every day!”

She lifted her arms and turned slowly, embracing the whole stunning world around them.

*

Absolutely typical! Maggie fumed. After all the long hours she had spent at his bedside did he wake up for her? Oh no, it was for that pretty young nurse with the auburn hair, whose voice always sounded as though she was about to burst into song. It was her who gave him his first drink of water since the accident and heard his first words, not his wife.

He was sleeping again when she arrived. At least it was sleep now, and not coma, Maggie consoled herself as she returned down the long corridor. It was pointless staying just to watch him sleep. The time was approaching fast for her own chat with him though. But what on earth should she say? And when would be the right time?

Unconsciously she chewed on the end of her thumbnail. She could never remember actually doing it, but had noticed during her bedtime routines how bad the habit had got. She was seriously considering painting her nails with one of those vile tasting liquids to prevent further damage.

When she got to her car she greeted Deefor and then took out her phone.

“James, we have good news at last. Your father came out of his coma today.”

“That’s brilliant news Mum! What did he say? Can he remember what happened?”

“He wasn’t awake for very long by all accounts, but he’s had a drink and is now sleeping comfortably. There’s not much point in my hanging around here at the moment, and they’ve asked me to revert to ordinary visiting hours now there’s no need to try and encourage him out of coma by talking to him. I’ll come back later and give you an update then. Can you let Chloe know?”

“Will do, Mum. We’ll probably both give him chance to get himself together a bit and visit Friday after work. Why not take a day off visiting duties and we can pop in to see you afterwards?”

“That would be lovely. I’ll do some supper for us all, and you can stay overnight if you like.”

“I’ll speak to Chloe and Keela and let you know.”

The next day she popped into the post office with a parcel for her mother’s birthday. It always felt strange to be selecting and posting birthday and Christmas presents so much in advance, but surface mail rates were so much cheaper than air mail it paid to be organised and get parcels off with the eight week lead time necessary for Vancouver. Postage dates were carefully marked on her kitchen calendar, and luckily she was in the habit of buying suitable gifts at any time during the year. If something she saw in a shop or market made her think of someone, she knew the item was right for them, so bought it and put it away. Not that the system was infallible – she had been known to buy two presents or cards that were either identical or very similar, having forgotten what she’d already bought until she went to put it away, but on the whole it worked well. Now it had saved her the hassle of trying to shop while she had so much else on her plate.

She really missed the physical presence of her family, even after all these years, and especially at such times as these. She phoned them regularly, as they did her, but it wasn’t the same. Somehow, over the years, suggested dates for her and Iain to visit them had just never seemed to work out.

Admit it, Maggie - if you want to go and see them you’ll have to go by yourself.

Jean was avid for news as so many villagers had been asking if she knew anything. They none of them knew Iain well, but were very aware of how it was affecting Maggie’s life. They’d also seen the tabloid coverage of the accident and knew how much that must have hurt her.

Maggie told her all the details, with the request she pass on the information to anyone else in the village who was interested.

“And how’s little Harry doing?” she asked in return. “He’s nearly two months old now isn’t he?”

Jean’s homely face lit up with love for her family. “How that time has flown! Every day he seems bigger and more responsive – you can definitely see the changes in him.”

“Tell me about it.” Maggie laughed ruefully. “It seems to be developing into a year of major changes in all our lives, not all of them as welcome as little Harry.”

“Do let us know if there’s anything we can do to help, won’t you?”

“Jean, I think you have quite enough to cope with, but thank you so much for the offer. I really appreciate it.” She gently squeezed Jean’s arm. Jean flushed with pleasure and, momentarily flustered, turned her attention back to the shelf she was tidying. Maggie changed the subject. “Are you still going over every evening?”

Jean looked over her shoulder at Maggie and her hand dropped to smooth her apron. “No, thankfully Harry’s got over that awful colic so he’s sleeping a lot better now. Jenny’s given up on the breastfeeding, and he’s taking a full bottle regularly, so they’ve both got a bit of a routine sorted out now.”

“Oh, it’s such a shame, I used to love feeding my two, but if it’s settled them both down then it’s probably for the best.”

Jean grinned. “It also means I can have him to stay, just to give Jenny a weekend’s peace to catch up on some sleep you understand.”

“Enjoy it! Can I come in for a cuddle?”

“You’re welcome any time, Maggie.”

“I’ll bring you in some lavender oil I made. A little drop on his pillow will help him sleep - well, like a baby.”

“I might try some of that myself.”

That evening, when Maggie got to the ward, Iain was awake and propped up on his pillows. She kissed his cheek and put the bottle of lemon barley squash she’d bought in the post office on his locker.

“So, you’ve finally decided to rejoin us. It’s good to see you awake. How do you feel?”

“Sort of disconnected,” Iain said gruffly. “It’s hard trying to make sense of your world when there’s a significant chunk missing.”

Did he know about Natasha’s fate? “Er, how much can you remember? Have the nurses told you much yet?”

“I can’t remember a thing about the accident or a short period, about a day, before it.” He watched her closely, his face expressionless, while he weighed up his next words. “Which made my statement to the police rather brief.”

“The police?” Maggie sat abruptly, her hand to her mouth. This was one of the possibilities that had been worrying her since the accident.

“Was it you who told them I was conscious again?”

“No! Why would I do that? Why would you even think that?”

“Revenge, perhaps? No doubt you know by now who Natasha was?” His face was closed and unreadable to her. He took no pity on her as her face blanched. “Apparently I could get as much as fourteen years under the Road Traffic Act of 1991 for ‘Causing death by careless driving when under the influence of drink or drugs’.”

Maggie felt her heart hammering in her chest and fought for breath. After losing him to lovers and then to a coma was she really going to lose him now to a custodial sentence?

“Surely they won’t pursue that? She was over the limit too, and she was the one who didn’t put her seat belt on.”

“But I was the one who got behind the wheel, hence my need to retain a good solicitor. He will call here next week. If the charge is pursued it will go to Crown Court and I’ll need a barrister.”

The tears slid unnoticed down her cheeks. “Why did you do it, Iain?”

“Do what? Take a lover, or drive over the limit?” He gestured pushing her away with his hand. “Go home, Margaret. I’m tired. I don’t want to talk any more.”

He turned on his side away from her, wincing and cursing as he struggled with the knee brace.

“Iain?”

He didn’t reply. Numbly she picked up her bag and left the ward, glad that she had an excuse not to return on Friday.

When James, Keela and Chloe joined her on Friday evening after their hospital visit she had her emotions under control again.

“You wouldn’t believe how rude he was, Mummy,” Chloe complained. “I was only trying to bring him up to date with what’s happened while he’s been in his coma, and he hardly listened to a word I said.”

“Perhaps that’s because at the moment what’s happened in your life isn’t as important to him as what’s happened in his own,” James commented drily.

“He was probably just very tired,” Keela added, stroking Chloe’s arm in sympathy.

Conversation over the meal was desultory and they didn’t stay long. Chloe was the first to leave as she was going clubbing with her friends. James and Keela also elected to return to their own home, so once again Maggie was by herself.

“I’m so glad I’ve got you, my boy,” she said to Deefor after waving them off. She fondled his ears and he followed her as she did her nightly round locking all the doors.

*

At the duly appointed time Adam turned between imposing gates, the pillars topped with eagles, onto a curved driveway. He pulled up at the kerb outside the entrance of her flat, one of six in a very tastefully converted Victorian mansion. The basement flat had the advantage of more space but restricted light. The ground and first floors each had two apartments, and the attic was a single dwelling.

Chloe had opted for less space but more light, let in through high sash windows, and the advantage of the ground floor French windows opening onto a delightful south facing rear garden. Even with two flats on the ground floor her flat was still very gracious, with well-proportioned rooms and high ceilings. It comprised a very large lounge/diner with an original Adams fireplace, a large en suite bedroom with huge built in wardrobes and cupboards, a modern kitchen, and a powder room with extra storage space.

Iain had found the house and was responsible for the conversion. He hadn’t told Chloe the true cost of the flats, knowing that the reduced price he charged her would still stretch her resources at that early stage of her career. He knew that it was an excellent investment for her, and wanted to encourage a feeling of pride and self-sufficiency, to feel she was making her own way in the world.

Adam had visited here with James on several occasions. He followed the normal route for friends, rather than using the entry system at the main entrance, grateful for the movement sensitive lights as he made his way to the rear of the building. Chloe hadn’t pulled the drapes and he saw her slumped in an armchair, her head thrown back and eyes closed. He tapped on the window and she started up, looking confused for a moment. Seeing who it was she gestured him in without rising from the chair.

“Hi, Chloe,” he said. “Not a good idea, I wouldn’t have thought, leaving this door unlocked after dark.”

She frowned. “Please, don’t start lecturing me! It won’t be dark for hours yet,” she snapped at him. “I’ve had just about all I can take this week without you starting in on me as well.”

“Whoah!” he pleaded both hands up. “I’m only concerned for your safety.” He sat on the arm of her chair and gathered her towards him. “Come on, tell Gramps all about it.”

That raised a watery smile from her. As they had shared a lack of near relations living close to them she, James and Adam had, from their earliest days, taken turns playing ‘Gramps’, the safe confidant of childish woes, solemnly sworn to secrecy no matter what was said.

She nestled her head against his side within the safe curve of his arm. “It’s been absolutely beastly all week and I even had to go in today. I only got home half an hour ago.”

Adam put his finger under her chin and tilted her face up for inspection. “Mmmm… I suppose that would account for the creased suit, smudged mascara and lack of lipstick. Or is that the accepted standard for wherever you’ve picked for us to go tonight?”

She pretended to punch his leg then pulled over a cushion to cuddle into.

“Want to tell me what’s really bothering you?” he prompted her. “I know you. You’re used to stress and late finishes at work, ergo there must be something else too. Is it your Dad you’re worried about?”