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Phil’s heart went out to the boy. He knew the situation could never work, and besides, it wasn’t right – not for him and not for Adam. And yet he was made to ponder what alternative there might be.
‘Listen to me, son …’ Sidling closer to Adam, he spoke in a whisper. ‘It seems they think I’m your granddad, but you and I know that is not the case.’
‘We don’t need to tell them, though, do we, Phil? You can still pretend to be my granddad … until Mum comes home.’ His voice shook with emotion. ‘Please, Phil … please!’
Phil felt torn. ‘I’m sorry, son,’ he said, being sensible, ‘I don’t know as I can move into your father’s house. It would be wrong of me, and what if your father comes back? Like as not he’ll have me arrested, and who could blame him?’
‘All right! I’ll come to your house and stay with you.’
‘Aw, son … I don’t know.’ Phil was growing more unsettled by the minute. ‘It’s a bad situation. I don’t want to think on it right now, not until we see how it goes with your mother.’
‘This is all Father’s fault, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know, son. I’m not altogether party to the facts.’ Wisely, Phil was reluctant to commit himself to such far-reaching accusations.
‘It’s true, Phil!’ Adam spelled it out: ‘He’s always hitting her, and she never tells anyone. And now he’s hurt her so bad, he’s got frightened and run away. He should be locked up for ever!’
Phil didn’t really know what to believe, except what he had seen for himself today. And, talking about his father’s brutal treatment of his mother, Adam seemed genuinely afraid.
Phil now voiced his own concerns. ‘There’s a possibility that you could be wrong about what happened. Maybe they had an argument and there really was a terrible accident, and if that’s the case, your father will be worried sick when he gets home. I know one thing for sure, though, he will not be best pleased to see me and my dog taking up residence in his house. After all, I’m not even a relative. I’m just the driver of the school bus who’s got himself caught up in a shocking accident—’
‘It wasn’t an accident! He did it, I know he did!’
‘Sssh!’ Phil instructed Adam, slightly unnerved. ‘Like I say, just now, it’s best not to talk about it too much. Let’s just wait and see how things go. We’ll have a better picture of the situation once the doctor tells us what’s happening. Until then, however difficult it is, we have to be patient.’ He looked the boy in the eye. ‘Agreed?’
With a reluctant nod of the head, Adam had little choice but to agree. ‘When Mum comes home, everything will be all right, though, won’t it, Phil?’
‘Let’s hope so, eh?’ Phil was well aware of the seriousness of this situation.
‘Adam?’ Phil asked.
‘Yes, Phil?’ Adam looked up.
‘I have an idea to pass the time.’ The child’s small, anxious face made Phil immensely sad. ‘Do you know what I was just thinking?’
‘No.’
‘Well, I was thinking how you and me could say a little prayer for your mum. What d’you think?’
‘Oh, yes, please, Phil, I’d like that.’ The tears brimmed over. ‘Do you think it might help Mum to get better? I so much want her to come home. She will, won’t she, Phil?’ Throwing his arms round Phil’s neck, he hugged him so hard that Phil found it difficult to breathe.
Phil held him at arm’s length. ‘Listen to me, Adam. Even if we say a prayer it doesn’t mean that everything will come right. It doesn’t always work like that. All I’m saying is, at certain bad times in my own life, I’ve always found a deal of comfort in saying a little prayer; hoping that somebody up there in the Heavens might be listening, and that somehow they would try and help. The thing is, sometimes, however much they might want to help, they just can’t do it, and we will never know the reason for that. D’you understand what I’m saying?’
‘If you said a prayer, why did they not help you?’
Phil took a deep breath. ‘Well, it seems they weren’t able to give what I really asked for, but they did help me … a little.’
‘In what way?’
Phil was beginning to wish he had never started this, because the painful memories were flooding back. ‘Well, you see, when my dear wife was very ill, I prayed for the Lord to make her better …’ Composing himself, he went on in subdued tones: ‘Sadly, my prayers were not answered, because that was not to be. Thankfully, though, they did stop her pain and I was grateful for that. Maybe she had to leave me, because she had important work to do in Heaven. Maybe someone up there needed her far more than I did.’ Though he could not imagine how that might be, because for almost thirty years she was his world. His reason for living.
And now he had to stop tormenting himself, or the boy would see him cry and that would never do.
Adam’s angry voice penetrated his thoughts: ‘So, you said a prayer and asked for her to get better, then she died and you were sad. I think that was cruel.’
Phil nodded. ‘It was cruel for me, yes, because I miss her every waking moment. But in a way, it was not too cruel for her, because you see, she was no longer in pain. Maybe she would never have got better, and that was why the Good Lord stopped her suffering. Yes, you’re right in one way, because she was taken away from me, and I miss her. But I have so many wonderful memories to keep me warm.’
‘You loved her very much, didn’t you, Phil?’
Phil simply nodded.
‘Did you love her as much as I love my mum?’
‘Oh, yes. I’m sure I did. Y’see, we were together for a very long time.’
‘So, did she say a prayer as well?’
‘Well, I don’t know for sure, because if she did send up a prayer, she never told me. Maybe her pain was so bad, she prayed for it to be gone, and in their wisdom, and because it was her that was in pain and not me, they decided to grant her wish instead of mine. That’s fair enough … don’t you think?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Me neither, son, but we have to believe it was the only way.’
His life was not the same since losing his one and only love, and as long as he lived, it would never be the same again. Like it or not, he had to accept the situation.
He returned to his question: ‘So, knowing that you can’t always have your wish granted, do you still want us to say a little prayer for your mum?’
The boy smiled through his tears. ‘Yes, but I only know the one that Mum used to say before I went to sleep.’
‘Right, then!’ Phil was glad to have diverted the boy’s attention. ‘Only you’ll need to tell me what it is.’
Adam remembered it well. ‘When I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep …’
‘Ah, yes, that’s a good prayer. I like that. We’ll say it together … quietly.’
As they shared the prayer, they had no idea that someone else was listening. Someone who had also heard every word of their conversation.
An auxilary nurse had stopped to stack the linen cupboard next to the visitors’ room where Phil and Adam were quietly talking. The dividing wall was thin and she had innocently overheard every word of their intimate conversation.
Some of what she had overheard was shocking, especially regarding the father. Then the fact that the boy had no relatives, except a brutal father who had left the mother battered … seemingly to within an inch of her life. Unbelievably, after the event, he had callously abandoned his son to whatever fate awaited him; knowing he had no one to turn to.
Having been made aware of this important information, which she suspected may not have been made available to the duty nurse, she was unsure of what to do. Eventually, torn between compassion and her sworn responsibility, she concluded that there was really no choice at all. She softly closed the wide cupboard doors and made her way down the corridor at a smart pace. In view of Mrs Carter’s life-threatening injuries, she realised there was not a moment to lose.
As the auxilary nurse arrived at the door of the main office, the matron entered the room where Phil and Adam were impatiently waiting for news.
‘How is she?’ Phil enquired.
‘She’s out of surgery,’ the matron said. ‘Mr Hendon is a very reputable surgeon. I can assure you no one could have done better. He will answer all your questions, I’m sure, but for the moment he’s been called away to advise on another emergency. He needs to speak with you, and of course he’s aware you will have questions, so I’m sure he won’t be too long.’
‘Where’s my mum? Can I see her? Can she talk to me?’ Anxious for information, Adam pushed between the matron and Phil, his questions coming thick and fast. ‘Please, Nurse, can I just see her? Is she awake?’
In a reassuring manner, the matron informed him, ‘Your mother is out of surgery and in the recovery room. She’s tired and a bit groggy, which is understandable. A moment ago she opened her eyes and asked for you, so I do believe it would do her a world of good to see you. But you must not excite her, and you can only stay for a minute or two.’
Looking up at Phil, she explained, ‘She desperately needs to rest, but as she’s so very anxious to see her son, the surgeon has agreed for you both to visit, with myself in attendance.’ She lowered her voice. ‘You understand, she is not long out of major surgery. So when the nurse beckons you away, you will be expected to leave immediately.’
Nervously, Phil dared to ask, ‘But she did come through the surgery well, didn’t she?’
The matron glanced again at the boy, then she gave Phil an aside look that made his heart sink; for it seemed to warn him that things had not gone as well as they had hoped. ‘Like I say, the surgeon will speak with you presently.’
As she turned to leave, the door opened and the surgeon walked in.
A man of impressive stature and authority, he greeted Phil and Adam with a warm, sincere smile. ‘I’m sorry to have kept you both waiting, but I was called away.’
Phil’s questions were direct: ‘How is she … really? Are you concerned, or did it all go as well as you would have liked?’
Aware that Adam was also awaiting his answer, the surgeon chose his words carefully. ‘As you must understand, there were major injuries to deal with, and yes, of course there were some very worrying moments, but she put up a good fight and we must pray that she makes a good recovery.’
He now directed his advice to the boy. ‘Your mother is very weak. You must not expect to be with her for longer than a few minutes, and when the nurse indicates that it’s time to leave, you must do as she asks. You do understand, don’t you?’
Even though he ached to see his mother, Adam wanted what was best for her. ‘Yes, sir, I understand. I just need to see her.’
‘And so you will.’ He turned to the nurse. ‘Matron, please will you take these gentlemen along to see Mrs Carter?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thank you. Oh, and I’m afraid I need to commandeer two of your nurses.’
Matron pursed her lips in disapproval, but her smile soon reassured him. ‘As long as I get them back.’
‘Don’t worry.’ After working together for many years, these two understood each other.
Before excusing himself from their presence, he turned to Adam. ‘From the little your mother could tell us, she lost her footing and tumbled all the way down the stairs. Did you see her fall?’
Adam glanced nervously at Phil before answering, ‘No, sir. I wasn’t there. I came home from school and found her lying near the bottom of the steps.’
‘I see.’ He took a breath. ‘Your mother will be pleased to see you, but she’ll be a little groggy from the anaesthetic. She may not be able to say much, but she will hear you when you talk to her … Remember, a few minutes only.’
‘Will my mum be strong enough to come home soon?’ Adam asked.
The surgeon gave the only answer he could. ‘We can’t say at this time, because she still has a long way to go. Your mother was very badly injured, but I can assure you, we have done everything possible to help her. I’m sure your mum wants to get home to you as soon as possible. Oh, and you mustn’t be too frightened when you see her. She’s surrounded by machines; all there to assist her recovery. Both her arms are wrapped in plaster casts, and she carries a great number of nasty bruises.’ He deliberately made no mention of the numerous internal injuries; some of which would take many months to repair.
He placed his hands on Adam’s small shoulders. ‘I’m telling you now so that you won’t be alarmed when you see her. All right?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Adam was shaken, but determined. ‘When she gets better, she’ll be coming home, won’t she …? When her bones mend and all that?’
The surgeon tried to put it tactfully. ‘We can’t really say how long it will take her to recover. Your mum has been through a shocking ordeal, and hours of major surgery, and now it’s imperative that she gets rest and care.’
‘Then she’ll be all right, won’t she?’ Adam was relentless in his need for reassurance. ‘We’ll be able to take her home soon, won’t we?’
The surgeon was equally determined not to raise the boy’s hopes. ‘In these early stages of recovery, we must not even think of her as being in a hurry to get home. I’m sorry, I know it’s hard for you, but you have to try to understand.’
Tearful now, Adam appealed to Phil. ‘Tell him, Phil. I want my mum to come home really soon. I’ll look after her, you know I will.’
Phil nodded. ‘I know you would, son, but like the doctor says, your mum needs time to recover where the doctors and nurses can keep an eye on her. And besides, I’ll bring you to see her every day. Meantime, she’ll want you to be attending school and trying to get on with your life as normal. You know that, don’t you?’
Reassured by Phil’s persuasive remarks, the boy looked up at the surgeon. ‘Please, can I see my mum now?’
‘Of course.’ Being a family man, Mr Hendon was full of sympathy for the boy. ‘Matron will take you along.’
The surgeon departed ahead of them, while directly behind him, Matron led Phil and Adam along the same corridor, to the recovery room.
Throughout the long, worrying walk, Adam kept his gaze to the floor, while Phil looked ahead, his mind troubled by the look in the surgeon’s eyes when asked about Peggy Carter’s condition.
He watched as Mr Hendon, still ahead of them, turned into what looked like the main office. His interest was heightened when he drew alongside the office and he saw the surgeon earnestly talking with two official-looking people.
As Phil glanced in, one of the officials caught sight of them passing by the window. He then beckoned his colleague, and she looked out of the window, directly at young Adam.
Phil’s concern intensified. Discreetly, he put his hand on Adam’s shoulder and hurried him along.
‘Who were those people?’ Adam asked. ‘Why were they looking at me?’
‘They probably heard our clattering feet hurrying along, and were curious,’ he reassured Adam.
Phil, however, felt decidedly nervous. He was in no doubt that the officials were interested in the boy. Also, they had appeared to be engaged in deep conversation with the surgeon. Maybe it had nothing to do with Adam or his mother, but Phil had a bad feeling, which he could not shake off.
He glanced at the boy. Such an innocent; his young heart filled with loathing for his cowardly father who had left such a trail of devastation in his wake. And now, he was so afraid his mother would never get well again. Yet through all his crippling unhappiness, Adam gave no thought to himself. Nor did he realise the precarious position he had been put in by his father’s abandonment of him.
At the door of the recovery room, Matron peered in through the glass panel. ‘Don’t forget, a few minutes, that’s all,’ she warned.
After Adam gave an appreciative nod, she turned the handle and pushed open the door to usher them inside.
Phil and the boy were shocked to see the small, vulnerable figure lying in the high bed, her face turned away and her two arms wrapped in thick, stiff plaster. There was a kind of pulley over the top of the bed, with support-joints stretching down; two ends attached to the root of the pulley, and the other ends attached to the plaster-encased limbs, which were very slightly elevated above the patient.
Phil’s interest was immediately drawn to the heart-tracking machine.
‘Carefully now.’ Matron accompanied Adam to the bedside, where she sat him down on a chair right beside the bed and close to his mother, whose badly bruised face was turned towards him. She appeared restless, intermittently shifting her head back and forth, and making a low, whining sound, much like an animal in pain.
Unsettled by this sound, Phil fixed his troubled gaze on the heart monitor; he was greatly relieved to see the screen showed a steady beat.
Taking a seat beside the boy, Phil rested his arm on the back of Adam’s chair, while his sorry gaze also travelled the visible dark bruises on Peggy Carter’s body. Deeply unsettled, she appeared to be unaware of their presence.
‘Mum?’ With a shaky voice, Adam called out twice. ‘Mum, it’s Adam. I’ve come to see you.’ Reaching up, the boy tenderly clasped the tip of his mother’s fingers where they jutted from the plaster cast. ‘Phil’s here too, Mum. He’s been looking after me.’
When the tears rolled down his face and his voice began to tremble, Phil slid a comforting arm around him. ‘Easy, son. You remember what the doctor said: your mum might not be able to speak, but she might possibly be able to hear you. So, just try and tell her the things that are in your heart. Let her know that everything is all right, that she’s not to worry about you. And tell her you’ll be here to see her often, until she’s well enough to come home.’
So that was what Adam did. He told his mother how very much he loved her. ‘I’ll be so glad if you can get better really quickly, and then you’ll be able to come home and we’ll be together, and I’ll take care of you until you’re strong again.’
Both Phil and Adam were astonished when her eyes flickered open and she looked straight at her son. Her lips were moving, but when she attempted to speak, the mumbled words were lost in a choking sound.
