6.30 a.m., but Quiet Isaac was clearly in the new day in such an affirmative way. He smiled at her as he slurped his milkless tea.

‘Hey. Sun is shining,’ he said, risking a tentative smile. Hope looked at the window and indeed it was – shining brightly. She could see dust particles dancing in a beam hitting the far wall. To anyone else, this would be entrancing. Beautiful even. But for Hope, no. She didn’t like to see dust anywhere, and definitely not here in the hospital where she was in charge of ridding it of exactly that.

She and Isaac were the only people there. The baby cot was empty. So empty. Except the atoms of dust. The dust that might have also once been on her baby.

She sat up and took the fresh cup of tea Isaac poured for her from a sludgy green teapot. There was no sugar in it. She liked sugar, did Hope. She liked it far too much. But there was none on the tray, so she settled for tea with just the milk. It was hot and vaguely tea-ish, and that was enough to rehydrate her, which was all she wanted, because her head was pounding.

All Hope knew was that she needed to get out of that room, that ward, that hospital. She felt a strange mixture of sadness, shame and embarrassment. What had happened to them was supremely personal, and she wanted to hide away so that she could nurse herself.

As she moved her legs out from underneath the warm sheets, she felt the sharp sting of pain where her stitches were. Ow.

Quiet Isaac saw her wince and moved to help her.

‘It’s OK. I’m fine. My clothes …?’

‘Let’s wait for the nurse. She said she’d be back soon.’

‘I just want to … get home …’

‘I know. I know, but be careful, Bubs,’ and he reached out to her.

She looked him in the eye and they both understood just how much it all hurt, and Hope let him hold her. As her face nestled into his chest where he stood at the side of the bed, she could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, like the Isaac she knew before all this, the Isaac she came into the hospital with. He was back, strong and supportive, and she was gratefully glad of it. Perhaps they might just get through everything as long as they were together …?

Fatu came back in and explained that Hope was free to go whenever she felt ready to. She gave Hope a packet of pain-relief tablets and an antibacterial wash to keep her stitches clean. She sat next to Hope on the bed and, very very sensitively, she said, ‘I have a pack here for you, Hope. It has some information about a support group for people who have been through this similar situation. They’re good at their job, so lean on them if you want to, yes? I know you want to leave, but if you would like to see the hospital chaplain, I can call him …?’

‘No, no, it’s far too early.’

‘He would never mind, honestly.’

‘No. Thank you. It’s OK. Thank you.’ Hope knew she wouldn’t be able to stomach another sympathy-tilted head. At least Fatu had been there in the room with them through it all. Others couldn’t possibly understand.

‘And lastly, Hope, this envelope is for you to pass on to the funeral director, when you are ready. It has all the details of where little Minnie will be kept for now …’

‘What do you mean, “kept”?’

‘Where she will wait to be collected …’

‘Where is she then?’ Hope asked.

Fatu paused. The word was hard to say, but she knew she must. ‘In the hospital mortuary. Safe.’

Fatu had kept it together valiantly until this moment of raw reality. She was a young midwife, and stillbirth was relatively rare, so witnessing Hope and Isaac’s shock and pain was dreadful for her. She wished it had turned out differently for them, but there was nothing she could do other than offer her sisterly giant heart in a professional manner.

Fatu put her hand on Hope’s hand, which was in turn on Isaac’s hand, and for a small frozen moment, the three of them shared the heaviness of the grief. When Hope lifted her head to look Fatu in the eye and thank her, she saw that Fatu wasn’t coping with the sadness.

‘I’m so sorry, sista.’ A fat tear rolled down Fatu’s cheek and sploshed on to her hand.

Hope reached up to Fatu’s face and wiped away any wet that was threatening to congregate and make more tears. ‘’S OK. It’s … yeah … OK. It is this, it’s what it is and nothing can change it now, so save your tears. But thank you. From me and him and … her. Thank you. You did nothing wrong. We know that.’

‘Oh, thank you for sayin’ so … I wish—’

‘I know,’ Hope interrupted her. ‘My grandmother would say this is God’s wish. I dunno what I think right now, but we need to go away and work out how to live without her …’

‘I don’t know how you’re goin’ to do that, but I get the strong feelin’ it’s goin’ to be all right, I really do.’ Fatu tried to reassure her with what she undoubtedly felt was the truth. ‘You want some breakfast?’

‘No, no, we will go if we’re allowed to …?’

‘Yes, you are free to leave, but, Hope, please take it steady. Can I help you to shower …?’

‘No, no, thanks, I can manage …’ And with that Hope released their hands and stood up. She wasn’t an invalid; she could get herself ready. She was a bit sore but she could manage. Hope was a tower of strength, and even if, like now, there were times she wasn’t, boy could she fake it. She had reached that moment when if she didn’t move forward somehow, she knew she would tip back into the awfulness of what had happened a

Вы читаете Because of You
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату