Chapter 19
19
There’s plenty of time to think about my actions while I’m sitting on a cold hard plastic chair in a waiting room of the Royal Victoria Hospital. I think about the man from the car with blood dripping down his face, who is currently somewhere in this building having his injuries checked over by doctors.
I think about running away from Matt, who I haven’t spoken to since. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him, so for now, I’m saying nothing and feeling terrible about it.
But mostly, I’m sitting here offering up prayers to whoever is listening, that the man I drove off the road is going to be okay.
After the ambulance left the scene, blue lights flashing, adrenaline finally galvanised me into action and I got off my bike and pushed it across the road towards the already-dispersing crowd. I was amazed my wobbly legs could carry me.
‘Excuse me?’ I called, and a woman clutching her phone turned, her face a question. ‘Do you have any idea which hospital they’ll be taking him to?’
She looked me up and down. ‘Do you know him, like?’
I shook my head. ‘No. I just… I want to make sure he’s all right.’
She stared at me a moment longer, then shrugged. ‘Dunno. Probably the RVI though. It’s the main one.’
‘Thank you.’
The events of the last few minutes had sobered me up, so I swung my leg back over my saddle and pedalled all the way here, checking the way on Google Maps every now and then.
Once I’d dumped my bike in the car park, I hurried towards the entrance and made my way straight to reception.
It turns out, though, that finding someone in a hospital when you don’t know their name is quite tricky, and the woman on reception looked particularly unimpressed at my description of a dark-haired man in a blood-spattered white shirt.
‘I’m sorry, without a name I’m afraid I can’t help you,’ she repeated with a withering look. ‘But if he’s been brought in by ambulance he’ll probably still be in A&E.’
‘Thank you.’
So that’s where I am right now, waiting and hoping to catch a glimpse of him so I can tell him I’m sorry and make sure he’s all right.
The waiting room is packed and a sign behind the receptionist says the estimated waiting time is five hours. People around me are in varying stages of boredom and pain, scrolling through phones, chatting, pacing up and down. A woman opposite has a young girl on her lap with her arm in a makeshift sling and she throws me a sympathetic smile. I smile back, then look away, feeling like a fraud.
Every time a trolley is wheeled past I glance up, hoping to see him. But so far, no luck.
I don’t know how much time passes, but finally, a door opens and a bed is pushed through, and somehow, even from the briefest glance at the top of his head, I know this is him – the man I could have killed. As he’s wheeled past me I see that his head is half-wrapped in a bandage and he has stitches in his chin. His left arm is in a sling and that’s just the parts of him I can see. Guilt washes over me. I did this. I’m an absolute menace on a bike.
The porter heads for the lift and I stand, my legs stiff from sitting for so long, and follow them. I’m sure the man won’t recognise me, but I keep my head down and my eyes averted just in case. I’m not really sure what I’m hoping to achieve by following him – I just really need to make sure he’s okay.
We travel up to level five where we all pile out, and I follow them towards the ward. If he’s not going to Intensive Care, this is a good sign, right? He’s wheeled through the double doors and disappears, and I stop, unsure what to do next. Surely I can’t just walk in and march up to his bed?
I hover uncertainly for a moment, then decide to risk it. I wait for someone to leave, then grab the door before it closes and slip inside. The area round the nursing station is still busy, even at this time of night. A nurse approaches me and my heart sinks.
‘Hi, can I help?’ she says. Her eyes are ringed with grey and I wonder how long she’s been on duty.
‘I’ve just come to see… my friend.’ My face flushes and I’m sure she can see right through me.
‘What’s their name please?’
‘He’s… he’s just come in. Just now.’
She frowns at me, then shakes her head. ‘Sorry, visiting hours are from eight until midday, and then five until eight. You’ll have to come back in the morning.’
‘But—’
‘Sorry, madam.’ She turns away and I’m left with no choice but to slink back out through the doors into the corridor. I glance at my phone. It’s just after 10p.m. I should really go home and try to get some sleep. Even better, I should probably try to forget about this entire thing and just leave the poor man to it. He’s in good hands now, I’m certain he’ll be fine.
But the guilt is gnawing away at me, and I need confirmation that he’s going to be all right before I can put it out of my mind and move on. What if he takes a turn for the worse or is taken to another ward during the night and I can’t find him tomorrow? I have no idea what his name is, so I can hardly go and ask where he is.
There’s no choice. I’ll have to stay put until the morning.
I glance round. Chairs are lined up along one wall to the right. They’re hard plastic and look really uncomfortable – but if I move away from this door, I could miss him if he does get moved.
I settle down and pull out my phone. The battery is only at twenty-five per cent.
There’s nothing from Matt and I swallow down my disappointment.
I switch my phone off, and try to get some rest.
* * *
After what was probably the most uncomfortable, sleep-deprived night of my life, morning finally arrives and with it, the sounds of the hospital re-awakening. Footsteps squeal along the corridor, trolleys rumble, people mumble, punctuated by the occasional shout. It takes me a moment to remember why I’m here, and when I do I’m suddenly wide awake and bolt upright.
I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s 7.35a.m. I can go inside the ward soon and see if I can find him. I hope he wasn’t moved in the night and I missed it. But there’s nothing I can do about it, so I just need to stick to the plan.
My neck is stiff down one side where I must have dozed off in a strange position, and my back is killing me. I stand and stretch, then head along the corridor in search of a loo and a coffee machine. I’m back a couple of minutes after eight, with a cup of coffee that tastes even worse than Sophie’s burnt tar, hovering outside the ward. I wait for someone to leave, then slip through the doors and stride towards the nurse’s station again. The nurse from last night isn’t there any more – in fact I’m relieved to see there’s currently nobody on duty at all so at least I don’t have to try and explain why I don’t know the name of the man I’m supposedly visiting. Before someone returns I hurry past and head along the corridor. Each ward is sectioned off into rooms containing six beds, which means I’m going to have to walk into each one and pretend to have made a mistake until I find the right one. My acting skills aren’t up to much but I’m not sure how else to do this, so I take a deep breath and enter the first room.
Five of the beds in here have people in them. One of the occupants, an older lady with wispy white hair, has a man around the same age as her sitting beside her bed clutching her hand. They’re whispering to each other and both glance up and smile as I enter. I smile back, then quickly check out the other beds. There’s no one who looks like the man from the accident in here.
‘Sorry, wrong room,’ I say, backing out.
I do the same in the next two rooms. I’m starting to feel guilty, like I’m spying on sick people, and I hope none of the nurses or doctors have clocked what I’m doing. I can only hope they’re too busy to notice someone lurking around looking suspicious.
The next door is the last one on this side of the ward. If he’s not in here I’ll have to go back past the nurse’s station again to cross to the opposite side, a prospect I’m not relishing. I smooth my hair down, take a deep breath, and step inside.
Oh my God.
It’s him.
My belly feels like it’s dropped to my feet and my head is stuffed with cotton wool as I stand frozen inside the doorway.
‘You okay pet?’ A reedy voice from beside me brings me back to myself and I turn to find an enormously overweight man watching me from his bed by the door.
‘Oh, yes, sorry. I just…’ I point vaguely over to the window, and he glances over.
‘Aye, it’s always hard seeing loved ones in places like this, isn’t it?’ He looks back at me with concern. ‘He’s been asleep for hours, lucky sod. Wish I could sleep in this place.’
‘Yes,’ I say, weakly.
‘Still, he’ll be glad to have his better half visiting him, I’m sure.’
‘Oh I’m not—’ I start, but then clamp my mouth shut and turn back to the window. No need to explain. I approach the bedside and look down. The man’s eyes are closed, and his head is still half-wrapped in a bandage. His chin is badly bruised and swollen as though it took the brunt of the impact, and I notice his neck is in a brace too. His arm is still in a sling but it’s hanging loosely on his chest, and his mouth is slightly open. I watch him for a moment, contemplating what I’ll say if he opens his eyes and notices me.
I glance round, wondering whether there’s anyone I can speak to. If someone can just reassure me that he’s going to be okay, then I can go and no one will ever know I was here. But would they just tell any random stranger off the street? Surely there must be some sort of privacy rules in place.
There’s a chair beside his bed so I perch on it, my rucksack clutched to my chest. I’m suddenly aware that I mustn’t smell too fresh – I haven’t showered since yesterday and my mouth feels furry and slightly bitter. Not much I can do about it now though.
I sit for a while, trying to decide what to do. Apart from the cuts and bruises, he looks okay. At least, he doesn’t look as though he’s about to kark it at any moment.
What will I say if someone comes to visit him and asks who I am? I should probably just go and assume everything is fine.
I stand. Yes, I should definitely just leave this poor man to get on with his life. There’s no reason for me to be here at all, I’m being ridiculous, I?—
‘Who are you?’
I stop and turn slowly back to face the bed. The man is watching me through half-closed eyes and I attempt a smile.
‘Hi,’ I say.
He doesn’t reply but peers down at his body as though noticing it for the first time. He winces as he tries to sit up, and flops back down to the pillow again.
‘Do I know you?’
‘I—’ I croak. ‘Not really, no.’
‘Right.’ He looks round at the other beds then back at me. ‘So, why are you here?’
I shuffle from one foot to the other. I have no idea how to explain my presence at his bedside. I can hardly tell him I’m the reason he’s in here. Why didn’t I think this through properly?
‘Are you some sort of weirdo who likes to watch people sleeping?’
‘What? No!’
He attempts a half-smile and winces again. ‘Christ, everything hurts.’ He tries to sit up once more, holding his bandaged arm. Finally, he seems more comfortable and turns his gaze back to me.
‘So, seriously, are you going to tell me who you are?’
He’s not being unkind, but I feel my face burn and look down at my feet as though they’re the most interesting thing in the world. ‘I…’ I start, then look up to find him watching me, that half-smile still on his face. I clear my throat. ‘Sorry, you’re going to think this is really weird, but I was there, when… you know.’ I wave my hand vaguely up and down his body.
‘You were there when some idiot on a bike pulled out in front of me and made me crash my car?’
Oh shit, he does remember it. ‘Er, yes.’
‘Right.’ He closes his eyes briefly, then fixes me with a gaze again. ‘But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. Standing next to my bed.’ His voice is a bit louder now and something about it tugs at my memory.
‘No I guess not.’ I clear my throat. ‘I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay. It was a pretty bad accident.’
He watches me for a few moments, and I feel as though he can read my mind. Then he gives a nod, winces again, and says, ‘Well, that’s very kind of you, thank you.’ He peers down at the sheets covering his torso and legs and shakes his head. ‘As you can see, I’m very much still alive. A bit battered and bruised but I guess it could have been a lot worse.’
‘Yes, well, good. That’s great.’ I hitch my rucksack further up my shoulder. I’ve seen he’s okay now, I should probably just get out of there before he realises it was actually me who made him crash.
‘You’ll probably be the only visitor I get anyway so I guess I should be even more grateful.’
‘Oh?’
He lets out a puff of air and stares up at the ceiling. ‘I’m not exactly popular at the moment. Divorced, parents not speaking to me, kids barely want to know me.’ He tries to shrug but it clearly hurts so he stops midway. ‘To be honest I’d be surprised if anyone apart from my boss notices I’m even in here. So thank you.’
‘You’re… you’re welcome.’
I feel sorry for him but now I know he’s going to be fine, I need to get out of here. I turn to leave.
‘Will you stay? Just for a bit?’
I stop and when I swivel back to face him he’s looking at me with pleading eyes.
‘I—’ I start. I was about to give him a string of reasons why I have to go, why I need to be somewhere else. But actually, apart from bed for some sleep, I don’t really need to be anywhere at all. I try not to think about Matt, or the look on his face as I ran away from him last night, and instead I smile at this stranger in the bed, and nod.
‘Sure, if you like.’ I step back towards the chair and sit down, tucking my rucksack beneath my legs, and he smiles and holds out his uninjured hand.
‘Thank you. I’m Jay, by the way.’