They Thought I Was Dead: Sandy’s Story

108 March 2018

I heard his footsteps, then felt his weight on the end of my bed, by my feet. His voice was different now, gentle, intimate.

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

I didn’t answer.

‘What happened? Tell me. Why didn’t you contact me?’

I felt him hold my left hand. Had he noticed I was wearing my wedding ring? Of course he had, he was a sharp detective.

I wondered, at this moment, what would have happened if I’d thrown my arms around him and showered his face and neck with kisses.

‘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.’

God, I felt so many good emotions welling up. Yes, I so wanted to say. Yes, please!

Then he threw a dampener.

‘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?’

He stopped for a while. I wanted to reply, to break this silence, but it felt easier just to keep my eyes shut.

‘Do you not care at all? I think I deserve to know.’

He was still holding my hand. It was a hand I had once known so well but now did not feel belonged to him.

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

I didn’t want to tell him I already knew that, because I had tracked him online since I had left, looking for mentions of him. That might come across as odd. He spoke some more, and I just listened until I felt him let go of my hand and the weight rise from the end of the bed.

I opened my eyes and looked directly at him. He was looking at me. ‘Going already, Roy?’

He gave an awkward smile and sat back down.

It was hard, speaking, my throat was raw from the breathing tube that had been down it for a long while, but I managed, my voice sounding a little raspy. ‘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.’

‘Thanks.’

He shot a glance at his watch and I realized, disappointedly, he probably had a plane to catch. With his bride.

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

I’ve no idea why I added that. Roy wasn’t remotely religious.

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

He was looking at me intently and I wondered just what he did know about these past years. ‘I expect you’ve heard the bad bits, the drugs and the 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.’ I really do want to explain it all to him, to show him how sorry I am. To start again. I just don’t feel he wants to. And that breaks my heart.

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

I nodded, completely dispirited.

‘Who’s the father?’

I hesitated. ‘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.’

He nodded. I could see sympathy in his face, but I could also see anger.

‘Have you spoken to your parents?’

‘No,’ I lied.

‘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?’

I suddenly felt his questioning was intrusive. This was not the reunion I’d planned. This was not our eyes locking, then us embracing, telling each other how much we had missed each other. And Roy forgiving me.

‘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,’ I said, almost raging.

He raised his voice, just a little, but enough for me to feel his pent-up anger. ‘What the hell did you expect me to do?’

I closed my eyes. It was too painful to look at his face. ‘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.’

I couldn’t help it. I started crying.

He took my 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 fell silent for a moment, then his expression changed and he told me all about dear Marlon the goldfish. How he loves him because he’s the one connection he still has to me.

I stayed silent. I didn’t want to tell him I’d seen Marlon only a few months ago.

It felt like he was messing with my head. I was in shock that he had come and even more shocked that he had brought Cleo with him. But most of all, I guess, I was angry that both of them had seen me like this. I wasn’t a pretty sight. Most times when I used the bathroom, I couldn’t even bear to look at my face in the mirror.

‘I think you should leave now, Roy, I didn’t ask you to come. I’m getting tired,’ I replied.

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

I said nothing as he stood up. I could barely see him through the blur of tears streaming down my face. He reached the door, turned to look back at me, fleetingly, then was gone.

I lay there for a long time, hoping no damned nurse or doctor would come in. So much to think about. Roy’s anger, for one.

What were he and Cleo talking about now, probably in a taxi back to the airport? What was she thinking? Was she wondering what he had ever seen in me?

Was he wondering the same?

Cleo must be a decade younger than me. She was everything that I wasn’t, and now would never be. I would be permanently disfigured as well as a semi-invalid. If he was ever going to take me back, it would have been here, when he had come alone into this room. He would have thrown his arms around me and held me tightly, told me it did not matter how I looked, nor how badly injured I was, he still loved me to bits and we’d repair everything and start our life together all over.

Instead he’d been angry.

Almost bitter.

Demanding answers.

Brought his new wife in as if to gloat.

Oh shit. I am never going to be happy. I have no purpose in this life.

There was a large light fitting directly above me. It looked like it had been way over-engineered for its purpose of shining a light down onto the bed, it was more like one of those gantries you see on motorways. It was fixed to the ceiling and looked like it could support an elephant hanging from it.

It would take my weight, no question.