The traffic had almost been on lockdown because of the rising snow on the streets and it had taken them twenty-five minutes to get across the city. When they arrived in the emergency room, Clara was sat in a chair in the waiting area just in front a row of cubicles all with their curtains closed. The woman looked pale and concerned and was toying with the diamantes on her necklace.
‘Clara,’ Cynthia greeted, as they rushed up. ‘Where is he? Have they said anything?’
‘Hello! Is there a doctor around here! We need a doctor! Where is Oliver Drummond?’ Hayley called, starting to part curtains and walk into cubicles.
‘It all happened so fast,’ Clara started. ‘One moment, we were talking about Andrew… well, Regis Software and the next, he just went down on the floor.’ Clara wiped at her eyes with a tissue. ‘But it wasn’t like the last time. This time, he looked so pale, he was sweating, his breathing was shallow?—’
‘The last time?’ Cynthia asked.
‘Hello! Please, can someone tell us something? You!’ Hayley said, grabbing the arm of a nurse.
‘What seems to be the problem, ma’am?’
‘It was a couple of weeks ago,’ Clara said. ‘We came here and the doctor diagnosed stress causing hyperventilation.’
‘He collapsed on me too,’ Hayley added before turning to the nurse. ‘Listen, we’re the family of Oliver Drummond. He was brought in less than an hour ago by ambulance…’ She looked to Clara for confirmation. ‘We want to know what’s going on.’
‘Just give me a second and I will try to find out for you,’ the nurse said.
‘Sit down, Hayley,’ Cynthia ordered.
‘I can’t. We don’t know what’s happening. If I knew what was happening, I might feel a bit better, but he could be… he could be…’ She stopped talking when the enormity of what she’d been thinking got the better of her. This was her fault. This was because of the test. She had pushed it and he was worried about it and now… there might not even get to be a test. The tears were dripping from her eyes already.
‘Take it from someone who’s spent a lot of time in these places.’ Cynthia dropped to the chair beside Clara. ‘They need to be looking after him, not us.’
Hayley began pacing. ‘I need to do something. Shall I get coffee?’
Both women looked at her like she was crazy.
‘Yeah, I know it’s meant to be bad but…’
A female doctor approached them, a clipboard in her hand. ‘You are here for Oliver Drummond?’
‘Yes. Yes we are,’ Hayley stated.
‘I’m Doctor Khan.’
‘How is he?’ Cynthia asked as she got to her feet.
‘He’s resting,’ Dr Khan answered.
‘What does that mean exactly?’ Hayley blurted out. ‘Asleep? Unconscious?’
‘Was it a heart attack?’ Cynthia added.
‘He isn’t unconscious,’ the doctor reassured. ‘And he hasn’t had a heart attack.’
Hayley couldn’t help herself. She grabbed Cynthia’s arm and squeezed. ‘He’s going to be OK. I knew it.’
‘What happened to him?’ Cynthia asked, putting her hand over Hayley’s.
Clara got to her feet. ‘It was another panic attack, wasn’t it? Hyperventilation,’ she stated. ‘Like the last time.’
Doctor Khan smiled. ‘You can see him now, but one at a time. He’s a little dehydrated.’
‘I told him about that this morning,’ Hayley said, shaking her head.
He felt like an idiot. All this fuss again for nothing more than… He didn’t even want to think the wordspanic attack. It still made him feel like he was a teenager, afraid to speak in public, worrying about exams or asking a girl to the prom. It wasn’t supposed to be in the make-up of a head of industry.
