Scattering Like Light (32 page)

I came to in the back of an ambulance. A paramedic smiled at me as I looked around. We weren’t going anywhere and the back doors were wide open. I couldn’t help noticing that he had a small fire extinguisher in easy reach.

“I’m not going to burst into flames, you know,” I said pointedly, looking at the extinguisher. “I wasn’t in the water.”

“I know, love, but I’m just taking precautions.” He edged the extinguisher behind him as if my not being able to see it would make all the difference. “So, how are you feeling now?”

I shrugged briefly, not wanting to get drawn into conversation. There was no point in trying to explain the grief and loss: I just didn’t have the words.

“How did you get that then?” he asked in a conversational tone. He gestured to my wrist, which was now covered in a huge bandage. “It looks really similar to all the others.”

I looked at him mutely, not wanting to say anything that would lead to trouble later. A completely inexplicable event was going on outside and I didn’t want to be implicated in any of it; it would all be far too hard to lie my way out of.

“I … umm… It was a kettle. I spilled boiling water over my wrist when I was making a cup of coffee. No big deal.”

“That’s a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

I shrugged, unwilling to say any more. He waited a moment
before sighing and continuing.

“It’s a very nasty burn, deep. You need to go to the A&E department and get them to treat it properly, otherwise it’ll scar badly.”

I swung my legs over the edge of the trolley and sat up. “Thanks for the advice, and thanks for patching me up. I can see that you’re all busy here so I’ll get to my local hospital.”

“Hold hard, love,” he said, putting his hand on my good arm. “If you want to wait a bit we’ll take you.”

“Thanks for the offer, but you must be needed here. Perhaps some of the people in the river will be alive,” I added forlornly.

“I don’t reckon there’s much chance of that. It’s a bad day, that’s for sure. Every single one since we were called out was already dead,” he said gloomily. “Hundreds of them. Only those first two were different.”

I had been edging my way sideways along the trolley towards the door but his words made me freeze. I suddenly found that I couldn’t speak. Swallowing quickly I tried again. “First two? What happened to them?”

“A couple fell off the bridge earlier and were being rescued just as the dead guys started bobbing up out of the water. I don’t think they were anything to do with this.” He waved his arm around to indicate the continuing mayhem on the riverbank.

“And then what?” It took all my self control not to leap up and try and wrestle the information out of him. “Where were they taken?”

“Guy’s Hospital, I think.”

I took a deep breath. “Do you happen to know anything about the couple? Were they male? Female? Ages? That sort of thing.”

“Sorry, love, not a clue. All I know is that the lifeboat pulled them out, and as long as they didn’t manage to torch the ambulance on the way, they’ll be in Guy’s Hospital. Why – are you missing someone?” He looked at me shrewdly.

“Oh, no. Nothing like that.” I cast around quickly for something that sounded convincing and wouldn’t bring the police back to my door, but failed miserably. “I … I just don’t want to think that everyone here today died,” I said, making my lip quiver. The ambulance paramedic looked at me suspiciously, but obviously decided that, whatever I was up to, I wasn’t a danger to anyone.

“If you don’t want to wait for a lift, Guy’s is in that direction.” He pointed over the bridge. “Just get that arm looked at soon, OK?”

I smiled briefly at him as I jumped out of the back of the ambulance. The scene outside was still one of chaos, with people lining the riverbank, shouting and pointing. The sun had almost gone and a deep-pink sky was lighting up all the buildings with a rosy glow. But to the east it was almost dark: the lights were on in all the buildings and the river twinkled with the reflections. All the fires had gone out but the flotilla of little boats was still sweeping up- and downstream, using spotlights to find the smoking piles of rags. I no longer wanted to watch. If Callum had been among them then he was gone, I knew that. I had to rest my hopes on him being one of the two people rescued. I could barely contain my excitement. There was no time to lose. I ran back up to Blackfriars Bridge, where the traffic was still moving, and hailed a cab heading south.

“Where to, darlin’?” asked the cabbie, straining to see past me to the scene down on the river.

“Guy’s Hospital A&E department, please.”

“What’s going on down there then? I heard on the radio
about some sort of boating accident.”

“I don’t really know. It all seems to be a bit chaotic, whatever it is.” I settled back in the seat and let him ramble on about his theory as to what had happened and how the government were to blame. Luckily it didn’t take long to get to the hospital and I had enough money to cover the fare. Once I was alone I stood for a moment outside the entrance, trying to decide on a plan. My heart was racing and my palms clammy. I was also conscious that my wrist was in agony, but I didn’t have time to worry about that. I stepped inside.

The A&E department was bright and surprisingly empty, and I realised that I wasn’t going to be able to mingle with the crowd. The woman behind the desk looked at me sharply, taking in my dishevelled appearance and bandaged arm. “I’m sorry but we’re closed to non-emergency admissions because of a major incident. The next nearest casualty departments are—”

“I don’t need a doctor; I’m here to see someone.” She opened her mouth to object but I carried on quickly. “Someone who was pulled out of the river earlier? I know some survivors have been brought here. I’ve lost my friend and I wondered if it might be him.” It was no time for elaborate lies. I just wanted to see if it was Callum, to see if he was OK.

“Wait here a moment and I’ll see. What’s your friend’s name?”

“Callum.” She looked at me expectantly, hands poised over her keyboard. My stomach was a tight knot of tension. What if it was him? What if it wasn’t? “I’m afraid I don’t know his surname,” I admitted.

She raised an eyebrow ever so slightly and tapped away for a minute. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking up slowly as I practically
broke my fingers gripping the edge of the counter. “If you don’t have a name I can’t confirm anything about the patients who came in earlier.” She looked around behind me. “I’d talk to the police officers if I were you. They’re pretty keen to speak with anyone who knows anything.”

I whipped around, not ready to face the police yet again. As the receptionist peered round me we could both see that the room was almost deserted. “Hmm, they must have gone off to get something to eat. I’ll get them paged for you.”

“No! I mean, please don’t worry about it. I’ll just sit here and speak to them when they come back. Thanks.”

She shrugged and went back to her typing. I sat on one of the cold, hard chairs and tried to think. I needed to get behind the closed doors of the treatment area, but she would see me do that. I couldn’t stand waiting any longer though. After drumming my fingers for a few moments I went back to the desk. “Excuse me, where’s the ladies’?”

The woman looked up briefly and then pointed through a different set of doors. I slid through quickly and found myself in another corridor. Ignoring the loos I marched along as purposefully as I could manage, turning sharply through more doors when I saw the police officers coming towards me.

I worked my way through the maze of corridors, trying to get to the other exit from A&E, the route that patients would be taken if they were being admitted. I eventually made it and could see through the glass doors to the curtained cubicles. Slipping inside, I wondered if I was finally in the same room as Callum.

It was warm and bright in the ward, with none of the expected hum of conversation. Only about a quarter of the cubicles were occupied, the others being emptied ready for the influx of
casualties who were never going to come. I dodged in beside the first closed curtain, listening hard. There were no sounds from within so I gingerly drew it back far enough to sneak in.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: the familiar dark-blonde hair framing the face I knew so well, sleeping peacefully. But it wasn’t the face I loved; it was a face I would detest forever. Rage overtook me and I moved towards the bed.

“How dare you!” I hissed. “How dare you play with all those innocent lives?”

Catherine’s eyes snapped open and her hands flew to her mouth. “And I don’t understand why you’re not lying in a mangled heap in St Paul’s,” I continued hotly. “That at least was what you deserved!”

There was something strangely familiar, yet out of place about the fear in her eyes as I spoke. “I’m s-s-sorry,” she stuttered eventually. “But I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t give me that! This is all your fault. All the others are out there in the river, dead. Dead! And you could have saved them. You make me sick!”

Tears suddenly sprang into her eyes, wobbling on her lower lids. “I really, really don’t know what you’re on about. Who are you? What am I doing here? Why are you and that other woman giving me a hard time?”

“I’ve had enough of your games,” I said harshly, leaning over and making her recoil in fear. “I guess you and Veronica are the two who reappeared then, the ones who were human already.” The crashing disappointment that was coursing through me made furious. “I can’t believe I ever thought you might be helpful. You must be the most evil person on the planet!”

The tears brimmed over and streamed down Catherine’s
cheeks. “But I don’t know anything,” she wailed. “I don’t know who I am or who you are or how I ended up here. I just want someone to help me.”

“Nice act,” I sneered. “I’m sure you’ll have the staff here eating out of your hand in no time.” I stepped away from the bed, fuming and not trusting myself to stay within slapping distance. “So where’s Veronica? I need to talk to someone with some sense, someone who can tell me something useful.”

Catherine sat up, clenching her hands together and looking at me piteously. “I don’t know anything,” she whispered. “Everything is blank.” She started to rock gently backwards and forwards, fidgeting with her hands, making chain links with her forefingers and thumbs, which she pulled against each other in time with the rocking. As I watched her, a strange creeping sensation worked its way down my back. I had only ever seen one person do that before, but she was dead. I’d even seen the body.

“I need to find Veronica,” I muttered, tearing aside the curtain. “I need to know what’s going on.”

There were only three other occupied cubicles. I peeked into the first one to see an old man with an oxygen mask on. The next was a child, covered in bandages. As I stood next to the final curtain I took a deep breath. I knew it was going to be Veronica, but until I saw her there was a small, microscopic chance that it might be him. Once I pulled back that curtain, that chance was gone. I wiped my sweaty palms down my jeans, took a firm grip and pulled.

The cubicle was brightly lit, a body motionless on the raised bed. Next to it a figure in a white coat was adjusting the settings on a machine that beeped constantly. I crept closer, unable to wait any longer to know the truth. Clutching the bar at the side of the
bed, I finally came to the attention of the doctor.

“Excuse me, what are you doing in here?”

But I couldn’t speak. Whatever else she said was lost in a roaring in my ears as I saw the face lying there, strapped to a dozen machines and covered in tubes, a face I knew I would love until the end of time. Callum.

“I asked you what you’re doing in here?” demanded the doctor again.

“I wanted to see if he was safe. Is he OK?”

“Are you family?”

“No, no, I’m a … a friend. Very close friend.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t talk to anyone but family at the moment. You’ll have to wait outside.” She looked at me with scorn for a moment. “Honestly, you journalists. How do you get here so quickly? We only found out who he was about half an hour ago.”

“I’m not a journalist,” I protested, puzzled. “I’m a friend. We’ve been close over the last few months.”

“Well, in that case you’ll understand that we need to keep on our guard. Will you please go and wait in reception?”

“Please, just tell me, is he OK?” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his face, and my fingers reached down to touch his. “Will he be all right?”

Before I could touch him the medic wheeled me around and firmly escorted me out of the cubicle. “Don’t make me call security, there’s a good girl. Wait outside and I’ll come and find you when there’s any news.”

Without ceremony I was ejected through the door and into the waiting room, which was still mostly empty. Exhausted, I slumped down in one of the plastic chairs. Behind me a TV
was fixed to the wall and I tried to ignore the inane chatter of the nation’s favourite soap opera. I had succeeded – Callum was over with me. But was he going to make it? Had I spent too long before getting him into the water? He hadn’t looked burned but he was clearly very ill. Part of me was elated but mostly I didn’t feel I could celebrate until I knew for sure that he was OK.