Chapter Thirteen
Maya
The wailing and crying echoing off the white walls made Maya shiver. She hated hospitals; she assumed most people did. The bleach and disinfectant mirrored the stench of death.
She glanced up as a porter shuffled past, too busy to make eye contact with a stranger. Who knew what horrendous things she’d witnessed or heard between these walls? Maya couldn’t understand how people could bear to face it every day.
Grandma stirred beside her, cramped up with her head resting against a water dispenser. Maya had told her to go home and get a proper rest, that she’d call her as soon as there was any news about Grandpa’s suspected second stroke, but she’d refused. Maya understood that. Grandma’s stubbornness ran through her own veins, but her tiny body curled up in the chair looked so fragile. Her bones were more prominent, poking through her pale skin under the bright hospital lights.
It terrified her. Just how human they all were. How easily they could fall apart.
A worried man with a topknot hurried past, muttering under his breath. His wild brown eyes scanned his surroundings, trying to take in the many signs, as he held a baby to his chest. The baby cried, and he rocked the bundle. Maya wished she could help him, ask what he was looking for. But before she could muster the words, he’d disappeared through another set of double doors.
She wouldn’t have been much help, anyway.
She turned to Grandma again, relieved to see the baby’s cries hadn’t woken her. Goosebumps rippled across her wrinkled skin, and she’d tightened one arm around herself in sleep.
Maya readjusted her tracksuit top, which she’d used to cover her with, then searched the waiting room for something else to keep her warm. Aside from making a blanket out of old magazines or paper towels, there was nothing.
The reception might have something .
But when she approached the desk, there was no one there, just a stack of papers and a phone that repeatedly flashed, with nobody to answer it. She worried she and her grandma had been forgotten, destined to be left waiting in some corridor between Accident & Emergency and god knows where for eternity. The signs didn’t help. “Waiting Room.” For what? For where?
Grandpa had been sent for scans hours ago, the lone clock ticking away on the back wall informed her. So where was the nurse who’d said she’d update them as soon as she could?
Maya sighed.
Grandpa hated hospitals too. He’d told her that when she’d sliced her hand open on Carly’s mum’s plant pot years ago, playing football in their garden. Maya didn’t need stitches—luckily they could just glue it—but she remembered the panic on her grandparents’ faces as they ran through the automatic doors. Grandpa’s flat cap had rested at an odd angle on his head, his kind eyes worried, with wrinkles at the edges. He’d spotted her nursing a bandaged palm, in a corner with the Walters, and tugged Grandma over by her hand.
“How ya feeling, kid?” he’d asked, a little out of breath.
Mr Walters had stood, placing a comforting arm on Grandpa’s. “She’ll be fine, George. I told you there was no need to worry.”
“They glued my skin back together.” Maya waved her bandaged hand for them to see. “And they gave me some painkillers.”
Grandma dropped to a crouch, brushing the hair from her face that had sprung wildly from her ponytail. “I told you to be careful, Maya.”
“I was! And it was a good goal, too.”
Grandma shook her head and straightened up.
A grin broke across Grandpa’s face. “Sounds like a great shot, kid.”
Grandma nudged him. “You two are as bad as each other.” They’d shared a laugh around the group, and then the adults disappeared to get hot coffees from the vending machine.
Carly shuffled closer to her. “I’m so glad they fixed you,” she’d whispered, even though the adults were out of earshot. “I was scared they were gonna have to chop your hand off.”
Maya ran her fingers over the bandage and laughed, but Carly didn’t join in.
“I’m serious, there was so much blood.”
“I’m fine now though, look.” She’d held up her bandaged hand, and Carly traced over the dressing with her finger. Electricity trailed where she touched, and Maya looked at her, insides squeezing at the concern swirling in her friend’s eyes. All these tingly feelings were new to her, but she knew something was special between them. “You don’t need to worry…” Maya gave her most convincing smile. She hated it when Carly was sad. “I’m sure we can still play tomorrow.”
Carly giggled in that way that made Maya’s heart triple in size. Making her laugh was her favourite.
“It’s annoying,” Carly said. “Even if they did chop your hand off, you’d still beat me.” She’d squeezed her hand, and any remaining discomfort had fizzled away.
Mum had been working that day, too.
A short white woman wearing blue scrubs appeared in the waiting room, pulling Maya back into the present.
“Excuse me,” Maya started. “Do you have any news about Mr George Thomas? He came in with a suspected stroke, but we haven’t heard anything.”
The woman flashed a practised smile of perfect teeth. “I’m sorry, love. It’s not my department. Someone will be along to keep you updated when they have news for you.” She combed the waiting room with her eyes, checked the watch hanging from her pocket, and turned to leave.
“Wait! I’m sorry, but…do you have anything I can cover my grandma with? A blanket or anything?” Maya motioned over her shoulder, and the woman’s gaze followed. “She’s shivering, and I can’t find anyone to ask. Please. I don’t know how long we’ll be here.”
The woman’s eyes softened as she took in Maya’s appearance for the first time. Maya was still wearing her Millton University T-shirt, and god knows what state her hair was in. The woman let out a small sigh and smiled, taking pity on her. “Alright, love. I’ll see what I can do.”
She never came back.
* * *
Just as the sun was beginning to rise, casting warm orange sunlight through her window, Maya pulled the curtains across and crawled into bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so exhausted. She lay there for a little while, listening to the sounds of the Hamptons waking up next door—Mrs Hampton’s hairdryer, then the kids’ excited squeals as they bounded up and down the hall. The sounds were faint through the walls, but amplified by the silence in their house.
Maya’s body told her to sleep, but her mind was in overdrive.
Grandpa had suffered an intracerebral haemorrhage, and due to the fact he was already on blood thinners, a substantial amount of blood had leaked into his brain tissue. He’d had a seizure too, but the doctor assured them this was fairly common, and didn’t mean he would develop epilepsy.
Maya didn’t know how to respond to that. As if there was anything remotely normal about any of this.
The hospital was keeping him in overnight. Then, depending on his responses, he’d be monitored further or else released to a rehabilitation centre near their house. The nurse said they could discuss more tomorrow when Grandpa had recovered a little.
Grandma and Maya were going to head back in a few hours. She needed to sleep, but the doctor’s words and her grandma’s tear-stained face continued to spin around her brain. Seeing her cry was the worst, and Maya couldn’t do anything about it.
Realising her phone was still off, she switched it back on, the bright light making her close her eyes. It vibrated to life, followed by the ping of several messages.
Mum: I’m driving back now, sweetie
I’ll be there in the morning
Jamie: I saw the ambulance outside
Are you okay?
She clicked on Jamie’s message. Before she’d even thought about whether to reply, her fingers were flying across the screen.
Maya: It’s Grandpa
He had another stroke
To her surprise, Jamie replied straight away.
Jamie: God Maya, I’m so sorry
Can I do anything?
Maya: I don’t think so
Jamie: Where are you?
Maya: At home. Going back to the hospital in the morning
Jamie: Do you need a lift? I can take you if that helps
Maya’s head ached. She closed her eyes, rubbing circles against her forehead. Too much had happened today. She didn’t know if she could handle seeing Jamie now. She needed to focus on Grandpa.
Maya: I think Mum will be home by then
But thank you
I’m gonna try and sleep now
But I appreciate the offer
She put down her phone and rolled over. A streak of light escaped from under the curtains, highlighting Jamie’s black jumper, which was folded beside her bed. She still had it from when Jamie had driven her home that time after training, when she’d been caught in the rain. She didn’t know why she hadn’t given it back yet.
She reached down and plucked it up, bringing it close to her chest. It didn’t really smell like Jamie now, only faintly of her spiced aftershave and the rain. She breathed it in, feeling her presence. Then she tucked the jumper under her chin and wrapped the duvet around her, indulging herself for just a few moments.
Before Maya knew it, she was jolted awake, the room brighter than before.
Her mum’s soft voice sounded in her ears. “Time to go, love. There’s been some news about Grandpa.”