I pick up the pen I’d left resting at the side of my bed, brushing the envelope I have addressed to Lenny aside. I wonder what he’s up to now; how he’s handling Michelle and Jake. It won’t be easy. It always infuriated me that the cops wouldn’t look into Jake for me. It’s hardly just a coincidence that he came into our lives just as Betsy was taken. But it still doesn’t add up that he took her. The only motive I’ve ever been able to come up with is that he would have wanted me and Michelle to split up… but why would he go to such lengths? I don’t know. I’ve fuck all to go on. I’m pretty sure Jake had nothing to do with Betsy’s disappearance, but what was I supposed to do… lie here in my last hours of life and do nothing? I bet Lenny’s been trying to get hold of me. I’d love to turn my phone back on, see what he’s up to. But I guess it’s gonna be a case of him saying he questioned Jake and came to a conclusion that he had nothing to do with Betsy’s disappearance.
I stare over at the envelope again, suck at my own lips. I don’t know who I’m going to leave the house to if I die today. Probably nobody at this stage. The state will take it, do with it whatever the hell they please. Anyway, I’m not planning on dying. I’m going to get through these surgeries. I’m so grateful to Elaine… lying to Douglas for me; knocking a couple of digits off my actual heart rate. I owe it to her to just lie here and relax.
I grab at my book, rip out another blank page and without even thinking of how I’m going to construct this letter, I begin writing.
Dear Michelle,
Then I bring the pen to my mouth and begin to nibble on the top of it. I’ve so much to say to this woman. Half of it in an irate tone, half of it filled with adoration. How the fuck do I even begin to sum up what she’s meant to me? Fuck it!
I know you and I have had our differences, but I don’t want this letter to come across in a negative way.
If you’re reading this, it’s because I’m dead – that I didn’t make it through my surgeries.
I guess I’m writing to you because I want to apologise for all of my faults. I know I was never the perfect husband. And it’s pretty clear to everyone – you especially – that I was never a perfect father either. But I need you to understand that, while I have lived with the guilt of our dear Betsy going missing on my watch, I genuinely feel as if
As if… as if what? I lay my head back against the rail. What the fuck am I trying to say to her? I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault? I don’t know. I gurn in frustration, then come to the realisation that the process of writing a goodbye letter to Michelle is not going to be as cathartic as I’d hoped it might be. It’s only going to raise my heart rate even more. This wasn’t a good idea. I place the pen back down on the bedside cabinet, then rub at my face with both hands, rubbing them up and down until the frustration I have running through my mind disappears.
The door opening causes me to take my hands down and when I do I immediately feel better. She’s smiling at me. It seems as if we’re friends again.
‘Thank you so much, Elaine,’ I say, as she makes her way towards me. She has both hands held aloft, palms out. I hold both my hands out to her too and we high ten.
‘All sorted, Gordon,’ she says. ‘The team are going to operate. The theatre has been cleared of its last surgery and it’s being prepped for yours now. Mr Douglas was deadly serious about not operating, but when I told him your bloods had just crept below the one-forties and that you were now being as restful as you possibly could be, he agreed to go ahead.’
I stare at her wide eyes. My little heroine.
‘I may literally owe you my whole life by tonight,’ I tell her.
She waves my compliment away, then points a finger at me.
‘You can’t tell anybody I fudged the numbers, you hear me? Even when you do survive, this has to be our little secret. I’d totally lose my job if that ever became known.’
I grab the hand that is pointing at me, turn it over and then bring it to my mouth to lightly kiss it.
‘I promise I will never tell a soul.’
Elaine creases her lips into a friendly smile, then looks at the sheet of paper on my chest.
‘Writing letters?’ she asks.
I rub at my face; the reminder of me trying to justify myself to Michelle making its way to the forefront of my mind again.
‘The ex wife,’ I tell Elaine. ‘Problem is, I don’t know what to say.’
‘You never asked her to come up to see you, no?’
I shake my head. Can’t bring myself to explain an answer. It’s just way too complicated.
Elaine lets out a deep breath, her hand still being held by mine, and then eyeballs me.
‘It’s probably for the best,’ she says. ‘Let’s just keep you relaxed, there isn’t long to go.’ She lets go of my hand, removes her pocket watch and then raises her eyebrows. ‘A little less than an hour. I have to say, Gordon, you are in the best hands and—’
She looks behind at the door opening. Another nurse, dressed in a slightly different shade of purple scrubs, steps inside.
‘Sorry, Elaine,’ she says, ‘but Mr Blake, I have a Lenny Moon on the line. He said he has something to tell you and wondered if you could call him back.’
I feel my heart rate instantly rise. What the fuck has he found out about Jake Dewey? I need to know.
‘That’s okay,’ Elaine says, staring over her shoulder at the nurse. ‘Mr Blake won’t be taking or making any phone calls until he’s come out of his surgeries, isn’t that right, Gordon?’
She squeezes my hand. I look up to her, offer a thin smile.
‘Eh… yes, I eh… I’m prepping for the surgeries now. I won’t be talking to anybody.’
The nurse steps backwards towards the door.
‘Of course, Mr Blake, sorry to have disturbed you.’
Elaine continues to squeeze my hand, then offers me a little wink.
‘We’re a good team me and you, huh?’ she says.
I gulp as I offer her a fake laugh.
‘You’re the best,’ I say.
‘That’s Saoirse; Saoirse Guinness – a new nurse. She’ll put Lenny straight. You can speak to him after you wake up from the surgeries… okay? So, will we turn the TV back on?’ she suggests casually, as if news from Lenny is insignificant.
I nod my head slowly, reach for the remote control under my sheets and hand it to her. She sits in the blue plastic chair, presses at the standby button and proceeds to click through the channels, asking me at every turn whether or not what’s showing on the TV is something that interests me. I continue to just shake my head, even though I don’t know what’s on. I’m staring through the TV, not at it; my mind racing.
‘Oh… that’s all the channels,’ she says eventually. ‘Will I just leave something on? Pick a number.’
I smile with my eyes, wave my hand.
‘I don’t know… number three,’ I say.
We both stare at the screen, a cheesy toothpaste advert showing images of an annoying-looking boy grinning from ear to ear comes on.
‘Is Colgate going to help you relax?’ Elaine says, looking to me.
I sniff a small laugh out of my nostrils, then tilt my head back as a thought comes to me.
‘You know what would help me relax?’ I ask.
‘Go on.’
‘Fruit Pastilles.’
‘Fruit Past— sure you’re supposed to be fasting.’
‘I won’t swallow them, just the taste… they’d, I don’t know. I just really fancy some. I have some change here,’ I say, reaching for my bedside cabinet. I open the drawer, shovel some loose change into the palm of my hand then hold it towards Elaine. ‘Please,’ I say, sounding a little bit like a pleading Oliver Twist.
Elaine twitches an eyebrow.
‘If it’ll help you relax.’ She scoops the coins from my hand, then hands me the remote control. ‘You find us something to watch. I’ll be five minutes.’
I click at the buttons of the remote, not looking at the screen but at her as she leaves the ward. When she closes the door, I reach for the drawer of the cabinet again and grab at my phone. I hold down the standby button and wait for the screen to blink on.
‘C’mon, for fuck sake,’ I hiss at it. It seems to take an age for the phone to load up. When it does, I immediately click into my call history, then hold my finger against Lenny’s number.
‘Jesus, Gordon, what took you so long ringing me back?’ he says.
‘Never mind that; what’s the news you have for me?’