Officer Wilkes was quick to reply. ‘We’ve been trying to trace Mr Royston’s records. On behalf of the hospital. But, also, regarding his involvement in today’s unfortunate traffic incident. Perhaps you would forward details once you’ve retrieved them from his car.’
* * *
Officers Wilkes and Tyler escorted Sophie and Laura to the brightly illuminated reception area and left them in the care of a youngish woman, who introduced herself as May Barnet, Family Support. Her face was rigid with sympathy and compassion. She fussed over Laura then bustled Sophie along the main concourse, past shops brimming with consumer opportunities, and on into the hospital Costa. Sophie took a quick look around her: tables, chairs, food cabinets filled with the usual quick-satisfaction carb snacks. Tired, worried people. Waiting. An air of resignation. A place to be because you had no choice: just like Sophie had no choice.
‘This would be the best place to wait,’ said Mrs Barnet. ‘It’s open twenty-four hours and it’s less-stressful than the Intensive Care Unit. I’ll take you there shortly. There’s a nice restaurant on Level B. And the Chaplaincy is on Level D, if you feel you need to chat to someone about the situation.’
Sophie’s stomach took a dive. The last time she’d been encouraged to visit the hospital Chaplain was when her mother was unconscious and about to die. It had been a mistake. The Chaplain had offered to pray with her and it had made her angry. What was she supposed to be praying for? For her mother not to be dying? For her mother not to have developed cancer in the first place? For her mother to rally and open her eyes one last time and, amidst the pain, have one more cherished conversation with her daughters? Or perhaps for God to realise that allowing Emily Denham to suffer in this way was not her, Sophie Denham’s, idea of Divine Love. God’s punishment for mankind’s sin, the Chaplain had said. And all because a pair of unlikely miscreants had pissed him off way back at the beginning of time. No, seeing the person you loved most in the world being dealt that fate was incompatible with praying to a benign creator.
‘Can I get you a coffee?’
Sophie looked up. ‘Yes, please. Is it all right if I use my phone?’
‘Sure. Although not in Intensive Care. Can I get anything for Laura?’
‘No, it’s OK. I’ve brought supplies. Will the people in Intensive Care be able to tell me how the surgery is going?’
‘I’m sure they’ll let us know as soon as there’s any news. I’ll just get our coffees.’ She wandered over to the counter and Sophie took the opportunity to phone Katie.
* * *
Katie Hurst had been Sophie’s closest friend for much of the last decade. They had met on an induction course in the days well before Jonah had entered the scene, and had spent several years sharing dates and holidays. Katie had met her husband around the same time that Jonah had been contracted to install a new computer system in the biotech company Sophie worked for. Katie had been married within the year and was filing for divorce before her third anniversary. Sophie and Jonah had chosen not to marry. Actually, Jonah had chosen not to marry. He had experienced a messy break-up not long before and was feeling bruised and cautious. And what did it matter? They had enjoyed a modestly happy relationship. At least, Sophie had believed it to be a modestly happy relationship until Jonah’s announcement earlier that day.
Lately, though, she had suspected that Katie was reluctant to spend time with her when Jonah was around. Perhaps she’d had an inkling about Jonah’s intention to leave. Perhaps she had known about this other woman. Although, surely, she would have told her? But then people don’t, do they? People know about infidelity and feed it life by staying silent.
May Barnet chatted to Sophie over their coffees. Sophie got the impression that her conversational skills were the result of some course in how to fill time in a potentially tragic situation. She also seemed to have majored in pulling faces and waving at babies. It was beginning to drive Sophie to distraction when, fortunately, Katie came bursting into the cafeteria. They hugged. May Barnet looked on, apprehensive. Substituted. She attempted to introduce herself, but Katie dismissed her with a brief handshake then hurried round to appreciate Laura. ‘Have they told you anything, Soph? Have you got to wait here?’
‘He’s in surgery. Then they’ll take him to Intensive Care. We’ll be able to wait there.’
‘I’m afraid they don’t allow occasional visitors in the ICU,’ said May Barnet.
Sophie sensed a contest for her soul. ‘Perhaps, May, if you could show me the Intensive Care Unit. Katie could stay here and look after Laura while we’re away. Then I’d know where to go when Jonah comes out of surgery. And I wouldn’t have to take up any more of your time. There must be so many other people that need you.’
May Barnet’s mouth twitched a half-smile. ‘Of course. If Mrs Hurst is happy to wait with your daughter.’
* * *
The lift down to Level B was almost as big as Sophie’s spare room, although instead of a bed there was a porter and an elderly man on a trolley. The lift came to a halt, the doors opened and the elderly man was wheeled out and away. Sophie stepped out into the lift area behind May Barnet and was briefly reminded of her twisted ankle. She followed her over to a set of swing doors and, as they opened, the smell of disinfectant hit her like a baseball bat.
‘Is it all Intensive Care on this level?’
‘Good gracious, no. There’s all sorts here.’
It had been a stupid question. Sophie was an expert at stupid questions. So, she decided to say nothing, always the safest option, and followed May Barnet along identical corridors, reading signs, fearing that, without a guide, she would never find her way back to the lift and would be lost for ever in a super-sanitised hospital maze. The smell seemed to be intensifying. When Jonah came round after the surgery, it would be sure to drive him insane. She ought to mention his olfactory intolerance to the nursing staff.
May Barnet came to a sudden halt in front of some wide swing doors, stroked a card across a security panel then led the way through into a world of humming and beeping and distant voices. She directed Sophie towards a reception desk where they waited in silence. Presently, a woman in scrubs came over and explained that Jonah would not be out of surgery for some hours and that a room would not become available until nearer the time. Then she hurried away to respond to a buzzing noise.
On the way back to the lift Sophie recognised nothing. She recalled a fable in a long-ago storybook, about some hero finding his way out of a labyrinth by unwinding a trail of thread as he went in to kill a monster, then following the line of thread back out to safety. He might have been carrying the monster’s head with him on the way out. Although the monster’s head might have belonged in another story. Perhaps the head had belonged to Samson. She couldn’t remember.
Back on the ground floor, May Barnet presented Sophie with a business card, told her to call if any problems arose, then wandered away towards Reception. Sophie inserted the card into her purse, behind the card Suzie Kay had given her earlier. She wondered if she would ever see her again, if she would recognise her if she passed her in the street. Her memories of the day were such a jumble. Hadn’t she said it was her day off? Yes. She worked for a travel service in Guildford. Poor woman, becoming embroiled in Jonah’s calamity like that. You can never know what the fates are going to throw at you.