Grace let herself be led away, away from the man she’d only just admitted to herself how much she cared about. As she walked down the corridor hand in hand with Eva, yet more medical staff rushed past in the opposite direction. Grace tried not to think about where they were going and what emergencies they’d have to deal with when they got there.
After Phil’s last spell in hospital, when they’d sat her down and told her that a hospice was the next and final step for her husband, she’d vowed never to set foot inside a hospital again if she could help it.
But she couldn’t help it now. She could no more walk away from Will than she could one of her own children.
She put up her fingers to pinch her nose shut. This was obviously a luxury hospital; the neutral decor was immaculate and there were staff everywhere you looked. From the corridor she glimpsed smart offices and rest rooms with pastel furniture and rugs. A bit different from the hospitals she’d been in with Phil. They’d had scruffy eau-de-nil walls and broken chairs, though admittedly the same incredibly dedicated staff, just far fewer of them. But however much money they’d lavished on this hospital, underneath the citrus air freshener being pumped out, it was the same smell. A smell she could never forget. Disinfectant mixed with a myriad other notes. The smell of despair.
The nurse took her to a brightly lit reception area and sat her down in a pale green upholstered armchair.
‘Would you like a coffee? Or a water?’
Grace shook her head.
‘I think you should try to drink something. You have a long wait ahead. Mr’—the woman looked at the electronic tablet she was holding—‘Lancing will be in surgery for several hours yet.’
So, Will’s second name was Lancing. He was Will Lancing. She hadn’t known. How could she feel so much for the man, a man she’d had glorious sex with, when she didn’t even know his second name?
‘Several hours? So there is no news yet?’
‘No, and there won’t be for a while. Please accept a coffee.’
Grace nodded this time. The Greeks thought coffee was an answer to many a problem. It couldn’t solve everything, but it was a good starting point.
The nurse went off to fetch her drink, and Grace caught sight of the front of her own T-shirt. The pale pink cotton was splattered with blood, Will’s blood.
A man sitting on the other side of the room gave her a confused stare.
Grace waved.
‘It’s OK, don’t worry. It’s not mine. None of it’s mine. It’s all Will’s.’
The man looked away again. He obviously thought she was insane.
Eva had added sugar to Grace’s coffee. She almost spat it out, but the nurse encouraged her to drink it.
‘The sugar is good for shock. Please try.’
Grace swallowed the hot sweet liquid and drank most of the bottle of water the nurse gave her as well. Her head did feel clearer.
Eva pointed at her T-shirt.
‘We have a lost property section here. I could find you something to put on if you like.’
Grace held onto a fold of the T-shirt. She was ready in case the woman tried to bodily take it off her. It might be all she had left of Will. Some drops of his blood.
‘No!’
‘OK, that’s fine. Don’t worry.’
The woman was looking around her as if she didn’t want to alarm the other relatives waiting for news. The room had filled up a bit since she’d first arrived.
‘Sorry, but I’d like to keep it on.’
‘I understand.’
She obviously didn’t but had been trained in dealing with difficult customers.
‘There is a hotel around the corner where we send our relatives in these circumstances. It’s only a two-minute walk, so would you like me to arrange that? It’s all paid for by Mr Lancing’s employers. We will ring you the second there is any news.’
