Chapter 15
It’s morning and the early shift is doing the changeover.
They stop at the foot of each bed in the bay, catching up the new shift on each patient.
They talk about us but not to us, as if we are not really there.
‘Penny Fielding, in with pneumonia. She’s on day eleven of fourteen days tobramycin and ceftazidime and responding well.
Just needing three hourly obs now, keep an eye on her blood pressure please as it’s been a bit low.
She’s off the oxygen now and looking to go home early next week.
Oh, and she needs a new cannula in, can you do that one Laura? ’
I’m glad I’m doing so well, but I wish they would look at me, acknowledge that I am a person, I am here and I can hear.
They move on to Jodie en masse and talk in low tones I cannot quite catch.
They’ll be saying she can go home in the next few days, too.
All of us on the ward, in fact, are like different people; if not sprightly, at least a little more colour in our cheeks, a little more wind in our sails.
A few days back I was washed up on some distant shore after a great storm, battered and bruised and half-drowned, but I’ve crawled slowly up the beach and now I’m on my feet, a little wobbly but on my way to recovery.
I look over at Violet; she looks different to how she looked the other day, less dishevelled, less hollowed out.
She is drinking a cup of tea and eyeing the crowd of nurses with great suspicion.
She catches me looking at her. ‘The doctor is going to let me go home today. He said so yesterday.’
‘Oh, that’s good, then,’ I say. I don’t think he did say that, actually, but I don’t tell her that.
I think he might have said something about her going home sooner rather than later, but not as soon as this.
She’s pale round the edges, dark shadows under her eyes telling the tale of where she has been over the past days.
Amina says, ‘You cannot go yet.’
Violet scowls at her. ‘The doctor said—’
‘No, what I mean is, you must stay, so that you can be with us on our outing to the seaside.’
Violet frowns harder. ‘Don’t be silly, woman. That’s not actually going to happen, is it? It’s some ludicrous scheme of Jodie’s. We played along, is all.’ Then she mutters something else under her breath. Something possibly about not being interested in the opinion of certain people.
Amina just shrugs.
Funny, that’s what I thought at first, that it was all some kind of game.
But now my stomach drops at Violet’s words and I realise that I do, after all, want to go along with this bonkers plan.
I want to make Barbara glow, and there’s something more than that.
I look around the ward, look at each of these ladies in turn, women I had never met in my life two weeks ago, women I’d never have dreamed of being friends with.
I would care, I suddenly realise, if one of us was moved out of the bay tonight.
As I look at them something washes over me; a feeling of solidarity, strength, and something like hope, too.
I will be disappointed if we don’t, somehow, make this thing happen.
Amina clasps both hands over her mug and gazes over at me, then back at Violet. ‘I think we can do this. I think that Barbara needs us to. All of us.’
‘Well, you can do it if you like. I will be home and warm and catching up on Eastenders, thank you.’ Violet scowls up at the defunct TV system, the wretched thing Brian couldn’t get to work even after pouring thirty quid into it.
Even Jake couldn’t work his usual techy magic on it.
It’s ancient tech, he’d said, shrugging his shoulders and conceding defeat.
The youth of today, Violet had said, and Brian had muttered something about how disgraceful they all are, and how he would complain to the hospital and get his money back.
‘Well, we’ll be on the beach, watching the sea and the sky,’ Amina says, her eyes far away.
‘And flaming freezing,’ Violet says smugly.
After the doctors’ rounds, Violet is silent, shrivelled up like a daffodil that bloomed for a day then wilted, staring into space. Nobody asks her if she is going home.
Jodie is chipper today, blazing with energy and excitement.
‘I think tomorrow is the day,’ she says, her eyes flicking left to right, standing by my bed and wielding her phone at me.
‘Saturday is always quieter in hospital, anyway. No one on to us a hundred times an hour for bloods and physio and whatnot. I’ve checked the weather forecast, too, see here, and it’s basically the best weather in weeks.
A sign, I reckon.’ She glances at Kat, who lifts her shoulders gently.
‘Says it’s gonna be dry all day, well, most of the day, anyway.
Bit nippy, but it is November. If we go, like, straight after lunch, that’s always dead time isn’t it?
Hardly anyone around. Besides, we’ll just say we’re going to the Peace Garden as usual.
’ She waves her arms around, gabbling at a hundred miles an hour, barely pausing for breath.
It’s like the air itself is breathless, grasping hold of her every word, all of us leaning forward apart from Barbara, who is sleeping, and Violet, who slumps back in her chair.
She’s listening, though, the lines on her face vivid in motion, twitching up and down in disapproval then softening a little, and then hardening once again.
Jodie takes a deep breath in, and I can hear the hiss of her wheeze. ‘Yeah, so it says there might even be a bit of sun in the afternoon. Might warm it up a bit. And we only have to be out the van for a bit, like.’
‘Okay.’ Kat holds her palm up. ‘Look. If we’re seriously thinking about this, we should think about each aspect of it. So, you say, Kane could drive us in his van – does it have enough seats, and does it have seatbelts?’
Violet mutters something about health and safety gone mad.
Jodie nods furiously. ‘Yeah. It’s a minibus, all kitted out and everything. Space for the wheelchair too. And he’s a safe driver.’ She pouts at my doubtful look. ‘He is, ’cause he’s been a lorry driver before. So you don’t have to stress.’
‘Right,’ says Kat, scratching her head, possibly wondering, like me, why Kane is no longer a lorry driver. ‘And where is this beach you are thinking of? Does it have a car park?’
‘Well there’s this little bit of beach, not far.
Not many people know about it ’cause it’s not got shops or nothing like that.
But you can literally park right on the sand.
Honestly, you’ll love it. It’ll be perfect.
I only know about it ’cause my mum used to take us there as kids, used to say it was her hidden gem. ’
‘Hmm. So you can drive onto the beach. Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, for definite. We honestly won’t have to do any walking unless we want to just walk down to the water from the van and everything.’
‘You’ve thought it all out.’
‘Yeah.’
‘What about getting to the van, then?’ Amina says. ‘We are not very strong.’
‘Kane will help. He can take us down one at a time if we need. But most of us could probably make it out there now, couldn’t we? Kat? Penny?’
We both nod.
‘Violet can, she’s fast on her feet when she wants to be, like when she wants a fag. ’Specially with that frame thing. She’s like a little kid charging along behind a baby walker, aren’t you, Vi?’
Violet turns her back to us, the rigid line of her shoulders a palpable statement of non-intent.
Jodie shrugs. ‘Ah, she’ll come round.’
‘I suppose I could manage,’ Amina says. Then her shoulders drop. ‘I mean, if it is okay, that I come with you?’
‘Don’t be so daft. Course you’re coming.’
Amina smiles, and her eyes light the whole room.
Violet sniffs.
Kat taps her finger against her lips. ‘Okay, so, say we can all get to the entrance and Kane brings Barbara in one of the hospital chairs. Where will he park? And how will he get Barbara in? Those chairs don’t collapse down, you know, and they’re heavy beasts.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ Jodie says. ‘He’ll find a space. And even if he doesn’t, he’ll get us down there then go and get the van and bring it right to us. And he’s got a ramp thing. Stop stressing.’
‘I suppose that could work,’ Kat says, though her voice drips with misgiving.
She sounds like she knows she should be the grown-up here, she’s the one in a position of authority, the sensible, clear-headed one.
I can almost see the thoughts whizzing round her head, eyes flicking here and there as she computes the likelihood of this working.
‘It’s only a little trip. Hardly different to going to the Peace Garden, really.
And they don’t actually mind if you go out of the hospital sometimes, you know. ’
‘True,’ Jodie says, ‘I’ve been out for meals and stuff, when I couldn’t stand the grub here any longer.’
‘So it’s just like that, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly.’
But it’s not really just like that. When patients go off ward and off premises, they’re generally up to it, and they’re generally not confused eighty-seven-year-old ladies who might die any day. Perhaps if they’re with safe family members, but even then I can’t see Sister Harris complying.
‘Tomorrow, then?’ Jodie says, and gazes round the bay at each of us.
Nods. All nods, apart from Violet, who remains stiff and implacable, and Barbara who is fast asleep, dreaming of crashing waves and sand between her toes.