Farrell was bone-tired. He opened the gate and walked up the path to Lind’s front door, his heart heavy with the knowledge that Lind might never return home. The dawn chorus was already starting up, as the sun crept over the horizon sending out rosy fingers of light.
The door flew open before he rang the bell. Laura stood there before him, her face swollen with tears. Without the need for words, he enfolded her in his arms. After a few moments, she pulled away and invited him into the warmth. They sat together on the settee, surrounded by memories of happier times.
‘I still can’t believe it,’ she said. ‘Yesterday, he was fine and today they say he might never wake up again. I can’t comprehend it. It’s too huge.’ She started to cry once more, and Farrell passed her a handkerchief.
‘He suffered a heavy blow to the head that caused a bleed on the brain,’ he said. ‘They’ll have a better idea of his prognosis when the swelling subsides. For now, it’s in the hands of God.’
‘I wish I had your faith,’ she sniffed. ‘I’ve tried to pray, but all I feel is emptiness pushing back against me.’
‘If it’s any consolation, I can assure you that I’ve been praying loud enough for both of us,’ said Farrell with a wan attempt at a smile.
‘All those stupid arguments,’ she wept. ‘What was I thinking? It all seems so pointless now. The things I said to him …’ She beat at herself with her hands in a torment of self- loathing.
‘Hey,’ said Farrell, reaching across to grab her hands. ‘He loved you. He knew you loved him. The rest was just a bump in the road. Part of living and loving is rowing. He needs you to be strong for him now. Are you going to take the kids to see him today?’
‘Yes, my mother’s taking us all to Glasgow later. The doctors think it might help for him to hear our voices. I’ve told them that Daddy’s hurt his head and is having a big sleep so the doctors can make it better. I have an aunt in Edinburgh. She’s said we can all stay up there with her until things become clearer.’
Farrell stood to go.
‘If you need anything, Laura, anything at all …’
‘You’ll be the first to know,’ she said.
Somehow Farrell managed to drive himself home. It was fully light now, although the curtains were still drawn as he crunched down the path at Kelton. The River Nith at the foot of the lane was still and calm. Henry roused himself sleepily from his basket near the Aga and wound around his legs. Everything was the same, yet different.
He walked slowly upstairs to his bedroom and closed the door. Then he lit a large beeswax candle, faced the small crucifix on his wall, sank to his knees, and prayed for the life of his friend with an intensity he had never known.