Love You Dead

73 Tuesday 10 March

Standing in the small bay with the vending machines, Roy squinted at the choices then pressed the button for a large espresso.

‘Christ,’ Cleo said, ‘she looks awful. What did she mean by good luck?’

‘I don’t know — I’ve no idea.’

‘Listen,’ Cleo said, sipping her scalding tea, looking a little numb and shaken. ‘You have a lot of questions you need answers for. I think you should go back in and spend a few minutes with her alone. I don’t need to be there.’

He hesitated, then nodded.

‘I’ll go downstairs for some fresh air, wait for you out the front. Get some answers, she owes you that at least.’

He headed back to the ward and entered Sandy’s room again, closing the door behind him. She appeared to be asleep. His heart was hammering as he looked down at her silent figure, her eyes still closed, then perched on the end of the bed.

‘Hi, Sandy,’ he said. ‘I–I can’t believe it’s really you. After all this time. Nearly eleven years.’

He stared intently at her, at the woman he had loved so much, once. Despite much of her face being covered in scar tissue and bandages he could see how much she had aged in the intervening years. She wasn’t the Sandy who had walked out on him any more. All kinds of memories flashed through his mind, and he tried to link them to this woman lying here. But she remained a stranger. ‘What happened? Tell me. Why didn’t you contact me?’

She did not respond.

He took her hand, and lapsed back for some moments into his thoughts. Thinking how different things might have been. Wondering what he would do if she suddenly opened her eyes and threw her arms round him. ‘I’ve got a son,’ he said. ‘Noah. He’s eight months old. Maybe one day when you’re better we can meet and be friends. I’d like to think that’s possible. But before any of that can happen I need some answers. I need a lot of answers. Why did you leave? Why didn’t you make contact? Do you have any idea of the hell you put me through? Do you not care at all? I think I deserve to know.’

Her face showed no sign of any reaction.

Her hand felt strange, alien. ‘You were always so ambitious for me, wanting me to get to a higher rank than my dad. Well, I’ve been lucky. I reached Detective Superintendent. Did you ever think I’d do that?’

He waited, then said, ‘Me neither. I’m head of Major Crime for Sussex — although our branch has merged with Surrey. Lots of politics now that we didn’t have eleven years ago. I love my job, but there are days when I have doubts. Policing has become so damned politically correct. There’s good things about that and bad. All of us walk on eggshells, scared of offending almost anyone.’ He paused and looked down at her. ‘God, I wish we could just talk, tell each other all the stuff that’s happened in each of our lives in this past decade.’

He looked up at the bank of monitors and dials. They were all meaningless to him. ‘There’s a million things I want to ask you. One day, yes? Maybe?’

He glanced at his watch. Then as he looked back at her, he suddenly had a flash of déjà vu. He remembered sitting beside his father’s body, laid out in the funeral parlour in his pyjamas. His stone-cold hand. That was no longer his father, Jack Grace, the man he had loved so much. It was just a husk. An empty shell. His father had long departed it. And that was how he felt now. This was a husk, too. Breathing, perhaps, but a husk all the same. It wasn’t the Sandy he had known and loved. It was just a shell. The Sandy he had known and loved no longer occupied it.

Letting go of her hand, he stood up, abruptly. Her eyes opened, and she said, ‘Going already, Roy?’

He felt a catch in his throat. He sat back down, on the edge of the bed.

‘I’m pleased you’ve done well at work, that you’ve got to where you always wanted to be. Head of Major Crime. Detective Superintendent. I like that, it sounds good, sort of suits you.’

He smiled. ‘Thanks.’

‘And you’ve got the son you always wanted. Noah’s a nice name. Very biblical.’

‘Yes, I suppose it is. We both just liked it. So you’ve heard my download; now tell me what’s been happening in your life. I’ve heard bits and pieces.’

She gave him an almost guilty smile. ‘I expect you’ve heard the bad bits, the drugs and depression and failed relationships. I’ve got some good bits too — I’m independently wealthy and I’ve got a son who’s ten.’

‘OK, so what I have to know is why you left me? What happened, where did you go? Did I do something wrong?’

‘It’s a long story, Roy, but not for today. I will explain, I promise.’

‘OK, tell me about your son. Bruno, is that his name?’

She nodded.

‘Who’s the father?’

‘That’s also for another day, Roy.’

‘OK, let’s focus on the future then. How’s your recovery going, what are your plans when you get out?’

‘I haven’t been doing that well. They told me a while ago that I was lucky to be alive — that when they brought me in they didn’t expect me to survive. I’ve had a serious head injury, I’ve got a spinal injury and I don’t know yet if I’ll ever be able to walk properly — without a limp or a stick. They’ve removed my spleen. My face is a mess, I’ll be permanently scarred — who’s going to want me? And I worry about Bruno.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘Friends are looking after him for the moment. It’s not been easy bringing up a child as a single mum, even with the money.’

‘Have you spoken to your parents?’

‘No.’

‘Do you want me to call them?’

‘No, I’ll speak to them when I’m — when I’m ready.’

‘Are there any other people you’d like me to contact?’

‘No, certainly not. How did you find me anyway? I didn’t want you here, I really don’t want to be doing this. I don’t need this right now, it’s too much, Roy.’

‘You know there are all kinds of legal ramifications. I’m going to have to report this to both the German and Sussex Police.’

‘You had me declared dead.’

He started to raise his voice. ‘What the hell did you expect me to do?’

She closed her eyes for some moments and appeared to have fallen asleep again. Suddenly, she said, ‘I’m due to see the consultant this week, he’s going to talk about my treatment in the future and my prognosis. Now I’m starting to get stronger, slowly, they’ll be wanting to move me out of this hospital. But I’m quite worried about that, I don’t know how I’m going to cope on my own. I feel so alone, Roy. So alone in the world. Now you’re bringing me all this, I can’t face it.’ She began to cry.

He took her hand again and held it tightly. ‘You’ll be fine. I’ll do what I can to help. It wasn’t my intention to upset you, but I have to know the truth — you turned my life upside down, and now you’re doing it again.’ He paused for a moment. ‘There’s something that might make you smile. Remember Marlon? The goldfish I won at that fairground on the Level in Brighton by target shooting — I guess about eleven years ago? We brought it home in a plastic bag, and we didn’t know if it was a him or her. You named him Marlon, after Marlon Brando, because you thought he was such a moody creature. You said that fairground goldfish never live for long and it would be dead in a few months. Well, you know what, he’s still alive! Still going strong. Still miserable as hell! I’ve bought him several companions over the years, and each time the sod has eaten them! I love that fish because — it may sound daft — because he’s been the one connection I still have to you. Every day when I wake up and go downstairs, I hope he’s still alive and that I’m not going to find him floating on the top of his tank. And when I see him, I smile. You probably think that’s daft, don’t you?’

‘I think you should leave now, Roy, I didn’t ask you to come. I’m getting tired,’ was all she said in reply.

He let go of her hand. ‘Well, I still need answers. I’ll come back and see you again soon.’

He turned and walked out of the room, looking back at her one last time.

Sandy lay there, tears streaming down her face.