Trauma (22 page)

'No you can't,' said Lafferty. 'It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's your body's way of telling you that it can't stand the strain of carrying everyone else’s grief. It's too much for anyone. Don't worry. Underneath it all you haven't changed. You're still the same caring person you were before you came into medicine. The fact that you worry about it says so.'

Sarah looked at Lafferty for a moment before saying, 'Do you know, I probably shouldn't say this but that's the first time I've ever heard anything comforting from a man of the cloth.'

Lafferty laughed and said, 'Then my day has not entirely been in vain.'

'More coffee?'

'That was fine,' said Lafferty who started to get up. He said, 'I hope you don't mind my saying this but what you said on the telephone about John McKirrop regaining or not regaining consciousness has been puzzling me.'

Sarah visibly stiffened at the name, McKirrop, and Lafferty noticed. 'If it's none of my business,' he said. 'Just tell me and I'll shut up.'

Sarah desperately did want to talk to someone about McKirrop's death but she needed to think about it first. She confined what she had to say to the disagreement over whether McKirrop had been conscious or not.

'And you think he knew what he was saying?' said Lafferty when she had finished.

'Yes,' said Sarah. 'He didn't remember anything about the assault which brought him in here but I'm sure he was quite lucid about what happened in the cemetery.'

'That's really what I wanted to talk to him about,' said Lafferty.

'Really?' said Sarah.

'I've been trying to help John Main find out what happened to his son's body,' said Lafferty.

'I see,' said Sarah. 'Poor man, he's had quite enough to contend with without that happening.'

'You know him?' asked Lafferty.

'Not personally, but his son died here in HTU,' said Sarah.

'Of course, I'd forgotten,' said Lafferty. Can you remember what McKirrop actually said when he came round?' he asked.

Sarah took a deep breath and said, 'It was really just a case of a few phrases but he clearly remembered the empty coffin. He said that two or three times. And something about yobs beating him up.

'Yobs?' asked Lafferty with a puzzled frown. 'He used that word?'

'Yes, yobs.'

'Anything else?'

'No, I think that was it.'

'I'm grateful to you for talking to me about it,' said Lafferty.

'It's the very least I could do in the circumstances,' said Sarah.

'Good night, Doctor,' said Lafferty. 'From what you said about Mary, I fear we may meet again before long.'

Sarah nodded slightly and said good night. Lafferty left.

There were grey streaks of dawn in the sky as Lafferty walked across the courtyard to his car. A milk float cruised past the main gate, its full load of bottles bouncing in unison in their crates as its small wheels made heavy work of the uneven surface. Yobs, was a funny word to use to describe Satanists, he thought as he struggled to put the ignition key in place in the darkness. Yobs conjured up images of tearaways, vandals, and thugs, people who broke and destroyed things but grave-robbing? That was something else. That wasn't their style at all. The engine of the old Ford Escort sprang into life accompanied by a squeal which said that the clutch release bearing needed attention. He really must get it fixed soon.

* * * * *

In theory, Sarah should have had the morning off but it was Tyndall's ward round and it was expected that she should be there for that and the medical meeting afterwards. She arrived in the unit fifteen minutes early so that she could brief Logan on Mary O'Donnell and found him with the patient when she arrived. She noted that he’d written her up for Sigma probes.

'Do you think it's worth it?' she inquired. 'She has massive brain damage.'

'Anyone under eighteen gets Sigma Probes routinely,' replied Logan. 'It's written into the trial protocol. We have discretion with older patients but the rules apply to our young friend here.'

'I see,' said Sarah.'

'I'm sorry. I should have told you that,' said Logan.

Sarah was taken aback. It was the first time that Logan had ever apologised for anything. A red letter day, she thought. 'Will you be carrying out the scans on Miss O'Donnell?' she asked.

'Unless Dr Tyndall says otherwise. Why?'

'It's just that I met her parents last night and her parish priest. I'm interested in the outcome,' said Sarah. She felt uncomfortable saying it, as if she were inviting Logan to slap her down. Sure enough, Logan gave her a lecture on not becoming personally involved. He ended it with, 'How many times do I have to tell you?'

'Perhaps there's a middle way Dr Logan,' said Sarah in a tone that suggested Logan had missed it by a mile.

'I'm only saying this for your own good,' said Logan. 'If you start getting involved with the patients and their families, it will drain you. You won't be able to function as a doctor. You'll be finished in this kind of medicine within a year.'

'I don't intend to make my career in this kind of medicine,' said Sarah.

'Oh no,' smiled Logan - it was almost a sneer. 'You've set your heart on being a GP just like Daddy.'

Sarah coloured with anger but she kept rein on her tongue.

'That's different then. You can get involved all you want to with sore throats and boils on the bum. Demanding stuff.'

'There's a lot more to being a GP than that!' retorted Sarah.

'I forgot about the ante-natal clinics,' said Logan.

'You . . . you pompous oaf!' exclaimed Sarah, immediately appalled at what she'd said.

Logan seemed to take it in his stride. He looked at Sarah and said, 'At least I have something to be pompous about. Look around you! This is where it's at. Front line medicine! You've been given the chance to work at the very forefront of medical science and all you can think about is a career doling out HRT to the Women's Institute!'

'That is absolutely ...!'

'Good morning everyone,' said Murdoch Tyndall's voice and Sarah and Logan froze in mid argument. 'Good morning sir,' they said in unison without breaking eye contact.

'Shall we begin?'

The consultant's round went smoothly enough with Logan briefing Tyndall on the progress of each patient in turn and Sarah speaking when she was spoken to. Mary O'Donnell was the last patient to be considered as she was the latest admission. Tyndall read the notes and murmured, 'Doesn't look good does it?'

'No sir.'

'Will you do the scans this morning?'

'Yes sir. About the Sigma Probes? Will you implant them?'

'I'll do it before I go. Do we have a sterile set?'

Sister Roche said, 'Yes sir.'

'Do we know about relatives?'

Logan turned to Sarah. She said, 'I saw both parents early this morning when we admitted her from A&E. The patient's parish priest was also here.'

'A little premature,' said Tyndall, beaming slightly to advertise his joke.

'I got the impression that Father Lafferty is a family friend,' said Sarah.

'Lafferty?'

'Yes sir.'

'Wasn't he the chap who had an interest in Mr McKirrop?'

'Yes sir.'

'If he keeps this up we'll have to make him chaplain to the unit!' said Tyndall.

Everyone smiled on cue.

'I hope you didn't build their hopes too high,' said Tyndall, becoming serious again.

'No sir,' said Sarah. 'I think they realised the seriousness of the position.'

'Good,' said Tyndall gravely. 'We may have to see them after the scans are complete. We don't want this to drag on if there's no chance of recovery.' He turned to Sarah and asked, 'I don't suppose you can give us an indication what the priest's position might be on discontinuing the ventilator if it should come to that?'

'Not really sir,' replied Sarah. 'But he struck me as an eminently sensible man.'

'Good,' said Tyndall. 'The last thing we need is a self righteous nutter causing all kinds of distress to everyone.'

'No sir.'

'Well, that's it then. 'I'll do the probes if you prepare a tray Sister.'

'Yes sir,' said Roche.

Tyndall went to scrub up for the minor surgical procedure involved in implanting the Sigma probes in Mary O'Donnell's skull. A few minutes later the phone rang in the duty room and a nurse announced that it was Mrs O'Donnell.'

'You take it,' said Logan to Sarah. 'I'll prepare for the scans. You can tell her we should be done by twelve. We'll know more then. You know the routine.'

Sarah spoke to Jean O'Donnell and told her that Mary's condition was unchanged. She didn't remind her that it couldn't change with machines doing everything for her.

'Does that mean she's got a chance then?' asked Jean O'Donnell eagerly.

A lump came to Sarah's throat. She said, 'I'm afraid it doesn't in itself, Mrs O'Donnell. It means that her physical state is unchanged but we don't know anything about the damage to her brain as yet. Dr Logan is just about to begin her scans. Can you call back about lunch time?'

'Yes, Doctor and, thank you.'

'I'll speak to you later,' said Sarah.

Lafferty spent the morning in the church praying for the recovery of Mary O'Donnell but also for strength to bring comfort to her grieving parents should it be necessary. After his conversation with Sarah Lasseter in the early hours of the morning he suspected that the latter would be more relevant. He wondered how Jean would take it. She’d always had an unshakable faith. Please God it would survive the death of her daughter.

Joseph O'Donnell would be bitter and when mixed with the guilt he was feeling it might prove a heady cocktail to handle. Joe needed someone or something to blame. He needed this because he felt guilty himself. He and Mary had been at loggerheads for weeks over her boyfriend and the hours she kept. Joe clearly loved his daughter but the fact that he would never be able to tell her this and that she had died with so much bad feeling between them would be hard for him to bear. He would feel resentful and betrayed.

Lafferty phoned to ask if there was any news. Joe O'Donnell answered.

'Still the same,' he said.

'No sign of improvement?'

'They're doing tests this morning.'

'I'll call back later, Joe.'

'Father? ...'

'Yes?'

'About the fight Mary and I had last week ... the mark on her head ... I didn't mean her no harm . . . I mean . . . I love her really.'

'I know that Joe. Don't worry about it. I'll speak to you later.'

Lafferty was sitting thinking about Joe when the phone rang. It was John Main and he sounded revitalised.

'I thought you'd like to know, I found them Ryan. I found them last night.'

Lafferty had to think for a moment before he realised what Main meant. 'You mean, the people who took Simon?' he exclaimed.

'Yes. I found them, all four of them.'

'How in God's name did you do it?' asked Lafferty.

Main explained the thinking behind his pub crawl and what had happened when he had put the theory into practice. 'They were in the very last one I visited. I've just been down at police headquarters with their descriptions.'

'Descriptions?' asked Lafferty.

Main told him about the fight in the pub and how he'd nearly lost his sight.

Lafferty frowned and asked, 'Are your eyes all right?'

'Still a bit sore but I can see,' said Main. 'I'll survive.'

'So who are these people?' asked Lafferty. 'Did the police have any idea?'

'I had a look through their mug shot books but I didn't recognise anyone. They seemed like plain ordinary kitchen or garden yobs to me,' said Main. 'But the police are confident they'll find them now they know where to look.'

There was that word again, thought Lafferty. 'Yobs'. 'How can you be sure these are the men?' he asked.

'They didn't deny it,' answered Main.

'You mean they admitted taking Simon's body?' exclaimed Lafferty.

'They didn't go that far,' said Main. 'They tried to suggest I'd got it all wrong but they knew McKirrop all right and they admitted being there in the cemetery that night.'

'Thank God,' said Lafferty. 'I'm afraid I've been getting nowhere at the library. I hope the police pick these men up soon; this has all been a nightmare for you.'

'You can say that again,' agreed Main. 'But we're nearly there. It may be that these four were acting on behalf of someone else but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.'

'Indeed we will,' said Lafferty. 'Keep me informed.'

'I will.'