DC Rory Fleming had found a quiet room for him and Craig Armitage to wait in while the doctors were racing to save his wife’s life. Craig was standing by the window, watching the rain teem down through the slats of the dusty venetian blinds.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen rain like this before,’ Craig said calmly. ‘It’s like the end of the world.’
‘Craig, can I get you anything? A tea or coffee maybe?’ Rory asked. He was sitting on the nearest chair to the door.
‘No. I’m fine, thank you,’ he smiled. ‘Do you think the world is ending?’ he asked, turning back to look out of the window.
‘I … don’t think so,’ Rory frowned.
‘It feels like it. My daughter is dead. My wife …’ He choked on his words. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that before, not even in films.’
‘What happened?’
‘We were in the living room eating a sandwich. She’s not been herself for a couple of weeks now. The sandwich just dropped out of her hands. She started retching and then she was sick, but nothing came out. Then, all of a sudden, she’s choking and bringing up blood. I shouted to Jodie to call for an ambulance. I thought the tiredness and everything was down to grief. She could have been seriously ill all this time and I’ve not noticed.’
‘This may all be down to grief, Craig. It affects people in so many different ways. You’ve said yourself how much she does for Riley. She’s looking after him twenty-four hours a day. Then there’s the house and Jodie and Keeley, and everything else. There’s only so much a person can take before their body has had enough.’
‘And you think that’s what this is?’ he asked, looking hopeful.
‘I’m not a doctor, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she doesn’t just need a long break from things.’
Craig moved from the window and sat in the chair opposite Rory. ‘Maybe we could go away for a while. Linda’s always been reluctant to put Riley in respite care; this might make her see sense.’
Rory smiled at him placatingly.
The door opened and a tall woman with her hair falling out of a loosely tied ponytail came into the room. She was thin and wore black trousers and a blue and white striped shirt. The severe bags under her eyes aged her, as did her dry skin and drooped shoulders. A doctor in a busy A&E department was not a good place to work if you wanted to look after yourself.
‘Mr Armitage?’ She asked. There was a slight Welsh lilt to her voice that sounded calming.
Rory moved over for her to sit down. She leaned forward.
‘I’m Doctor Megan Williams. I’ve been working on your wife since she was admitted. I’m afraid we were unable to control your wife’s breathing. The levels of oxygen in her blood were far too low and she suffered respiratory failure. I’m so sorry.’
Craig looked at the doctor. His expression hadn’t changed since she’d entered the room. ‘Can I see her?’
The doctor looked at Rory then back to Craig. ‘Mr Armitage, your wife has died.’
‘Should I go home and get her an overnight bag or something?’
Rory stepped forward. He placed a hand on his solid arm. ‘Craig, listen to me,’ he said slowly. ‘Linda didn’t regain consciousness. There was nothing the doctors could do. She’s died.’
‘Died?’
‘Yes.’
‘But … no … She can’t leave me. Last night she was talking about Keeley’s funeral and what music we should have.’
‘Craig …’
‘There’s this company that does coffins for children and you can have Disney prints put on them. We saw one that looked like a castle. She smiled. Linda smiled for the first time. She wanted Keeley to be given a funeral fit for a princess. She wouldn’t just die like that. She wouldn’t.’
A tear fell from his left eye. Then more followed.
‘Oh my God! Oh Jesus Christ, no,’ he collapsed into Rory who held him tightly and allowed him to sob and wail and scream into his shoulder.