‘Now, I know it’s very confusing and everything will feel out of kilter. Off centre. Especially at first. In fact there’s a lot of evidence to suggest that when you’re in a coma you might experience hallucinations of various kinds.’
‘Hallucinations?’
‘Like dreams that are so vivid you think they’re real.’ She narrows her eyes as she stares at me, trying to gauge my reaction. ‘Some patients say they feel like they’ve been somewhere else, even experiencing another life altogether?’ The rising inflection lets me know she’s asking me a question, asking if I might have experienced something similar.
‘Another world?’
‘Exactly. But don’t worry, okay? You’ll get there. You’ll start to piece it all together soon. Come to realize what wasn’t real.’ She smiles in a way I think is meant to be comforting.
But itwasreal.
I know it was real.
The nurse stays by my bedside, hovering around the edges of my vision. ‘Did Cesca visit?’ I ask. It’s my first real question and I think she’s slightly taken aback that my question isn’t about something they would deem more important. But there is nothing else in the world that really matters. Nothing more important than Cesca.
‘Cesca?’ The question tells me the answer. My sister hasn’t been here, despite me being in a coma for six weeks. This has to be the most broken we’ve been and my heart shatters into a million pieces.
I wake up to find the brilliant lights have been dimmed and there’s an eerie hush in the air. It must be night-time. I’m thirsty and the canula in the back of my hand itches. At least I won’t be here for long, maybe another two nights and then I’ll skip to a new place, one where the air doesn’t smell like antiseptic.
Unless …
But I can’t let that thought form.
The skipping was real.
Is real.
Everything is going to be okay.
I just need to be patient.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I’ve been dreading this moment.
It’s his voice, travelling from the nurses’ station, that tells me the reunion I’ve been dreading is almost upon me and I find myself desperately searching the room for somewhere to hide. But there is nowhere within the barren four walls of this tiny hospital room for me to curl up and pretend this isn’t about to happen.
‘And you didn’t think to call me?’ He’s pissed off, the words clipped and full of that same sense of superiority that makes my skin crawl.
‘We’re sorry, Mr Ingram.’ The nurse sounds like she’s grovelling and I know that deep down he must be enjoying making her feel so small.
‘I’ll be telling the hospital director about this.’ He could never just let something go. He always had to make the formal complaint, send back the plate of food, get the manager. Is there a name for a male Karen?
‘Would you like to see her now?’ the nurse asks and my insides involuntarily coil in horrendous anticipation.
‘I’m not even going to dignify that question with a response.’ That was always one of his favourite lines and the irony was never lost on me that, by virtue of saying it, he wasactually dignifying the question with a response. But I never pointed that out to him.
‘Of course, Mr Ingram.’ The nurse somehow retains a calm tone.
I pretend to be asleep when he comes into the room. It’s petty and childish but I want to stretch every moment that this might not actually be happening. Until I open my eyes and register him there I can still convince myself this is nothing more than a bad dream.
‘Bethany?’ My name sounds wrong on his lips, even though there’s a surprising amount of affection in the word.
I still haven’t opened my eyes.
‘Bethany?’ This time the affection is reduced to merely a trace, his irritation in me not performing to his absolute expectations already trumping his relief that I’m finally awake. ‘Bethany?’ He’s far louder on this third time he says my name.
I gird myself and slowly slowly slowly flutter my eyes open.
