Fraser's Line (22 page)

‘You always done your best for your family. You’ve been working so hard for everyone’s good.’ Fraser couldn’t bear to see his daughter suffering any more.

‘I thought I was. I really thought I was. But oh, Dad, what a lot I didn’t see!’

Fraser began to realise what Sarah was saying. She knew – he felt certain of it.

‘I’ve got so much horribly wrong in my time,’ he said. ‘Perhaps it’s a good thing if you’ve been forced to have a rethink now. There’s lots of time ahead for you all to sort things out.’

Sarah nodded, and led Kate away to see George. Fraser thought how hard it would be for the little girl to see her brother unconscious and swathed in bandages. He waited anxiously for them to return.

They both seemed much calmer. Kate smiled at Fraser.

‘I’ve told him. I’m sure he heard me. I promised him when he came home I wouldn’t keep telling him what to do.’ Then she frowned. ‘I hope I can remember not to. I might do it before I’ve stopped to think.’ She turned to her mother, looking worried again.

‘If I hear you being bossy I’ll remind you,’ said Sarah. ‘And if you hear me not listening to what George is trying to say, you can tell me too.’

They went off together, mother and daughter, closely bound together in their pain. Fraser wondered how it would be when he next saw the parents together.

The aeroplane hovered at the end of the runway poised, preparing for the moment when it would throw all its energies into the forward thrust that would achieve the marvel of take-off. The crescendo of the mounting engine speed echoed the rising emotions that threatened to burst through Angela’s tense body as she attempted, unsuccessfully, to relax in seat 33A. There was only one thing worse than take-off, in her view, and that was coming down to land.

Seat 33B was occupied by a middle-aged man who had not stopped fidgeting since he sat down. He looked in the seat pocket in front of him, took everything out, and then put it all back, one item at a time. Then he started to rummage in his pockets, of which there seemed to be an unlimited number. First his outer coat, then his jacket, then his trouser pockets – and when he had been through all of those he started again on the coat. Then he took the coat off, but was undecided where to stow it. He looked up at the overhead locker as if that might open of its own accord and a hitherto concealed arm reach down and take his coat for him. No such event occurring he put it over one arm and looked from side to side – all seats were occupied – and then behind him. Sighing he rolled the coat up and put it under the seat in front of him. Then he started looking in the seat pocket again! Finally he turned to Angela and remarked that there did not seem to be a sick bag in there.

Great, thought Angela. Here am I, a nervous flier, and I have to find myself sitting next to a man who thinks he might be sick. It was going to be a long flight.

As the ground disappeared from view she tried to interest herself in the magazine provided, and wondered what the inflight entertainment might be. But it was impossible to block out the thoughts which were welling up in her as New York grew more distant, and that phase of her life was now being left behind. She wondered if she would ever go back, and decided she must try and visit Martin’s family, especially his ageing parents who had been broken-hearted at the loss of their son. It was no good – she would have to let her thoughts run over the events of the past few weeks, and try to lay them to rest.

The sight of the two youths, lounging back in their seats in the dock, apparently unconcerned at the suffering they had inflicted, and showing no signs of remorse, had been hard to bear. Then there was the young Downs Syndrome woman. The sight of her struggling bravely to give her evidence, and being forced to remember the misery of being tormented by the youths, had brought tears to the eyes. But worst, of course, had been the reliving of all that happened -- the way an evening so full of promise had been wrecked by devastating events – a life full of unselfish service snuffed out in a moment of thoughtless anger.

She had been lucky to have known Martin, and to have had him as her husband. She would never lose sight of that. Surely she, of all people, should be equipped with the knowledge of how to come through this and rise above it. Now there had been closure, with the verdict of guilty and the sentencing of those two youths, it was time to move on. But in what direction?

She thought of Fraser and his family, and of that little boy lying in a coma. Another tragedy that had come out of the blue and threatened to destroy the happiness of all those who were involved. Poor Fraser – he had had so much to bear recently, and had faced up to it all with an impressive courage. She knew he was there at the hospital now, tenderly caring for his grandson, doing everything in his power to will the little boy back to life. Her heart went out to him.

The fidgeting man was still being a trial. When the meal was brought round he could not decide whether to eat it or not, nor which part to attack first. He picked items up and put them down again, sighing in a disconcerting fashion. He struggled to open the packet containing a bread roll and then gave up. The thought of him eating his meal and then not being able to keep it down quite put Angela off hers. She nibbled a small amount and then pushed it away.

She would try and get some sleep, remote though the possibility seemed. The meals were cleared away – with more items seeming to go back into the trolley than had come out in the first place. Angela put her seat back and settled herself down. Her eyes closed, and miraculously her troubled mind began to calm down. She woke to hear the pilot announce that they would shortly be making their descent into Heathrow.

This was the moment she always dreaded. When she flew with Martin she would hold his hand most of the flight, and at this point would squeeze it so hard it was all he could do to repress a cry of pain. She hated the thought of hurtling towards the ground – watching the fields and streets get closer and closer – and couldn’t help wondering how on earth this man-made object, bent on its swift downward path, could be restrained sufficiently to allow a gentle landing.

Panic was on the point of setting in when suddenly a warm sensation flooded through her, dispelling the tension. The nearer they got to the ground the more the feeling of joy – perhaps even triumph – took over. She couldn’t explain it, but an unmistakable happiness swelled up inside her until she wanted to sing aloud. In place of the usual fear a rising tide of happiness threatened to engulf her. It was as though something wonderful had happened. As the wheels hit the tarmac Angela turned to see her white-knuckled neighbour finally release his grip on the arms of his seat. For the first time on the entire flight he smiled.

‘We’ve landed,’ he breathed. ‘Thank God.’

‘Yes,’ replied Angela, beaming at him. ‘Thank God.’

The next day Fraser’s question was answered. He was just about to leave the hospital briefly for a breath of fresh air when he saw Michael’s car draw up. As soon as it had stopped Michael leaped out and came quickly round to the passenger side where he held the door open for Sarah. Then they walked together towards the hospital entrance holding hands. They were smiling.

Not wanting them to know he had been watching them Fraser quickly retreated to his usual waiting post, where they arrived and greeted him. After the greetings Fraser had to report that there was no change in George’s condition. He was still just hanging on.

‘Wasn’t Kate brave yesterday!’ remarked Fraser. ‘I hope her worries were allayed to some extent, after her visit.’

Sarah’s eyes moistened. ‘I’m beginning to appreciate what a strong and thoughtful daughter I have. I should have realised it before. She has been a real support to me.’

It was Michael’s turn to speak. ‘I’m glad she was able to express her feelings to you. We hadn’t understood the full extent of the responsibility she had taken on her small shoulders for the accident. You helped her to come to terms with it all and to feel absolved from blame. Thank you for being so caring.’

‘That’s what grandfathers are for. Perhaps I can still have my uses.’ Fraser paused. Then he continued, ‘After Edie died I felt useless. I couldn’t cook, I couldn’t mix with people. I seemed to have lost the whole purpose for living, and my confidence deserted me. Now I’ve been able, perhaps, in a small way, to become more involved with your family, and to see that I can make my own contribution, I’m feeling better in myself. That sounds strange, when we’ve all got this dreadful crisis hanging over us.’

‘No it doesn’t.’ Sarah was looking thoughtful. ‘I think I understand what you’re saying. You see …’ she hesitated. The next bit was going to be difficult. She took a deep breath, and then went on. ‘Michael and I have had our own crisis. And I must take much of the blame for that. I was so bent on the day-to-day mechanics of achieving all that had to be done that I lost sight of …’ She was finding the emotion difficult, and had to stop.

Michael took her hand between both of his. ‘I’m not going to let Sarah take the responsibility for what I did. I was completely wrong in looking for comfort outside the marriage. I bitterly regret it. Somehow we had lost the ability to talk things over between us. That is never going to happen again. Sarah has been wonderful, and now we are going to see our son, and dedicate our lives together to him, and, of course, to our daughter.’

They went off to the intensive care unit, and when they returned they looked calm – almost happy.

‘I don’t know how to thank you for keeping up this constant vigil,’ said Michael. ‘It means a great deal to us to know that you are on the spot, all the time. When something does happen to George – whatever it is – his beloved grandpa will be here with him. That is a great comfort.’

As they left Fraser felt a kind of warm glow. He decided to visit George, and then go out for a brief walk.

The sun shone, and the air was clean and sharp. Sea air had a quality that energised and lifted the spirits. How different from the heavy atmosphere filled with petrol fumes that he normally breathed. He made his way back.

He had scarcely arrived at the waiting room when Sister Nina appeared, agitated. ‘Come, quickly, Mr Coleman. Quick! Quick!’

Fraser’s heart lurched. ‘What is it? Has he …’ Fearing the worst, he couldn’t bring himself to say the word.

She didn’t answer, but urged him towards George’s bedside. He looked at the boy, but could see no difference. He must have died peacefully, in his coma. Fraser sank down into the chair and put his head in his hands.

‘Look at his eyes! Look at his eyes!’ Sister Nina’s excitement made Fraser sit up. Were George’s eyes open just a fraction? Fraser thought he could see a slit. Then, as he watched, the slit widened. There was unmistakably a gap and some of the eye was showing. Slowly the lids continued their upward movement until a pair of eyes were visible – lifeless, uncomprehending eyes that apparently saw nothing, that expressed nothing.

‘Georgie! My dear boy! Hello George – it’s Grandpa. Oh George, how wonderful to see you! It’s … it’s magic!’

And now a light began to creep into those eyes. And the mouth began to move! Was that a smile? It was so hard to tell amongst all those bandages.

Then another miracle happened. George spoke.

‘Hello, Grandpa. Grandpa, I really, really hurt.’

‘I know, old boy.’ Fraser reached under the sheet for George’s hand and took hold of it, cradling it between his two large ones. ‘The thing is, you’ve had a nasty accident. In fact, you’ve been asleep for quite a long time. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.’

‘Where’s Mummy?’ The face began to pucker.

‘She’s been here to see you already today. You were sleeping then, so you didn’t know she was there. She came, with Daddy, just a few minutes ago. She’s on her way home now, but I’ll ring her and tell her you’ve woken up, and she and Daddy will come straight back. You rest a little more, and they’ll soon be here.’

George closed his eyes and Fraser stood up, fishing for his handkerchief. He blew his nose loudly and wiped his eyes, and then turned to see Sister Nina with the tears unashamedly pouring down her cheeks. Fraser clasped her in a great bear hug and swung her round before he put her down.

‘I don’t know how to thank you – you and all your nursing team. You’ve all worked so hard to keep him alive, and cared for him – I can’t thank you enough!’

‘This is our reward. To see a patient recover. It makes it all worth while. I’m so happy for you.’

‘I must go and call my daughter.’

Fraser hurried to the hospital exit and switched on his mobile phone. He rang Sarah’s number and could hardly speak for the emotion. He heard the heartfelt ‘Thank God’ they both uttered. They would turn round straight away and be there as soon as possible.

Fraser’s phone bleeped telling him a text message had arrived. It was from Angela, and it read, ‘Back with you again.’

Fraser smiled. She had an amazing knack for hitting the nail on the head. With a heart lighter than it had been for weeks he went back into the hospital.

George found that the world to which he returned was rather different from the one he had left, and he rather liked it. Mummy and Daddy were around much more. Mummy now shared the morning school run with Maria, and was always waiting at the school gate when he and Kate ran out at the end of the day. Daddy had time to play games and take them for walks, and sometimes put them to bed. Even Kate was less bossy! The atmosphere had changed, and without George being able to put his small finger on it, he enjoyed the new arrangements.