After locating and pressing the buzzer to summon help, it seemed an age before the nurse put her head round the door.
‘What is it, Ella?’
‘Have you seen my sister?’
She came in, looking me over. ‘That’s why you called?’
‘She … I think she’s in danger.’ I threw off the blankets. ‘The man who took her … took me, it’s not who we thought it was. It wasn’t Jake, and I think I saw the man earlier. He was in the hospital.’
I sounded breathless, and knew I wasn’t making much sense. A frown gathered on the nurse’s brow. ‘They caught the man, and he’s in custody,’ she said, her voice kind. ‘You’ve nothing to worry about; you’re in perfectly good hands here.’
‘But she’s gone after him.’ I swung my legs out of bed and the floor tilted towards me. ‘I have to find her.’
‘You can’t get up.’ The nurse placed gentle hands on my shoulders. ‘You need to rest. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal.’
I shrugged her off, tears of frustration rising. ‘Police,’ I said. ‘Get the police – I need to talk to them.’
Her face creased into anxious lines. ‘You lie down, and I’ll go and fetch someone.’
As soon as the door closed, I hauled myself out of bed. There was no way I could stay, while Colleen was God knows where.
There was no sign of my clothes. They were probably ruined, so I grabbed the discarded blanket off the back of the chair and threw it over my hospital gown before shuffling, barefoot to the door. Painkillers must have numbed the pain in my ankle, but it was difficult to walk with it thickly bandaged. My head was spinning and I clung to the doorframe, fighting the urge to cough. There was an abandoned wheelchair in the empty, strip-lit corridor. I hobbled over, checking the nurse wasn’t on her way back, and collapsed into it, pins and needles prickling in my legs.
Pushing myself to reception, I kept an eye open for Colleen, but had no idea where to start looking. The sounds of the hospital were distant, as though everything was happening a long way away, adding to the sense that this was a nightmare I might wake up from any moment.
I followed the signs to a reception area, where a woman at a desk behind a glass panel was sitting in front of a computer. ‘Excuse me, have you seen my sister – small with short dark hair, very pale?’ My voice didn’t sound as strong as I’d have liked and it seemed to take the woman an age to drag her gaze in my direction.
‘Actually, yes, she was in a bit of a hurry,’ she said, a frown in her voice. She pointed the pen in her hand at a pair of glass doors. ‘She went outside.’
I wheeled myself to the exit, fighting for breath, ignoring a curious glance from a cleaner mopping the floor.
The doors were automatic and silently parted, and I shot through into what looked like a car park, though it was practically empty. No sign of any reporters, or the Gardaí the nurse had mentioned were waiting. Perhaps they’d gone for breakfast. Then I spotted a sign with an arrow pointing to the main entrance, round the side of the building, and realised there was more than one way out of the hospital.
‘Shit.’ Colleen could be anywhere. She might even be back in my room, wondering where I’d gone. About to reverse back inside, I saw something lying some distance away on the tarmac. Pushing forward, arms straining with effort, panic clutched at my throat as I drew closer and saw what it was. It was the necklace she always wore – the cheap chain with the letter ‘B’. She’d constantly fiddled with it at the hotel. I bent to pick it up. Colleen had been out here.
I frantically looked around, as if she might be hiding, and thought I heard the roar of a car, pulling away from the hospital at speed.
Turning so fast the wheelchair almost toppled, I shot back inside, where the startled receptionist was talking to a colleague. ‘Call the police.’ My tone was urgent and they exchanged a look.
‘Should you be out here?’ said the woman I’d spoken to before. ‘You don’t look at all well.’
‘Please,’ I said. ‘It’s important. My sister … I think she’s been taken.’
‘There you are.’ It was the nurse, a harried look on her face as she hurried towards me. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘I’m trying to find Colleen.’ I tried to get out of the wheelchair. ‘I have to talk to the police,’ I said. ‘Where are they?’
‘Stay where you are.’ The nurse pressed me down with a firm, efficient movement. ‘I’ll take you back to your room.’
‘Please, you don’t understand. My sister—’
‘I know after what’s happened you don’t want to let her out of your sight, but I’m sure she’s just gone to clean up, or to make a call and will be back before you know it.’
‘She was going to look for him.’ Why didn’t she understand? ‘Please, you have to help.’
‘The doctor will talk to you.’ The nurse wheeled me fast, her shoes silent on the floor. ‘And the Gardaí will be back soon to take your statement.’
My breath was coming in gasps. ‘I need to talk to my husband. Can I call him?’ Greg would know what to do. But Greg was on a plane, on his way to see me.
‘Of course you can,’ said the nurse, her voice soothing, as though talking to a difficult child. ‘I’ll bring you the phone, once we’ve got you settled again.’
I wanted to scream, but knew if I did, it would make everything worse – make me less credible than I already was. As far as she was concerned, the man responsible for putting me in hospital was safely locked up and I had nothing to worry about. She probably thought I was suffering from post-traumatic stress.
As the nurse left me sitting on the edge of the bed, promising to return with a phone, panic pushed at my chest. Where are you, Colleen?
I let out a cry, as something came back to me – something Colleen said when she was telling me about the ex-boyfriend she’d bumped into and ended up sleeping with – what was his name? Gabriel, that was it.
He saved my life once. Her low voice came back to me. I’d gone up the cliffs at Aughris Head, intending to throw myself off, join Bryony at the bottom of the ocean, but he followed me up there. He said I should take some drugs to ease the pain instead.
Five minutes later, with the phone in my shaking hand, I pressed in the number for the police, but my words tumbled out in the wrong order and as the officer at the other end asked me to start again for the second time, I yelled at them to get to the hospital as quickly as possible, hung up and rang directory enquiries. ‘Can you get me the number of the Strandhill Hostel in Sligo?’
Reagan had told me to call if I needed anything. I needed him now.