When Evil Wins (5 page)

Janus punched his voice mail number into his phone and put it to his ear. He listened to the message. After it had finished he shook his head, surely there had been some mistake. He punched the number to access his voice mail once again and listened intently.

Immediately the message finished he ran to his car. There must be some mistake, he kept telling himself.

Janus drove to Southend Hospital’s Accident and Emergency department as fast as he could. It was not far from the spiritualist meeting he’d just left and fortunately it would only take him a few minutes to get there. He still couldn't believe the message though.

After finding somewhere to park he got out of his car and ran to A&E’s reception. He ignored the queue and looked about the room for the first nurse or doctor he could see. Spotting a nurse who was trying to settle a young mother with a very pale toddler in her arms he butted into their conversation.

“Please tell me where my father is. How is he?” Janus stammered.

“Excuse me, sir!” the nurse said, glaring at him, “I’m just dealing with this young lady, can you please hold on?” Turning back to the young woman the nurse continued, “Sorry about this. Please tell me again, what the problem is.”

Janus grabbed the nurse's shoulder turning the woman to face him. “Please, I need to know where my father is. What has happened to him?”

The nurse firmly removed Janus's hand from her shoulder saying, “Please, sir, after I have finished talking to this young lady I will answer your questions.” The nurse turned to face the young woman once more.

Janus stood himself between the nurse and the young woman. “Please, my father is Andrzej Malik, I've just been told he has been brought here.”

The nurse recognised the name. A few hours earlier a man in his late fifties had been brought in with serious injuries, injuries that were more than likely going to be fatal. The nurse pushed Janus to one side.

“Sorry, Kim, I'm going to have to answer this gentleman's questions. If you can hold on for a few minutes I'll be back to talk with you very shortly and I’m sure we can sort out Abby’s problems.”

The young woman nodded.

The nurse turned back to Janus. “Are you related to Mr Malik?” she asked.

“Yes… yes: I'm his son,” Janus said.

“Mr Malik, please come with me.” The nurse took Janus to a small room off the A&E reception area. “Mr Malik. Your father is in surgery now. He's had a terrible, terrible accident and that's all I know. If you turn left out of here and then go up the stairs at the end of the hall you will find yourself in the Intensive Care Unit. Someone at the nurse's station will be able to tell you more. I'm so sorry. Please excuse me.” With this last comment the nurse left Janus.

Janus paused for a moment attempting to understand everything that had happened, but he couldn't make any sense of it.

He made his way to the Intensive Care Unit. His progress was dreamlike and slow, his mind was racing but he didn't know what to think.

How was it possible that his dad had had an accident? His dad was always more than careful. Nothing would come to mind. None of the scenarios he conjured up concluded with his father receiving potentially fatal injuries. What had gone on?

He reached the nurses’ station in the Intensive Care Unit.

He spoke to a person behind the desk. “I'm Janus Malik, I think my father is here,” he said slowly. Everything he did and said was slow and drawn out. Like living in an atmosphere made of honey, though the reality was not so sweet.

“Ah! Mr Malik. We've been expecting you,” the nurse replied, seemingly in the same slow and drawn out manner.

“Can you tell me what’s going on? I think my father is here,” Janus said.

“Mr Malik, I think you need to sit down,” the nurse behind the counter replied. “You’ve had a great shock.”

“My father is here?” Janus asked, the slow motion continuing.

“No, Mr Malik, your father is in surgery,” the nurse said.

“Will he come here?” Janus asked.

“Yes, Mr Malik, after his surgery. Please sit down.”

“Will he be alright?” Janus said, still on a kind of autopilot. He felt clammy, every part of his body seemed to have increased in weight and his muscles were struggling to support him.

“After surgery your father will be brought here,” the nurse behind the counter said kindly, but without giving any indications as to his father’s situation.

“Thank you,” Janus said. “Where do you want me to sit?”

The nurse pointed to the seats which lined the wall opposite the nurse's station. “Just over there, Mr Malik.”

Janus walked away from the desk towards the seats and finding an empty one he sat down. Two hours on Janus was still sat in his seat, still not moving, just thinking, trying to guess what had happened.

“Mr Malik.”

Janus didn't respond.

“Mr Malik?”

Janus looked up.

“I think you may find this will help a bit.” The nurse handed Janus a cup of tea.

Janus took it. “Thank you very much,” he said.

“It's not a problem, Mr Malik.” The nurse smiled then turned away and made her way back to the station.

Eventually a man in green scrubs wandered up to the desk and talked to the nurses behind it. After a short chat one of the nurses pointed in Janus's direction. The man looked at Janus, whose head was hung low as he stared blindly into the empty plastic cup. The man walked over to him.

“Excuse me, Mr Malik,” the man said.

Janus looked up, his mind still elsewhere.

“It is, Mr Malik, isn't it?” the man in the green scrubs said.

“Yes,” Janus answered, his mind coming back into focus very slowly.

“I'm Mr Greensteed, I've just finished surgery on your father.”

“Is he alive?” Janus asked.

“He's very much alive, and stable, thank the Lord. But he will have to remain in the I.C.U for a while.”

“What happened?”

“Well, as far as I can tell, the accident removed his left kidney and some of his intestine. It also made deep gashes in his back along with some severe puncture wounds. Unfortunately the tissue the scaffold pipe removed was unsalvageable. So we've had to patch him up as he is. Your father's constitution has more than helped him. He is an extremely resilient man for his age. I don't doubt he'll easily get used to just the one kidney from now on, and I don't think it'll affect him too much. There's other internal stitching we've had to do to make good his intestinal tract and he's also suffered a collapsed lung but I'm sure he'll recover given time. Your father is very lucky.”

Janus stood up and before he could help himself he hugged the surgeon. “Thank you very much, sir.”

“Mr Malik, your father is not out of the dark yet. He's had to be transfused twice, so far, and it's possible, though fairly unlikely, he could suffer further internal bleeding. His body has gone through a massive trauma.”

“But he's alive,” Janus stated, trying to get to grips with everything he'd been told so far.

“Yes. Very much so,” the surgeon replied.

“Thank you very much, Mr Greensteed.”

“No problem, Mr Malik. Please remember though, your father is not out of the dark yet.” Greensteed reiterated attempting to get the enormity of the injuries across to the man’s son.

“Of course I'll remember that,” Janus said.

“He'll have to stay in the I.C.U for at least three weeks, but this may change depending on his prognosis.”

“Thank you again. When can I see him?” Janus said.

“I think the day after tomorrow would be fine,” Greensteed answered.

Janus left the hospital in a better state than when he’d entered. He wasn't happy but at least his father was alive. He would find out what happened when he went back to the hospital in the next few days.

Janus jumped into his car and made his way home wishing that he’d never attended the spiritualist meeting in the first place.

Janus felt sure that if he’d been available for his father's job from the outset, the accident would never have happened.

Three weeks had passed since his father's surgery and a week and a half since his father had been transferred to the surgical ward after the operation.

Janus knew his Dad was now almost over the worst of his trauma. He had come to this conclusion because his father had started to moan about how he hated hospitals and how he would be much better off in his own home.

During the time of his father's convalescence Janus had visited every day he could and had informed all their clients that, for a time, Malik Plumbing & Decorating would not be taking on any more contracts.

After the first week of his father's recovery period Janus decided to broach the subject of the accident. He wanted to find out as many details as possible before engaging a solicitor and taking Regent Scaffolding to task for shoddy workmanship.

“Father,” Janus started in Polish, “do you know what happened?”

“Of course I know what happened; the scaffolding collapsed when I was on it,” his father replied.

“Did you notice anything unusual or wrong with the scaffolding?”

“Son, if I had noticed anything unusual with the scaffolding I would not have gone up the ladder in the first place.”

“Okay Father.”

“Janus, if you're thinking this is anything other than an unfortunate accident then don't. We have never done ill by anyone and no one wishes us ill. Let me put this down as a lesson learnt. Now please go, I'm feeling so tired. I need to rest.”

“Okay, Dad. I'll see you tomorrow,” Janus finished in English.

It didn’t matter what his dad had said, Janus wasn’t going to leave it at that and he had already booked an appointment with the manager of Regent Scaffolding.

Leaving the hospital he drove directly to the offices of the scaffolding contractor. He pulled his car onto the business’s, almost khaki, concrete forecourt. It was a square area with worn and broken white lines demarcating the parking bays and was blocked off by a wooden panelled fence on the right. There were some mobile offices on the opposite side of the forecourt to the fence, all painted white with black plastic guttering and downpipes; only the flat grey-green roofing edges detracted from the non-colour scheme.

The whole place was glazed with a winter’s drizzle though the rain was not falling at this time.

At the rear of the site was industrial scale shelving that held the planks and metal tubes of the business’s mainstay. As he got out of his car he noticed Jack Randall walking towards him, obviously Jack had heard about his meeting with the boss.

“Mr Malik,” Jack said as he held out his hand to Janus, “I'm so sorry about…” Jack stopped speaking when he saw the look on Janus's face.

As Janus saw the honest concern in Jack's eyes he recalled his father’s comments from the hospital bed.

Janus took Jack's hand and shook it warmly. He had known Jack since his teens.

“Mr Malik,” Jack tried again, “we are all so sorry about what happened to your dad. Is he going to be alright?”

“Yes Jack,” Janus sighed, already knowing what had happened was not the fault of any of the members of Jack's scaffolding crew. “Jack, is there anything you can tell me about the day you put the scaffolding up?”

“Nothin' special, Mr Malik. It was just a normal job. All of us are truly sorry about what happened.”

“Yes, Jack, I know you are,” Janus said.

“One thing does spring to mind though, Mr Malik, it was raining and it was bitterly cold that night. It might've 'ad something to do with it.”

By the time Jack had finished talking the rest of his crew had left the staff canteen. They had seen Janus get out of his car and had come out into the yard to see what would transpire.

As they stood there shuffling around they hung their heads low looking at the ground, occasionally raising their eyes to see if they could gauge what was being said between the two men. Janus looked over Jack's shoulder at the crew.

“Jack.”

“Yes, Mr Malik,” Jack responded quickly.

“Tell Sean Regent I won't be needing to talk with him.”

Jack let out a huge sigh, “Thank you, Mr Malik, thank you.” Jack grabbed Janus's hand and shook it hard as he now knew Janus had decided his crew had not been responsible for the accident.

Janus turned to leave but before getting into his car he turned back to face Jack Randall, “I'll let you know how my father gets on,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr Malik,” Jack said once again, waving.

After the talk with Jack Randall in the first week of his father's recovery Janus knew he would not be looking for anyone to blame, it was, as his dad had said, an accident.

***

Throughout the second week, now that there were no jobs to do and the fact that his father was not looking over his shoulder, Janus decided to attempt to hone his clairvoyant skills.

He wasn't sure how or where to start; he knew he had an ability, but didn't have the faintest idea as to how to harness it.

Janus understood that, settings permitting, he could see things that he ought not to be able to see, through no effort he applied.

He read all the literature he could find and he attempted little exercises at first. Sometimes he achieved things he thought were impossible and other times he completely failed.

Eventually he came to the conclusion that at some stage he would need further guidance, but now wasn't the time to follow this path; he had his father to consider.

***

“Son,” Janus's father called out in Polish across the ward as Janus entered. “You've got to get me out of here. It's been three weeks of pure hell.”

“Father, will you please quiet down.” Janus replied in Polish, quietly but firmly, as he approached his father's bed, “there are other people in here who are trying to get better.”

“Son, I need to go, I need to get out of here,” his father stated again.

Janus could see his father's agitation, “I'll find out what's happening.” He walked over to the nurse's station.

“Excuse me?” Janus said.

“Yes, Mr Malik. How can I help?” the staff nurse sitting behind the desk replied.

“I was wondering… well actually my dad was wondering when he can leave. He's finding it a bit difficult in here now. Please don't get me wrong, it's not the care or anything.”

The staff nurse smiled, “Don't worry, Mr Malik, it's always a good sign when our patients want to leave. We don't take it personally… well, not always.” The nurse winked and Janus smiled back. “He'll have to stay tonight though and then we can check with the consultant on the ward round tomorrow morning.”

“What time is the ward round?” Janus asked.

“It can be anytime, depending upon what's cropped up. But usually they try and fit it in mid-morning, sometime around 10.00 a.m.”

“Thank you.” Janus crossed the ward back to his father's bed.

“Dad, you've got to stay here tonight, but I'll be back tomorrow morning and the consultant will let us both know what's happening then.”

“Janus, I don't like it here. I need home. You tell the doctor. Yes?” Andrzej Malik responded in his pidgin English.

“Of course, Dad,” Janus said and turned to leave.

“Janus,” his dad said once more, “I need home now. No more here, please.”

“Dad, I'll be back tomorrow morning,” Janus reassured.