Suddenly Jacob and I were a couple again, united by the news we had received. Moving as one, automatically. Side by side we let Flo out, Jacob holding my hand tightly as we said our goodbyes. The news had shifted something fundamental between us, as natural and huge as an earthquake.
‘Let’s get to Beth and tell her the news,’ I said.
I wanted to apologise for not realising the secrets you were carrying, Beans. I needed to let you know that now the truth was finally out and the lies were over, I would find my courage and spend every spare second with you until you were better.
Excitement fizzed through me too. I was convinced you would react once you heard you were safe and justice was being done. There would be a twitch of an eyelid, a squeeze of my hand, and it would mark the start of your journey back to us. I’d do anything I could until you were the happy girl you had been a month ago. I would never allow myself to give up hope again. I would do whatever it took to fight for this family.
As we hurried along the warren of hospital corridors, your dad and I held hands. Everything felt sorted, and it could only be a matter of time before you came home and we were a proper family again.
Outside your room, we stopped and washed our hands with the obligatory sanitiser. I was rinsing, lips quirking at the thought of seeing your own smile again one day soon, when I heard it.
An alarm. Harsh, ear-splitting in the quiet.
Jacob ran two steps ahead of me. He stopped so suddenly I almost crashed into the back of him.
Your monitors were flashing like a cheap disco. Your face was a delicate grey. Then you disappeared behind a horde of nurses who bolted into your room. Your dad and I flattened ourselves against the wall, not daring to get in the way.
‘We’re taking Beth for a CT scan,’ someone called as they whisked you away.
We were left alone. Eyes huge, faces drawn, punch-drunk from emotional blow after emotional blow. How long we stood like that, I couldn’t tell you. We didn’t move until the consultant came back in and took us to a quiet room just off the corridor that led to yours.
When he sat down, he gave a sigh. Tiny, involuntary, but enough for me to brace myself.
‘As you know, a month ago Beth suffered an epidural haematoma due to a blunt impact to the head. When she first arrived here, she had a build-up of blood between the brain and skull. That’s why we operated, to stop it.’
Jacob and I nodded. We didn’t need this recap; it was something we would never forget.
‘Well, now the brain has haemorrhaged again. Beth is suffering severe intracranial pressure – so severe that the brain is being crushed against the skull.’
‘You’re going to operate again?’ questioned Jacob.
The doctor’s mouth gave a sad little twist. ‘I’m afraid that this time there is no point. I’m sorry, Mr and Mrs Oak.’
I groaned at the blow, my body folding over. Vision darkening at the edges as I fought not to pass out. The thing I had feared most was finally coming true.
Oh, Beth, my beautiful girl. How could we live without you?
‘Why won’t you operate this time?’ Jacob asked eventually, his voice brittle.
‘The bleeding is so severe that there’s virtually no chance we could stop it. Even if we could, signals from Beth’s brain to her heart are no longer getting through properly. She’s dying. There’s nothing we can do; nothing anyone can do.
‘When her heart stops beating, we don’t think it would be appropriate treatment for the team to give Beth chest compressions. We have tried everything to make her better, and it isn’t working.’
‘So, what…’ My lips were stuck to my teeth. I licked them. Tried to make my mouth work properly. ‘What happens now? How long… ?’
‘Do you have friends and family you would like to call to say goodbye to Beth?’
‘Everyone in the family will want to be here,’ replied Jacob.
‘Then you need to call them right now. Are there any religious ceremonies that you would like to have arranged before she goes?’
I shook my head.
‘Have you ever considered organ donation?’
We flinched simultaneously. I looked at Jacob. He looked at me.
‘She, umm, she… Beth would like that,’ he managed. ‘She’s always liked to help people.’
He threw his head into his hands then, shoulders jerking, with dry sobs wracking his body.
Seventy-Seven
The nurses worked quickly and efficiently around each other, as if in a dance. They pulled the endotracheal tube from down your throat. The nasogastric tube from up your nose. The conduit from the intracranial pressure bolt in your head. The cannula at your wrist.
They wheeled away machinery, and all manner of things, until finally all that was left was you, Beth.
Already you looked more peaceful.
I stroked your long blonde hair. Trying to burn the feel of it into my memory forever, terrified that one day its exact texture couldn’t be recalled. The wiriness of the red hairs; the silken gloss of the golds. I arranged it to cover the shaved part of your head and fanned it across the pillow. You looked like a Pre-Raphaelite painting.
Your breathing sounded shallow and laboured.
‘Beth? Please, Beans, wake up. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.’ Jacob leaned over you as he spoke, staring at your eyes intently. His hand rested in your loose, open palm.
You didn’t respond, my love.
My own hand slid across your dad’s back, back and forth in an oval motion, comforting him as I used to comfort you when you were tiny.
Can you remember that, Beth? Can you remember my touch? Can you remember our love?
I looked across at a nurse, standing awkwardly to one side, taking in the futile scene of a father trying to save a daughter through sheer force of will. I cleared my throat, aware of each sound, each movement.
‘Could we have some time alone, please?’
The nurse stirred into action. ‘Certainly.’
As soon as he had left the room, my arms wrapped around Jacob’s sinewy body and I leaned my face on his back as he gazed, immovable, at you. His whole body tensed against me, then quaked with silent tears.
‘Oh, Jacob, honey.’ There was nothing I could say. No words of comfort I could give when my own heart was breaking too.
‘How can I let her go?’ he sobbed, sinking to his knees, still clinging to your hand. I went with him, kneeling by his side and taking his face in my hands.