The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

Chapter 44

FORTY-FOUR

Shayne drives quickly on the icy roads, and under other circumstances I would ask him to slow down. We’re parked at the hospital and walking towards the main doors within minutes. The electric doors part upon detecting us and we walk through. I walked out these same doors just hours ago convinced my life was all but over. Now, as I walk back in, I am reminded that life is precious and you must fight for it. I will Malcolm to fight. Fight just a little longer.

Shayne guides us up the stairs and towards a ward I’ve cleaned many times. It’s all so familiar, and yet in this moment, with my brain drowning in a sea of emotion, it’s as if I am arriving at StHelen’s for the first time ever.

Malcolm’s bed is nearest the window. A sky-blue blanket is wrapped round him and his face is as white as the ceiling above him as he lies with his eyes closed. I clutch my chest, startled by how frail he appears.

‘Malco,’ Ellie squeals with delight as she races towards his bed.

‘Carefully, Ellie,’ I call out. ‘Be gentle.’

She slows and takes her time as she approaches him. I watch her take his hand and his eyes flicker.

‘He knows you’re here,’ Shayne says.

‘Would you like to hear a story, Malco?’ Ellie asks.

Malcolm’s eyes flicker once more and his head bobs ever so slowly up and down.

Ellie uses the bedside chair as a step and climbs onto the high hospital bed. She tucks her hip next to his and begins.

‘Once upon a time…’

Shayne’s fingers slip between mine and I squeeze back as we watch a four-year-old tell her favourite story to her favourite person.

‘Your mam,’ I whisper, thinking of Elaine at last.

Shayne shakes his head.

‘Does she know he’s here?’

Shayne nods.

‘But she hasn’t come in?’

‘I don’t think she can bring herself,’ Shayne says.

‘She’s working tonight,’ I tell him. ‘She’s here somewhere.’

Shayne shakes his head again. ‘It’s too late, Bea. There’s too much water under the bridge for them.’

I watch Malcolm’s laboured breathing as he listens to Ellie’s story with a subtle smile.

‘I’ll be back,’ I say. ‘You okay to watch her?’ I tilt my head towards the bed.

‘Sure,’ he says. He’s about to say something else, probably to tell me how hopeless it is, or to give up, but I turn on my heel and hurry away.

I find Elaine on the women’s ward. She’s found the empty bottle of prosecco beside MrsBrennan’s bed. Her face falls somewhere between a disapproving eye-roll and a pleased smirk.

‘Good for you, MrsB,’ I hear her whisper.

She tucks the empty bottle under her arm but almost drops it when she turns and sees me.

‘Bea. You’re back.’

She adjusts the bottle, tucking it firmer.

‘Is everything okay? Where’s Ellie?’

‘She’s here,’ I say.

Elaine tries to squash a groan but it comes out anyway. She glances at her watch and shakes her head. ‘It’s late. They lock the door at the shelter by ten. You can’t just waltz in and out as you please, I’m afraid there are strict rules about that sort of thing.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I’m not going back.’

‘Oh, Bea, for goodness’ sake,’ Elaine huffs, dragging her hand across her forehead. ‘Have you any idea of the strings I had to pull to get you in there in the first place and now?—’

‘I know,’ I cut in. ‘But it’s not somewhere Ellie and I feel safe.’

Elaine rolls her eyes. ‘Oh really. It is quite literally a safe house, Bea. Or would you rather a small child continue to sleep next to a mop and some bleach indefinitely? Because let me tell you here and now, that cannot and will not happen.’

‘We’re going to stay with Shayne and Malcolm,’ I say.

The colour drains from Elaine’s face.

‘Ellie is with them now.’

She raises her hand and closes her eyes as if it pains her to hear another word. But I can’t stop. Not when Malcolm has so little time.

‘He’s here,’ I say, tentatively. ‘Malcolm. He’s a patient.’

I wonder if I should help her to sit down. She looks as if she needs to.

‘Do you want to see him?’

Elaine sways, and I cup her elbow and lead her to sit in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs.

‘Are you okay?’ I ask, taking the bottle from under her arm and setting it back on the bedside locker where it started out. ‘Do you need some water or something?’

She shakes her head.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a shock.’

‘I know he’s here, Bea.’ She sighs. ‘órlaith told me.’

‘Oh.’

‘So, you can go now.’

I swallow disappointment. But before I walk away I say, ‘Room 218, if you change your mi?—,’

‘Bea. Go!’ Elaine snaps, pointing a ridged finger towards the door.

I sigh, bow my head and walk away. On the corridor, bright fluorescent lights hit me. One of the lights is wonky. The bulb flickers sporadically and it makes a buzzing sound as I pass under. I freeze on the spot and listen to the hum. Like a bee in summer working hard to collect nectar from a sunflower. My mind races. A busy bee. Malcolm’s nickname for me. The bench in the car park where he sat alone for hours. Snowflakes melting on his bare head as he waited for the courage to step inside. Wellington boots and hand-knit scarves. A chequered coat and a petrol-station Christmas card. Disney movies. Tennis rackets in flower pots and kite-flying. Malcolm may only have been in my life a matter of weeks, but already my head is full of memories and my heart is full of love. I can only imagine what my life would have been like with a grandad like him caring for me.

I turn quickly and my heels make a squeaking sound against the floor that I polished yesterday and I march back towards Elaine.

Her face is in her hands when I find her. She doesn’t look up when she sees me, although I know she’s aware I’m here.

‘Do you know why I spent the last two weeks locked away in a closet?’ I say.

She still doesn’t look up.

‘Because I had nowhere else to go. I don’t have a family. I don’t have anyone who loves me. There is no one to care if I sleep in a closet, or on the street, or even if I sleep at all. Do you know what I would give to have someone love me the way your father loves you?’

Elaine lowers her hands and when her eyes meet mine I can see they are teary.

‘You have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she says.

‘I know he waited outside in the snow for a chance to bump into you.’

Surprise flashes in her eyes.

‘And not just once. He sat out there day after day. He was desperate to fix things. And I don’t know what’s broken between you. It’s none of my business. But he’s your father and, whatever it is, don’t you want to talk it out?’

Elaine sighs. ‘We can’t talk it out.’

‘Sure you can. And with Shayne’s help?—’

‘Bea!’ She cuts me off. ‘We can’t. I don’t remember what it is.’

‘Oh.’

‘Lots of little things. After my mam died, we sort of sparked off each other. One thing after another. One harsh word after another, until one day he said he wished I’d died instead.’

I gasp.

‘So, you see…’ She shakes her head. ‘Not talking is easier than talking, if all you ever say upsets each other.’

‘He couldn’t have meant what he said.’

Elaine makes a face. ‘He missed my mam. And I was hard work. Always so opinionated.’

I smile, meekly, knowing who she inherited that trait from.

‘He’s sorry,’ I tell her. ‘He’s heartbroken. I think he has been for years.’

‘No!’ she says with a loud sigh that seems to let all the air out of her and shrink her, and I can tell she is heartbroken too.

‘I’d give anything to have a family. And you’re throwing yours away,’ I say, and once again I turn and walk away.