A finer end - Deborah Crombie [72]
She’d added, “I don’t want to worry you, but Andrew’s behaving quite oddly. He seems so irrational.… Just watch yourself, okay?”
Jack walked back to the ICU, mulling it over. He’d been concerned about Andrew for Winnie’s sake, but not his own. Andrew was a schoolteacher, he reminded himself—an academic unlikely to have bloodied a nose even in primary school. If Andrew wanted to have a go at him, then let him.
“She’s been restless since you left,” Maggie informed him as soon as he reached the ward. “Encourage her to wake up, to talk to you, to let you know she can hear you.”
Jack pulled his chair as close to the bed as he could, and when he reached out to stroke Winnie’s cheek, he saw that his hand was trembling. “I hear you missed me,” he said, trying for a light touch. “I always knew I was irresistible.” He took her hand in his and kissed it. “I won’t leave you unless I must—you know that. But I need you to wake up, to talk to me. I miss you, Winnie, and I need to know you can hear me. Wake up, darling, please. Talk to me.”
Had he felt her hand move? Winnie’s eyelids had fluttered, he was sure of it. Then she blinked, once, twice, and opened her eyes. He saw awareness flood back into her gaze, then she focused on his face and he knew that she knew him.
So intense was the rush of relief that his throat tightened and his eyes brimmed. He bowed his head, and in that moment felt her hand grip his convulsively.
When he looked up, her eyes were wide with panic. She turned her head from side to side, reaching up with her free hand to scrabble at the tubes.
Maggie was there in an instant, restraining her, calming her. “We’ll get the breathing tube out in a tick, dear. You won’t be needing it now you’re awake. Now take a deep breath and breathe out when I tell you.”
Jack tightened his hold on Winnie’s hand as the nurse slipped the tube out on Winnie’s exhalation.
“I know it hurts,” said Maggie. “I’m going to give you a little sip of water and that will help.” She fetched a cup and held the straw to Winnie’s lips. “Not too much at once, now, dear. When we see you’re handling your liquids well, we’ll take out the stomach tube.”
Winnie released the straw and sank back into the pillow, closing her eyes.
“Just rest, darling,” Jack said, his voice still unsteady. “You’re going to be fine.”
But after a moment she opened her eyes and tried to speak. When no sound emerged, she touched her throat and tried again. “What … happened?” Her voice was the barest whisper. “What time is it?”
Jack looked at Maggie, who nodded. He said gently, “You had an accident. On your bike. You’ve been in hospital for two days.”
“Days?”
“You’ve had a bump on the head, but you’re going to be fine.”
“I can’t remember … I was going somewhere—something I had to do.…”
“Don’t worry. You will. But now you have to rest.”
With an obedience that moved him deeply, Winnie closed her eyes. Soon her breathing became slower and more regular.
“She’s not—” Jack asked Maggie, panicked. “She hasn’t gone under again, has she?”
Maggie smiled. “It’s just a normal nap. That’s a good thing. She’s going to be very weak at first. But she’s over the hump.”
“But will she remember the accident, or what happened before?”
“The human brain is a funny thing. Sometimes the gaps never fill in. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Jack?”
Winnie had opened her eyes.
“Yes, darling. I’m here.”
“You came to dinner.… Andrew was there.… There was something I had to tell you about Andrew. Why can’t I remember?”
With a quick glance at the cardiac monitor, Maggie interposed. “That’s enough for now. You need to rest, dear, and your Jack will be waiting just outside for you to wake up.”
Jack took his cue, kissing Winnie’s cheek gently before he left the ward. He sank into the nearest chair in the waiting area and gave himself over to a flood of profound relief and gratitude.
But after a moment, he stiffened, frowning. What hope did they have of finding out exactly what had happened, and why, when Winnie had clearly lost a day?
CHAPTER TWELVE