She turns her face to the sea and walks over to the rail. The wooden varnish is smooth under a hand that she knows is rough from stripping roses. The air is so sharp that she only takes in small gentle breaths, not wanting to fill her lungs all at once with the icy air. She once fell into a stream as a little girl, and the cold reminds her of this. The water was not high, but then neither wasshe. Asherfather strode in and pulled her up into his arms, the cold had made her heart pound so much she could not drag in a breath.
She has still not learnt to swim, but few she has met on board have. They prefer to spend their time on shore sitting with friends and family, swapping stories and smoking Faithful Lover. If it came to it, they say it will be up to God, and they would prefer a quicker ending.
In the years that follow she sometimes returns to the memory of this moment, looking out into the icy darkness. Did she feel a premonition of tragedy? Did a feeling of unease seep into her like the icy air? She can never quite decide.
Chapter 68
Emma
No Flowers
Emma can hear voices but cannot open her eyes. It seems like something is pressed over them. She thinks she hears Betty’s voice, but it can’t be her. This woman is trying to say something in French. She knows Betty is in the garden centre with Les, where they only speak English.
She is swimming upwards but cannot break the surface. Voices bubble through the water that seems to fill her ears. She tries to listen to the words, focus on each one in turn. The more she listens, the more the words take shape and she can string them together to make something of them in her mind.
The man is speaking in English with a French accent. She thinks of Philippe and of striped towels by a swimming pool.
‘Your friend has an injury to her head and her blood pressure is not good. That could be to do with the fall, but we are wondering why she fell in the first place. Do you know if she has any health problems?’
Emma wonders who this man is talking about. She thinks she should find out but nothing seems worth that much effort.
Betty answers, which strikes her as odd. ‘As far as I know, she’s fine. She has been under quite a lot of strain. She is…’ Hours seem to pass. ‘I have noticed she’s been looking very pale and dark-eyed over the past few weeks.’
‘Any allergies?’ someone says.
‘I don’t think so,’ Betty replies, ‘but I can’t be sure.’
‘Well, there is nothing more we can do now. We are going to monitor her progress and we will be running tests in the morning. We wondered if she may have an underlying heart condition– do you know if there is any history in the family?’
‘Her husband died of a heart attack… No, no, I’m sorry, that’s hardly…’
An image of Will walking away floats before Emma’s eyes.
‘Her father died of cancer– I believe it was lung cancer. Her mother is still alive. Leave it with me. Oh, goodness… I’ll have to try to contact her mother.’
Emma wants to tell Betty that she is doing really well. She sounds so worried. But no words come.
‘That would be helpful,’ the man says. ‘Right, we have your details– we will call you if there is any change.’
‘I’m not leaving. I don’t have to leave, do I?’
‘No, of course not. It won’t be me you will see again, but another doctor will be in in the morning.’
‘What time is it?’ Betty sounds bewildered.
‘3.15 a.m. Try and get some sleep.’
Emma does as Betty is told.
Emma knows she is lying on a bed and that the glow from the light in the corner of the room is blue. She supposes it is night for no other reason than because there is no sunshine.
She can see the outline of a person asleep in a chair beside her bed. She tries to turn her head towards them, but the pain makes her gasp. She can just see the top of a curly head and the door to her room that stands half open.
She watches as people walk past the door: some are strangers– doctors she supposes. She knows that much. Sometimes people from her youth pass by; her old Spanish teacher; a friend from college; and then, Roberto in his long white apron. None of these people come in.
She feels no surprise at seeing them, but the people she most wants to see– Will and her father– do not pass by.
Someone is asking where she comes from. She hears Betty answer, so maybe they aren’t talking to her. Betty says something about Oxford and the person asks if that is near London.
