CHAPTER SEVEN
‘Okay, Dad. Guess what?’ I leaned over the bed and squeezed his hand gently.
The hospital ward smelled vaguely of bleach and medical supplies.
Knowing he wouldn’t guess, I rushed on. ‘So you’ve been telling me for ages that I shouldn’t let Loathsome Les stop me finding love. Well... pause for triumphant-sounding fanfare. . . I’ve actually got a date !
‘Yes, I know.’ I paused for barely a second to let the surprise sink in. ‘I knew you’d be amazed. Let’s face it, the last time I went out on a date, everyone was going crazy for peplums and skinny jeans. Well, maybe it wasn’t that long ago. I might be exaggerating a little bit.’
I was gabbling on but Dad wouldn’t mind.
‘The thing is, I still haven’t got a clue what on earth I’m going to wear for it.
‘Because as you know, my wardrobe for the past year has consisted mainly of comfy clothes and flat shoes. Largely because I hardly ever venture out and prefer to spend my evenings in front of the box with you, plotting how to get my revenge on Les. That’s a joke, by the way.
The revenge, I mean. I’m really not that sad. ’
I paused for a millisecond to take a breath.
‘So anyway, having bored you to tears with my ramblings once again, I’d better go now because I need to do some clothes shopping if I’m going to look halfway decent for my date tomorrow.
We met online, by the way. But don’t worry about my safety, Dad.
(Stupid thing to say, because I know that of course you will!) We’re meeting in the Swan Hotel bar, just for a drink.
So then if we hate each other on sight, we don’t have to plough through an entire meal before we can escape.
’ I chuckled. ‘I know, I know, I should be approaching this with a positive attitude. And I am. I really am. Honestly, Dad.’
I reached over and kissed him on the cheek.
‘I’ll pop back in to see you tomorrow morning, though, so you can wish me luck then,’ I promised him. And with a cheerful wave, I headed for the door.
Out in the corridor, I blundered for the lift.
I’d already dropped my cheery facade.
Our ‘conversations’ were always one-sided – ever since the day, a week ago, that Dad rescued an elderly woman called Minnie from being hit by a speeding van on Sunnybrook High Street.
It had even made the national news: the story of the big jewellery robbery in Surrey that had ended with one bystander in a coma and an elderly woman injured. Two of the robbers had been caught almost immediately and charged. But a third was apparently still on the loose.
The local paper ran a story about the robbery in which they called Dad a hero, which of course he was.
But then, Dad had always been my hero.
I swallowed down the gathering tears. My throat was aching but I’d wait until I was in the hospital toilets with the door firmly locked before I gave in to the terrible panic that was a constant feature of my life these days.
What if Dad didn’t get better?
What if he never woke from the coma?
The only reason I was going on this ridiculous date in the first place was because I was desperately hoping Dad could hear me.
As I’d jabbered away to him at his bedside – day after day, and during some long nights as well – I’d finally realised I needed to give him something to wake up for. It had been a lovely, softly-spoken nurse called Clodagh who’d put the idea in my head.
Maybe she was right, I’d thought. It was Dad’s dearest wish that I should find someone special to spend my life with. ( After I’ve gone was always the unspoken sub-text.)
So if I could persuade Dad that I was planning to move on – to begin dating again and find someone special, just as he wanted me to – perhaps it would give him the fight he needed to regain consciousness.
I knew I was clutching at straws.
It was a pretty forlorn hope.
But as the endless days dragged on, with Dad showing no sign of emerging from his coma, it was the only hope I had to cling to...
*****
I’d spent so much time with Dad, just willing him to wake up – dozing from time to time slumped in the bedside chair – I hardly knew whether it was day or night.
But eventually, Clodagh had persuaded me to go home for some rest and a freshen-up.
‘Sure, you’ll be no use to anyone if you lose your marbles through sleep deprivation,’ she’d remarked, and I’d smiled for the first time in what seemed like forever.
Clodagh had waved me off, reassuring me that if there was any change, they’d be straight on the phone to me.
‘Even if it’s three in the morning?’ I’d asked anxiously.
‘ Especially if it’s three in the morning. Now, get yourself a good sleep and we’ll see you in the morning, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I replied meekly, feeling light-headed with tiredness.
Arriving back home, the house seemed weirdly empty without Dad. But as soon as my head touched the pillow that night, I sank gratefully into sleep, and since then I’d been trying to make sure I got enough rest so I could be on top form for Dad.
*****
I was woken next morning by the sound of the doorbell.
At first, my head was fuzzy with sleep. Then I remembered Dad in hospital and sat up in a panic. Grabbing my phone, I saw it was almost ten-thirty. I must have slept for more than twelve hours!
Another ring of the doorbell propelled me out of bed and into my dressing gown.
Who could be at the door?
For one wild moment, I thought it might be the nice doctor at the hospital to tell me that Dad was awake. But by the time I’d run down the stairs, I was thinking rather more rationally.
Pulling open the door, I blinked in surprise at the woman – a stranger – who was standing there with an anxious smile on her face. She had kind brown eyes and snow-white hair, gently waved, but although she looked vaguely familiar, I couldn’t place where I’d seen her before.
‘Hello, dear,’ she said rather apologetically. ‘I hope you don’t mind me turning up at your door like this, but I’ve only just found out that it was your lovely father who saved my life. I’m Minnie.’
‘Oh.’ I looked at her in surprise. Of course. That’s how I recognised her. The last time I’d seen Minnie she was standing by the side of the road, bewildered and clearly distressed as concerned people gathered around her and Dad, wanting to help. ‘Are you okay now?’
She nodded. ‘I feel fine, and it’s all thanks to your father. Goodness knows what would have happened if he hadn’t pulled me out of the way of that speeding van in the nick of time. I owe him my life. I really do.’ She put her hand on her chest and I saw there were tears in her eyes.
‘I’m so glad you’re okay,’ I said softly, feeling quite emotional thinking back to that day. ‘Come on in, Minnie. I’ll put the kettle on.’ I held the door wide and ushered her in.
‘I’ve been so anxious about your dad, wondering if he was all right,’ she said, following me into the kitchen.
‘I haven’t been able to sleep properly for thinking about him.
Such a brave man. And of course when I phoned the hospital, they wouldn’t give me any information because I’m not family.
So all I know is that he... well, he survived what happened. ’
I nodded. ‘He did, thank goodness. Although he’s been in a coma ever since.’
Minnie gasped in horror and grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself.
‘Sit down, sit down,’ I urged, pulling out another chair for her and guiding her over to it.
She sank down with a little sigh. ‘Thank you, dear. I just feel so guilty about it all. Seeing him being driven away in the ambulance and then not knowing anything after that – not even his name – has been just terrible. As I said, I haven’t been able to sleep for thinking about him.’
‘You must have given your family a terrible shock,’ I murmured, sitting down beside her.
She nodded. Then she gave me a watery smile. ‘Although my grandson, who’s a bit of a joker, said a bump on the head was probably just what I needed to knock some sense into me.’ Drawing a hanky from the sleeve of her cardigan, she dabbed at her eyes. ‘He’s been really worried about me, though.’
‘I bet he has.’ I pressed her hand gently and stood up to put the kettle on. ‘Apologies for not being dressed but I’ve only just woken up.’
‘Oh, no. Did I wake you?’ Minnie looked alarmed.
‘No, it’s fine,’ I said quickly. ‘I think I slept for twelve hours straight, which is quite enough sleep for anyone. In fact, I’m glad you came because I’ll need to get back to the hospital and if you hadn’t rung the bell, I might still have been asleep at lunchtime.’
‘Maybe I should leave you to get ready?’ She made to get up. ‘I really just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for what happened and ask if there’s anything I can do to help.’
‘No, stay, Minnie. Please.’ I touched her shoulder and she sank back down. ‘I need some caffeine before I can even think about getting ready to go back to the hospital.’ I grinned at her. ‘It’s coffee for me. What can I get you?’
‘A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you.’
As I made the drinks, she asked, ‘Are you close to your father?’
I smiled. ‘Very. It’s been just him and me since Mum died five years ago. I... don’t know what I’d do without him.’
Minnie nodded. ‘Same for me. I lost my mother when I was eight, so it was just my father and me when I was growing up.’
‘It must have been hard, losing her when you were so young.’
‘It was. But my father did a great job of bringing me up on his own.’ She gazed into the distance, a wistful expression on her face. Then she smiled at me. ‘Are you close to your father?’
‘Er . . . yes. Yes, I am.’
She gave a sentimental sigh. ‘Fathers and daughters.’
It turned out, as we sat talking, that Minnie was a member of the local Women’s Institute, and she’d finally found out from one of her friends the identity of her rescuer.
The woman, who was called Sylvia, had been running the Little Duck Pond Café years ago when Mum used to pop in for coffee now and again.
Sylvia had known where we lived and had been able to point Minnie in the right direction.
‘I just found out yesterday so I decided to come straight over this morning.’ She took a sip of her tea and I noticed her hand trembled as she placed the cup back in the saucer. ‘I can’t believe he’s in a coma, poor man. And what about you? How are you feeling?’
‘Oh, you know.’ I shrugged miserably. ‘Terrified I’m going to lose him.
Disbelief that it even happened – especially when things were starting to look up for him.
He had a bad back injury that’s meant he hasn’t been able to work for the past six months, but he looked to be on the mend.
’ I shrugged uselessly. ‘I was made redundant recently so I’ve been trying to get another job.
I had a promising interview last week so I was feeling quite positive about the future.
’ I smiled sadly. ‘But now, I’ve no idea what’s going to happen. ’
‘Oh, dear. And it’s all my fault.’
‘Minnie, no. Of course it isn’t your fault.
That horrible man knocked you into the road, so he’s to blame for what happened, not you.
’ I pressed her hand. ‘I’m just really glad you’re okay and I know Dad would be, too.
’ I attempted a smile. ‘I just need him to wake up and then it will all seem like a bad dream.’
She nodded firmly. ‘He will wake up. I’m sure of it.’
‘Me, too. Apart from his back, he’s always been strong and healthy. If anyone can survive this, Dad can.’ I smiled. ‘He’ll be awake and pestering me to start dating again before I know it! His current concern is me finding a boyfriend.’
‘Are you close to your father?’ she asked again.
‘I am.’ I returned her warm smile, my heart going out to this lovely woman who’d been so concerned about dad, she’d been determined to track me down so she could find out how he was doing.
We both cocked our ears as the post came through the letterbox.
And as I went through to collect it – there were two letters lying on the doormat – I wondered if Minnie was perhaps in the early stages of dementia.
I’d had first-hand experience of that cruel condition, having watched my lovely gran going through it, forgetting she’d already asked the same question several times.
Back in the kitchen, I slid open the first envelope as I was talking.
My face fell as I read the letter inside...