They found Christine in the waiting area of the A&E department of the BRI.
‘He started slurring his words again and didn’t make any sense. He was all over the place. Quite distressed. I tried calling you. But you didn’t answer. So, I called an ambulance,’ Christine told them, clearly upset by the whole thing. ‘Do you think he’s had another stroke?’ she asked George.
‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘Where is he?’
‘In a cubicle. He’s sleeping. I came out as soon as I knew you were on your way. He has a very young doctor,’ she said with a hint of old age suspicion. George looked around at people waiting to be treated. Others for news of those being treated. People stared at their phones half-heartedly. Bored children stared longingly at the forbidden fruit contained in the vending machine next to the stairs. Impatience and fear occupied every available plastic seat.
George was amazed his father could sleep. It was so noisy. After about an hour of Cross pestering anyone he saw in medical scrubs, a young doctor approached them.
‘Has he had another stroke?’ Cross asked him before he had a chance to introduce himself.
‘He has not,’ replied the young man.
‘Have you alerted Dr Khan?’ Cross asked.
‘There’s no need and anyway, he’s in surgery.’
‘Are you going to do a brain scan?’
‘I’m not, no,’ the doctor replied confidently.
‘Why not?’
‘As I said, your father has not had another stroke,’ the doctor continued.
‘Then what has happened?’ asked Cross.
‘Your father has a UTI, a urinary tract infection. Quite common in the elderly, this can often result in confusion, disorientation, slurring and misuse of words. Obviously, after someone has had a stroke like Raymond, when this happens, the immediate reaction from family can be that he’s had another. But I can assure you he hasn’t. We’ll give him some antibiotics and you can take him home. It should clear up in the next twenty-four hours.’
*
‘This situation is precisely why I have to resign,’ Cross informed Christine and Josie as they waited for an ambulance to take Raymond home.
‘I don’t follow,’ said Josie.
‘So that I can be available for such a crisis,’ he said.
‘I’d say this situation proves exactly the opposite, George. Christine dealt with the situation admirably,’ Josie pointed out.
‘She couldn’t get hold of me,’ he replied, confident this would prove his point.
‘Only because you chose not to answer the phone. Maybe answer it next time,’ she said. ‘Or at least look at who it is. Or, even better, have a second phone which is just for your parents’ use. So that if it rings you know to answer it. Actually, now I come to think about it, can’t you assign people individual ringtones for when they call?’
‘He really doesn’t want you to resign, George,’ began Christine. ‘He’s been quite upset about it since you told us. Completely preoccupied with it, in fact.’
‘Are you implying this is my fault?’ asked George.
‘I’m no doctor, but I’m fairly sure being upset doesn’t bring on a UTI, George. However, if you really want to help his current state of mind, perhaps you could tell him you’ve changed your mind?’ his mother went on.
‘But I haven’t,’ George pointed out.
‘Will you at least consider it?’ asked Christine.
‘I’ll give it some thought,’ he replied.
*
‘Did it never occur to you to discuss your resignation with me, or at least inform me of it?’ Ottey asked Cross in her car as she drove him home.
‘It didn’t, no.’
‘Why not?’ she asked.
‘Did it never occur to you to discuss or inform me of your impending promotion?’ he replied.
‘It did, actually,’ she said.
‘And yet you failed to do either,’ he observed.
‘I wanted to. I intended to,’ she replied defensively.
‘You had ample opportunity to do so.’
‘Alright, I’m sorry. I should’ve but let’s not make this conversation about me,’ she said.
‘It is about you. It’s about your being offended that I didn’t tell you about my intention to resign from the police,’ he pointed out.
‘Raymond is obviously upset about it,’ she said, ignoring his point.
‘So it would seem.’
‘Which should have some sort of bearing on your thinking. But also, seriously George, what would you do without your work?’ she asked.
‘Look after my father,’ he replied.
‘But he has Christine now.’
‘I want to be able to help,’ he protested.
‘I think you can do both. Help and work at the same time. Have you thought about that?’ she asked.
‘I haven’t, as it happens, no.’
‘Well perhaps you should before going through with such a dramatic gesture,’ she said.
There it was again, that word, gesture. There was also something in this last sentence which struck a chord with Cross. He had, after all, entertained the, not unpleasant, notion that he was making a great sacrifice on his part, one which he thought might garner universal gratitude and praise. But it hadn’t. Was it because it was no more than that – a dramatic gesture? It had to be said, he’d woken up several times in the last few weeks, anxious about what life would be like without his work. So perhaps he wasn’t as suited to the role of selfless martyr as he thought he was.