Page 26 of The Happy Family

Has she fainted?

Has she suffered a sudden drop in blood pressure?

Or is it something else?

I have no idea.

But we’re in the perfect place to find out.

SEVENTEEN

LUNA

‘I feel really weak,’ I say to the frowning doctor who sits beside me in the same hospital corridor where I just collapsed. Except I didn’t really collapse. I faked it. That’s because I had to do something about the chances of Sadie waking up from her coma soon and this is my something. The ‘fake fainting’ was part one of my plan. Now it’s on to the second part.

‘Something’s wrong,’ I say to the doctor whilst Reid stands in front of us, holding Jude, and looking very worried.

‘She has been under a lot of stress lately,’ my partner chimes in, but that’s not really helping me because I don’t just want this doctor to think I became overwhelmed with my busy life and succumbed to stress. I need him to think there is some serious medical issue that I have that warrants investigation and, to do that, I’ll need to be given a bed on a ward somewhere in this hospital until the time comes for the tests. I need that to happen rather than the likelier outcome, which is that I get told to go home and rest, because I cannot go home now. Not when Sadie is on the verge of rejoining us in the land of the conscious.

I have to stay here, where she is, but not to simply wait for her to wake.

I have to stay so I can silence her before she does.

‘My heart is pounding and my head feels like it’s going to explode,’ I say to the doctor. ‘I feel hot too. Something is seriously wrong.’

Come on, doc. I need you to fear that I am falling victim to some awful disease or virus and get me hooked up to an IV drip as soon as possible. I need nurses fussing over me. I need a bed. I need to become a patient here like Sadie is.

‘Do you feel like you could lose consciousness again?’ the doctor asks me, and I have to pretend I do.

‘Yes, I feel awful. Like I’m getting worse by the second. I don’t know what is wrong with me, but it’s bad,’ I say, using all my acting skills on what I hope is an easily deceived doc. He looks fairly young, so that might mean he lacks experience, or at least I’m counting on it. An older, wiser doctor might not be as easily fooled by me feigning a serious illness, but this guy might. I need him to be worried, not just about me but about himself and his career if he makes a mistake and sends a poorly woman home when he should have let her stay here.

‘I don’t want to die. My baby needs me,’ I say then, really going for it, like some ageing actor who knows they are filming their last movie, and this is their final chance to capture that Oscar that has always eluded them.

‘I think we should get you checked over by one of my colleagues and take it from there,’ the doctor says, deciding he can’t risk anything based on what I am telling him.

‘I need to lie down. The room is spinning,’ I say, hinting at the bed that I so desperately want. ‘Is there somewhere I can go? Is there room here at this hospital for me? I’m not sure I can stand a waiting room when I feel like this.’

‘I will go and check,’ the doctor says, standing up, and he tells Reid to keep a close eye on me before he departs.

Reid quickly sits down beside me, and I look at the sleeping Jude in his arms. I’m going to miss him if I do end up staying in here overnight, but it’s necessary and is the only way I can guarantee I won’t be missing any other nights with him in the long term.

‘Here. Have some water,’ Reid says, handing me the bottle he brought from home but has barely touched so far.

I tentatively take it and put it to my lips, making a point of shaking my hands a little so it looks like I am weaker than I really am. I feel bad that I will be worrying Reid now, but again, it’s all collateral damage that must occur if I am to keep our family together.

‘Maybe it is all the stress lately,’ I say to him after taking a drink. ‘Or maybe it’s something else. I don’t know. All I do know is I feel so tired and need to rest. Would you be okay if they decided to keep me in here overnight?’

‘Yes, of course. Don’t worry about us. We’ll manage,’ Reid quickly assures me.

‘Thank you,’ I say before I notice the doctor returning with a nurse by his side. She looks as young as he is, so this could be more potential inexperience that I can try to exploit.

‘Are you okay to come this way?’ the doctor asks me. ‘We have somewhere we can lie you down and examine you there.’

‘I’ll try,’ I reply, hating how useless and pathetic I’m forcing myself to sound because the truth is I feel strong and like I could do anything. Like kill a person. But I have to bide my time on that and, right now, appearing weak will ultimately be my strength.

The doctor and nurse help me up out of my seat, lifting me by taking an arm each, while Reid stands and continues to be occupied with our son. Then they lead me down the corridor, away from Sadie’s room and, eventually, onto another ward about a ten-minute walk from her. When we get there, I am delighted to see that I am being shown to a bed and, as I am helped onto it, I am praying this is going to be declared as mine for the night.

The doctor tells me the nurse will conduct a few checks and he will be back shortly, so I allow his colleague to do what she needs to do. She takes my temperature. Monitors my blood pressure. Looks at my pupils. Listens to my heart. Has me cough and recite back a couple of things to her to test my memory and cognitive function. Then she decides I’m dehydrated and gets me that IV drip that the doctor previously mentioned. All the while, Reid stands by, he and Jude, like worried watchdogs beside my bed, although Jude isn’t doing as much watching as his father because his eyes keep closing not long after they have opened.