Second Time Around

What was that incessant noise? Beeps, buzzing, and some other sound, something more rhythmic, but so bloody loud that it was doing Suzie’s head in. It was moving, too,
and, after a moment, she realised that she was moving with it. A wave of fear washed over her. What the hell was going on? This wasn’t funny any more.

Suzie opened her mouth to call for help but no sound came out. Cold fingers of terror gripped her as she realised that she was pinned down. Panicking, Suzie struggled to free herself but it was
useless: she couldn’t move. She tried to open her eyes but that didn’t work either, yet Suzie was pretty sure that she wasn’t blindfolded. She tried again but her lids refused to
budge.

What was happening to her? Suzie had never felt so trapped and frightened. The beeping sped up, adding to her hysteria, and another, higher-pitched, alarm, louder than the others, joined the
cacophony. And then she heard voices and she called out, begging them to help her, to make it all stop. But they didn’t seem to even hear her, so she screamed as loud as she could, and then
there was finally a voice, low and reassuring.

‘It’s okay, Suzie, relax, I’ve got you.’

The voice was soothing, assured and calm, and so she let go, trusting it, and allowing herself to drift into oblivion.

Jess Connors stroked her mother’s cool hand, humming the melody Suzie had always sung to her as a child when she was ill or couldn’t sleep. It was a simple song,
something about a seesaw, but it had always dried Jess’s tears and made her feel safe. She looked around the room – bare but for two chairs, the equipment around the bed and cautionary
notices on the wall – and wished herself anywhere else. A piece of red-and-gold foil fluttered forlornly above the window, presumably the remnants of a Christmas decoration. The festive
colours seemed disgustingly inappropriate and she itched to climb up onto a chair and take it down.

The window itself was annoying. Most of the wards Jess passed every day had small windows, high up in the wall, offering no glimpse of trees or sky to cheer an ailing body. Yet this small cell,
whose residents were rarely conscious, had a large, south-facing window. A shaft of sunlight streamed in now, casting a golden glow over her mum’s pale cheeks. She looked so small and
fragile. Jess blinked back her tears.

‘Come on, Mum, enough’s enough. Don’t you want to get out of this place? I know I do. Please wake up.’

There was a cursory knock on the door and a nurse hurried in. ‘Hi, Jess. How are you today?’

‘Grand, thanks, Ann.’ Jess moved out of her way, surreptitiously wiping her eyes. Grand. What a stupid word. Her mother had been in a coma for weeks and there was no sign of her
coming out of it, but Jess was ‘grand’. She leaned against the wall and watched the nurse go through the routine checks. At this stage, Jess could easily step in and take over the
nurse’s duties, if she fancied a break.

‘Giving her a manicure today?’ Ann asked, nodding towards the bedside table.

Jess forced a smile and nodded. ‘She always said that my granny’s hands were as rough as a labourer’s and was determined to keep hers soft. She used coconut oil.’ She
grimaced, realising she’d spoken in the past tense.

‘She’ll be delighted when she wakes up to see that you kept them so nice for her.’ The nurse shone a torch into her mum’s eyes. ‘Aren’t you lucky, Suzie, to
have Jess to pamper you?’

‘Do you think that she will?’ Jess traced a crack in the floor tile with the toe of her boot. ‘Wake up, I mean.’

‘Of course she will,’ the nurse said.

Jess’s head snapped up to stare at her. The other staff never answered that question, yet there was a quiet confidence about Ann that made Jess wonder. The woman was probably in her
fifties and had worked in this unit for years. Maybe being around comatose patients so long had given her an instinct her superiors didn’t possess. Jess could almost see her brother shake his
head, incredulous that she could still be optimistic after nearly eight weeks.

‘Can she hear us?’ She searched the nurse’s face, her bullshit radar on.

Ann shrugged. ‘Lots of patients who’ve woken from a coma told me they were conscious of voices, music and smells.’ She chuckled. ‘One man gave out hell about one of the
doctors’ overpowering aftershave. He was determined to wake up just to tell him to switch to a different brand or he’d never get a woman.’ She stepped back, made a note on the
clipboard and put it back on the end of the bed. ‘I’m all done now. You can get on with your beauty treatment. Enjoy, Suzie.’

Jess pulled up a chair and poured lotion into her palm and massaged it into her mother’s right hand. ‘Did you hear that? Is it true, Mum? Can you hear me? Can you smell this nice
cream? I wish you’d give me a sign. Just a blink or a twitch wouldn’t kill you, would it? If this was a Hollywood movie, you’d wake up now and make some stupid joke, you know
that, right?’ Jess’s eyes drifted from her mother’s soft hand to her own bitten nails. ‘I could do with a manicure myself, and a haircut. Still, there’ll be plenty of
time for that when you wake up. I just want you to get better, Mum, we all do. Even Mandy phones to see how you’re doing.’

She chuckled, amused by her aunt’s uncharacteristic concern.

‘I wonder what she’s after. You haven’t got some family jewels stashed away, have you?’ Jess thought of her layabout grandfather and long-suffering granny who’d
struggled to make ends meet. ‘Probably not. She wanted to come see you, but don’t worry: I told her there wasn’t much point at the moment.’

Jess started to file her mother’s nails. ‘Sorry your son hasn’t been in much. It’s not because he doesn’t care. Noel just can’t handle seeing you like this.
Sharon says all men are useless when it comes to health issues. She told me that my dear brother-in-law keeled over in the labour ward. Did you know that?’ Jess grinned. ‘They had to
drag Keith outside and, after bringing in that fancy camera of his, the only photos they have are the ones the midwife took with her phone.

‘Sharon will be in tomorrow after she’s dropped Bobby to school. He’s drawn another picture for you. Try not to get too excited.’ Jess glanced up at her nephew’s
previous efforts over the bed. Still, he was only four. ‘Nora was on again.’ Jess smiled as she thought of how supportive her mother’s old friend had been. ‘She’s fed
up that she lives so far away, but she’ll be up to see you on Wednesday. I didn’t realise how close you two still were until this happened. Aileen sends her love, too. She’s a
great neighbour, making sure the bins are emptied and keeping an eye on Noel, slipping him pies and scones. Just as well, as he’s worse than useless. You really spoil him, you know
that?’

Jess went round the bed to do the other hand. ‘Sorry, no polish. They need to be able to see the colour of your nails for some reason.’ As she started to massage the cream into her
mother’s other hand, she froze, convinced she’d felt Suzie’s fingers move. She stared at her mother’s hand, but it lay perfectly still in hers. Jess sighed. Her imagination
was working overtime. She’d really have to stop getting her hopes up. She knew everyone thought so. They didn’t understand why she came in twice a day.

‘She doesn’t even know you’re there,’ her aunt had said, rather cruelly, Jess thought.

‘You don’t know that, Mandy,’ she’d snapped. ‘Anyway, I want to be there.’

Jess glanced at the clock, realising she should make a move. She had a deadline to meet. Working as a freelance journalist was a dream job. Writing articles for three different papers and a
travel piece for a monthly magazine meant lots of variety. Today her copy about Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way was due in. She was quite pleased with it but wanted to run through it one last
time before emailing it to Marilyn, the editor. The photos that would go with it would look wonderful in the quality, glossy magazine pages, although the one taken of her wasn’t the best.
Even she could see that, despite her smile, she looked drawn and anxious.

‘All done.’ Jess kissed her mother’s cheek and stood up to go. She stared hard at her for a moment, searching for any sign of change, willing her mum to move – but
nothing. She sighed. ‘See you later.’

In the tiny loo down the corridor, Jess splashed her face with water and dragged a brush through her hair. She looked at her reflection, noting that she was as pale as her mother and almost as
skinny. Spending most of your time in a hospital and living in fear did that to you. After applying a layer of balm to her dry, cracked lips, she straightened her sweatshirt and, shoulders back,
went out to the car park.

‘How’re you doing?’ Katie asked later that evening as they settled in a corner of a city centre bar with two glasses of lager.

‘I’m grand,’ Jess said, seeing the worry in her friend’s eyes. She cracked a smile. ‘I should have that tattooed across my forehead.’

‘Tell me honestly.’

‘Honestly? I’m broken-hearted, Katie.’

Katie squeezed her hand. ‘It sucks, Jess. It seems so wrong, your lovely, bubbly mum just lying there.’

‘It doesn’t even look like her,’ Jess said. ‘I don’t want to be there, but I don’t want to leave her, either. Does that make sense?’

‘Yeah, but maybe you shouldn’t go in quite as often,’ Katie said gently.

‘If
I
don’t go, who will? Sharon’s always running round after her precious son, and Noel finds it too upsetting. As if
I’m
having a bundle of laughs.’ She was fed up with her brother and sister but she couldn’t say that. They needed each other right now. She put down the glass with a
shaky hand and splashed beer across the table.

‘Hey, calm down,’ Katie urged. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘You didn’t, I’m sorry.’ Jess pulled her lank hair back and massaged her temples. She could feel a headache building. ‘It’s just that Mum may as well be dead
the way Noel talks, and sometimes I think that he and Sharon would prefer that. It would be easier and tidier if she died and we could have a funeral and move on.’

Katie’s eyes widened, shocked. ‘That’s not true, Jess. Of course they care. We all deal with stuff differently and you and your mum were very close.’

‘Are,’ Jess snapped.

‘Sorry?’

‘You used the past tense.’

‘Aw, Jess, I didn’t mean—’

‘I know,’ Jess said, feeling weary. Why was she having a go at Katie when she’d only ever been kind and supportive? ‘Sorry. Truth is, I keep doing it too. Maybe
they’re right. Maybe I should give up on her, but I just can’t accept that she’s gone, Katie.’

‘Of course you can’t and you shouldn’t.’

‘Really?’ Jess looked up at her to check her friend wasn’t placating her.

‘No way.’ Katie was adamant. ‘The doctors haven’t given up, have they?’

Jess thought about that. ‘They don’t commit themselves one way or the other. It’s all “wait and see” and “still early days”.’

‘There you go, then, and they don’t even know your mum. She’s a fighter, Jess, and you can bet she’ll fight bloody hard to find her way back to you.’

Jess had to smile at that. If Mum was even the slightest bit aware of what was going on, then she
would
fight. ‘You’re right. Thanks, Katie.’