Thursdays in the Park (17 page)

She looked over at Ray. ‘She mustn’t go to sleep, we’ve got to keep her awake.’

‘Give her to me, that’ll wake her.’ He took Ellie, but she seemed not to notice the change. Then the little girl suddenly looked white as a sheet and vomited all over Ray’s shirt.

‘Oh, God, Ray, I’m sorry. But that’s not a good sign.’ Jeanie was feeling as if a vice were tightening round her chest.
Let her be all right, please, let her be all right
, she intoned to an invisible universe. ‘Hurry, we’ve got to get her there as soon as possible.’

Jeanie took Ellie as they pushed through the doors of the
Whittington A & E. She rushed up to the receptionist and told her what had happened.

‘She’s just vomited, she’s sleepy,’ she added. ‘I’m a nurse, please can you get someone immediately.’

Time stopped for Jeanie. There was nothing now in the world but watching this little face, so unutterably dear to her, watching for any tiny nuance in expression, colour, response; nothing but the constant mantra that became central to every thought, her plea to any power for assistance. Within seconds a young doctor had appeared from the treatment area and was showing them to a cubicle.

‘I’ll stay out here with Dylan, go and wash this off,’ Ray said, pulling his vomit-soaked shirt away from his chest. Jeanie nodded, although she would have liked him to come. The responsibility of this sick child seemed overwhelmingly hers.

Things moved fast. The doctor checked Ellie out, called another doctor, clearly senior to the first and possibly a registrar, who got a line into her small arm and fixed it with tape. Ellie just lay there, her eyes not focusing, her hand resting in Jeanie’s.

‘It looks as if there might be some brain swelling, but we want to check what’s going on.’ The registrar, a tall, ginger-haired man of about forty with a pale, tired face, hardly glanced at Jeanie. ‘When did this happen?’

‘About forty minutes ago I think; I wasn’t there. Are you sending her for a scan?’

‘Yes.’ He met her eye, obviously deciding how much she could be told.

‘I used to be a nurse.’

‘OK. Well, we need to do a CT scan to check for a bleed. Lucky you got her here so quickly. If there is a problem, we should be in time to fix it. Are you her mother?’

‘Grandmother.’

‘Right. The nurse will take you up in a minute, and I’ll see you later.’

Jeanie asked the nurse to get Ray.

‘They’re taking her up for a scan. Don’t wait, please, take Dylan home. I’ll call you.’

‘I’ll come back.’ It wasn’t a question, and Jeanie didn’t argue.

‘They should know . . . Alex and your daughter,’ Ray said, never taking his eyes off the little girl on the gurney, his shirt wet from where he had washed off the vomit.

She nodded, everything forgotten in the panic. Despite the sign banning mobiles, she flicked to her daughter’s number. It was on answer. She left a message to come at once, but that didn’t seem enough. She rang George. His phone was also on answer.

‘George, Ellie’s had a fall and she’s being checked out at the Whittington. I can’t use my mobile, so can you ring Chanty and Alex and get them to come at once.’ She wanted to add that their granddaughter was all right, to be reassuring, but there was no evidence yet that she was. Jeanie knew when a doctor was worried.

‘Well, good news.’ The ginger-haired doctor, whose name was Rob, looked thoroughly relieved. ‘The scan shows she has some brain swelling; it was obviously quite a bang, but there’s no actual bleed.’

Jeanie took her first proper breath since the park. Ellie looked so pale, her eyes open but still no focus to their gaze.

‘We’d like to admit her for twenty-four hours, keep an eye on her. The nurse will organize that – but I think she’ll be fine . . . won’t you, sweetheart?’ He brushed the child’s arm with surprising tenderness. He must have one of his own, Jeanie thought. ‘We’ll keep her lightly sedated.’

Ellie looked up at her. ‘Gin . . . where’s Mummy?’

Jeanie looked at her watch. It was nearly two hours since the accident, and still no sign of anyone.

‘She’s on her way, poppet. I’ll give her another call.’

Determined not to leave the little girl for even a second, she flouted the rules and rang Chanty’s mobile again. There was still no answer. Where was she? Where was everyone? She saw that George had tried to call her four times, but she didn’t bother to listen to the messages. This time he answered, his voice breathless and panicky.

‘I’m just outside the hospital. Where are you?’

‘Still in A & E, but it’s OK, George, I’ll tell you when you get here.’

‘Grandadz.’ Ellie smiled up at George sleepily while Jeanie filled him in.

‘Did you get hold of Chanty or Alex?’

‘Finally. She wasn’t answering her mobile, so I rang
Channel 4 and they were idiotic, couldn’t find her in the building, shilly-shallied until I nearly went down to get her myself. Obviously she was frantic when I did speak to her. She said she’d been in a meeting in Canary Wharf and her phone was on silent. She’s probably on the Tube right now. I left a message for Alex, but no doubt Chanty will talk to him.’ George shifted from one foot to another. ‘Never liked hospitals,’ he stated quietly.

‘Who does?’

‘You must have, you worked in one for years.’

She laughed. ‘I suppose you like the work, not so much the place where you do it. Don’t stay, she’s been sedated and she should sleep now.’ Ellie’s little hand was beginning to relax its grip on her own, her eyelids fluttering softly.

‘You’re going to stay?’

‘Until Chanty comes, yes.’

George looked uncertain. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me here?’

Jeanie shook her head, ‘Go on, go. I’ll let you know if there are any developments.’

He bent to drop a kiss on her head, then loped off. ‘Call me.’

They moved Ellie up to the children’s ward. She slept now, her beautiful face peaceful against the white sheet. Jeanie leant back in the hospital chair they had placed beside the cot and also closed her eyes, wishing her daughter would come.

‘Jeanie?’ Ray stood before her, his face as strained and anxious as George’s had been. ‘How is she?’

‘Oh, Ray, she’s all right. She’s got swelling, but no bleed, the doctor said. They’re keeping her in overnight.’

Ray grinned with relief. ‘Thank God! Are you OK?’

‘Not really, but as long as Ellie is, I don’t give a stuff.’

‘Quite. Where are her parents?’

Jeanie shrugged. ‘On their way, I hope.’

There was a scurry at the ward entrance.

‘Mum . . . Mum, what happened?’ Chanty rushed past Jeanie and Ray, struggling to lower the cot side in order to stroke her child’s hair as she slept and kiss the small face with a passionate ferocity.

‘God . . . is she OK?’ She turned to her mother, ignoring Ray. ‘Tell me.’

Jeanie made her sit down.

‘It was a fall. She hit her head in the playground.’

‘What was she doing?’ There was an accusatory note in her voice that Jeanie saw she was too wound up to control.

‘I wasn’t there. She was with Alex. Ray saw it, though.’

Chanty stared at Ray, comprehension dawning suddenly. ‘You’re the man . . . the . . . man from the playground.’ She faltered, her gaze almost hostile. Ray just nodded. ‘So where’s Alex? I’ve tried him a dozen times but he isn’t answering.’

‘He was going into town to see an important buyer, he said.’

Her daughter took a moment to process this information. ‘He left her?’

Jeanie shot a warning look at Ray. ‘At the time he thought Ellie was OK.’

Chanty nodded. ‘But then she got ill?’

‘We . . . I thought it better to get her checked out. Head injuries can be deceptive; by the time they show any symptoms it can be too late.’

‘I’ll push off,’ Ray whispered, and Jeanie nodded. It was clear his presence was not welcomed by her daughter.

‘Well, thank God you did, Mum. If anything happened to her . . .’ Tears had never come easily to Chanty – she’d been a tough little girl, very self-sufficient, someone who’d always known exactly what she wanted, and usually got it. But now she cried openly.

‘I know, but she’s going to be OK, darling.’

‘What was that man doing here, Mum?’ she demanded suddenly, wiping away her tears with irritation.

‘Ray, his name is Ray. I said, he was there when it happened. He wanted to make sure Ellie was OK.’

‘So that’s the man . . . I thought you weren’t going to meet up with him any more.’

Jeanie tried hard to keep her temper, torn between a childish desire to dump her son-in-law in it by telling Chanty what really happened, and a more mature desire to help her daughter through her distress. Maturity won out.

‘I wasn’t there, darling. Alex asked me to meet him in the park early to collect Ell. He’d come straight from nursery. Ray happened to be there at the same time as Alex. Coincidence.’ She paused. ‘He has a right.’

Chanty nodded agreement, looked at her watch. ‘Where
is
he?’

It was six o’clock when Alex finally put in an appearance. He looked stricken at the sight of his daughter. Ellie was awake, and although still sleepy, seemed more alert than she had since the fall.

‘Daddy . . .’ She reached up to receive her father’s hug.

Alex straightened up and looked at Jeanie. ‘What happened?’

‘She wasn’t right, Alex. She seemed dazed. I thought it best to have her checked out. Then on the way here she vomited.’ She said no more.

Chanty explained to him what Jeanie had told her.

‘So she’s going to be OK? Completely OK?’ Jeanie saw Alex was shaking, his face suddenly white.

‘Sit down, it’s been a shock,’ she told him, and dragged up another chair.

He slumped down, leaning forward over Ellie’s bed, hiding his head in his arms. Jeanie realized he was crying.

‘I should have listened . . . that man told me, he said . . . but I didn’t want to believe it.’

Jeanie saw her daughter’s puzzled look.

‘You mean Ray?’ Chanty asked.

Alex raised his head, and for the first time since she’d known him, Jeanie saw a look of pure vulnerability in the large blue eyes. The heavy mask of self-obsession which normally prevented any real connection with the rest of the world – unless they were talking about him – had fallen away.

‘Yes, Ray. He saw her fall. He warned me, said he knew, and I just told him to bugger off.’

‘Why didn’t you say, Mum?’ Chanty looked a little shame-faced, perhaps remembering her rude distrust of Ray.

Jeanie just shrugged.

For a while Alex lay there, and Chanty observed him, her look hardening as she thought the information through.

‘So you knew Ellie had had a fall, and you knew it could be dangerous, and you just walked away?’ Her tone was steely, made worse by her own overwrought emotions.

Jeanie watched her son-in-law sit up to face the music.

‘I thought she was OK, Chant, she didn’t cry and she seemed fine.’ His tone was unattractively pleading.

‘But you didn’t wait to find out.’

‘I was late for Al Dimitri. He was only in town for a day, passing through to Cannes, and my agent had shown him my work on the Net . . .’

‘Sorry,’ Chanty interrupted coldly. ‘But believe it or not I don’t give a rat’s arse about your sodding work right now. You left our daughter when it was clear she might need medical help.’

‘It wasn’t clear. I promise, it wasn’t clear.’ He looked pleadingly at Jeanie. ‘You were there, you said it was OK for me to go.’

‘It’s not up to my mother to tell you what to do. You’ve never paid attention to her in the past. Mum, please tell me exactly what happened.’

‘Ray saw the fall and because he’s a martial arts expert he
sees falls all the time and is trained to know a good one from a bad one,’ Jeanie began reluctantly. ‘He thought it was a bad bang and he told Alex that. But to be fair, none of us knew whether there was a problem or not. And people make this mistake all the time.’

‘And die as a consequence?’ Chanty snapped.

‘Well, yes . . . sometimes.’

Alex was stricken again. ‘I know, I know I’m to blame.’ He laid his hand next to his child and ran his thumb down her cheek. ‘Isn’t she the most beautiful child in the world? And I walked away. She could have died . . . and I would have been responsible.’

His melodrama was unconvincing to Jeanie, but she could see her daughter softening, as always, at his manipulations. And perhaps – Jeanie gave him the benefit of the doubt – he had been truly shocked by what had happened.

‘She hasn’t died, Alex, she’s going to be fine.’ Jeanie’s tone was practical, cutting through the thickness of his performance. ‘I’m sure you’d have done the best thing when you saw she wasn’t well.’

‘That’s hardly the point though, is it?’ Chanty commented sharply, her husband still not forgiven. ‘You left her.’

‘Most people would probably have thought the same as Alex,’ Jeanie insisted, truthfully. ‘No one likes to make a fuss when there’s no clear evidence for it.’

‘So we have Ray to thank . . .’ Chanty clearly didn’t like this option.

Alex began shifting uncomfortably in his chair, then got
to his feet. He seemed to be about to speak, darting anxious glances at both her and Chanty.