Chapter Fifty

An ambulance clanged its urgent way along the roads in speed to the hospital as the red, angry sun battled with the hard, diamond frost on the pavements. It was a cold and very bright day. People glanced in curiosity as the siren got louder as it passed then in the street before it faded into the distance and they knew that some poor soul was being rushed into casualty.

***

The ambulance men swiftly jumped from the cab and ran round to open the large doors at the back.

“Careful ... Steady there. Move him slowly.”

The patient groaned and a pair of dusty boots peeped out from under the stretcher blanket as the men carried the patient into the hospital with great care and the nursing staff in the Receiving Room moved as one to the scene.

“Bring him in here, please?”

The patient was carried through a narrow corridor into a brightly lit room where medical apparatus was visible everywhere. Awesome and incomprehensive in its importance and the patient was transferred to a small bed on wheels in the centre of the room where the stretcher poles were withdrawn and taken away by the ambulance crew. A young nurse removed the blankets from the man and prepared to undress him. He groaned continuously as she tried to remove his arms carefully from his shirt.

“No time for that Nurse. Cut it from him quickly.”

The senior nurse called out with a more apt approach to the casualties that came to her department. Bleepers were sounding and a grey-haired, white coated man appeared from nowhere; his stethoscope dangling aimlessly around his neck. He took over the situation and the nurses stood aside his stethoscope no longer aimless.

“Get Mr. Stevenson and prepare Theatre Two, immediately,” he barked.

“Yes Sir.”

Another young doctor joined the scene and began to push his hands down onto the patient’s chest as he called for further assistance.

“Cardiac arrest quickly.”

The senior nurse suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a machine to assist the young doctor and the exercise continued in spasms with great urgency. Soon the older doctor joined them and the trio worked on the man’s chest, trying to resuscitate him. They toiled effortlessly and with confidence in every move, but there was an anxiety in the way they looked at each other, as moments passed moment in silent labour and in Theatre Two the staff stood by.

“Alright, Steve I think we’ve done it.”

The young doctor stood erect and stretched his shoulders as the nurse wiped his brow with a swab.

“Yes, He’s O.K. for the moment. I’ll get along to the theatre immediately. Nurse, will you call Sister Vincent, please?”

“I think she has just gone off duty, Sir.” she replied as the doctor wiped his hands on a huckaback towel the nurse had given him.

“Get her NOW nurse,” he snapped. “I shall be waiting in the theatre. What’s the patient’s name?”

No one answered and the junior nurse ran towards the Reception desk.

“WHAT’S THE PATIENT’S NAME?” he demanded again, shouting towards the nurse in Reception who was talking to the companion of the man who had been brought in.

“What’s your friend’s name?” she asked nervously and impatiently, but before he could answer, the Reception Clerk pushed a pink card into the nurse’s hand.

“All the details are there,” she whispered. “I had gathered the information whilst he was being examined.”

The nurse raced back to the Surgeon with her information

***

Mary and Tom were alerted by the police and made their way speedily to the hospital. When they arrived, the Receptionist showed them into a waiting room where the senior nurse came forward to greet them.

“Is my son alright? ...” Mary almost choked on her words as she gabbled them in her excitement to the nurse who was standing beside her and Tom held her shaking hands, tenderly.

“He is still in theatre at the moment, Mrs. Blair. Everything is being done I can assure you. Now can I get you a cup of tea?” Mary could not settle. She walked the length of the room several times before Tom made her sit down when the nurse brought the tea and they sat quietly drinking together, even if her cup rattled on her saucer and she smiled at Tom in an effort to appear brave.

“Mary” ... Tom whispered her name softly and widened his eyes as if to encourage her to be courageous and to assure her that he was with her all the way, but his kindness only made her worse and she sobbed.

“I can’t stand this waiting, Tom. I really can’t stand it.”

“Mary ... Charlie will be alright. He’s in good hands. Can I telephone the others? Will you be O.K. if I leave you for a little while?” He did not want to leave her alone, but he knew that he and Mary were the only ones who knew of the accident and the family should be told. Mary winced at the very mention of Charlie’s name in such a place.

“Yes, I’ll be alright, Tom, thanks ... Thanks for everything.”

“My Darling,” he whispered as he kissed her forehead and left the room.

***

Charlie’s bronzed body lay pathetically outlined on the immaculately white theatre table... so gentle, so masculine and with such obvious latent vitality as he lay so still and vulnerable. Young Mr. Stevenson stood elegant and tall at the theatre table; his green apron tied tightly around his slim waist and with only his eyes apparent between his white mask and cap. He held his latex covered hands in the air as if to conduct an orchestra, rather than to perform a life saving operation and waited for the anaesthetist to give him the sign to begin. A rubber tube was inserted into Charlie’s mouth and his head was gently pulled to one side whilst the anaesthetist checked the pulse in his strong neck.

“Sodium Pentothal?” enquired the surgeon and the anaesthetist nodded. Charlie’s saliva regurgitated in the rubber mouth gag and the anaesthetist regulated his oxygen cylinder.

Sister Vincent had been found and summoned to Theatre Two. She stood with her instrument trolley at the ready and handed the surgeon the towels which had already been sterilised in the autoclave.

“Towel clips ...” Stevenson blinked as he spoke and Sister Vincent snapped them into his hands. “Swabs,” he barked and his request readily and speedily obeyed. ... “Scalpel ...”

He made his first quick and accurate incision. “Make sure those swabs are counted, Sister. I don’t want any mishaps.”

“Yes Sir,” the Sister answered but she had already counted her swabs, used and unused and she knew the drill as she nodded for the nurse to hang the bloody swabs on the marker board. They would the more readily be counted from there.

“Sister, I’d like a copper malleable retractor...”

Sister Vincent handed him the old fashioned instrument which she knew he always used, but she fingered the self retaining retractor with her gloved hand in readiness for the next command. He took the former and inspected the incision he had so neatly made and swabbed it carefully as he did so, but before he could ask for the next instrument, Sister Vincent had it in her hand. She was able to follow his craft as he moved, since she had assisted him so many times in his operations and his skill was always perfect. She could read his mind in what he required and he would never perform an operation without her and would never work with any other Sister in the hospital if he could possible avoid doing so. Mr. Stevenson and Sister Vincent worked so closely together and with such unison and mental contact that it was something quite mystical to watch. Very often they would hardly speak as instrument followed instrument from her hand to his. She called for his brow to be swabbed when she saw it was necessary and had her timing off to a fine art. Doctor Stevenson worked on Charlie for over four hours during which time he had changed his theatre gloves three times.

“Damn it Get a nurse to pick that bloody thing up,” he commanded as he kicked a pair of Spencer Wells artery forceps from under his feet, which he had dropped accidentally.

“Be sure to count it nurse,” he added with his usual precision and accuracy.

***

Eventually he slipped the mask from his mouth and removed his cap. The operation had been completed and the assistant surgeon was suturing the wound as Sister Vincent bound Charlie’s body with strapping before she turned to the anaesthetist.

“Alright?” she enquired and he nodded.

“I’ll leave the mouth gag in until we get him to the ward. Put a kidney dish on the trolley nurse will you please?”

Gloves were snapped away from hands and instruments scooped into a dish for scrubbing and re-sterilisation, ready for further use when required and Theatre Two was closed, to be scrubbed down ready for the next patient and Charlie Blair was wheeled off to the surgical ward.

***

Aggie and Mary sat quietly as Sadie came into the waiting room. She looked thinner than they had expected she would, but her head had healed and her hair covered most of the ‘damage’ Her cheeks were well camouflaged with thick make up but that is what they expected and no questions were asked, however Tom watched her with interest and with a secret that he alone shared and which he would guard with true loyalty.

“I wish Willie was here,” sighed Mary as she tried to look out of the high window but could see nothing but the sky.

“I sent round to the Site for him,” said Aggie, biting her lips nervously as she spoke and Tom looked at his watch.

“If he’s not here by four-thirty, I’ll go and fetch him,” he added but as he spoke, the waiting room doors opened and Willie appeared, wide eyed and excited. He had gone to fetch Rachael who was standing, wide-eyed and confused beside him. Aggie felt guilty when their eyes met. She had forgotten about Rachael in their anxiety, but Mary went towards her and took her in her arms.

“Where is he?” Willie enquired as a lump came to his throat and he swallowed nervously. “Is he ... Is Charlie alright?”

Willie stuttered his words incoherently as Aggie told him that Charlie was in the surgical ward and that they would be allowed in to see him as soon as he started to come round from the anaesthetic. His whole being wanted to scream and deny that what he was hearing was the truth of the matter. He wanted to be somewhere else someone else but with each beat of his heart he knew and understood the reality of that moment as he turned away from Aggie in an effort to hide his tears, but she pulled him towards her.

“Let it out, Willie. Let it all out, Son ...I know what you must be feeling.”

Aggie was fully aware that her younger brother would be feeling the pain of his brother’s accident, perhaps more than any of the others. He and Charlie had always been close and she cried with him in his grief and witnessed him crying as she had never seen him cry before

Aggie glanced at the wall clock. It was nearly five o’clock and each loud ticking minute that passed added more anxiety to her already dejected spirit as Willie went over to where Mary was sitting and threw his arms around her.

“I love you Mammy,” he moaned as he looked into her eyes as if to draw some strength, but she shivered and he knew that her arid heart could only match his own. Mary patted his strained face and dried his tears.

“Can I get you a cup of tea, Mammy?” he asked with concern as he sniffed back his own tears, but Tom stood up and made Willie sit down beside his mother.

“I’ll get the tea. I’ll get us all a cup,”

Tom made his way out of the room and along the corridor.

Rachael, who had been sitting quietly all the while, put her hand on Willie’s shoulder and he looked up. She looked at him tenderly and he wanted so much to respond but his gender was about to give up on him as he sat shyly and ashamed that she had seen his tears. His manhood was vulnerable, but somehow at that moment, it didn’t seem to matter. She looked at him pleadingly and he wanted to put his arm around her, but his shyness would not allow ...instead, he took her hand and kissed it.

“Oh! Willie I’m so afraid,” she sobbed and Willie could stand it no longer. He leaned forward and put his arms around her and her body shook with the pent up emotion within her as she clung to him.

Tom returned with the teas in plastic cups on a wooden tray.

“Thank you, no I don’t feel like a drink at the moment.” It was Rachael who spoke and Tom understood as he could see the distress in her eyes. The others joined him, but Rachael just sat silently with her head on Willie’s shoulder.

Willie reflected on the many times when he had wanted a moment like this, when Rachael would be so close to him but not under these circumstances. He thought of the time when his body would have catapulted, had she as much as stroked his hand and now she was resting on his shoulder and he could feel only a fraternal tenderness towards her, even wishing that it was Charlie’s shoulder that she was crying on and not his. He would have given anything for that to have happened and he realised how ludicrous the situation had become Rachael had not changed, nor had his feelings for her and yet, he knew that at that moment in time, he cherished her as he never ever thought he could or would. He stroked her hair and she allowed him that liberty. He could not say the many endearing things that had been in his mind for so many months in the past, but he kissed her neck gently and his tears moistened her collar. Under different circumstances, Willie Blair would have been ‘made’ ...

Aggie jumped to her feet as the surgeon came along the corridor to meet them. He had disrobed of his theatre gear but still wore the white rubber boots.

“Mrs, Blair?” he enquired, looking at the party before him and Mary stood up.

“Please sit down, Mrs. Blair. Is this Mr. Blair? He turned to Tom as he spoke but Tom hesitated It was hardly the time to explain the situation, but Aggie came forward with the explanation.

“This is Mr. Carey,” she said with a firm voice. “He is my mother’s husband. My father has been dead for many years and we have never changed our names as we are all grown up now.”

The surgeon nodded his understanding as he looked sternly at them and at Mary in particular.

“Young Mr. Blair has had a very serious accident and we must hope that the next twenty-four hours will see him through the most difficult period of his recovery. I cannot say any more than that at the moment, but I am very optimistic. His physical appearances are excellent and I would say he was a very strong young man, with excellent powers of recuperation.”

Mary sighed It was a sigh of relief even if it was tinged with doubt. She wanted with all her heart that Charlie should recover completely and soon, so that he could come home again.

“If there is anything you need,” the surgeon went on, “please do not hesitate to ask the nursing staff. They will be pleased to do anything they can, I do assure you.”

He was about to leave when he turned to Tom. “I think it would be advisable ... if at least one of you could remain at the hospital ... for the next few days at least ... There is sleeping accommodation at your disposal and we have a very fine canteen.” He pressed Tom’s arm with urgency as he spoke.

“Thank you Doctor We can arrange that, of course.”

***

Two orderlies passed the family in the corridor, with a stretcher trolley where Charlie’s face was hardly visible as he was swathed in blankets and they followed in procession to the ward. He was gently settled into bed and the nurse removed the mouth tube and wiped his face clean before she left the ward, taking the tube in a kidney dish, with her.

“You can come in now ... two at a time, please and be very quiet. He will not be conscious not yet, so please be very, very quiet.”

Mary stumbled as she rose from her seat. Her mind was clouded in confusion. She so desperately wanted to see her son, but she was afraid of what she was going to find. Tom took her arm and they went into the ward together. The screens around the bed moved aside easily as they touched them, but Mary gasped. Charlie’s face was grey. His arms and shoulders were exposed and he seemed to be alright as Mary hastened to cover him with the sheets as she put her hand under his pillow and placed a medal of the Virgin there, which she had carried with her. She kissed Charlie’s stubble and her tears wet his cheeks, but Charlie did not move.

“My Darling My dearest Darling,” she sobbed.

Tom stood behind her and his nose ached as he too, wanted to cry. He put his hands on Mary’s shoulders as she sat by the bed and their grief was beyond description. No words would suffice. Tom experienced an intense loss as he looked at Charlie. He had long since regarded him as his own son and he could feel the same loss that a natural father would feel for his ailing child. Charlie was his son HE WAS, because he willed it to be so ....

After some little time, they left the bedside and Aggie and Sadie came in. Aggie could not believe that her brother could look so ‘normal’ considering his accident for she alone knew the details ... that he had fallen from a height of over seventy-five feet of scaffolding and that the ambulance men had thought him to be dead. They had given him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on the ground before they had lifted him into the ambulance and she knew of the fight they had to save his life as they sped off in haste to the hospital and how the oxygen had been used for the entire journey.

“Oh! God help him. Don’t take him from us, please,” she prayed but Sadie sat near her, cold and empty as she looked at her brother’s face. There were no prayers from her lips ... There was no God for her to plead with All she could see in front of her was the little boy with blue eyes and flaxen hair. He was a beautiful child and she remembered how she used to try to carry him from his pram, although she was little more than a baby herself. She thought also of the time when she had confused him with Meggie as they were so much alike in their first years of life.

“My God, Aggie,” Sadie cried out and the nurses told her to be quiet. “ Aggie,” she whispered, “Aggie, we haven’t told Meggie yet.”

They stayed for a little while longer by the bed and Aggie said her Rosary whilst Sadie just stared at Charlie in disbelief.

A telegram was sent to Meggie and also one to George, to ensure that at least one of them would get the news.

***

Charlie fought desperately for his life. His breathing became heavy and his nostrils were pinched, showing tight white lines at either side of his nose, as he gasped for breath. His eyes moved involuntarily under his closed eyelids, whilst his hand fumbled about in the air as he groaned.

“I’m here, Darling. Don’t worry. I’m here. I love you Sweetheart.” Rachael could hardly speak her sentiments as she choked back the tears but Charlie’s body relaxed as she spoke to him. His eyes remained closed as Willie walked round to the other side of the bed and took his brother’s hand, gently in his own. It felt cold and he massaged the finger tips, straining all the time to fight back his tears. He wanted to cuddle his brother, but he was afraid that he might do more harm than good as he glared at the tubes that were fixed to Charlie’s body. A nurse appeared.

“Can you excuse me please,” she said, “I have to give him an injection ... If you could just wait outside for a moment.”

Rachael rose to leave, but as she did so, Charlie tightened his grasp on her hand and she could hear him sighing deeply. The nurse stood back for a second as Charlie opened his eyes and looked straight at Rachael. His face was relieved of all pain and his mouth formed a gentle smile before he turned to Willie.

“Charlie... Charlie, speak to me, Charlie,” Willie cried his affectionate plea and Rachael gasped, but her relief was short-lived.

Charlie’s moment of peace and tranquillity had broken the bonds of pain and the fear of this world.

In the silence of the room, he lay back and died.

***

Willie could not understand the scene before him. He glanced at Rachael for her help, to comprehend what he could see before him, but she was drained white as she sat down slowly and the nurse left the ward to get the doctor. Rachael cherished those last few moments alone with the love of her young life and was oblivious to Willie’s presence beside her.

“Good-bye my Darling,” ... she whispered and placed her fingers gently over the bluest of blue eyes and closed them for the last time but the smile on Charlie’s face did not deceive her.

As the doctor came into the ward, she knew what he would tell her, but Willie could stand the silence no longer as the doctor’s eyes confirmed what he already knew. He pressed Charlie’s hand against his lips and cried. His tears streamed down between his brother’s cold fingers.

“Ah’ll no’ have it,” he murmured “Ah’ll no’ have it d’ye hear?” he cried but somewhere in his sad and lonely heart, a voice whispered, “But you must Willie Blair ... YOU MUST ...” and his hysterical screams would not stop.

***

When they had left the hospital later that day and Charlie’s body had been taken to the morgue, two of the young nurses stripped Charlie’s bed and the Virgin medal tinkled as it dropped to the floor.

“What was that? Did you hear something drop?” One nurse enquired of her companion.

“I thought I did, but I can’t see anything can you?”

They looked about the floor, but there was nothing there. No-one at the hospital ever did find that medallion.

***

Mary fainted when she heard the news as she had been waiting at home before coming to relieve her daughters at the bedside.

***

Aggie took responsibility for the funeral and her brother was brought into the Church in the evening, to lie there in his coffin, throughout the night. Mary and Tom knelt by the catafalque, isolated in their grief and the rest of the family knelt behind them. Rachael took her place at the back of the church and sat in the pew where she and Charlie had sat during the Midnight Mass. As Willie approached her from the front of the church, she knelt down as if to pray and he reached forward and took her hand.

“You should be by his side, Rachael,” he whispered and she followed him slowly to the coffin, where she put a single red rose over the plaque that bore Charlie’s name.

That night they took it in turn to stay with Charlie’s body, each bearing a lonely tribute to the young man who had meant so much to them in life and where the reality of his death was raw and unacceptable, the loneliness and darkness of that time was indelible in each and every heart, as they maintained their lonely vigil and awaited the light of a new day.

Meggie arrived at the church at 4.15 am. just as the dawn was beginning to peep through. She had been delayed in her arrival but she looked smart in her uniform as she walked slowly down the aisle to where her twin lay asleep. Her face was pale and her limbs had turned to jelly as she reached the coffin in the eerie silence that surrounded her.

“Charlie ... Charlie. Oh! Charlie,” she cried, “I’ll never see you again, my Love.” She touched the oak coffin as if to contact her twin inside, but Charlie had truly gone beyond all human affection and she felt the deep desolate loneliness of that moment as she rubbed her lips with the back of her hand and swallowed back her tears. “I love you, Darling Charlie,” she moaned as she slid quietly into the pew beside Rachael and put her hand out to touch Charlie’s sweetheart as they sat there together. Neither said a word, but both Jewish and Catholic prayers were offered to the same God that early, cold bleak morning.

***

The black robed priest stood formidable in front of the coffin as he sprayed the air with the Holy Water. Many of Charlie’s mates from the building site were at the Mass and flowers decked the coffin and lay in piles around the front of the church and inside the High Altar.

“Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine; et lux perpetua luceat eis”

After the mass was over the procession left the church as the choir boys were singing and Willie looked around. He could see again the scene when he, himself was an altar boy and he too had sung at funerals and weddings, but he never knew then what it was to have the feelings that he had at that moment as he followed the hearse. He was a man now and he had thrown away the things of a child .There would be no high jinks and cream buns for him after the service His life had changed so dramatically in the last twenty-four hours and he knew that he would never ever be the same person again. He blew his nose and his breath came in jerking spasms as he joined the procession and the young choristers lustily sang their sombre chorus.

“Dies irae, dies illa; solvet saeclum in flavilla; Teste David cum Sybylla .”

The cold, harsh wind blew savagely around the cemetery and clouds gathered over the sky when little rain drops spattered at the coffin as it was being lowered into the ground. All the earth was crying for the departure of Charlie Blair . The flowers and the wreaths had been gathered to one side and only one single red rose clung to the brass nameplate on the lid. Through wind and rain, it would not budge, but fluttered triumphantly, defiant of the elements ...”Dies irae, dies illa ...”

***

Meggie stayed at home for nearly two weeks after the funeral and the deathly stillness of the house lingered with her, long after she had returned to her base. She hoped her presence might have been a comfort to Mary and to Tom for that matter, since he had taken the whole situation very much to heart and she was sure he felt the same loss as all the rest of the family, but the one who suffered most ... and Meggie could see it in everything he did, ... was Willie ...

After the funeral, he had been unable to come home with the rest of the family, for the dinner that had been prepared at home and Mary understood. Tom tried to persuade him to come home, but Mary intervened sympathetically.

“Let him be, Tom. Let him be. He’ll be alright “she had said and Willie did arrive home about 9.30 that evening. His conversation was limited and after they had all retired to bed, he crept into Charlie’s room and stood against the closed door, with only the rays of the moon as his lamp. He was alone and he could cry if he wanted. His lips trembled and a thick, heavy tear trickled down his flushed cheeks as slowly he began to undress until he stood naked in the moonlight. He pulled the sheets back on Charlie’s bed and lay down, folding his arms around the pillow. All the scenes of his early childhood with his beloved brother flashed through his mind. ... and he began to cry.

“He’ll want ye to cough, Willie. Just to see of all yer bits are O.K.” Willie sniffed back a further tear and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Just to see if they’re all in the right place ... all in the right place ... all in the right place.” He shoved his mouth into the pillow to stem the tears.

“You’ll have to take a wee bottle to pee in.” He sobbed uncontrollably and screwed his mouth further into the pillow, with an agony so intense that he thought he might die. He wanted to die He wanted to be with Charlie

‘Bonnie Charlie’s noo awa,

Safely o’er the friendly main,

Moni the hert is broke in twa,

Will ye no’ come back again?’

With a broken heart, after hours of torment, Willie fell asleep.

‘Will ye no’ come back again? Will ye no’ come back again?’

His sleep was shallow and constantly interrupted by his dreams.

“I could come just lookin’ at her Willie...” He heard Charlie’s voice again and he sat bolt upright in his brother’s bed.

“CHARLIE ... CHARLIE, he screamed aloud and Mary rushed into the bedroom followed by Tom. They had not been aware that Willie wasn’t in his own room and Tom rushed across and took Willie in his arms. He was perspiring and his forehead was hot.

“There, there now lad ...You’ve had a bad dream. You’ll be alright soon.” he said and pulled the sheets around him. “Go back to sleep now. God bless.”

Tom and Mary left the room and returned to bed.

“Let him be, Tom Just let him be,” she sighed as Willie rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but that task was no easy matter. He threw the sheets to the floor and lay naked in the moonlight, perspiring; his body gleaming and heaving as he closed his eyes tightly and a saliva thread played mockingly around his lips.

“Charlie ... I wish we didn’a hae separate beds ... I wish you could come to sleep wi’ me again, Charlie, just like it was .Oh! Charlie dinna leave me ... dinna leave me, please “ Warm tears smarted his eyes. “I’m sorry for aw the things I said tae hurt ye, Charlie ... I’m sorry really I am. I love you Charlie. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he cried, but sleep eventually overtook him and he nestled his head into the tear-stained pillow.