Chapter Eleven
March 2016
Imogen arrived in Bath in a flurry of excitement. Excited to share all her travel news, delighted to be on home soil, looking forward to her new job, elated to see her sister and hug her in what felt like forever, and anxious to hear everything that had happened since she went away.
The feeling of elation didn’t last long.
‘You could’ve told me.’ Tears streamed down her face that cold March morning, but telling someone else, Lydia was more together than she’d been in a long time.
‘I didn’t want to take away from what you had going on. And if the news had been different then I might have said something, but from the day he went into a coma, life has been stuck in the same place.’ Like an old LP and no matter how long it kept playing, circling round on that turntable, the needle never got out of the groove.
Theo had been moved to the high-dependency ward a couple of weeks ago and the consultant had talked with Anita and Lydia. Lydia thought he was carefully selecting his words, perhaps aware of the strain between the two women given their opposing views on what would’ve been best back in the early days of the accident. But maybe Lydia was reading too much into it. Maybe he was just reciting what needed to be said and leaving them to process it in their own way.
‘How does he eat?’ Imogen asked when they went to see Theo at the hospital. She sounded like a child in class wanting to know how everything worked.
‘He has something called a PEG in his stomach. Food, fluid and medication goes through there.’
‘He looks like Theo,’ Imogen observed as they sat at his bedside. ‘He looks like he’s sleeping apart from he’s a bit thinner.’
Lydia didn’t need Imogen to point out how Theo was slowly starting to show the most subtle of changes. He’d always been well-built, strong, but now his cheeks were more shallow, his chest not as muscular, even his arms looked strangely different. Half the time Lydia didn’t know what was real and what she was imagining.
‘And his hair,’ said Imogen. ‘What the fuck is going on with his hair?’
Lydia burst out laughing at the honest remark. ‘Someone cut it.’
‘I’ll say!’
‘I know, it’s not great.’
‘He’d hate it!’ Imogen grinned. ‘Do you remember that time your friend at uni cut his hair?’
‘He said never again.’ Lydia remembered the time fondly, because his face had been a picture, his protests igniting such laughter amongst friends. ‘He called her a complete amateur. He’d been trying to save money but ever since then he’s always paid for a decent hairdresser.’
Theo had no idea what he looked like these days. He didn’t know what had been done to his hair or anything else. He’d been poked, prodded, moved around, and the more it happened the more Lydia was beginning to realise that the Theo she knew and loved so deeply was gradually moving further and further away from her, and the more time marched on, the less likely his chances of a meaningful recovery. It’d been nearly three months now and if she heard those words ‘no change’ one more time, she swore she’d scream.
Imogen had wanted to take flowers to the hospital before Lydia had explained the rigours of the intensive-care unit, and now the high-dependency unit, so on their way home she insisted on stopping at the florist and buying the most cheerful bunch she could find.
Now she arranged bright yellow sunflowers in the vase that stood proudly on the lounge room windowsill. The blooms picked up the subtle hint of yellowy-gold on the tiles surrounding the fireplace, a nice contrast to the grey and white colour scheme.
‘There,’ said Imogen satisfactorily. ‘These are for Theo even though he can’t have them in the hospital.’
He wouldn’t be able to see the bloody things anyway, Lydia thought, slumping down into the armchair with the Chinese takeaway menu so they could order in. It had been Imogen’s suggestion before she’d arrived at the house today. She’d said she didn’t want Lydia or Theo having to cook for her, she wanted to treat them and at the time Lydia had skittered over the fact that Theo wouldn’t exactly be involved in tonight’s proceedings.
Once they’d ordered their meal, the girls opened a bottle of wine Imogen had chosen from the off-licence. A Marlborough Sounds sauvignon blanc she’d tried over in New Zealand and insisted Lydia simply had to sample sat between them on the coffee table and they left the lounge door open for fear of missing the delivery guy when he knocked.
‘How’s Theo’s sister coping?’ Imogen asked.
‘She’s doing okay. I don’t bump into her much. I’ve only seen her at the hospital a couple of times but she struggles to get down here from work, so it’s hit and miss whether we are ever at the hospital at the same time.’
‘Does she have an opinion on the whole situation?’
‘You mean whether he should’ve been kept alive?’
Imogen nodded although her eyes glistened with tears.
‘I haven’t asked her. But it’s not as clear-cut as that, Imogen. It’s what Theo asked me to promise him, but decisions had to be made without the benefit of hindsight, and none of us know what will happen in the long-term. He may end up getting better, he may not.’
Lydia had ignored some of the text messages from Grace and only messaged back the odd sentence when she felt it would be rude not to at least acknowledge her contact. She excused her lack of wanting to talk by claiming work was hectic and she was rushed off her feet, but really she didn’t want to talk about Theo and how much he would resent being kept alive, stuck in a bed unable to do anything for himself. She didn’t want to be reminded of the one way she’d let him down. Grace had the same determined streak in her as her brother and the same need to push things her way if they felt anyone had been wronged, and she was as persuasive as Theo. Lydia wouldn’t mind betting if she’d agreed with Lydia about the best course of action for her brother, even Anita may have listened. As a child, Grace had managed to get Anita to buy her not just one puppy but two when Anita was a self-claimed cat lover and not a fan of dogs; she had her dad wrapped around her little finger, he’d run her to concerts that were deemed inappropriate by most of the family, he’d approved the gap year when her mother thought she should start her job straight away in the current economic climate, and she’d persuaded Theo to let her, as a learner who’d only passed her test two weeks before, to drive his very expensive and shiny new car over to a friend’s house some thirty miles away, on a dark and foggy night when he never would’ve caved for anyone else. Grace was responsible, careful and reliable as well as being persuasive, so life usually went the way she wanted it to.
‘Why don’t you come up to Manchester with me for a while when I start my new job?’ Imogen cradled her glass of sauvignon blanc. It looked misplaced. She was still in her very early twenties and Lydia had only ever seen her with a beer or an alcopop.
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘You know why not.’
‘I don’t think Theo’s going anywhere in a hurry.’ She clocked Lydia’s glare. ‘Well he’s not. I’m not being funny and I know Sally agrees with me.’
‘You’ve been talking to Sally?’
‘She emailed me this afternoon after I sent her a message to ask how you really are.’
‘I went out with her the other night.’
‘She told me. And she says you need more of the same.’
‘Look, I really appreciate the offer, Imogen, but I’m sure in the week you’re here we can go out plenty. I can always come up in a few months.’ When Theo was better? Or heaven forbid, when Theo changed in a different way. She couldn’t even say the word ‘die’ in her head, because if she did, she’d lose the plot entirely.
‘The offer’s there. Please tell me you’ll consider it at least.’
‘I will, I promise.’ Saved by the bell, Lydia got up to answer the door and took the white plastic carrier bags, paid the delivery guy and met Imogen in the kitchen where she’d taken the plates out of the oven after they’d warmed on the lowest setting.
Over crispy duck with plum sauce and egg noodles plus sweet and sour chicken, Imogen and Lydia talked about Imogen’s travels, what it was like to be so free and do whatever she wanted for an entire year.
‘It sounds amazing,’ said Lydia, scooping up another forkful of rice. ‘I sometimes wish I’d done something like that.’
‘It wouldn’t have suited you.’ Imogen licked the sweet and sour sauce from her fingers. She had the same dark skin and hair as Lydia but she didn’t have Lydia’s curves. Imogen got her more boyish figure from their dad who was tall and lean, and growing up Lydia had resented the fact she put on weight so easily when her sister could trough away and not. But when her sister went to university she succumbed to the same peril as the rest of them and stacked on the pounds, although they’d gone now and she looked toned, tanned and happy. Maybe that was what hauling a rucksack halfway around the world did for you.
‘Why not?’ Lydia asked.
‘You’re too organised and do things by the book, that’s why. You like to know what you’re doing and when. I bet you hated not having a regular job to go to. Am I right?’
Lydia grinned. ‘I loved freelancing for about three weeks, when I didn’t have to get out of bed to an alarm and when I got to stay inside if it was peeing down with rain, but the novelty soon wore off. I used to see people go past the window in their suits and be jealous of them. But then I got a bit smarter and disciplined. I started to make money freelancing because I put the hours in. I didn’t lounge in bed until noon, I got up when Theo did and by the time he left the house I was settled at my desk with a cuppa.’
Imogen declared herself full and pushed her plate onto the coffee table. ‘I met someone on my travels.’
Lydia’s face brightened. ‘Do tell…’
‘His name’s Robbie and we hung out almost every night.’
‘You didn’t mention him in your postcards.’
Imogen coyly twirled the ends of her hair around a finger. ‘I thought it’d be a holiday romance on his part.’
‘But it wasn’t?’
She shook her head. ‘He lives a ten-minute drive from where I’ll be living when I start my new job, and he’s very keen to see me again. I think it could be serious.’
‘I’m pleased for you, sis.’
‘If you come and see me one weekend, you’ll be able to meet him.’
‘For sure.’
‘How’s the new job? It sounds as though you’re enjoying it.’
Lydia wasn’t sure whether Imogen had changed the subject because a flourishing love life wasn’t something she was comfortable with given her own situation, but she guessed Imogen would share more in her own time. ‘I love the new job. I really do.’ She allowed herself a smile. ‘Theo convinced me to apply.’
‘I’ll bet you’re glad he did.’ She smiled at her sister. ‘So…you’ve been to Hertfordshire. What’s next? Something a bit further afield?’
‘I don’t actually know.’ Her thoughts turned to Jonathan and she wondered how he was getting on in Italy. Maybe he’d moved on somewhere else by now. ‘It was different to doing some of the articles for the paper in London. This was a positive event, something good. At the paper I sometimes had to hound people who didn’t want to talk and I hated it.’
‘It sounds as though you’ve fallen on your feet.’ Imogen pulled a face. ‘Sorry, under the circumstances that sounds terrible, but I’m glad you’ve found a job, something to focus on. It’s a good thing.’ She reached out and clutched Lydia’s hand in a reassuring way she’d never done before. The pair were close as sisters but as Imogen was so much younger, she rarely showed a more mature side, and Lydia realised then that she cared and understood how impossible this whole situation was. Before, Imogen probably would’ve said something like ‘it’s worse than if he died, at least you can move on then’. But there was no sign of anything tactless coming out of her mouth as they cleared away the plates.
The day Imogen left, Lydia realised how much she’d relied on the company if only for a couple of nights. The silence was less deafening with someone else around, there was a feeling of life back in the place rather than the staid atmosphere that accompanied Lydia’s daily routine. Usually the only sounds were passers-by or vehicles beeping and Lydia had got into the habit of putting the television on in the background, or the radio in the kitchen, simply to fill the void.
‘I’ll miss you.’ Imogen hugged her sister warmly when they reached the station where she’d take the train up to Yorkshire to stay with their parents.
‘I’ll miss you too.’
‘I’m keeping every single thing crossed for Theo, you know.’
‘I know you are.’ Lydia hugged her sister again. ‘You’d better go, you don’t want to miss the train. Are you sure you’ll be able to navigate the change in London?’
Imogen burst out laughing as the sun came out from behind the clouds and bathed the station entrance. ‘I’ve just trekked through country after country, I think I’ll be okay.’
‘I forget sometimes. You’re my little sister, I still look out for you.’
‘And I look out for you, so promise me you’ll come up to Manchester one weekend.’
‘I promise.’ She waved as her sister went in to the station.
Her sister’s presence in her life had always been flighty. It was what twenty-somethings were like. But seeing her this weekend had also grounded Lydia. Managing her feelings as she saw yet another person’s reaction to Theo and what was happening to him now helped her cope in a way.
But nothing would ever take away the guilt that months after the accident had happened, he was still lying helpless in a bed.
And she’d promised him the exact opposite.