Chapter 53
MAYA
Street lights streaked orange past the tinted windows as I sat in the back of the ambulance. I had been in such shock climbing up behind Elliot’s stretcher that I hadn’t noticed Hugo following after me until he sat down beside me glumly holding his head in his hands.
‘How could you?’ I cried.
‘I didn’t mean to; I didn’t know he was going to get in front of me. I’m so sorry.’
‘I told you to stop. I told you to calm down!’ I kept going over the evening’s events. Was this my fault? I was the one who had invited the O’Dowds over. I could have prevented this. If I hadn’t sprung it on Hugo then this never would have happened.
‘I’m so sorry, you have to believe me,’ he pleaded. ‘I didn’t mean for this to happen.’ He moved to put his arm around me but I brushed it off.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the paramedic eyeing us warily.
He already suspected that Elliot’s injuries weren’t the result of an accident like Hugo claimed.
As they had been lifting him onto a stretcher in the house, one of them had asked us what had happened.
I had been too stunned to speak and Liv and Jay had looked wretched so Hugo had spoken for all of us and said that he had fallen.
No, he didn’t, I wanted to scream. You did this to him – you!
When we arrived at the hospital, the ambulance doors were flung open and Elliot’s stretcher was rushed to Resus, leaving me and Hugo running in its wake, trying to keep up.
We were met by a kindly nurse who had shown us into a waiting room and brought us a mug of tea and, even though neither of us drank it, we took it gratefully.
She told us that somebody would update us on his condition soon before going on her way.
We sat there waiting as harsh strip lighting flickered overhead.
Every now and then, Hugo would get up and start pacing.
Then he would sit down again and try talking to me but I didn’t answer him.
What on earth could we possibly say to one another in light of everything that had happened tonight?
I had a vague sense somewhere on the periphery of all that was going on that this was a watershed moment in my life; I couldn’t let my head process it yet, but nonetheless, I knew that after tonight, things would never be the same again.
As the seconds dragged past like hours, I began to grow frustrated and stood up. How long had we been waiting in this three-metre-square room? Hugo did the same and stood alongside me like a shadow. Everything about him irritated me. His proximity, his breathing.
‘When are they going to tell us what is happening?’ he cried.
I clenched my eyes shut and didn’t reply.
Finally, a doctor in scrubs entered the room and my heartbeat started to ratchet up.
‘Mr and Mrs Laurence?’ he asked as we both turned to greet him, keen for news of our son’s condition. ‘I’m Doctor Sweeney, I’m—’
‘Please, just tell us how he is,’ Hugo rushed in wishing to skip the introductions.
‘I’m afraid your son is in a serious condition. He has sustained a major brain trauma. There is swelling on his brain and we’ve had to put him in an induced coma to try and alleviate the pressure on it and allow it to rest and recover.’
‘Oh God,’ I gasped, cupping my hands over my mouth and feeling as though I was sinking through the floor. ‘Will he be okay? Please just tell me he’s going to be all right,’ I pleaded.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t make any promises. There are no guarantees in situations like these, unfortunately, but I can assure you that we’re doing all we can.
’ He paused. ‘You need to be aware that even if he pulls through, we won’t know the full extent of his injuries and any lasting effects until he wakes up. ’
I pinched my eyes shut as if trying to block out his words. I couldn’t bear to listen to what he was telling me.
‘I was wondering if either of you can tell me a little bit about what happened to him tonight?’
I froze, knowing if I told the truth, it could have serious repercussions for Hugo. I looked at my husband and he looked back at me; there was an unmistakeable warning in his eyes.
‘The paramedics said he had a fall; is that true?’ he pressed.
I nodded, hating myself.
‘And can you tell me how exactly he fell?’
‘He was in bed asleep but he woke up and came downstairs. We think he must have slipped…’ Hugo spoke. ‘We found him on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.’
How did he do it? I marvelled. How did he lie so easily? About something as serious as this?
Dr Sweeney narrowed his brows and nodded thoughtfully. ‘It’s just the injuries your son has aren’t consistent with a fall.’
‘Wh-what do you mean?’ Hugo choked, his face turning ashen.
‘It is the front and side of your son’s face that have been injured. Normally, when we see children who slip down the stairs, it’s the posterior of their heads that are damaged.’
‘But not always, surely,’ Hugo challenged.
‘Sometimes, we might see bruises or scratches along their back or carpet burn on their legs but Elliot doesn’t have any marks like this,’ he continued, unfazed by Hugo.
‘We don’t have carpet,’ Hugo said weakly. ‘It’s a wooden staircase; it can be slippery.’
‘Nonetheless, all his injuries are at the front of his body,’ the doctor remarked, leaving the comment dangling between us.
‘Well, he fell forward, face first…’ Hugo stuttered, ‘so t-that’s why the front of his face is damaged.’
‘And did you witness this happening?’
Hugo shot a sideways glance at me and I squeezed my eyes tightly to stop the tears from falling. I hated myself for not speaking up. Hated myself for what I was doing to my son.
‘No,’ he admitted, stubbing his toe against the rubber flooring.
The doctor pursed his lips together. ‘Okay, then… I can take you to him if you’d like to see him?’
‘Please,’ I choked, overcome by tears once more. I felt numb. I couldn’t believe that we were here. That we – my perfect family, or so I had once thought – were in this situation.
We followed him down a corridor. So many right and left turns that I lost my bearings and then suddenly, we were in the intensive care unit and there was my baby looking impossibly small on this large hospital bed.
He was surrounded by machines which flashed and beeped and wires trailed from his tiny body.
I stumbled; my legs had turned to jelly.
Hugo reached out and held me steady. ‘You’re okay,’ he assured me. ‘I’ve got you.’
My skin crawled beneath his touch.
‘You can sit with him. I’ll update you both as soon as I have any more information on his condition,’ the doctor said, excusing himself.
‘Thank you,’ I muttered, trying to remember his name as he left the room.
‘I’m so sorry, Maya,’ Hugo said as soon as we were alone together. He reached for my hand but I snatched it away from him.
‘Don’t,’ I said. I reached out and stroked my son’s forehead.
His skin, normally so perfect, was now marred with blue and black bruises but I was startled by how cool it was to the touch.
I couldn’t get my head around the fact that he was in a coma when it seemed just like he was asleep.
I looked at the shallow rise and fall of his chest, begging his body to keep working hard.
To keep fighting, because the alternative was unbearable.
‘Please, I’m so sorry,’ Hugo begged. ‘I’ll never be able to forgive myself for what happened tonight. I never meant for this to happen. This is a wake-up call for me. I’ll get help; I’m a monster. I’m so sorry.’
‘Stop it,’ I said sharply. I didn’t want to hear his words; I had no room for them in my head. Elliot was my only focus.
I knew he was suffering, I knew he loved his son and that he was remorseful, but I had no room for his pain on top of my own.
It was too little, too late. Why had it taken our son to be in intensive care for him to wake up and realise what he had?
How long had I waited for him to see me?
And now that he had, I no longer wanted him anywhere near me.
I had tried and tried to save my marriage.
I had gone to counselling. I had sacrificed my mental health and happiness for so long but as much as I had lost myself, tonight, I could lose something even greater.