The name brings with it an image of a stony-faced woman in a severe black dress. She’s admonishing me, telling me I’m doing it all wrong. I can’t remember whatitis, but the feeling of inadequacy lodges in my chest.
‘Mrs Ingram?’ the stranger whispers a third time.
I want to tell her to shut up. To leave me in peace.
But nothing happens when I try to open my mouth.
Chapter Forty-Five
I’m lost in the dark. Unable to find my way home. The cold air nips at my toes and I realize I’m barefoot. The terror bubbles inside me.
‘Help me!’I scream into the void.
But no one answers.
Chapter Forty-Six
I find my way to the light.
But all it reveals is a white room, white sheets, a white machine beeping next to me. The scent of disinfectant fills the air.
A doctor hovers over me, adjusting the machine, swearing under her breath as she tries to make the beeping stop.
A nurse presses a button and the top half of the bed rises so I can take in more of the hospital ward.
‘What happened?’ I ask, the words abrasive in the back of my throat.
The doctor gives up with the machine and turns to face me. ‘You’ve been in a coma.’ She’s matter-of-fact, no emotion in her voice.
‘How long?’
There’s a pause. I turn my head to look at the doctor who has moved towards the end of the bed.
‘How long?’ I repeat, trying to inject more authority into my broken voice.
She takes a breath. ‘It’s complicated.’
That is not an answer. I can feel my heart rate rising, echoed in the beeping from the machine next to me. ‘How long?’ I ask for the third time.
‘You need to calm down,’ she tells me.
‘You need to tell me how long,’ I counter, but I can feel a fist closing around my heart.
‘Mrs Ingram. You need to calm down.’
I want to scream. ‘My name is Bethany and I need to know how long I have been here.’ I’m so close to losing my temper.
‘You have a heart condition, Bethany. You need to make sure you keep breathing and try not to panic.’
I take a few deep breaths, making sure she sees the performance. Although I have to say that it does make me feel a tiny bit better.
‘You’ve been here for six weeks,’ she says eventually.
I allow the words to sink in. Six weeks. I’ve been in a coma for six weeks. ‘What happened?’
‘We don’t really know,’ the doctor replies. ‘We think you had a heart attack in your office. One of your colleagues called an ambulance. You’ve been here since then.’
‘But … but …’
