Bridget had woken early and was sitting at her kitchen table with her morning cup of tea in front of her. Coal was chomping his breakfast down, and as soon as he’d finished he’d want out, she thought, watching the black bundle fondly. He was a creature of habit just like she was. Isla wasn’t home, and Bridget wondered if she’d spent the night at Ben’s. She frowned. Given their history, it was safe to say Isla hadn’t slept with him on their first date. The seven o’clock news had just finished on the radio when she registered a banging on the front door. Thinking perhaps Isla had forgotten her key she got up, tying the cord of her dressing gown tightly just in case it wasn’t her. She didn’t want to give the postman or whoever else it could be a fright. She made her way down the hall and opening the door.
‘Ben, what is it?’ She felt her legs wobble, she could tell by the look on his face he was not the bearer of good news.
‘Bridget, listen she’s okay, but Isla’s been – oh shit, Bridget, there’s been an accident, and it’s all my fault.’ He reached out to steady her. ‘We had a stupid fight, I left her at the café, and she must’ve got it in her head to go for a drive. Shit. I assumed she’d lock up and come back here.’ Seeing Bridget’s stricken face, he hastily continued. ‘When the call came in to tow her car, I rang Joe, she’s going to be okay. She’s at Christchurch Hospital, Mary and Joe are both with her, and they asked me to come and pick you up.’
Bridget just stared at him, trying to comprehend what she’d just been told before galvanizing herself. ‘I’d better get dressed, can you give me a minute?’
Ben nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check if he’d had any messages updating him on how Isla was doing while Bridget went back in the house. On automatic pilot, she threw on the first top she could lay her hands on along with a pair of cotton slacks. Not bothering with her morning ablutions she headed out the door to where Ben had the truck idling. They built those bloody wagons with high jumpers in mind, she thought as he helped her up into the passenger seat.
They didn’t talk much on the journey, and it seemed interminable. Ben didn’t know what had happened exactly or why she’d wound up in Christchurch hospital and not Grey Base on the Coast. The only thing that made any sense was that she’d decided to head into the city for the night after their row, maybe she’d been heading for Carl’s. Oh God, he thought gripping the steering wheel, if he could turn back time, he would. He’d never have said the things he’d said. Isla only wanted what was best for Bridget, he knew that, and all that other stuff he’d gone on about – well, it was ancient history. Dredging up past hurts had only resulted in more hurt.
Joe had said something about a ditch and the car being upside down when it was found, but that, and the fact that she was at Christchurch Public and wasn’t critical, was all he’d gleaned. At last, they reached the suburbs of Christchurch, and as they slowed to a virtual standstill in the rush hour traffic, Ben cursed, tapping the steering wheel as he willed the lights ahead to turn green.
‘I’d better let Annie know what’s happening.’ He dug out his phone and made the call. She answered after a few short rings, and he filled her in, reassuring her that her friend was going to be okay. ‘Yeah, I will do, and I’ll let you know as soon as I know more. Hang on I’ll pass you over to Bridget.’
Bridget pressed the phone to her ear. She hated the silly things as a rule, but at times like this, the cell phone was a blessing. Annie’s worried voice asked her if she was doing okay, and she assured her that she was, but she’d be doing a whole lot better once she’d seen Isla with her own eyes. She said goodbye, promising as Ben had to let her know how Isla was once they’d seen her. ‘How do I hang this thing up?’ She asked thrusting the phone back to Ben. He switched it off and breathed a sigh of relief, as the leafy arbour that surrounded Hagley Park came into sight.
‘We’re nearly there, Bridget.’
Ben stopped outside the hospital’s main doors and getting out of the truck he went round to the passenger side to help Bridget down. ‘You go on in Bridget, and I’ll send Joe a text to tell him to meet you inside.’
Bridget nodded and headed through the automatic doors leaving Ben to park his truck.
She’d only just got her bearings when he burst through the doors behind her.
‘The Wilson’s carpark is just across the road,’ he said breathing heavily as though he’d been running. He was about to ask the woman at the front desk where Isla was when Joe appeared.
He looked understandably crumpled, Bridget thought, as he strode towards them.
‘She’s going to be fine Bridget, Ben. She’ll be sore for a while, but she’ll be fine.’
‘I was so worried.’ Ben rubbed at the stubble on his chin.
His agitation was apparent, and Bridget patted his arm, knowing the poor lad was still blaming himself and that she would be wasting her breath telling him again that it was an accident, no more, no less.
‘Come on I’ll take you both up to see her and Mary. She’s in a right state,’ Joe said putting his arm around his mother-in-law’s shoulder. ‘She needs her mum to sort her out.’
They walked past the café and pharmacy to the lifts, and Joe filled in the blanks for them as they went.
The town’s local policeman Tep, had knocked on Mary’s and Joe’s door shortly after five o’clock this morning to tell them that Isla’s car had been found upside down in a ditch near the town of Springfield. The accident, it had been ascertained, had happened shortly after 11pm. No one else was involved, she’d taken the corner too fast and lost control of the car. She’d drifted in and out of consciousness until a farmer had spotted Delilah as he set off on his early morning rounds. He’d stayed with her, talking to her and holding her hand until the Westpac chopper arrived to airlift her here, to the hospital. Joe listed off her injuries; slight concussion, three cracked ribs, and extensive bruising. ‘She’s going to be in pain with those ribs, but she’ll mend.’
That she was alive was a blessing in itself. Despite having very good reason not to be religious in her opinion, this was an occasion when Bridget felt it appropriate to raise her eyes heavenward and send up a small thank you. They exited the lift and Mary made her way down the corridor towards them. She was, Bridget noticed as she stepped forward to hug her daughter, pale for the first time in months. She dissolved into tears as she felt her mother’s arms enfold her and Bridget rubbed her back. Your children were always your babies, she thought, desperately wanting to comfort her. ‘She’s alright, Mary, it’s the shock, that’s all. It’s been a terrible, terrible shock but she’s going to be fine. There, there.’
Joe came over and kissed his wife’s hair. ‘I’ll go and find you a cup of tea, love.’ He disappeared back down the corridor.
Mary sat down on one of the seats and gestured to the room across the way. ‘She’s at the far end by the window, in the bed on the right. She’s a bit out of it on the pain medication, but you can go and see her. It has to be one at a time for now though, the nurse said.’
‘You go in first, Bridget, I don’t know if she’ll even want to see me after last night,’ Ben said sitting down next Mary.
Bridget felt a rush of warmth for him; she knew how desperate he was to get in there himself. ‘She’ll want to see you love. I won’t be long.’ She patted Mary on her shoulder. ‘Keep an eye on this one for me will you, Ben?’
He nodded and asked Mary if she’d rung the pharmacy and told them what had happened.
Bridget left them talking and walked quietly into the room trying not to stare at all the other patients as she walked to the last bed where Mary had told her she’d find Isla.
She inhaled sharply to stop the sob from escaping at the sight of her poor battered granddaughter lying on her bed in a hospital gown, with a sheet covering her legs. ‘Hello Isla, my lovely,’ she said sitting down in the chair by the bed and picking up her hand. She held it tightly. ‘You’ve given us such a fright my girl.’
‘Sorry Gran,’ Isla croaked her eyes drifting towards the table.
Bridget followed their direction, ‘Would you like a drink sweetheart?’
Isla managed a small nod and Bridget let go of her hand to pick up the plastic cup. She held it to her mouth and placed the straw between her lips to have a sip. When she’d finished, she put it back on the tray table and stroked her granddaughter’s forehead gently. ‘You’ve been in the wars.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know what possessed you to go driving off like you did. Ben said you’d had a row. He’s blaming himself for you winding up in here you know.’
Isla shook her head. ‘Not his fault.’ Her voice was slurred.
‘Well, you be sure and tell him this isn’t his fault and whatever it was the two of you fell out about put it behind you. He’s a very special young man who loves you very much, he always has Isla Brookes. Don’t make the same mistake twice and let that love slip from your grasp.’
Isla could sense the stern urgency in her gran’s tone despite her befuddled state and she knew she needed to tell her what she and Ben had fought about but she was so tired.
‘Gran, ask Ben, he’ll tell you,’ she rasped before her eyes fluttered shut.
Perplexed, Bridget kissed Isla on the cheek and got up to fetch Ben. Whatever it was she’d been talking about could wait.
Ben, sat down and picked up Isla’s hand. His eyes smarted but he wouldn’t let the sight of her bring him to tears, she needed him to be strong. ‘I’m sorry I behaved like an arse,’ he said quietly, and he knew even though her eyes were closed, she’d heard him by the way she gave his hand the gentlest of squeezes back.