Emergency: Wife Lost and Found. Carol Marinelli

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      ‘What happened then, James?’ May’s voice broke him from his introspection.

      ‘We found out that she was pregnant.’

      ‘Hello!’ A bubbly ICU nurse who introduced herself as Angela came in and interrupted them, but even with her bright demeanour James could tell she was nervous—it was never easy dealing with staff, especially when the patient was so ill. ‘Sorry to have kept you waiting so long, but we’re still having a lot of trouble stabilising her. Now, I just need to go through a few details. You’re Lorna’s ex-husband?’ she checked.

      ‘That’s right.’

      ‘Firstly, is there any past history you’re aware of that we should know about?’

      James hesitated for a second, not sure it was relevant, not really wanting to share that part of his past, but if it helped her, they had to hear it.

      ‘I don’t think so. She had an appendectomy when she was twelve, I believe, and she had an an ectopic pregnancy, but that was ages ago.’

      ‘How long?’ Angela asked, scribbling the information down.

      ‘Ten, nearly eleven years ago.’

      ‘Anything else? Diabetes, epilepsy…’

      James shook his head. ‘Not that I’m aware of.’

      ‘Do you keep in contact with Lorna?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘And how long is it since you’ve spoken with her?’

      James gave a tight swallow. ‘Ten years.’

      ‘I see.’ James felt sorry for Angela, it was a difficult situation after all. He had no real right to see Lorna, less right even than a person on the street who might walk in now and claim to know her. Divorce did that, James had long ago realised. ‘Her family are on their way,’ Angela said. ‘They should be landing any time now—they got a flight as soon as they were informed. Obviously, while Lorna is unable to speak for herself, we have to rely on the next of kin to determine her wishes, which in this case is her parents.’

      ‘They won’t be thrilled to see me!’ James looked her right in the eye. ‘Look, there was nothing acrimonious in the divorce.’ It was killing him to discuss this with a stranger, he wouldn’t discuss this with a stranger. ‘It just didn’t work out, but we did both care about each other. I know I’m her ex, which should mean I’m the last person she wants to see,’ he faltered, because from previous indication that was exactly the case. ‘She was in full cardiac arrest in my department. I just need to see for myself…’

      ‘I understand.’ Angela said, but James was quite sure she didn’t. However, her eyes were kind and she gave a sort of half-smile. Then what she said next made him realise that maybe she did understand after all. ‘I’m divorced myself, but I know I’d want to see him if he was so ill. But once the family get here, the decision will be theirs.’

      ‘I understand that.’ James gave a grateful nod. ‘I’m not going to get in the way.’

      ‘Do you want me to come?’ May offered, but James shook his head. ‘I’ll just wait here.’

      He’d always wished for one more chance to see her, to talk to her, to say he was sorry, so very sorry for all that had happened and to find out why, and some of his wishes had been granted tonight. Even though they hurt like hell, he was incredibly grateful for them.

      She was pinker now. It was the first thing he noticed when he approached, just as if she were sleeping really, apart from the tubes everywhere.

      The warming unit was on—a large inflated duvet, that would help maintain her temperature, and she looked tiny beneath it with just her head and shoulders visible.

      He’d wanted this moment with her, would have pulled rank or just stormed his way in to get it, only now it was here, James didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what she’d want him to do.

      A chair had been placed by the bed so he perched on it. Angela took over from the float nurse who had been watching Lorna and now she sat, high up on a stool at the end of the bed, reading all the equipment and filling in the charts, watching Lorna every second, which was what Intensive Care was, after all, but he’d have killed for just a couple of minutes alone with her.

      ‘She’s the most private person.’ James glanced over at Angela. ‘I mean, she’d really hate all this. I know anyone would, but…’ He was rambling, really didn’t know what to do. Her collar bones were exposed so he pulled the warming unit up higher around her neck. She’d always been slim but she was skinny now. As Angela exposed her arms to check her reflexes he could see the veins, see her neat, short nails which, unlike her toes, were left unpolished.

      ‘Here.’ Angela left one skinny forearm out from under the warming unit. “Why don’t you hold her hand, tell her that you’re here? It might be reassuring for her to hear a familiar voice.’ He hadn’t held Lorna’s hand in ten years and he didn’t know if he should, but when he did her hand felt cool, but that was how she had always felt. He stared at the bony fingers and the blue veins on the back of her hand and the smattering of freckles that he had adored but she had so hated.

      ‘She was always cold.’ He was talking to Angela but looking at Lorna. ‘She’d come in after a night shift and she’d be frozen.’ Now he was remembering things that he had chosen not to, those freezing winter mornings when she’d climb into bed beside him as cold as the ice outside, or when he’d crawl into bed beside her at 7 a.m., cold himself to find her for once warm. He wanted to warm her now, wanted to crawl into bed and hold her, feel her again. Only he couldn’t, hadn’t been able to for a decade now.

      What to do, what to do? His head was spinning. She’d left him, would she even want him sitting beside her now?

      Yes.

      Accidents did happen—James Morrell knew that better than anyone, but for her to be here when she was so very ill… His head tightened at the thought that she might die, or be brain damaged, but somehow there must be a reason that she was here. Somehow she had come back to him, even if it was just to say goodbye.

      He was holding her hand to his face now and it was like a dam breaking. Feeling her skin beneath his lips he leant over, buried his face in her hair, inhaled the last wisps of the lavender shampoo she had always used, felt her cheekbone rest beneath his.

      For a second he thought someone must have died in the next bed, because he could hear crying—a deep, pained crying. It was only when he felt a hand on his shoulder that James realised it was him.

      ‘Talk to her, James.’ Angela must have gone and got May, because it was her at his shoulder, urging him to say what he had to while he had this chance. So he did—told Lorna all the things he’d wanted to say, all the things he never had, told her over and over in the pathetic hope that maybe she could hear him.

      ‘Her family just arrived.’ Ages later, but way too soon, May prompted him to move. ‘They’ve asked that you leave.’

      He’d worked in Emergency for years and had never understood it—those flashpoint rows that were so out of place in a hospital, rows that infuriated the staff and prompted review panels to be set up to avoid them. But seeing that СКАЧАТЬ