Rose hastily climbed the concrete steps to the main entrance of the Cottage Hospital. She stopped and turned as Chris ran up behind her, taking the steps two at a time.
“Thanks for the call,” he told his mother as they entered the main building.
Rose headed straight for the reception counter and said, before the receptionist could look up, “I’ve just had a call, about my husband, Craig. Craig Hardie.”
“Rose,” called Dr Farrukh from the entrance to the far corridor.
Rose and Chris dashed over to her.
“Follow me,” she instructed and turned down the corridor, walking at a brisk pace. Rose tried, but failed, to keep up with Chris and the doctor as their route took them straight through and out of the building.
They turned left and entered a smaller, single-storey building with numerous closed doors leading from the central corridor. There was a stillness about the place and two nurses, standing further along the corridor, spoke to each other in hushed tones.
Chris and Dr Farrukh stopped by one of the doors and waited for Rose. Dr Farrukh whispered, “As I was telling your son, Craig has suffered a stroke and was unconscious when I last saw him.” She opened the door and Rose stepped inside.
She felt as if she had stepped into an alien world. Craig was hooked up to monitors, and a see-though ventilator mask was strapped to his face and attached to a mechanical ventilation unit. A thin tube ran from his exposed ghostly-white hand to a bag of what must be IV fluid hanging from a stand.
Dr Farrukh and Chris followed her into the room and moved to the opposite side of the bed.
“What happened?” asked Rose hoarsely.
“The orderly who was giving him lunch noticed that Craig was slurring his words and that the left-hand side of his face had begun to droop. It was lucky he was there as he immediately pressed the emergency button.”
Rose shook her head. “I knew something was wrong this morning. He just didn’t seem himself and he said the pain was less than it had been but that he felt rather numb.”
“Ah yes,” interjected Dr Farrukh. “That is an early sign, but you weren’t to know it would lead to a stroke. He could just have been feeling numb from lying in bed for a couple of days.”
Chris turned and stepped towards the window. The view was obscured by white net curtains. With his back to the room, Chris said, “Mum, I’m sorry I dismissed your concerns. It’s like the doctor said, I just thought he was feeling the effects of lying down for a prolonged period.” He bowed his head, “And I was irritated that you were late after spending the night at Borana.”
Rose walked over to the window and placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. “It’s OK. We didn’t know this would happen. Although, let’s face it, we were all worried that he might take a turn for the worse.”
Dr Farrukh picked up a chart, which she read. “And you did tell the nurse who checked on him this morning. It’s written on here.”
Rose went to stand by the doctor as she asked, “What are his chances of recovery?”
“I don’t know. Let me try a few tests.”
Chris left the window and stood by his father’s bed opposite Rose and Dr Farrukh.
“Open your eyes,” the doctor instructed her unconscious patient. There was no response. She repeated the question.
Dr Farrukh leaned over the bed and picked up Craig’s frail hand, the one without the IV drip, and said, “Squeeze my finger.”
Rose watched, feeling her arms tingle and silently thought, come on Craig. Just a little squeeze, just something to show you’re still here with us.
Dr Farrukh repeated her command and Rose’s eyes widened. She was certain she’d seen his fingers move. She looked up at the doctor, holding her breath.
The doctor stood up and smiled, “Good, there was some movement, so I think he will regain consciousness. Although we have no idea what damage has been done. I must check on another patient, but I’ll be back shortly.”
Rose and Chris sat facing the end of the bed in silence. Rose was not sure how long they stayed like that: it could have been two, five or twenty minutes.
A nurse entered the room and leant over Craig. “How are we doing, Mr Hardie?” After a pause she said calmly, “Oh good, you’re awake. Just a minute whilst I remove your mask.”
Rose and Chris both jumped up to stand beside Craig’s bed. Rose clasped Craig’s hand. The nurse unstrapped the ventilator mask and Craig turned his head just enough to smile at Rose. She felt giddy and Chris grabbed her as her legs gave way. He helped her back to the chair where she sat for several minutes with her head between her legs.
She heard Chris say, “Don’t worry, Dad. We’re here. No, don’t try to speak. Just rest and give yourself some time to recover.”
Rose lifted her head and leant back in her chair. For the first time she noticed a warm glow permeate through the net covered window. The room seemed full of light … and noise. Her mobile phone was ringing.
She answered it.
“Mama Rose.” Commissioner Akida sounded excited.
“Just a minute, Commissioner.” She stood up gingerly, but her legs bore her weight and as she walked across to the door she felt stronger. Outside Craig’s room she said, “Sorry, please go on.”
“You were right,” he congratulated her. “My contact in the UK found records of Robert Scott Watson being married three times in the past twelve years, and that’s in addition to his marriage to Nina. On two occasions his wives died, and the third went missing and was never found.”
“Oh dear,” murmured Rose as she leant against the corridor wall. “It’s as I feared.”
“My contact hasn’t found any evidence of a marriage between a Robert Scott and a Vivian. He sent an email to the Philippines, but it’s already seven in the evening there so he’s not expecting a response until tomorrow morning at the earliest. What do you suggest we do now?”
Now. How could she think about what anyone else should be doing? Not when Craig was lying next door surrounded by all those machines.
“Mama Rose,” she heard the commissioner call into the phone.
“Sorry.” She massaged her temple. “Robert’s wives,” she said out loud.
“What about them?”
She willed her mind to think clearly. Money. Death. Into the phone she said, “Can one of your officers do some research into the wives? How and where they died or went missing. Were they wealthy, and if so, did Robert inherit? And is there anything which is similar about the women or links them in any way?”
“Good idea. I’ll get someone onto that straight away and I’ll call you back with the results.”