“Thank you so much, officer,” Pat said, and gave the cringing smile she hated giving. She hated getting in because she was white and had the right kind of voice, too, but she wasn’t going to start any fights. She shepherded the children away.
By the time they reached London it was early evening and they had been travelling for twenty-four hours without a break. All of them except Philip were exhausted. Philip had an amazing capacity to sleep in any circumstances, which he had not lost when he left babyhood. Pat took a taxi to the hospital, with the children and the luggage. At reception she asked for Bee, and was told that only relatives could visit and that children were not admitted under any circumstances. She could have sat down and wept, and perhaps the woman on the desk recognised her distress. “Her fiancé is with her. I’ll send somebody to see if you can speak to him.”
“Her fiancé?” Pat blinked.
“Yes.”
After a long wait, Michael came out, and Pat understood. “Oh Pat, thank goodness you’re here.” The children ran to him and he bent down and made a fuss of them.
“They won’t let me see Bee,” Pat said, over their heads.
“Let me talk to them. Wait.” Michael went up to the desk and argued with the receptionist. Pat tried to keep Philip still. Flossie started to cry. After a while Michael came back. “They’ll let you in for just a minute. I’ll stay with the children. You should have said you were her sister. I told them you were my sister, and she’s stretching a point.”
“And you told them you’re Bee’s fiancé?”
“That was Bee’s idea. Otherwise they’d only talk to Donald, and he had to go back up to Penrith, the sheep needed him. You have to be a relative, in hospital. Friends aren’t anything.” He patted her shoulder. “Go in and see her and then I’ll talk to you.”
Pat followed the directions and found herself in a big ward full of women in beds. All the beds had tight white covers pulled over them. At the end of the room was a television, blasting out a soap opera. Most of the beds had visitors. When Pat saw Bee she couldn’t understand how the shape she made under the covers was so small. She was wearing a hospital gown but had Pat’s old green silk scarf wound around her neck. She bent down and embraced her. They were both weeping. “Oh Pat,” Bee said. “I feel like such a fool.”
“I’m just so glad you’re alive,” Pat said. “I kept thinking how you could have been killed.”
“Might have been better,” Bee said. “No, I don’t mean that. But I’ve had six operations, and they’ve given up on trying to save the knees. I’ll never walk again. I’m going to be in a wheelchair forever, no two ways about it.”
“We’ll find ways to cope,” Pat said. “I love you so much. I couldn’t have managed without you.”
“Good to see you too,” Bee said, and smiled. “Everyone’s looking at us.”
“I don’t care,” Pat said. “Will it hurt you if I sit down on the bed?”
“Yes,” Bee said. “Everything hurts me. I’ll have to get used to that. And goodness knows how I’m going to manage in the lab.”
Pat sat on the chair by the bed and took Bee’s hand in hers. “When are they going to let you out of here?”
“It could be a while. But now you’re here maybe if you want I can get them to send me to the Addison in Cambridge, which is just as good.” Bee bit her lip. “I didn’t know if they’d let you in. We told them Michael was—”
“I know. It was a good idea. Michael told them I’m his sister. If you move you to Cambridge we can tell them I’m your sister.”
“Hate having to lie,” Bee said. “It isn’t illegal, for women.”
“No, but no point getting into trouble. The children. I had a hard time bringing Jinny into the country. She was very good, she said just the right thing.”
“How are they?” Bee asked, and her face crumpled.
“They’re wonderful. We came back on the train and they were all three really good. They’re longing to see you, but there’s no hope of getting them in here.”
“You do still—I mean, I’m going to be useless. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to work. I don’t want—”
“Bee, you wouldn’t be useless even if you were just a head in a jar,” Pat said. “And I still want you. I wish this hadn’t happened because it’s a horrible thing to happen to you, but I love you as much as ever, more than ever.”
“I’ll ask about the move to the Addison, then,” Bee said. “I think—it could be months before I’m out. And at the moment it’s all bedpans, and it might always be bedpans.”
“I can cope,” Pat said. “If it has to be bedpans, you’re worth it.”
Then a bell rang for the end of visiting time, and she had to leave.
20
“It’ll Change Everything”: Trish 1973–1977
George took his O Levels in the summer of 1973 and passed everything with flying colors—seven As and two Bs, far better marks than Doug or Helen had ever brought home. He elected to do sciences at A Level—Maths, Physics and Chemistry. “I want to do space science, Mum,” he said. Tricia remembered his enthusiasm for the moon landing and smiled.