Part Six Chapter II

IIThe policewoman had been gentle and kind, in the cluttered cottage by the river, where dank water now covered blankets, chintzy chairs and timid rugs. The mature lady who owned the place had brought a hot-water bottle and a cup of boiling tea, which Sukhvinder could not lift because she was shaking like a drill. She had disgorged chunks of information her own name, and Krystals name, and the name of the dead little boy that they were committal onto an ambulance. The dog-walker who had pulled her from the river was rather deaf he gave a statement to the police in the next get on, and Sukhvinder hated the sound of his bellowed account. He had tethered his dog to a tree out situation the window, and it whined persistently.Then the police had called her parents and they had come, Parminder knocking over a table and smashing one of the old ladys ornaments as she crossed the room with clean clothes in her arms. In the little bathroom, the deep swampy gash on Sukhvinders ramificati on was revealed, peppering the fluffy bath mat with bleak spots, and when Parminder saw the wound she shrieked at Vikram, who was thanking everyone loudly in the hall, that they moldiness take Sukhvinder to the hospital.She had vomited once again in the car, and her stimulate, who was beside her in the back merchant ship, had mopped her up, and all the agency there Parminder and Vikram had kept up a flow of loud blither her father kept repeating himself, saying things like shell need a sedative and that cut will definitely need stitches and Parminder, who was in the back seat with the shaking and retching Sukhvinder, kept saying, You king arrive at died. You might have died.It was as if she was motionlessness underwater. Sukhvinder was somewhere she could not breathe. She tried to cut through it all, to be heard.Does Krystal know hes dead? she asked through chattering teeth, and Parminder had to ask her to repeat the examination several times.I dont know, she answered at b lend. You might have died, Jolly.At the hospital, they make her undress again, but this time her mother was with her in the curtained cubicle, and she realised her mistake too late when she saw the expression of horror on Parminders flavour.My God, she said, grabbing Sukhvinders forearm. My God. What have you done to yourself?Sukhvinder had no oral communication, so she allowed herself to subside into tears and rebellious shaking, and Vikram shouted at everyone, including Parminder, to leave her alone, but also to damn sanitary hurry up, and that her cut needed cleaning and she needed stitches and sedatives and X-rays Later, they put her in a bed with a parent on each side of her, and both of them stroked her hands. She was warm and numb, and there was no pain in her leg any more. The sky beyond the windows was dark.Howard Mollisons had another heart attack, she heard her mother tell her father. Miles wanted me to go to him.Bloody nerve, said Vikram.To Sukhvinders drowsy surpri se, they talked no more about Howard Mollison. They merely continued to stroke her hands until, short afterwards, she fell asleep.On the far side of the building, in a brassy blue room with credit card chairs and a fish tank in the corner, Miles and Samantha were sitting on either side of Shirley, watching for news from business firm. Miles was still wearing his slippers.I cant believe Parminder Jawanda wouldnt come, he said for the umpteenth time, his congressman cracking. Samantha got up, moved past Shirley, and put her arms around Miles, kissing his thickly hair, speckled with grey, breathing in his familiar smell.Shirley said, in a high, smothered voice, Im not surprised she wouldnt come. Im not surprised. Absolutely appalling.All she had left of her old life and her old certainties was attacking familiar targets. Shock had taken about everything from her she no longer knew what to believe, or even what to hope. The man in theatre was not the man she had thought she had married. If she could have returned to that happy place of certainty, before she had read that awful post Perhaps she ought to shut down the full website. Take away the message boards in their entirety. She was afraid that the Ghost might come back, that he might say the awful thing again She wanted to go home, right now and disable the website and while there, she could repeal the EpiPen once and for all He saw it I know he saw it But Id never have done it, really. I wouldnt have done it. I was upset. Id never have done it What if Howard survived, and his first words were She ran out of the room when she saw me. She didnt call an ambulance straight away. She was holding a big needle Then Ill say his brains been affected, Shirley thought defiantly.And if he died Beside her, Samantha was bosom Miles. Shirley did not like it she ought to be the centre of attention it was her husband who was trickery upstairs, fighting for his life. She had wanted to be like Mary Fairbrother, co sseted and admired, a tragic heroine. This was not how she had imagined it Shirley?Ruth Price, in her nurses uniform, had come hurrying into the room, her thin face forlorn with sympathy.I just heard I had to come Shirley, how awful, Im so sorry.Ruth, dear, said Shirley, getting up, and allowing herself to be embraced. Thats so kind. So kind.Shirley liked introducing her health check friend to Miles and Samantha, and receiving her pity and her kindness in front of them. It was a tiny taste of how she had imagined widowhood But then Ruth had to go back to work, and Shirley returned to her plastic chair and her uncomfortable thoughts.Hell be OK, Samantha was murmuring to Miles, as he be his head on her shoulder. I know hell pull through. He did last time.Shirley watched little neon-bright fish darting hither and thither in their tank. It was the past that she wished she could channelize the future was a blank.Has anyone phoned Mo? Miles asked after a while, wiping his eyes on the back of one hand, while the other gripped Samanthas leg. Mum, dyou want me to ?No, said Shirley sharply. Well wait until we know.In the theatre upstairs, Howard Mollisons body overflowed the edges of the operating table. His chest was wide open, bring out the ruins of Vikram Jawandas handiwork. Nineteen people laboured to repair the damage, while the machines to which Howard was connected do soft implacable noises, confirming that he continued to live.And far below, in the bowels of the hospital, Robbie Weedons body lay frozen and white in the morgue. Nobody had tended to(p) him to the hospital, and nobody had visited him in his metal drawer.