The Birthday Party (47 page)

They were astonishingly fast. Less than ten minutes, although it felt like a lifetime to Louis. His mother was amazing. She
held Louis’ hand while he held Tyger’s, soothed him, reassured him. And when the police arrived, she was so incredibly dignified;
it brought tears to his eyes.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said. ‘You sort your girl out.’

The ambulance-men were not impressed with what they found. Tyger wasn’t responding at all. Her stats were worrying.

‘We need to get her to a big hospital. We can’t deal with a head injury like that here,’ the paramedic told him. ‘I’ll get
the air ambulance.’

Louis shut his eyes. How the hell could he have let this happen?

His mother stroked his arm. He threw it off.

‘This is all for you,’ he shouted at her. ‘I’ve sacrificed her for you.’

Melinda blinked at him, her face crumpled and haggard.

‘I didn’t ask you to,’ she whispered.

The air ambulance landed in the field. A young doctor quickly examined Tyger, and any hope that Louis had that the paramedic
had over-reacted was soon extinguished.

‘She might well have a sub-cranial bleed. We can’t waste time,’ the doctor told him. ‘We’ll take her to Bristol.’

To Louis’ surprise, he was able to think clearly. Raf was in Bath. He could get to the hospital, probably before they did.

‘Is there room for me? I don’t drive.’

The medic nodded and Louis followed as they lifted Tyger on board. She was strapped to a stretcher, her head held in a brace.

Louis scrambled in and sat in the seat the pilot indicated was for him. As the helicopter took off, he watched down below
as his mother and Bernie were escorted into a squad car. There were flashing lights everywhere. He’d phoned the guys from
the rescue centre, who were also on their way, ready to whisk the inhabitants of the barn off to a safe haven. Then he looked
away, the puppies forgotten, and mentally urged the helicopter on, knowing that the one thing they didn’t have was time.

The helicopter chopped its way relentlessly through the night sky. The medic kept a constant watch on Tyger, checking her
stats repeatedly and keeping in contact with the hospital.

‘There’s a trauma team ready to take her in as soon as we get there,’ he told Louis. ‘She’ll need a scan.’

Louis nodded, mute with fear. As soon as they landed he needed to call Raf. Tell him he’d probably got his daughter killed.
And all for the sake of a few bloody puppies. A few puppies who were even now being taken to the warmth and comfort of some
sanctuary, while she lay there so pale and still, he couldn’t imagine her ever coming back to life. He didn’t let go of her
hand, just in case she could feel him. Every now and again he picked it up and kissed it, as if he could somehow breathe life
back into her.

The medic caught his eye. He gave him a brief sympathetic smile, then looked away.

It was all systems go as soon as they landed. Louis trailed in the wake of the trauma team, feeling completely helpless as
they loaded Tyger onto a trolley, pushing her from the landing pad in through the doors of the hospital, shouting instructions
at each other, comparing stats, grilling the medic who had just disembarked, grabbing the clipboard from him, talking into
their radios. Louis recognised the choreography from the mayhem at a live gig. Amidst the chaos, everyone had their job, and
they stuck to it. It restored his faith a little. No one seemed to be panicking. No one seemed to be giving up hope. They
were all totally focused.

A pair of double door slammed shut in front of him as Tyger was taken in for assessment. He had to get in touch with Raf,
let the rest of the family know. He couldn’t go through this on his own.

He picked up the phone to ring, but a huge lump rose in his throat. To his horror, he was crying. A nurse came up and put
a hand on his shoulder.

‘Would you like me to call for you?’

He nodded, unable to speak, then sat on a chair with his head in his hands. How long? How long before he knew what was going
to happen?

The Rafferty machine swung smoothly into action as soon as the news was out, almost taking Louis’ breath away. Before he knew
it, Raf had arrived, escorted by Dickie and Genevieve. Tony and Polly were on their way down from London, Polly on her mobile
booking hotels in Bristol for them and Coco and Violet.

It was like being part of some mafia clan and he felt rather helpless. He might have married into the family, but he wasn’t
part of any decision-making process. It was almost as if he was superfluous. Then again, perhaps he should be grateful he
was being overlooked, and not blamed.

Not yet.

Violet broke down completely when she hung up the phone after talking to Tony.

Tyger, her baby sister, was lying in hospital. Tony had sounded grim. It was serious, not an over-inflated Rafferty drama.

She’d told him she’d be fine, that she’d be able to drive, that she didn’t want Benedict, who was taking Coco, to come and
pick her up, because she couldn’t face him, not after what had happened between her and Justine. Even though she was fairly
certain he had no idea of what had gone on.

She started to look for her keys, but she couldn’t find them. A random image of Tyger with her Mr Potato Head, sticking all
the features on in the wrong place and laughing her head off, popped into her mind. For some reason it made her cry even harder.

Where was Mum? Where the bloody hell was their mother? Mothers were supposed to be there whatever happened. They weren’t supposed
to disappear off the face of the earth. They were supposed to be there for ever and ever to pick up the pieces.

Only Delilah wasn’t there. And Violet didn’t think she could cope with this on her own. Her little sister, so bright, so vibrant,
so full of life, might die. Tony had made it clear. She was critical.

At last. She’d found the keys, under a magazine on the coffee table. But she was sobbing so hard she didn’t think she’d be
able to drive. Maybe she could call Tony back, get him to send a car …

Or maybe …

There was one person she knew who would get her through this. One person who would be at her side, who would understand.

She picked up the phone again, hesitated for a moment, then dialled.

Justine was laying out her packing on the bed in the spare room. She had two huge suitcases open, and was carefully going
through her wardrobe, selecting which items would go best with the clothes she’d had couriered round. She didn’t have time
to try everything on. She didn’t even bother to unwrap what she’d bought from the tissue paper. She rarely chose a mistake.

As she zipped up the lid on one of the cases, her mobile rang. Her heart jumped when she saw who it was.

She answered cautiously.

‘Hello?’

‘Justine?’ Violet was sobbing. ‘I need you. I need you to take me to Bristol. Tyger’s had an accident.’

‘OK, sweetheart.’ Justine grabbed her bag without a second thought. ‘Where are you? I’m on my way.’

‘I’m at home. Oh God, Justine. What if she dies … ?’

‘She won’t die. I’ll be … fifteen minutes, max.’

In her living room, Violet hung up the phone. She grabbed a few things and shoved them in a carrier bag. Tears were still
pouring down her face. But a tiny bit of her felt reassured.

Justine was coming for her. Justine was going to be with her. What did this mean?

She ran down the stairs and out onto the pavement. She shivered in the cool of the night air, looking anxiously down the end
of the street for the lights of Justine’s car. And when she pulled up, and jumped out, and took Violet in her arms and told
her it was going to be all right, Violet realised the truth.

She loved her.

Louis looked up as Raf walked through the double doors into the relatives’ waiting room. He stood up and Raf touched him on
the shoulder.

‘Do we know how it’s going?’

There was no reproach. This wasn’t the time for recrimination.

‘Not yet,’ answered Louis.

The minutes seemed like hours while they waited for news. And when the neurological consultant appeared through the double
doors, he headed straight for Raf. Tyger’s identity was no secret. They knew exactly who they were dealing with.

‘The CAT scan shows she had a sub-cranial haemorrhage resulting from her injury,’ the consultant told them. ‘That’s basically
a bleed inside the brain, which is building up pressure. We can’t allow that to go on, as it may cause damage to the tissue.
We need to operate to relieve that pressure, drain off the bleed.’

‘You’re going to operate now?’

‘We can’t afford to wait.’

‘And what’s the prognosis?’

‘It’s hard to say, I’m afraid. The brain is very delicate and complex. But we’ve got a great team here.’

As Raf and Louis took in this information, Tony and Polly arrived.

Raf turned to Tony. ‘I don’t care what it takes, we need to find Delilah.’

Tony nodded. ‘I agree. Polly’s been emailing her but we’ve got no idea if she will check her account, if at all. So our only
option is the press.’ He looked at his watch. ‘If I get on the case straight away, we can get the late editions.’

Raf nodded curtly. Louis wondered if he was allowed any say at all in what happened, but decided he’d better keep quiet. He
didn’t care who knew what when. All he was worried about was whether Tyger would be all right. He imagined them lifting her
onto the operating table – would they take off her wedding ring? What would happen to it? He allowed himself to focus on this
image. It was so much easier to cope with than the thought of all that equipment, the computer screens, the trays of gleaming
instruments, the tubes and bags of blood—

‘Are you all right?’ a nurse asked him kindly, and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears from falling.

Not long after midnight, Coco and Benedict arrived, followed by Violet and Justine. They all gathered in the waiting room,
silent, subdued, only speaking to ask if anyone wanted something from the drinks machine down the corridor.

It was going to be a long night.

D
elilah gradually came to at the sound of the curtain rings scraping along the pole. A sliver of morning sun fell on her face.
She sat up, groggy with sleep, and smiled as William put a cup of strong, dark Irish tea on the bedside table. She wondered
how long he had been up. The bed next to her was cold, and he was already dressed in his jeans and one of his trademark faded
sweatshirts. She stretched and yawned.

‘What’s the time?’

‘Just gone ten.’

‘What?’ She threw back the bedding with alarm. ‘I’d better get on with the breakfasts. Why didn’t you wake me?’

‘Relax! Our guests are all fed and watered and have gone off to Kinsale for the day. They’re having dinner with friends on
the way home. So we, young lady, are going to take the day off.’

He sat on the bed next to her.

‘A day off?’ she murmured.

He laughed.

‘You didn’t come here expecting a holiday, did you?’ He put out a finger and traced the line of her collar-bone. ‘Seriously,
Dee – I can’t tell you how grateful I am. No way could I have done it without you. The guests would have been eating cornflakes
and beans on toast if it had been left to me. You’re a star.’

‘You know what? I’ve loved every minute of it. This house is … special.’

‘I know.’ His face fell. ‘And I really don’t want to think
about what’s going to happen next. There’s no way my mother is going to manage.’

They both fell silent. In the short time they’d spent together, they’d both been living in the present. They hadn’t talked
about the past, or the future.

William stood up.

‘Let’s not worry about it today. Today we’re going to Dingle. It’s the perfect weather to see Fungi.’

‘What?’

‘You don’t know Fungi?’

‘As in … mushroom?’

‘Nope. As in dolphin.’ He flicked back the sheets. ‘So come on. Put your best dolphin-spotting outfit on. And remember you
might get wet.’

Delilah scrambled out of bed, laughing. She was used to this with William – never being quite sure what was going to happen
next.

‘I’ll go off into Killorglin and get some picnic supplies. I want you dressed and ready by the time I get back.’

Delilah gave him a mock salute.

‘Yes, sir …’

She stood in front of the window and looked out onto the garden. It was a perfect Irish morning, the grass still wet with
dew, the sun beaming down through the puffs of white cloud tinged with purple. As William drove his Mercedes out of the drive
and down the pitted track, she thought how easy it had been to step into her new life. There was nothing here to remind her
of her old one. They had been working round the clock to keep Gortnaflor and its guests afloat. Delilah had loved every minute
of it. And William had been profoundly grateful. It was hard for him, driving back and forth to the hospital to check on his
mother, trying to get on top of all the things that needed doing. Yet he still found time to show his appreciation.