The Well (43 page)

Helen winced and sucked in her breath as the nurse fed the needle back into her skin. Despite the local anaesthetic, it felt like she was digging into her with a knife.

“I’m sorry,” said the nurse, automatically.

“It’s OK,” Helen replied, absently.

“I know it feels bad,” said the nurse, “but I’m going a bit slower to try to get it as neat as I can – to try to reduce the scarring.”

Helen nodded, but didn’t reply.

More than anything, Helen felt alone. She’d asked about Sammy and been told that she was in surgery, but no more. She knew that Abby would be with her, or waiting outside and wished that she could be with her, holding her hand.

26

It was just like in the television hospital dramas. The surgeon came out of the theatre first, accompanied by a nurse, and asked to talk to Abby. He led her to a small, informal meeting room. Abby was shaking with fear, desperate for answers but scared to ask. She sat down, anxious for the surgeon to speak.

“It’s not all good news, I’m afraid,” he said.

Abby stifled a sob, fearing the worst.

“The main thing is that Samantha is doing well, very well really. We can’t say for certain at this stage, but it’s looking very hopeful.”

“What does that mean?” asked Abby. “She could still die?”

“It was touch and go for a bit,” admitted the surgeon. “And while there is still that chance, I’m pretty confident that she’ll pull through.”

Abby felt sick with relief. “Oh, thank you,” she said, meaning it sincerely.

The surgeon waited while Abby composed herself and then pressed on. “As I said, it’s not all good news. The knife went in here –” he indicated to the side of his lower abdomen, “– just about missing her bladder. Well, actually, he did nick it, but only just. The knife went in just above it, chipping the pubic bone. If she’d had a full bladder, he might well have hit it. That can be very serious – not just the wound itself, but also the damage caused by releasing waste into the body.”

He paused and Abby saw the nurse briefly glance at him.

“I’m really sorry to tell you that the knife penetrated the uterus – and pretty deeply,” said the surgeon. “That’s where a lot of the blood was coming from.”

“Oh God,” said Abby.

The surgeon held up his hand and continued. “We have been able to repair the wound – just about. The last thing we wanted to do was perform an emergency hysterectomy on an eight-year-old girl. But the uterus isn’t an easy organ to repair. Overall, we do think she will be fine, but the next few days will be critical.”

Abby’s mind was racing, but the surgeon got there first.

“The really bad news is that we’d probably advise against Samantha having children. Despite our best efforts, I’d say that her womb is permanently compromised. I don’t really think that she could carry a baby to term.”

Abby slumped back in the chair and screwed up her tear-filled eyes tight, pressing her hands over them. Outside, in the corridor, people walking by couldn’t help but hear her inconsolable wailing.

1

“Can I just read this back to you?” Stephen asked Hannah. She sat herself a little further up in the hospital bed and nodded. “Yep.”

Julia sat beside her, holding her hand; she’d spent the night wandering between Hannah’s hospital room and Ed’s. By the doctors’ own admission, Hannah was fine – they were just keeping her in the hospital while they ran some blood tests; she’d probably be discharged that morning.

Stephen Carter and Jenny Greenwood sat on the other side of the bed. Stephen had questioned Hannah, Abby and Helen and got the same story – he intended to talk to Becca when she came around and was strong enough to be interviewed.

“You said that both you and Samantha were suspicious of Mister Randle, because Rebecca was scared of him?”

Hannah nodded.

“You told Samantha’s Mum, and you all followed him to the well.”

Hannah nodded again.

“Why didn’t you tell the police?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Hannah. “Right now it seems stupid that we didn’t, but at the time – we thought we might be wrong and look daft.”

Stephen continued. “At the quarry, the grown-ups challenged him and he threw Helen Goodwin over into the quarry?”

“Yes,” said Hannah, carefully.

“Then while Abby tried to save Helen, he attacked and tried to assault you?”

“Yes,” said Hannah uneasily, feeling ill at the memory.

“You hit him and knocked him out, but he came after you again and stabbed Samantha. You ran at him and pushed him into the well?”

“Yes,” said Hannah.

“But you were too late to rescue Becca,” he said.

Hannah nodded. “We didn’t know, but she was already crawling out.”

“OK,” said Stephen, snapping his notebook closed. “That’s enough for now.” He smiled at Hannah. “You did well, Hannah. I know it’s not easy to keep telling the same story, especially when it’s so upsetting, but we have to get it straight.”

“I know,” said Hannah. “It’s OK. It all happened so fast – it’s hard to remember.”

“You remembered fine,” he said, standing. “We’ll leave you to it,” he said, leading Jenny out of the room.

“What do you think?” asked Jenny.

“Well,” he replied, “we’ve had the same story from three of them. It’s quite a story, but it adds up.”

“Not for me,” said Jenny. “Not quite.”

They stopped walking. “How so?” he asked.

Jenny shrugged. “At the top of the quarry, Abby chose to leave her daughter with someone they suspected of abducting a child.”

“It was a snap decision,” he said. “She went after her partner, who probably would have otherwise died. Come on, it’s a result. How often do we get a happy ending in a case like this?”

“All the same,” said Jenny. “It’s not what I would have done.”

2

“Hi, Sammy,” said Abby.

Sammy pulled her heavy eyes open, reluctantly. She felt dreadfully tired and a bit sick.

“Mummy,” she said.

Abby pressed the buzzer for the nurse, who came quickly and checked Sammy over. “Samantha’s going to feel rough from the anaesthetic,” said the nurse. “But she’ll soon perk up.” She gave her a little water, sat her up slightly and then left.

“Mummy, I feel very poorly,” said Sammy. “I feel sick and I hurt.”

Abby held her hand, tightly. “You’re fine,” she said. “You’ll get better.”

There was a long silence.

“Where’s Helen?” asked Sammy.

“Somewhere in the hospital, in another room,” replied Abby. “She’s fine too.”

Sammy frowned. “She’s lonely, Mummy.”

Abby smiled. “I know. I’ll go and see her soon. I had to stay with you, though.”

“Thanks,” said Sammy. “Mummy –” She paused.

“What, baby?”

“Mummy, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. Helen’s hurt. All the trouble. It was me. I shouldn’t have done it.” Tears were forming around Sammy’s eyes.

“Hey,” said Abby. “It’s OK. You don’t have to say sorry. What you did was very brave. And very right. You did something you believed in. I’m proud of you.”

“You are?”

“You know I am, don’t you?”

Sammy nodded. “I didn’t just do it because it was right,” she said. “I did a deal. With – with
her.
”

“You
talked
to her?”

“Yes. I was going to trade me, for the girl in the well. I took Hannah so she could get her out – after. But I was too late, and then the bad man came.”

“She said she would do a trade?”

Sammy nodded. “A life for a life. She had to take the bad man instead of me. I made her.
She was very scary.
”

“Oh Sammy,” said Abby.

Sammy’s eyes closed and she drifted off for a few minutes. Abby kept quiet and let her sleep. After a while, her eyes opened again.

“The policeman is coming,” said Sammy. “He wants to talk to me.”

“Sams –”

“It’s OK, Mum,” she said. “I know what to say.”

“I thought you might,” said Abby. She paused and then asked, quietly, “Sams, you can do a bit more than just
read
minds, can’t you?”

Sammy looked a little shocked. “Mummy?”

“When Helen was hurt, I was going to come to you, not Helen. You – you spoke. In my mind. Do you remember?”

Sammy nodded. “I could see what you were thinking. And Helen. I knew she was –”

“It’s OK, baby,” said Abby. “You did the right thing. How long have you been able to do that?”

Sammy shrugged. “Always, I think. I just don’t like to. It’s hard and – I can hurt the person when I do it.”

Abby thought for a second and decided to change the subject. “Sammy – do you know what happened to you? To your tummy?”

“I think so,” said Sammy. “But it’s all a bit confusing. I can’t have babies, can I? The man cut me where I have babies – and now I can’t?”

Abby couldn’t hold back her tears. “That’s right, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Sammy shrugged. “It’s OK.”

“Oh, Sammy, it’s not OK, you say that now, but –”

“No, Mummy, it
is
OK.”

“Why do you say that? How can you know?”

“The woman. It’s only us keeping her alive. Us and whoever she takes. When we’re gone, she’s gone. She’s not gone now – but she’s dying. I can feel it: it’s like she’s – suffocating, slowly. When I die, she dies. If I have a baby, she’ll carry on. It’s fine Mummy – like with the girl. It’s the right thing.”

Christ, that’s deep
, thought Abby.

“Well, there’s always girls. Like me and Helen.”

“Ew, Mum! Please. No offence, but I don’t fancy girls.”

3

Stephen passed Jenny a cup of coffee from the hospital vending machine. She took a sip. “Ugh,” she said. “It tastes worse than it looks.”

“That’s some going,” replied Stephen. “It looks like crap.”

They walked slowly down the corridor. “Jen?”

“Um?”

“About the other night –”

“It’s OK, Steve, just let it go. I don’t mind.”

“What if I do?” he asked, stopping.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t looking for anything. Not sure I am now. And I don’t want a – you know, a fuck-buddy.”

“I wasn’t saying that,” replied Stephen. “I was thinking of – well, do you fancy going out?”

“I don’t know,” said Jenny. “Is that horrible of me? You know, I like you, but – well, I don’t know.”

“Fair enough,” said Stephen, hiding his disappointment badly. “If you change your mind –”

Jenny slapped Stephen’s shoulder, playfully.

“Of course I fancy going out,” she said, laughing. “I’m just messing with you.”

4

Abby gave Helen a long, loving kiss, not caring about the nurse in the room.

“God, I missed you,” said Helen. “How’s Sammy?”

After the nurse left, Abby told Helen everything that had happened; it wasn’t a tale that improved in the telling. For the most part, Helen remained quiet, but several times she broke down – especially when Abby told her about the outcome of Sammy’s injuries.

“And how do you feel about that?” asked Helen, softly.

“Crap,” said Abby, wiping away a tear. “Really crap. It’s not what any mother wants to hear: that her daughter can’t have children.”

“Is there no chance?” asked Helen. “Surely it’s only as if she’d had a caesarean? Don’t doctors cut wombs open all the time?”

“I asked that,” said Abby. “Apparently a wound is different in lots of ways. It was a rough cut, rather than a clean incision. Plus they had to remove a small part of the womb in order to repair it properly. And the wound was open for a good while – with a knife inside it, moving and twisting around – with a c-section they try to get in and out quickly. They’re not saying she definitely can’t have a child – but there’s only a tiny, tiny chance that she and the baby would survive more than a couple of months into pregnancy. Once the baby grows, the uterus could tear open.”

Helen squeezed Abby’s arm. “Oh, Abby,” she said.

Abby laid her hand on Helen’s. “I know. I thought it was bad enough when I knew that Sammy could only have one child. But now –”

“At least she’s OK, Abby.”

Abby nodded. “Yep. I really thought we’d lost her.”

The two women paused, neither knowing what to say next.

Helen broke the silence. She kissed Abby’s hand and paused briefly. “Ab, I’ve been thinking,” she said. “While I’ve been lying here. This might not be the right time, but –”

“Yes?”

“Do you want – how do you feel about having another baby?”

“Helen – you know I can’t. I can only have one. A girl. That’s it.”

“I’m not so sure. I think there’s a loophole,” said Helen.

“A loophole?” asked Abby, puzzled.

Helen nodded. “Your egg. My womb. Our baby.”

Abby looked doubtful. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s still my baby.”

Helen smiled, slightly smug. “Recite the rhyme to me,” she said. “Your family curse.”

“The baby you carry will never be male –,” Abby began, before stopping, stunned into silence. “Oh my God –” she said.

“That’s right,” said Helen, enthusiastically. “It’s your baby, but you don’t carry it, I do!”

Abby was lost for words.

“What do you think?” asked Helen.

“I think it’s mad,” said Abby, astonished to find that she was beaming in the middle of so much misery. “And brilliant. I’d love to.”

5

“Hannah, would you give me and your Dad a moment, please?”

“Sure,” said Hannah. “I’ll go back to my room and get dressed.”

“No, it’s OK – I won’t be long. Just wait outside?”

Hannah left the room and sat outside, waiting. Her Dad didn’t look good, but at least he was now awake and talking.

Julia gently closed the door and sat down next to Ed, gathering as much courage as she could.

“Hannah was stupid,” said Ed.

“No,” replied Julia, firmly. “She did a stupid thing. There’s a difference. She did it for the best of reasons. She’s very brave.”

“I suppose,” conceded Ed, reluctantly.

“Ed. I’ve got something to say. I don’t want you to interrupt or say anything.”

Ed looked at Julia. “What?”

“I don’t want you to come home.”