Taking her seat in the waiting room again, once the nurse had gently told her she had to leave Kane, she sat on. She knew Edgar Grant had relaxed the strict visiting hours in her case and she was grateful, but she didn’t want to leave the hospital again until she had to. He might wake up, and if he did, she wanted to be near.
She was allowed in Kane’s room for another five minutes before she went home that evening, and the same pattern was repeated the next day. Kane remained absolutely still, so still she had to lean forwards to check if he was still breathing.
It was a full forty-eight hours before Edgar Grant was sure Kane was winning the fight he’d talked about. Until then his patient had remained in that other world but his temperature had gone up and down with alarming suddenness and his blood pressure had been all over the place. A man who prided himself on remaining detached from his patients, Grant found himself taking a particular interest in this case. Not only because of the difficult and gruelling hours he’d spent putting Kane’s legs together again, but because of his patient’s heroic battle to live against all the odds, and the beautiful woman waiting for him.
Sophy was in her usual place in the waiting room when Grant walked in just before midday on the third day after Kane had been admitted to the hospital. She was alone, although over the last two days Sadie had joined her on occasion, along with Ralph who had proved a tower of strength. Ralph was so sure Kane would pull through it was difficult to think otherwise when he was present. It was when she was by herself that the demons came. If she had faced it once, she had faced a hundred times the thought of a life without Kane in it, and she knew if he died it would be the end of her. Oh, she might continue to exist, to function on a day-to-day basis and go through the motions of life, but she knew the core of her, the place from whence came all joy and happiness, would shrivel away.
Now everything had become so crystal clear, she wondered how she could have got it so wrong before. Kane had showed her in a million different ways over the years the sort of man he was. Who he was had been there, in front of her eyes, the whole time. And his last act, and she prayed with all her heart it wouldn’t be that in reality, of saving her at the cost of himself, wouldn’t even have entered Toby’s mind.
She was sitting in a shaft of sunlight from the small window in the waiting room when the surgeon walked in. She had been half-dozing, so tired her limbs felt like lead and her mind fuzzy, but even so she had kept up the steady begging and pleading and wild promises to God she’d engaged in since the accident. She had got to know the routine of the hospital a little during the last days, and she knew that this consultant – this god as the medical staff seemed to regard him – did the rounds of his patients every morning between eleven and twelve o’clock. She jumped up, with an alertness she would have thought herself incapable of a second before.
When he motioned for her to sit down again she did so, but on the very edge of the chair. She could read nothing from his face. He was the most reserved individual she had ever come across. And then he contradicted this thought when his face split into a smile, the second since she’d known him. ‘Mr Gregory is back with us, Mrs Shawe, and waiting to see you. Only a few minutes though, I’m afraid. We mustn’t tire him. There’s still a long way to go.’
She was glad now she was sitting down. And she must have looked as she felt because Mr Grant said, with some concern, ‘Are you all right, Mrs Shawe? Can I get you a glass of water?’
‘No, no.’ The faintness was receding. ‘Oh thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what to say.’
His smile was back. ‘“Thank you” is more than adequate. Now as I say, ten minutes at the most.’
She sat for a moment more when he had gone, endeavouring to overcome the choking sensation that was filling her breast as she told herself she couldn’t cry. This wasn’t the time to cry. He was going to be all right. He was conscious and in his right mind, and he was going to get better. Ralph had been right.
No nurse accompanied her into the little room off the main surgical ward this time, although as she walked across the highly polished floor towards Kane’s door, the Sister called, ‘Ten minutes, Mrs Shawe. No more. Doctor’s orders.’
She hesitated for one moment as she reached the room, her heart thudding so hard she couldn’t breathe. When she pushed open the door and stepped inside, his gaze was waiting for her. He had been propped up slightly by a wad of pillows under his back and his face was as white as the pillowslips, but his eyes were brilliantly blue as he looked at her. She thought he breathed her name as she covered the distance between them in one second, bending, and with no sense of decorum, pressing her lips against his.