“I don’t believe it. All this from measles? A coma?”
“Well, from the encephalitis, really. The doctor said it’s an extension of the virus, which attacks brain tissue. But it seems everything stemmed from the original infection, yes...”
Her words trailed off and there followed a prolonged silence, during which Madeleine was sure she could feel reprobation coming down the line.
“What can I do? How can I help? I tried to phone Kate but she’s not picking up and—”
“Madeleine, there’s nothing you can do, nothing any of us can do—not now anyway. But I’m sorry to say this and really hate doing so, but you really,reallyshouldn’t have sent Clara to school that day.”
Madeleine wanted to cry with guilt. While she already felt bad enough and had since being on the receiving end of a few different forms of recrimination, now hearing it from her best friend, her closest ally...was like a shot to the heart.
But how could she even think about defending herself when a little girl was fighting for her life?
“I know, but...but I couldn’t have known, Luce. I had no idea that something like this would happen, and Clara got through it fine...”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, but I’m upset, too, for Rosie—and for Kate. Honestly, my heart was breaking to see her being dragged out of the ICU while they tried to stabilize Rosie. It’s horrific...such a nightmare for any parent. And of course I know that you never meant any harm. But, Maddie, you must also know people aren’t happy and already they’re starting to point the finger.”
Madeleine knew that much; she’d experienced it just now with Carol McDaid. Tom’s mother had also mentioned similar murmurings the other night, but at the time Madeleine had brushed Harriet’s concerns away.
And thinking back on her correspondence with Julie Wells the other day about the book club:Probably best to leave it...
She’d been too stupid at the time to realize the other woman was giving her the brush-off.
Oh, God, what have I done...?
She could fix this, Madeleine decided. She would talk to Kate, do whatever it took, ensure that Rosie got the best possible care. She didn’t know if the O’Haras had health insurance but it didn’t matter, Tom would know who to talk to at the hospital, or if not, he’d get in touch with someone who would.
“Where is Kate now?” she asked Lucy.
“At the hospital, I’d imagine. Although no, she did say something about getting her car back this morning. It broke down the other day—that’s why she wasn’t back at the hospital when Rosie’s convulsions started. To be honest, I’m kind of glad she wasn’t. Truly, Maddie, I’m not quite right myself after it. After staying in the ICU all night with her, I went straight home and hugged the life out of my own two. That kind of terror, no parent should ever have to go through it.”
Madeleine bit her lip. “The poor thing. So you think she might be at home now? Or in town at least?”
“I think so. But, sweetheart, I really don’t think—”
For the second time that day and possibly in her entire life, Madeleine hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
She jumped straight into the Audi and was on the other side of Knockroe within minutes, speeding on the windy country roads the whole way. Screw it, this wasn’t the time for stupid rules and regulations, not if she wanted to catch Rosie’s mum before she traveled back to the hospital.
She was only a few yards from the entrance to Kate’s driveway, when she spied a yellow Beetle pass by on the other side—Christine Campbell’s unmistakable Volkswagen. And she couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn Kate O’Hara was sitting in the passenger side.
Did Christine know Kate, and if so, how?
Madeleine wasn’t sure why, but all at once she felt a heavy, leaden knot form in the pit of her stomach.
17
Christine chattered away while I was only half listening.
She kept saying, “You’re doing the right thing, seriously. And Declan is brilliant. He’ll beperfectfor this, believe me.”
In the wake of my nightmarish weekend, Christine had jumped all over my split-second concession to her idea of seeking redress from the Coopers. But my initial urge for revenge on Friday morning in the wake of Rosie’s trauma was by now already fading, and doubt was creeping in.
Which was why Christine was determined to have me pay a visit to her cousin at his office first thing this morning, before dropping me off at Nolan’s garage to pick up my car. She wasn’t going to give me any time to talk myself out of this.
And I started to wonder, as I sat quietly in the car, if this was Christine’s cross to bear or mine.
Thankfully (I think), I didn’t have too much time to ponder that line of inquiry because before I knew it we were pulling into a small row of offices in Glencree.
