Adam got to his feet. ‘I’m his…Henry’s son. And this is my wife, Sofia.’ They shook hands.
The surgeon sat down, motioning that they should all do the same.
‘Okay, so you know that your dad has been in a serious accident.’ He cleared his throat and nodded as if he was answering his own question. ‘He’s badly concussed and has broken a couple of ribs, one of which has punctured his lung. We’ve got that sorted out for now, but he needs to go to theatre as soon as possible and we’ll be taking him down very soon. You can come and see him for a few minutes, though.’
They all stood up again, Peg last, lagging behind so that it wouldn’t be her who entered the cubicle first.
The nurse drew back the curtain and Sofia gasped, clutching at Adam’s arm. It wasn’t good, anyone could see that. There were cuts, bruises, blood…They moved as one to stand beside Henry.
Peg’s eyes flew to the machine he was tethered to, the one which beat out the pulses of his life. Numbers for this, numbers for that, lines and wiggles, each one telling a story, a story which Peg could read like a book. She dropped her eyes, wondering if Adam could understand them too.
The nurse smiled and held out a hand to her. Peg could see his name was Robin. ‘Henry’s been asking for you, Peg. Why don’t you come round this side so he can see you better?’
And for the first time, standing by the side of his bed, Peg allowed herself to look at the man she had shared no more than two hours of her life with. A man she barely knew, but who liked cheese and beetroot sandwiches and mince pies and had joked with her about the colour of paint which may or may not have been spilled all over the M5 motorway. Breakfast Room Green. Would he even remember that?
His hair looked more grey than she recalled, but perhaps the lighting was to blame. And his face more lined, but perhaps that was down to the pain. She forced herself to smile.
‘Hello, Henry.’
His eyes turned towards her and recognition flickered, pulling up the corners of his mouth – just a little – not quite a smile, but something…His lips moved, but if he said anything no one could hear it and then they closed again, along with his eyes. His hand lay inches from her own, and she wondered if she should…She slipped her fingers around his and gave a tiny squeeze. It didn’t matter that she scarcely knew him, what mattered was that he knew she was there. She shushed the thoughts which were jostling inside her head. They were too much, too painful…
The nurse was making ready. The surgeon was on the move. It was time to say goodbye.
12
The hands on the clock turned. The minutes became an hour and then two. Peg shifted her weight from one haunch to the other, uncrossing her legs and recrossing them in the other direction. There was only so long one could sit on a plastic chair without it becoming deeply uncomfortable, and she was at the point where she needed to stand.
‘Can I get anyone anything?’ she asked.
It was the third time she’d asked the same question, or some variant of it. First it was drinks, then something to eat, and on both the previous occasions, Adam and Sofia had mutely shaken their heads. Adam’s gaze was still fixed on the wall ahead; Peg didn’t think he’d moved it in all the time they had been sitting there.
‘There’s a restaurant here,’ she added. ‘And I’m going to see what they have. At least get a cup of tea. Are you sure you don’t want anything?’
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Sofia, suddenly getting to her feet. ‘I’ll get some coffees. Adam?’ Her husband turned his face, incomprehension the only thing written there. ‘Shall I get you a coffee?’
‘Yeah, sure…’ He turned back to the wall.
Peg shot Sofia a glance before moving to stand directly in front of Adam. She leaned down and touched his arm. ‘The restaurant is upstairs if you need us,’ she said, waiting a moment until she had his attention before continuing. ‘It’s right opposite the bank of lifts as you come out.’
Adam nodded. ‘Yeah, I know where you mean.’
‘Okay then, see you in a bit,’ she said before leading Sofia away. She knew Adam’s look well; that had been her a few years ago.
‘Oh dear…’ said Sofia as soon as they had passed through a set of double swing doors and were out of earshot. ‘He’s blaming himself. I knew he would.’
‘It happens,’ murmured Peg.
‘But Henry was as much to blame. In fact, he started the argument, going on again about Adam’s promotion. We were talking about having our dining room extended and he just had to pour cold water on the idea, it’s all he ever does when we talk about our plans. And it’s Christmas Day,’ she added, as if that would convey everything she was feeling.
Peg gave an acknowledgement. Perhaps in Sofia’s world that was sacrosanct and still retained its special status, an untouchable oasis of time, but Peg knew that there was no such thing. Things happened whenever they chose – at the right time, a slightly inconvenient time or an inconceivable one, it made no difference.
‘I had to turn my oven off,’ she said. ‘I’ve got an eighteen-pound turkey in there. Roast potatoes, pigs in blankets…Do you think I can just carry on cooking it?’
Peg stared at her. ‘Let’s get something to drink,’ she said. ‘I imagine it’s all rather a shock.’ The Sofia that Peg knew, even if only by reputation, was returning.
The smell of gravy greeted them as soon as the lift doors opened. It was lunchtime, and whatever else was going on in the world, there was food to be eaten. The restaurant was quiet, more staff than visitors or patients, and she wondered fleetingly if they were able to have a special dinner today. She steered Sofia towards a pile of trays and, picking one up, began to survey what was on offer.
‘Do you want anything to eat?’ she asked. ‘Or will Adam?’
